#sounds familiar ngl…
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hanakou-often · 4 months ago
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HANAKOU NATION START YOUR ENGINES!! Even though February's months away, I wanted to give people (me) ample time to get their ducks in a row. While I'm only on tumblr, I'm aware that there's other Hanakouers on other platforms so feel free to participate/share this on other places too!! If y'all have any questions, my inbox is always open! C:
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kiivg · 11 months ago
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.So, anyway, I played Vampyr 🦷🩸.
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deus-ex-mona · 1 year ago
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a n y w a y s listen to nagisa’s new song it’ll change your life
#this new v tuber singer dude is excellent at singing ngl. his voice is very upbeat and goes well with the song#[​enojun version waiting room intensifies]#ok but. is it s e r i o u s l y just me or did they actually use a ukulele for this song#idk but that ukulele-sounding instrument reminds me of this guy who would walk around playing his ukulele at school back in the days of yore#the backing track also sounds familiar somehow… like one of those kindness movements/life insurance commercials maybe?#no idea wh y but i can picture nagisa singing this by the beach. y’know. nagisa singing at the nagisa—#this song is def gonna make me laugh or cry (or both) when it gets an mv…#it could be either hilarious or heartbreaking with no in-between#but man. nagisa. his long time crush comes back home looking (presumably) like a maiden in love and he’s just.#‘:( i’m not the one who made her like this :((( but she’s super cute though’#i m mad coping with the thoughts that hiyoko started to fall for nagisa with the distance between them (absence and the fonder heart or sth)#a n d that she only seemed fine when she went back bc she didn’t want him to see her upset about having to leave for the city b u t.#auasusuxuxuxuxhaughhhhhshhshshshshsh im c o p i n g#if hiyo ends up with one of the lips im gonna write a nagisa x the leftover lip enemies to lovers manifesto d o n t t e s t m e o k—#aaaaaaauauaaaaaaaaaaa im sorry i lied when i said i was done with my 2k23 nagisa crisis i’ll be done after this. maybe.#the dude from gamushara
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baylardo · 2 years ago
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grrrrr i REALLY liked DS9’s Duet episode,,,,,, clenches fist,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
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atsu-i · 2 years ago
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Hi! Sorry, I'm really trying to find one of your posts and it would be great if you could help me with the name of the manga 🥹
The manga is about 2 guys in the School (they were friends some time ago) and a shy girl is in love with one of them (boy 2), the other friend (boy 1) is trying to help the shy girl so she can confess her love, but he (boy 1) starts to catch feelings for her in the process. Then, we realize the boy 2 is gay and he's in love with his friend (boy 1), and the best friend of the shy girl is lesbian.
The story really caught me, if maybe you recognize the story I'd appreciate it :3
Pdt: amazing blog by the way
hi ^^
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miss-floral-thief · 2 years ago
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lol did they give mia a va?
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emmi-kat · 2 years ago
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I did several rounds of vacation bible school and also Sunday school when I was visiting my grandma over summer/fall/winter/spting breaks and, legitimately, the only reference in this post that I personally can identify is Jesus' crown of thorns?
Being raised by areligious jews with 0 exposure to christianity outside pop culture is so fun. One time I asked my ex-catholic friend why a picture of jesus had a bristle crown and she looked at me like I was insane. One time I heard someone mention the "lance of longinus" and responded, word for word, "Like from Evangelion?" One time during a history lesson my professor described an important monk and scholar as "Dominican" and I spent the rest of class super confused and hung up on it because I was very sure that the Dominican Republic didn't meaningfully exist as an entity back then, maybe she meant he was a native Taino or something but that's a weird way to say that and I'm pretty sure this was pre- European contact? Really fucks people up when they realize I genuinely have no idea.
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kon-konk · 9 months ago
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I feel like I might have hit a jackpot with my Crunchyroll blind box bargain stuff
I got Galaxy Angel X as a Blu-ray, You're Being Summoned, Azazel as a DVD (both of which seem to be pretty good, based on the ratings I've seen which are roughly in the 7/10 area) and Go! Go! Loser Ranger! Vol. 4 where the cover was put on inside out (the kind of shit I like to collect, fucked up printing stuff)
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bluelockmaniac · 8 months ago
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˖⋆࿐໋ "PLEASE, COME BACK."
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★ ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, don lorenzo, oliver aiku, isagi yoichi & otoya eita (honourable mentions). synopsis. your ex-partners are desperate for you and need you back.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 content warning. general: pet names (princess, baby, etc). sae: suggestive. ness: mentions of stalking, obsessive, creepy ngl. reo: parental humiliation, mother reader. oliver: cheating (duh), he gets slapped lmfao.
notes. total word count: 3.3k !! , angsty ? fem!reader .
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
rainy days were the worst, you mused bitterly, recalling how rin had chosen a stormy day, much akin to this, to break things off with you.
you sneezed into your elbow, feeling the tiny droplets of water cascade down, peppering your bare skin relentlessly. you shivered as you sat on a random bench in the nearest park, regretting your decision to skip checking the weather app today.
wrapping your arms around yourself, cold and damp, you anxiously waited for a certain someone to pick you up.
suddenly, the freezing, stinging sensation of the raindrops on your skin ceased. you noticed a pair of legs in front of you and tilted your head up, meeting the familiar gaze of the man you had once called yours. his arm was outstretched, holding an umbrella above your head.
“y/n…” rin's voice was quiet, barely audible over the splattering rain.
your eyes widen, quickly darting down to stare at your empty lap. your fingers gripped the bench tightly. "hi," you mumbled, the word barely escaping your lips. this was probably the first time he had ever initiated a conversation with you; in your past relationship, that had always been your role. what was he doing here, anyway?
as if reading your mind, he spoke up awkwardly, “i just finished my afternoon jog…” he paused, shuffling his feet slightly. “do you want a ride?”
you finally looked up at him again, shaking your head subtly. “no, thank you... i'm waiting for someone right now.”
“ah, i see.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. he internally cursed himself for his clumsy attempt and for possibly making things worse by asking in the first place.
a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between you, but when the tension was too unbearable to handle, he broke the silence.
“i'm… fuck, i'm sorry, okay?” he lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. “for everything in the past. for always ignoring you and neglecting you... if you want, we can–”
the loud honking sound of a car in the distance caught the attention of both you and rin. his brows furrowed in confusion as you stood up and walked a few steps towards the car, throwing him a faint smile.
“ah, it seems like my boyfriend is here.”
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
by no means was your relationship with sae horrible; in fact, it was quite the opposite. he consistently spoiled you with gifts and favourite snacks, treated you better than his teammates and the public, and always made you feel like the only girl in the universe.
so why had you both mutually agreed to call things off? the challenges of a long-distance relationship became overwhelming.
his frequent travels abroad for football games and the substantial timezone difference made regular communication difficult. every time you called, he would be asleep, and by the time you woke up, you’d see numerous missed calls from him.
nonetheless, it was safe to say that there were still lingering feelings between you both.
you sat down on your plush couch, turning on the television. immediately, the exclusive football channel that your tv always seemed to be tuned into appeared, and this time, it featured a live interview with your ex-boyfriend.
“sae…” you whispered softly upon seeing him.
it seemed as though the interviewer had already wrapped up the important questions, and was now delving into more personal topics.
“thank you, itoshi-san. next question, is there anything in particular that you enjoy doing?”
the football prodigy rolled his eyes and sighed audibly. with a blank expression, he replied, “my girlfriend.”
you felt your face heat up at the suggestive implication, pressing your hands to your warming cheeks– he had never had a girlfriend besides you and had promised he wouldn’t date anyone else. he was talking about you.
to make matters worse for your fragile heart, sae stared right into the camera lens with a subtle smirk, as if he knew you would be watching. the shallow stirring in your heart has confirmed what you already feared: you hadn’t gotten over him, and you knew you never would.
silence louder than a roaring engine filled the enclosure, before the interviewer broke the awkward stillness. “... s-sorry?” the lady was clearly caught off-guard, blinking at him once, twice.
sae scoffed impatiently, “did you not hear me the first time?”
“a-ah, yes, of course.” the woman stammered quickly, trying to recover her professionalism. “you... enjoy doing your girlfriend, yes.”
“used to,” he muttered under his breath, but the interviewer caught it.
“oh, i'm sorry,”
“yeah.”
unfortunately, the lady decided to press on, pushing her luck to pry more information from him. “so, itoshi-san, why did you break up with your girlfriend? could you provide your fans more information regarding your love li–”
he frowned deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets and abruptly standing up to leave, his manager pathetically following behind him. “shut up. you're annoying, leave me alone, ugly.”
later that day, you received a text message from sae.
'i need you back asap. i can help you settle here in spain and i'll pay for the plane ticket and shit.'
you would have never responded so quickly to a single text message had you still been in the long distance relationship. but, you still had a life here– your family, your childhood memories. you hesitated, leaving him on read for now, until you could think of something to reply with later.
a few weeks passed.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑
in a way, you blame yourself for thinking you could play the ‘i can change him,’ game. despite this, your efforts, though minimal, were somehow significant. he became increasingly dependent on you, seeking your comfort whenever he was upset over a game or haunted by memories of his harsh past.
he particularly loved resting his head on your comfortable lap as you raked your fingers through his blond hair, or when you kissed the tattoo on his neck, assuring him that everything would be okay.
but it had become exhausting. too repetitive. irritating, even. his daily venting sessions had taken a toll on your mental well-being, and you simply could not bear it any longer. 
unfortunately, the breakup ended on bad terms, with both of you hurling insults and belittling each other.
you happened to run into him at the airport. quickly, you shifted your gaze away, hoping that he had not taken notice of you. but luck seemed to mock you, and you could already hear his distinctive footsteps approaching.
"hey," he said nonchalantly, tapping on your shoulder to get your attention. “look at me, talk to me.”
your expression wavered as you hesitantly met his gaze, pursing your lips unsurely. “hi, michael,” you muttered softly.
a shallow line etched between his brows. “michael? you know that's not my name. say it properly.”
“it's not micha anymore, though,” you retorted, turning and walking toward the airplane boarding aisle as the passenger announcement was made.
“tch,” he scoffed, quickly making his way to his team, who were boarding the plane from the exclusive gate reserved for the elite football team of bastard münchen.
it was unfortunate that he had to board the same plane as you, but this was just a layover for you- you still had another flight to take before reaching your final destination.
closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the circular window, drifting off to sleep. when you slowly opened your eyes, however, you were not met with the kind gaze of the old lady who had been sitting next to you.
instead, you found yourself staring into a pair of cerulean eyes. he rested his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on the armrest, watching you intently.
instantly, your eyes flutter fully open and a hurried gasp escaped your lips. “m-michael, you scared me,” you stuttered.
he rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away. “the old hag was more than happy to sit in the exclusive seats section,” he muttered simply. 
“i still haven't forgiven you,” he added, his eyes darting back to you. “but, fuck, come back already. stop being so stubborn.”
you sighed softly, taking his hands in yours. “michael, your rants aggravated my own anger issues. it literally wasn't good for my mental and emotional health.”
he mumbled something incoherent under his breath. when the plane finally descended one minute later, kaiser stood up, opening the overhead compartment above your seat, and handed you your two small suitcases.
placing his hand on your cheek, he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “...don't block my number. i still want to see you. and talk to you.”
you nodded reluctantly, thanking him for the suitcases. as you looked at him once more before walking away, you spoke softly,
“please, consider going to therapy, micha.”
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୨ৎ 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒
what's better than returning home, exhaustion from work gnawing at your bones, only to find your ex-boyfriend lounging comfortably on a couch in your living room as if he owned the place?
you froze mid-step, breath catching in your throat. “alexis, what the fuck?” you spat angrily.
“y/n!” he immediately sprang up, his face lighting up alarmingly as he flashes you an innocent smile.
he casually strides towards you– as if he had no concept of personal space– and holds up a familiar DVD case. “schatz, remember this? i thought we could watch it, since i remember it was your favourite…”
your pulse quickened, instinctively stepping back. but, ness intercepted, possessively coiling his arms around you and enveloping you in a firm hug. his grip tightened slightly as you attempted to withdraw– but he was careful not to hurt you.
ness buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “you'll watch it with me, won't you?” he smiled, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"alexis, how the fuck did you even get in?" you demanded, mustering the strength to break free and pry his arms off, snatching the remote and turning off the television.
he pouted, "i had the spare key you gave me! now won't you—"
“you're just as creepy and obsessive as ever,” you shot back, feeling intruded and unsettled, “there's a reason i broke up with you.”
his expression crumbled and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “d-don't say that, remember all the good times we had? we belong together!” his voice quivered with desperation as he leaned pathetically against the wall.
“yeah, i thought so too,” you countered, “until i caught you, lurking in the corner of my eye, watching me with a friend at the mall.” you gestured towards the door. “leave, now, and give me back the damned key.”
tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he reluctantly handed back the key. his fingers lingered against yours for a moment longer than necessary. he stepped out of your apartment and threw a weak smile at you over his shoulder. he whispers, “i love you, and i always will.”
you slammed the door shut.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
you heard the doorbell ring as you were occupied with chopping tiny pieces of carrots for your young daughter. with a sigh, you set down the knife on the cutting board, wiping your hands on your apron and reluctantly heading towards the door.
there was no need to check the peephole; you instinctively knew it was your ex-husband, reo.
his monthly visits to hand over the child support had become a begrudgingly predictable routine. you swung the door open, and immediately, his desperate gaze met yours.
“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off with an uninterested glare.
“she's on the play mat in the living room. put the check on the table.” you said indifferently, already turning back toward the kitchen. before you could take a step, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. it's nothing you didn't expect, however; it happened every single month.
“reo, let go,” your voice was firm yet tired.
“baby, please,” he insisted, pulling you towards his chest and embracing you tightly. you felt the warmth of his body against yours, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “i miss you. i really do. do you know how painful it is for me to slowly watch you become a stranger?”
you remained motionless for a moment before shaking your head, gently pushing him away. “no... just no,” you asserted softly, “your parents always humiliated me during our marriage— whether it be in front of guests at social events or large family dinners. i've never felt enough. and worse, you've always ignored it.”
his face twisted into one of guilt as he attempted to draw you back into his embrace. “i promise i'll–”
“reo!” your strangled voice accidentally yells out. “put the check on the table and leave!” the words leave your mouth impulsively in frustration.
you quickly brought a hand to your mouth, then clutched your chest, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as tears welled up in your eyes. in a quieter tone, you pleaded, “reo, please, just leave…”
albeit reluctantly, he complied, retreating with a heavy heart. but, as per the habitual routine, he returned the next month, pleading for your forgiveness and begging to be taken back.
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୨ৎ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
dating nagi was tedious, and even that was an understatement.
"seishiro, i'm seriously considering blocking you if keep calling me every single day, begging me to take you back."
you exasperated, frustration clear as you sat on your bed with the phone on speaker, going through your nighttime skincare routine. you could hear nagi exhale deeply on the other end.
“... 'mm, angel, please,” he whined, his voice growing louder and more desperate. “i miss you, i'm all alone, my apartment's a mess and—”
you scoff, tossing the moisturizer tube onto your bed as you swabbed some onto your face. “your apartment's a mess? i wonder why that is… almost like your girlfriend was doing all the work around the house for you?”
a soft, frustrated groan escaped his lips at your sarcasm. he swallowed hard, his voice cracking, “listen, baby, 'm sorry for takin' you for granted, i want you back in my arms, i want to cuddle w'you like we used to. please, forgive me.”
a long pause hung heavy in the air, his breath hitching in his throat as he waited for your reply, hoping that you'd use what's left of your love for him–if any–to forgive him and return. with a tired sigh, you finally spoke up.
“... no, seishiro. i'm tired. being with you felt like a chore, to be honest. i was the one looking after you– making sure you ate your breakfast and lunch, doing your laundry that's scattered everywhere in your apartment, even reminding you to get off your video games. i'm not your mother...”
you let out all your pent-up frustration once and for all, hoping this would finally put an end to his persistent calls. it was clear you had reached your limit, knowing deep down that you deserved someone who appreciated your time and effort. 
“seriously, why don't you get yourself a maid? dating you was a hassle.”
you stated firmly before hanging up on him.
“dammit, angel…” nagi sighed defeatedly, his slumped body flopping down onto his bed. he lazily tossed his phone aside, feeling drained and overwhelmed. “i'm too tired for this.”
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୨ৎ 𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎
“pleaase, come backkk,”
great. the last thing you had wanted today was to run into your ex as you stood in line at the popcorn stand. you wished the ground below you would rupture and swallow you whole as he clung onto you shamelessly, drawing the attention of those around you.
“please, baby, i need you!” he whined. you felt the embarrassment from his dramatic display heat up your cheeks, shifting uncomfortably as you mouthed apologetic words to the vendor lady.
“stop it, get off me, you're embarrassing me!” you hissed softly, trying to push his head away. his grip was too strong, maintaining his hold on you as his grin widened, revealing his shiny set of golden teeth.
“only if you get back with me?” he bargained, stepping back anyway as he sensed your growing irritation (and embarrassment).
you crossed your arms, shooting him an accusatory glare. “no way in hell. and you don't need me— you were after my money all along, weren't you?”
“t-that's... come on, don't be like that,” he stammered, his face paling as he avoided eye contact.
“you've only ever seen me as your personal walking credit card, hm?” you continued, “thank you, you've drained me of all my money.”
he watched as you received your medium-sized popcorn bucket, thanking the vendor with a polite nod before turning to leave. the lady called out his name, his own popcorn waiting on the counter, still unpaid for.
his head snaps back to you, that absurd, signature smirk curling on his lips, “wait, y/n, aren't you going to p–”
without turning to face him, you muttered under your breath, “no, i'm not paying for your popcorn.”
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୨ৎ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔
you felt a large pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. you stopped swirling your glass of wine, tilting your head up to meet a pair of beautiful, heterochromic eyes.
unfortunately, those eyes belonged to your fucking cheater of an ex.
“don't touch me, jerk,” you spat, cocking your head back down as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip of the crimson drink.
he chuckled lowly, patting your head before shamelessly taking a seat beside you. wrapping his arm around the backrest of the sofa, he pulled you closer.
“c’mon, princess, don't be like that,” he winked, taking a sip of his own drink. he paused as he took in your irritated expression. “...are you really still mad at what happened a year ago?”
you shot him a dirty glare, and he immediately raised his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “sorry, sorry, i was only kidding.”
you finally downed the wine, standing up from the soft comfort of the sofa. before you could move away, his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you back onto the couch, causing you to lean onto him with your hand on his chest.
“okay, but seriously, baby,” he said, delicately gripping your chin between his fingers and leaning in until his lips hovered right above yours. “i really messed up, i'm sorry, i swear she didn't mean anything, you're the one for m–”
“what the fuck do you think you're doing?!” you yelled, slapping his cheek hard enough to whip his head toward the dance floor where numerous women in skimpy outfits were dancing. his gaze lingered on their movements for a while before he felt you pulling away from him.
“yeah, i'm sure you're toootally torn up about it, huh?” you scoffed sarcastically, “keep your eyes wandering, i can see you're overflowing with regret.”
“baby, i only care for y–”
“your sincerity is blinding.”
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˗ˏˋ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 ˎˊ˗
𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 would never push you to the point of discomfort or pressure. instead, he’d approach you casually, genuinely apologizing for any past incidents that might have upset you enough to end things. if you both decided on a mutual break up, then he would definitely try to preserve your relationship to at least that of friends. his main focus would be rebuilding trust between you two, hoping that time and space would allow you both to reconcile in the future. overall, it would be very unlikely for him to verbally express how desperate he is for you, but subtle physical touches are a different topic.
𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐀 would literally show up at your doorstep, begging on his knees for you. he'd be desperately pleading for your forgiveness– he really didn't want to reveal that he had initially been dating you because of a dare, or rather, a bet from his friends. it just slipped out forcefully. he just really, really, really needed that ps5. despite the bet, his feelings for you had genuinely developed over the five-month dating period. however… to earn that prize, he was required to expose his original intent, resulting in heartbreaks, tears, insults, and many “i hate you”s from your side.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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voyter · 15 days ago
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LOVENOTES ! ... valentines special
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pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader
trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.
word count. 5.2k words warnings. neighbor au. secret admirer koo (hes giving stalker a little more ngl). wrote this while on my period so if reader sounds like a moody bitch you know why. me highkey lowkey channeling my hatred for valentines day in this. pure filthy smut. protected sex. blowjob. titty fuck !! COWGIRL YEEHAW !! kinda subby jungkook (BACK TO MY ROOTS). kinda dom reader.
ana’s notes. happy valentines day xx !! wrote this one in a few days so its short and sweet (also rushed it so i can get back to my other stuff oops). hope she is still somewhat enjoyable .. heh. keep your comments positive or say nothing at all, besos my babies !!
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You hated February.
Maybe it was because you were utterly single. Or maybe it was the bitterness that still lingered after all these years. Your last relationship had ended just days before Valentine's Day, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a newfound hatred for the most romantic month of the year.
You despised the store displays overflowing with pink and red, the obnoxious heart shaped balloons, the overpriced bouquets of roses, and the sickly sweet scent of chocolates that seemed to mock you at every turn. Love was everywhere — except in your life.
You fucking hated February!
February 10th, 4 days before Valentine’s Day.
“Hi, Jungkook.”
Jungkook, your cute neighbor, lived in the apartment across from yours. You weren't exactly close, but there was an unspoken familiarity between you, built on polite greetings and the occasional small talk. He was the only person near your age on this floor otherwise occupied by older residents, making your interactions feel practically inevitable.
"Hey," he greeted back, glancing over his shoulder as he jiggled his key into the lock. "How've you been?"
His voice was warm, casual, like he wasn't in a rush to disappear behind his door just yet.
"I'm good. Haven't been doing much but working," you say, fiddling with your keyring in search of the right one.
Jungkook chuckles, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, same. Feels like that’s all I do lately." Work had been wearing him down too — you could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he rolled his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension.
"Ugh, tell me about it," you groan, exhaling dramatically. "What about you? How are you? How's Bam?"
"We're good, yeah," he says, perking up slightly at the mention of his dog. "He just goes to daycare while l'm at work, so he surprises me when he actually listens well.”
"How cute!" you exclaim. "Your baby's growing up so fast."
"Stop," he whines dramatically. "He's gonna be my baby forever."
You giggle, finally finding the key you were searching for and sliding it into the lock. As you turn it, Jungkook shifts on his feet, hesitating for just a moment before his mouth betrays him.
"Hey, you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"
The question lingers in the air, casual yet hesitant, like he hadn't really planned to ask it. His gaze flickers to you, gauging your reaction, but you're too busy scrunching your nose in mild distaste as you push your door open.
"Not really my thing," you admit. "You?"
"Yeah, not my thing either," he chuckles breathily, looking down at his feet.
"No flowers or chocolates for either of us, huh?" you tease lightly.
Jungkook smirks, shaking his head. "Guess not."
You step inside, gripping the edge of the door. "See you later, Jungkook."
"See you," he says with a smile, just before you shut your door.
With a deep exhale, you toss your keys and purse onto the kitchen counter, the weight of the day settling into your shoulders as you slip off your heels. The relief is instant, but the irritation still lingers.
Why was everyone so obsessed with Valentine's Day? The heart shaped decorations, the endless conversations about sappy plans and gifts — it was exhausting.
Fuck Valentine's Day. Fuck February.
You groan, running a hand down your face. All you wanted was to get through the month without being constantly reminded of how single you were.
Was that too much to ask?
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February 11th, 3 days before Valentine’s Day.
Work ends the next day — neither good nor bad. It just ends. The hours blur together, another day checked off the calendar. But the one thing you are sure of? You’re more than ready to get out of this pencil skirt and heels and sink into a nice, warm bubble bath.  
The elevator ride up to your floor is quiet, and you shuffle toward your apartment, already mentally unwinding. But something stops you in your tracks.  
A bouquet of roses sits on the ground in front of your door, deep red petals almost glowing against the dull hallway lighting. An envelope rests beside it.  
Flowers for you. – Ian
Ian… 
You stare at the note, brows furrowing. There was no one named Ian that you knew. No one on this floor by that name either — at least, not that you were aware of. And you weren’t in the mood for some weird mystery admirer situation. You turn it over as if more context might magically appear. But there’s nothing — no last name, no explanation, just those three little words.
With a huff, you unlock your door and step inside, kicking off your heels with a sigh of relief the second you're through. The roses are still clutched in your hand, their scent lingering in the air, but you don’t bother appreciating them. Maybe these were sent to the wrong door. Some poor soul was probably expecting a grand romantic gesture, and now their flowers were here, at your feet.  
Not your problem.  
You glance at the bouquet one last time before scooping it up and marching straight to the trash can. With zero hesitation, you drop the roses inside.
Sorry to whoever was supposed to receive them — should’ve given Ian the right apartment number.
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February 12th, 2 days before Valentine’s Day.
Just like yesterday, something was lying by your door. This time, a box of chocolates.  
After just coming back from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, you were just as over this as you were yesterday. If anything, it was even more annoying now.  
You sigh, scooping up the box and envelope before unlocking your door. The weight of exhaustion clings to your body, the post workout soreness settling in. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, and set your keys and water bottle on the kitchen counter.  
For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the envelope. You should shower. Eat something. Do literally anything else. But instead, curiosity — or maybe irritation — gets the better of you, and you rip open the note. 
The handwriting inside is neat, precise — almost too careful, like every letter was written with intention.  
Something sweet for someone even sweeter. – Ian
So… Ian was persistent.  
You scoff, grabbing the chocolates and tossing both the box and the note straight into the trash without a second thought. For all you knew, this person could've been a psycho, and you sure as hell weren't going to risk getting poisoned.
Shaking your head, you make your way to the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes as you go. The hot water is already running by the time you step in, steam curling around you, but even as the warmth soothes your sore muscles, your mind keeps turning.
Who the hell is lan?
Maybe it was someone from a different floor. But that didn't explain how they knew exactly which apartment was yours.
No, whoever it was has been watching you.
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February 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day.
It's different this time.
No chocolates. No bouquets. Just an envelope.
A single, unassuming envelope resting against your door like it had been waiting for you.
You grunt as you bend down, fingers hesitating for half a second before you rip it open, right there in the dimly lit hallway.
The answer is right in front of you. – lan
A slow, creeping unease washes over you. Your eyes flick up, scanning the hallway, suddenly hyper aware of how empty it is. The silence feels heavier now, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly.
Right in front of you.
Your breath hitches as you turn your head, your gaze landing on the only thing in front of you.
Jungkook's door.
No fucking way.
You hesitate.
You could just pretend you never figured it out. Walk inside, close the door, and let Jungkook keep thinking you were oblivious. Maybe it would be easier that way — to let him stew in his own nerves, to pretend you were just some ditsy neighbor who never connected the dots.
But he was cute. So, so cute.
And that was enough to make you lift your hand and knock.
The door swings open within seconds, like he'd been waiting on the other side.
Jungkook blinks at you, his lips parting slightly in surprise.
"It's you," you say, holding up the note between your fingers.
A breathy laugh escapes him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
He'd been watching you through the peephole this whole time, waiting.
Jungkook practically knew your schedule — when you left for work, when you got back, the perfect window to sneak out, place his little surprises by your door, and disappear before you could ever catch him in the act.
It was him. All this time.
Jungkook was Ian.
You stare at him, expression unreadable as he leans casually against the doorway, a lazy, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
"Thought you'd never figure it out," he says, eyes flickering to the note still pinched between your fingers. "Had to give you a clue."
"How was I supposed to know it was you?!" you exclaim, waving the note in his face. "And what's the deal with lan?"
Jungkook leans against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Fake name," he admits with a small smirk. "Thought it'd be fun. Didn't realize you were this clueless, though."
You scoff, crossing your arms. "Well, sorry I was too busy thinking I had some creepy stalker to suspect it was my neighbor."
His smirk falters slightly, and he scrunches his nose. "Right... yeah, that part wasn't my best move." He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologize on my behalf. I probably should've kept the letters a little less terrifying."
You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, you think?"
Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you know it's me... can I ask again what you're doing tomorrow?"
You smile, a little too amused. Girly, even. "I told you, Jungkook. Not really my thing."
He exhales dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just wounded him. "How can I make it your thing?"
You bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you turn on your heel and walk toward your door. “Goodnight, Jungkook."
"Really?" he asks, almost desperately.
You pause at your door, glancing at him over your shoulder. "My favorite flowers are lilies," you say simply, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
Jungkook watches you, lips parting slightly like he wasn't expecting that answer. Then, he exhales a quiet laugh, tonguing his cheek. "You're unbelievable."
You shrug, a satisfied little smirk in place. And with that, you slip inside, shutting the door behind you — leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot.
Maybe, for the first time in a long time, February didn't seem so awful.
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February 14th, Valentine’s Day.
You woke up today not absolutely hating it. Which was crazy. Because usually, the moment you remembered it was Valentine's Day, you'd launch into an internal monologue about how stupid, overhyped, and downright annoying this holiday was.
But today? Today was different.
You'd gotten dressed with a little more care, taken your time with your makeup, and even picked out a cute outfit. Now, in the kitchen, seamlessly baking cookies, you spot something slip beneath your apartment door.
Your lips twitch into a smile.
Quickly, you set the pan on the stove, turning off the oven before rushing over. You scoop up the envelope, fingers tearing it open with far more excitement than the past few days.
Your heart does a little flip as your eyes scan the words inside.
Be my Valentine? – Jungkook
Squealing, you completely neglect the cookies as you rush to his apartment. You barely wait a second after knocking twice before the door swings open.
Jungkook stands there, dressed simply — jeans and a shirt — but his hair is styled, and in his hands, he holds a bouquet of pink lilies.
His smile is boyish, teasing. "Yes?"
You beam at him, heart racing. "Yes." You take a step closer. "Yes, yes, yes.'
And then, before you can overthink it, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.
Jungkook grins against your lips, pecking them once more before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are warm, filled with something soft, something you think you could get used to.
"Come," he says, lacing his fingers with yours. "I wanna show you something."
He sets the lilies down on the counter, just for a moment, before taking your hand again and leading you down the hallway of his apartment. The quiet hum of the space feels different now — charged with something exciting, something you didn't expect.
He stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that takes your breath away.
Rose petals scatter across the floor, leading to the bed. The curtains are shut, dimming the room into a soft, intimate glow. Candlelight flickers from every corner, casting warm, golden shadows on the walls.
It's romantic in a way that feels like it could be a dream, but it's real. And it's all for you.
"I would've never pegged you for the romantic type," you tease, your smile playful as you look up at him.
He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try..." he says, almost shyly.
He sounds humble, as if he hadn't spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect — setting up every little detail, making sure nothing was out of place. Even dropping off Bam at his brother's house so there'd be no distractions.
Your smile deepens, and you reach for his hand, gently pulling him toward the bed. "Well, I'm glad you did."
As you guide him closer, your heart beats a little faster. The room feels smaller now, with just the two of you in it, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows that make everything seem more intimate.
"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes darkening with desire, a playful curve to his lips as he watches you.
You nod, humming in response, your fingers lightly brushing his chest before you gently push him to sit on the bed. His hands rest on the mattress, steadying himself as he looks up at you, his gaze almost too intense — wide eyes, glossy with something hungry and eager, like a desperate puppy awaiting a command.
"I think you deserve something in return, don't you think?" you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness and something more, something sultry.
His breath hitches, a nervous tension creeping into his expression as he stutters, "W- we don't have to..." His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, a mix of hesitation and desire.
You smirk, moving closer, your fingers grazing along the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on..." you press, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath on his skin. "Don't you wanna open your present?"
His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see his resolve starting to crumble. The space between you feels charged, and with that one simple question, everything shifts.
You grab his hand, guiding it to the hem of your slip dress, your fingers curling over his as you urge him to pull it up. His breath hitches, and he obeys without hesitation, dragging the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your thighs inch by inch. With your help, the dress finally slips over your head and pools at your feet, forgotten. Your breasts bounce slightly in the confines of your red lingerie, the delicate lace pressing against your flushed skin, a sinful contrast that has his gaze darkening with desire.
You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of him. His hands settle gently on your thighs, warm and steady, but you want more. Grabbing his wrists, you guide them lower, pressing his palms firmly against the curve of your ass.  
"Go ahead," you whisper, lips brushing his ear. "I'm all yours."  
A low moan slips from his mouth as his grip tightens. His fingers trail upward, skimming the curve of your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he unhooks it, the straps slipping from your shoulders as the lace falls slack against your skin. You slide it off completely and toss it aside, where it joins the heap of your discarded dress.
"You're so pretty," he breathes, almost whining, his voice dripping with desperation. His fingers flex against your bare skin, and before you can respond, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss.  
It’s all heat and urgency — the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands roam, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you first. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the way his heart pounds just as wildly as yours.
Suddenly, you're slipping off his lap, sinking gracefully to your knees in front of him. His breath hitches, eyes dark with anticipation as he watches you settle between his legs.  
Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Down, past his firm abs, until you reach his belt. You toy with the buckle, teasing, letting your nails scrape lightly against the leather before you start to undo it, dragging out the moment just to see him squirm.
You make quick work of his belt, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness that has him shifting in anticipation. Then, you tug at his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.  
The moment he's freed, his cock springs up, thick and aching, the tip flushed and already leaking. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, his hands gripping the sheets like he’s barely holding himself together.
His cock is so pretty — long, thick, and flushed a deep, needy red. It twitches under your gaze, and you swear you hear him let out the softest whimper.  
Since you had the audacity to throw away his roses and chocolates, it’s only fair you make it up to him. And what better way than giving him a night to remember?  
You start slow, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Your thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the precum before you lean in, lips barely grazing him. Then, with a teasing flick of your tongue, you kitten lick the head, tasting him, savoring the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.
You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his thickness as you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The weight of him on your tongue makes your thighs clench, and the deep groan he lets out only fuels the heat pooling in your belly.  
His hands fly to your hair, fingers threading through the strands before he gathers them into a makeshift ponytail. He tugs just enough to make you hum around him, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.  
"Ah fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening, his hips twitching like he’s holding back from thrusting deeper.
You take him in until you reach your limit, his tip pressing against the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. Then, with a deliberate squeeze of your throat, you swallow around him.  
The reaction is immediate — his whole body jolts, a shudder running through him as a deep, broken moan spills from his lips. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip almost desperate as he fights the urge to push deeper.  
You bob your head a few more times, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him in deep before pulling off with a wet pop. A thin string of spit connects your lips to his flushed tip, and without breaking eye contact, you let it drip onto his cock.  
Wrapping your hand around his slick shaft, you start stroking him, slow and deliberate. The obscene, squelchy sounds echo in the room, mixing with his sharp breaths. His cheeks and ears burn crimson under the dim lighting, and when his hooded eyes finally meet yours, they’re filled with nothing but pure admiration — and need.  
Shifting on your knees, you move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your own. Then, without warning, you do something that catches him completely off guard.  
You grab your breasts, cupping the soft flesh in your hands, and press them together as you lean down, sliding his cock right between them.  
“Oh, gosh,” he moans breathily, his head falling back. His hands grip the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggles to ground himself.  
A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips. “You like this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you press your breasts tighter around his cock, moving up and down to create that delicious friction.  
His chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Yes,” he moans, voice rough, almost wrecked. “Fuckin’ love it.”  
His eyes flicker down, hooded and heavy with desire, watching intently as your perfectly manicured fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock. The way he glides so easily between them, warm and slick, like he was made to be there — it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And he never wants it to end.  
His breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in ragged pants as he forces himself to keep watching, to burn the image of you into his memory. Every sinful, wet glide. Every soft squeeze of your hands. It’s too fucking good.  
Then, his control begins to slip. His hips twitch, then jerk, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him, unable to hold back any longer. The spark of restraint he’d been holding onto is thinning, unraveling fast, and now he’s moving on pure instinct, desperate for more. His palms press into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips start moving, bucking up into the tight warmth of your breasts. It’s slow at first, a gentle roll of his hips, as if he’s savoring the feeling of your soft skin gliding around him.  
But he’s losing himself, second after second. His restraint is slipping, his movements growing more desperate, more needy. The slick sounds of his cock sliding between your tits fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional shaky moan that escapes his lips.  
“You wanna cum?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes — such a contrast to the sinful way you’re working him.  
“Yes!” he blurts out, voice strained and desperate. His grip on the sheets tightens, his hips jerking up a little harder, chasing the friction. “So fucking bad!”  
His chest heaves, abs flexing with each ragged breath as he watches you, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s right there — at the brink of his release, barely holding on, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.
But you don’t let him.  
Instead, you pull away, leaving him aching, throbbing, desperate. A strangled whine escapes his lips as his cock twitches in the empty space where your warmth once surrounded him. His hands flex against the sheets, like he wants to grab you, to pull you back, to demand you finish what you started.  
But before he can, you rise to your feet and climb back onto his lap, your lips crashing into his in a searing, breath stealing kiss. He groans into your mouth, rough and frustrated, his hands immediately finding your hips, gripping them so tightly you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.  
He’s all anguish, all need, kissing you like he’s trying to take back the pleasure you just ripped away from him. His tongue is desperate, his teeth grazing your lips, his hips bucking up into you on pure instinct. He’s losing his mind, and you love every second of it.
You grab the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin before tugging it up and over his head. He barely hesitates, lifting his arms to help you before tossing it aside, letting it join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.  
With a frustrated grunt, he kicks off his jeans completely, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock still aching, flushed, and desperate for relief. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and heavy with lust as he shifts back onto the bed, settling against the pillows.  
You strip yourself from your panties before you climb onto the bed, straddling him with ease, your thighs bracketing his waist. His cock, hard and heavy, nudges against your thigh, smearing precum against your flushed skin.  
“Condom?” you ask.  
Without hesitation, he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking the drawer open. His movements are hurried, almost frantic, as he grabs a foil packet from the box inside. The crinkle of the wrapper fills the space between you as he rips it open with his teeth, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, dark and filled with anticipation.
He rolls the condom just over the tip, his breath shaky, but before he can finish, you take over. Your fingers brush against his as you grasp the base of his cock, sliding the latex down slowly, teasingly, making sure it fits snugly around his thick length.  
Then, with a steadying breath, you adjust yourself over him, holding his cock by the base as you position yourself just right. The anticipation is thick in the air, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin — though you both know he’s barely holding himself together. Slowly, you sink down, taking him inch by inch, feeling the way he stretches you open. The delicious burn has you both gasping, your breath hitching as pleasure overtakes you. Beneath you, Jungkook moans, his jaw clenched as he fights to keep control, his fingers pressing bruising marks into your hips.  
Your hands find their way on his broad, sweaty chest, fingers splayed across his firm muscles as you start to move. Lifting up just enough before sinking back down, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath.  
As the stretch becomes more comfortable and your pussy grows wetter, the glide becomes effortless, letting you move with ease. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mingling with both of your breathy moans.  
You start bouncing faster, your rhythm picking up with each passing second. His cock drags against your walls just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch, your nails digging into his chest.  
“You’re so fuckin’ big, baby,” you moan, your voice breaking with every bounce, pleasure shooting through you with each movement.  
Beneath you, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh — flustered, shy even. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if your words are too much for him to handle. He doesn’t say anything back, just exhales shakily, completely overwhelmed by the way you feel wrapped around him.  
You push yourself up from his chest, hands moving behind you to plant firmly on his thighs, changing the angle. The shift makes everything deeper, makes his cock hit spots that have your head tilting back, a sharp moan escaping your lips.  
His hands roam up your waist, his fingers spreading wide as they slide up to your tits. He palms them with reverence, his touch almost hesitant at first, before he gives in, squeezing, kneading, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. His breath stutters beneath you, his head pressing back into the pillows, completely lost in the way you feel.
One of his hands slowly makes its way down, his fingers grazing over your stomach before his thumb finds your clit. The first touch is gentle, testing, but when he feels the way you shudder above him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, he starts rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  
A sharp gasp escapes you, your thighs trembling as the pleasure intensifies. “Jungkook-” you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as your movements start getting sloppy, more frantic.  
He just watches you, completely mesmerized. His breath is ragged, his brows drawn together in pure concentration as he works you closer to your high, his thumb pressing down a little harder, rubbing faster, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your bouncing.  
His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, and with his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit, the pleasure swells uncontrollably. It’s too much — all consuming, dizzying, rushing over you faster than you expected.  
Sensing the closeness of your release, Jungkook plants his feet against the mattress, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts up into you. His pace stutters, his hips snapping up with more urgency as he nears his own breaking point, chasing the same high that you were.
At that exact moment, you clench tightly around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, intense and electrifying. It’s as if everything pulses in rhythm, the shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you. At the same time, he’s driven to the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside the condom, his body trembling as his release mixes with yours.
You both ride out your highs, your bodies trembling together as the room fills with your breathy moans, the sound thick with pleasure. Each shudder, each gasp, echoes in the stillness, a shared moment of pure connection and release.
Once the pleasure starts to subside, you gently pull yourself off of Jungkook’s softening cock, settling beside him. He removes the condom with a quick, practiced motion, tying it up before tossing it into the trash beside his nightstand. With a soft sigh, he reclines back, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your chest. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp as the two of you linger in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s embrace.
“Thank you for today,” you say softly, your voice laced with gratitude.
Jungkook lifts his head from your chest, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His smirk is playful as he teases, “Is it your thing now? Or should I have Ian sending you flowers and letters every year from now on?”
You laugh, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Maybe have Jungkook send them instead, yeah?”
He hums in thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Noted,” he says with a grin before leaning in, capturing your lips in another sweet kiss. He pulls back slightly, a playful spark in his gaze. “So, how about dinner and a movie?”
You sit up, a teasing smile forming as you push him back by his chest, then straddle him once more. You lean down, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “I was thinking maybe round two.”
He chuckles, a low sound of amusement escaping him as his hand reaches for another condom in the drawer. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he prepares for what’s to come.
Oh yeah, Valentine’s Day was most definitely your thing now.
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© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.
1K notes · View notes
vivimura · 2 months ago
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PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader
SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.
GENRE ~ smut, ab riding, pwop(?).
WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k
ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here
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visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.
you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.
with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.
"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.” 
having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.
he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.
with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.
you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.
“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.
he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."
oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.
“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.
riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.
“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing. 
he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.
he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"
you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."
you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”
riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."
“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”
his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"
one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.
his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.
“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.
“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.
the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.
“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.
“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.
you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.
he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment. 
“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗
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nosyp · 2 months ago
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Twst Second Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'
First years | Third years
A/N = WOOOHOOOO I'm actually continuing it, pls like share comment n subscribe y'all!1!!11!
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Riddle Rosehearts
He stops mid-motion, his eyes narrowing sharply at the person.
“Excuse me? I believe you’ve forgotten your manners.” he says as he crosses his arms, stepping in front of you like a shield.
His voice is firm but icy, “They’re not yours to address so casually.”
He’ll fume about it later, pacing and ranting to himself about the audacity. Like "THEY did not deserve to call you by THAT nickname, only I can,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie immediately tenses when the sound is processed, body unmoving, but hides it behind a grin.
“Honey? That’s cute, but I think you’ve got the wrong person.” he tells the other person.
Casually drapes his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.
Might ‘accidentally’ use his connections to make sure that person doesn’t get too comfortable around you.
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Azul Ashengrotto
His smile falters for a fraction of a second before he regains his composure.
“Honey? Sweetheart? My, how bold of you to use such familiar terms.”
Steps in with a charming but slightly threatening demeanor.
“You must be unaware that (Y/N) is under my care. Do let me know if I need to clarify further.”
Quietly seethes, thinking about ways to ensure the offender never oversteps again.
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Jade Leech
He smiles at the offender, giving a polite and eerie smile, kind of giving the signal to run too.
“Oh? How endearing. Though, I do believe that’s our thing. Right (Y/N)?”
Steps closer to you, his hand resting lightly on your back.
Keeps his calm demeanor, but there’s a promise of subtle revenge in his tone.
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Floyd Leech
Immediately frowns, leaning in with an uncomfortably close stare.
“Eh? Honey? Sweetheart? That’s MY nickname for Shrimpy!”
Wraps you up in a possessive hug, grumbling about how annoying the offender is.
Might or might not... escalate to something worse... maybe yelling or maybe chasing the person off if his mood sours.
HEY! At least it's safe to say that guy's probably not gonna ever try anything with you ever again. :)
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Kalim Al-Asim
Looks surprised at first, but quickly recovers with a cheerful laugh.
“Oh, (Y/N)’s the sweetest, aren’t they? I’m lucky to have them!”
He then takes your hand or links arms with you to show you’re his.
Feels a little twinge of jealousy but lets it slide because he’s confident in your bond.
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Jamil Viper
Freezes for a split second before letting out a low chuckle.
“They must’ve mistaken you for someone else.” he says in disbelief, after all why would someone else call you that?
Later, he'll position himself between you and the offender.
Makes a mental note to remember the person’s face in case they try again.
If they do try again, say bye bye.
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Silver
His initial reaction is just to blink in surprise, but then he manages to remains calm.
“Honey? I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. Maybe it was just an honest mistake.”
Gently shifts closer to you, his protective instincts kicking in.
Though polite, he gives the offender a piercing look, silently warning them to back off.
Later, he might overthink the situation and wonder if he should’ve been more assertive.
A/N = Ngl i feel like some were ooc.... if some are please do tell i'll rewrite. FEEDBACK is appreciated btw!!!
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heegyukeluv · 12 days ago
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CHAPTER ONE: you&me
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pairing: heeseung x afab!reader
synopsis: Each new cycle marks a new chapter in life’s story. You, once so sure of your choices, found yourself questioning everything when you met Heeseung, someone too perfect to be real. He adapted to you effortlessly, and it felt just as natural for him as it did for you. Now, you and Heeseung were starting a new chapter together, one that would unfold shared.
my's note: sub hee for my one and only babi!!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOVE!!!
warnings: university teacher y/n and university teacher heeseung, pet names (baby, babe, love…), yn is a menace ngl, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, SUB HEE!!!, protected and unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m), nipple play (m), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl/riding, overstimulation, edging, drooling a lil, fingering (f), bathroom sex, reader calls hee ‘good boy’, lowkey teacher kink but not really he just uses the word once and in a teasing way i swear… lmk if i missed something!
wc: 33k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis
No matter how consistent your routine had become, there was always a flutter of nerves accompanying you as you crossed the tall iron gates, the friendly greeting from the security guard sounding like a familiar melody to your ears.
It was nothing like the first time, of course. You could vividly recall the ache in your stomach from the sheer nervousness and the fear of making mistakes or embarrassing yourself. Your legs trembling, your eyes darting everywhere, and even your voice had betrayed you, faltering when you tried to interact with your superiors. But now, there was a core of pleasant anticipation – an excitement for the unknown.
After all, teaching might be routine, but every lesson offered a fresh opportunity to explore the day.
You had always embraced an open, flexible teaching style, striving to be the kind of professor who not only imparted knowledge but also genuinely listened to students and their unique perspectives. This approach wasn’t just a personal trait – it had significantly enhanced your professional reputation.
In fact, it had earned you a place on the director’s radar, leading to better positions in a surprisingly short amount of time.
In the academic hierarchy, older and more experienced educators typically had first pick of the subjects they would teach at the start of the year. Newer teachers were left with the “leftovers” – the so-called duller, broader courses that, in some ways, stifled creativity.
But you had made the best of it. You worked tirelessly, and in just two years, you achieved remarkable goals that reshaped how the director viewed you. Now, you held a slightly higher position with more freedom in choosing your courses. Of course, there were still teachers ahead of you who claimed the more prestigious subjects, the ones you could only dream of teaching someday.
It was the beginning of a new year, which meant an influx of fresh teachers. In your field – psychology – this was relatively rare. The college’s prestige meant they only hired truly promising names, which resulted in a very niche demand for positions. This, in turn, created a noticeable lack in areas like yours, where teaching needed to be particularly well-structured and thoughtfully delivered.
This semester, your schedule included Social Psychology, Personality Psychology, and Statistics.
Statistics was still a taboo subject in the field – many students avoided it like the plague, and you had been one of them as well, both as a teacher and as a learner. Yet, much to your dismay, the “dreaded course” had been assigned to you and you couldn’t do anything other than accept your fate.
And you did embrace it as a self challenge, to think beyond the usual in order to offer something engaging and valuable other than the basic 1+1 concepts that so often felt lacking. 
As you made your way, you didn’t expect any new hires in your department at all, as no one had informed you otherwise. So your surprise was undeniable when you walked into the faculty lounge and immediately spotted an unfamiliar face – or rather, a back.
It appeared to be a man, his posture slightly hunched forward, his broad shoulders and apparent firm back hinted at his height, significantly taller than you.
He was dressed in the typical attire of a freshly hired professor: slacks, dress shoes, and a neatly tucked-in shirt beneath a blazer that, if you were honest, hugged his frame almost too perfectly.
He was also murmuring something under his breath, a sort of self-assurance mantra that sounded similar to: “You’ve got this. It’s fine. They’re just teenagers. Or young adults. It doesn't matter. You’re smart.”
With your curiosity picked, your steps led you to fully enter the room, the soft click of the door coinciding with your calm, yet friendly voice breaking the air.
“I used to say the exact same thing to myself.”
The man turned abruptly, now offering you a full view of his face as his hands froze mid-motion, still in the process of fastening his blazer. 
Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours, resembling a deer caught in headlights moments away from disaster, like he was doing something wrong. Maybe he felt like when you’re doing exercises in your room and your parents step in, the embarrassment flowing through every inch of your skin.
His lips, glistening in a shade of red, hung open in shock while quick, uneven breaths escaped them, a clear sign that the surprise had been mutual, though his seemed far more intense.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you murmured, a slightly shy smile gracing the corners of your lips as you blinked, softening your features. 
Taking slow, deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you two, with the man now completely silent, but turned to face you entirely, his demeanor awkward and endearing in a way that tugged at something warm inside you. Something oddly.
“Y/N.” You extended your hand as politely as you could, ignoring the tingle on your fingertips as you waited for the ensuing touch. The man stared at your fingers adorned with beautiful rings for a brief moment before jolting and taking it in his with a careful grip, greeting back.
“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”
You couldn’t deny nor hide that his voice was somehow comforting, not too deep, not too high, just perfectly balanced to surprise you with how your heart picked up its pace at the sound.
His touch was different too; palm warm and slightly sweaty, likely from nerves, but you didn’t mind. If he was indeed a new hire, a little nervousness was to be expected. Not to mention the divergence of his steady and kind grasp.
The silence that followed as you released the handshake bordered on awkwardness, your eyes trying to focus on anything other than the man that now could be named as Heeseung. However, an unusual aura seemed to draw your attention back to him, like a silent hypnosis, magnetic, an irresistible force pulling you to trace the fragments of what was laid bare for you to drink in about his undeniable beauty.
And Heeseung took a moment to take in your appearance as well, shamelessly letting his gaze wander over your figure and consequently becoming unaware you did just the exact same thing. 
You wore fitted black slacks that subtly accentuated your thighs and waist, paired with a loose blouse tucked haphazardly into your waistband on one side. A casual yet stylish look, adequate to your job, and sufficient to drive some guys – Heeseung, in specific – to teeter the edge of losing his breath. 
One hand held your bag while the other toyed absentmindedly with the necklace around your neck, a gold watch wrapped around your wrist that stirred Heeseung’s acknowledgment about your liking for accessories.
You had your posture relaxed and seductive, even, as your piercing gaze drifted through Heeseung’s body. Attractive – undeniably so.
He looked like the kind of professor who would easily become a hit among the students – and maybe some other teachers – and you couldn’t help but wonder what and when rumors might start circulating about him.
Back in your day, you had been the subject of whispers yourself. At first it had intimidated you, not knowing how to take in the compliments and the murmurs around you, but you soon decided to switch it into confidence, growing more comfortable in your role with each passing day. It even helped you connect with your students in a way that felt natural and genuine, a give-and-take dynamic you had come to love.
“So… Heeseung,” you cleared your throat, breaking the mutual analysis with a sharp cut. The sound of your voice pulled his attention back to your face. You smiled at his flustered cheeks and innocent gaze. “You’re new here, I assume?”
“Yep. First day,” he replied with an obvious nervous sigh, nibbling his bottom lip before tilting his head with a curious expression. “Any memos?”
A soft hum was your initial response, paired with a thoughtful look as your eyes went towards a random spot to the side, most likely you were in deep thought to find the right answer. Heeseung mentally cursed himself for finding you cute with the subtle pout of your lips and the slight furrow of your brow that added to your charm.
At the same time, he didn’t judge himself too harshly. You were undeniably beautiful, and he was frankly surprised he was managing to have even this minimal conversation with you without much stutter.
“Don’t drink the coffee from earlier in the morning,” you finally concluded, nodding slightly to yourself. Heeseung narrowed his eyes to you before a smirk creeped on the corners of his mouth. “It’s awful. The one during the lunch break is much better.”
Then you then motioned in the direction of Heeseung’s chest with your chin, both your hands now firmly gripping your bag’s strap, because your fingers buzzed with a sudden need to be the one undoing his buttons.
“And maybe leave the top button of your shirt open, if you’re comfortable. If you’re too stiffly dressed, the students might see you as overly serious…” You paused abruptly, your eyes widening slightly, gesticulating amidst your awkward state. “Not that being serious is a bad thing! It’s just… you know. Teenagers. Appearances sometimes mean everything to them.”
Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his eyes curling into small crescents as he did. “Don’t worry, I get it. That was actually one of my concerns, to be honest.”
As he calmly spoke, his hands began to undo the buttons of his blazer, revealing the shirt beneath for your hungry gaze, as well as a small glimpse of his bare chest. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the sight, an unwelcome heat rising to your cheeks because, yeah, you could tell by the face and part of the exposed neck that Heeseung had honeyed skin.
But damn. Was there a reason for him to be completely attractive? He probably had some terrible habit, or a major red flag, or was burdened with deep personal flaws, because a man that good-looking rarely had good character.
Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back and forced a strained smile, more than ready to escape before your thoughts could spiral further, fearing your composure would crumble completely in front of Heeseung and ruin the first impression you made on him.
Not that you cared much about making a good impression, but he seemed to effortlessly bring out behaviors in you that were just a little beyond your control and definitely unusual from you.
“Well, enjoy your first day,” you said in a tone that hinted at goodbye, already tracing your path to the door. And when everything appeared to be falling into place, you casually let it slip, exuding a natural sense of sensuality. “I hope we’ll see more of each other around here.”
Unfortunately or not, Heeseung caught on right away. And to make matters worse, he mimicked your tone, a little more shy though.
“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too.”
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The following weeks at work went as normally as possible. Classes here and there, some students sharing personal topics with you because they felt comfortable, lunch breaks, and some free hours that always led you to the teachers’ office room to review your lesson plans and prepare for the upcoming ones, along with the daily reports you needed to write in short, concise paragraphs, just for bureaucratic purposes.
You had already filled out your syllabus for the semester, which was promptly reviewed and approved so you could start your journey in that academic year. But still, there was that unmistakable nervous feeling that seemed to follow you around.
Part of that sensation stemmed from personal anxiety, which you were able to slowly dissipate as you worked through your teaching plans, which is exactly what you were doing at that very moment.
The teachers’ room wasn’t usually filled with other professors because many preferred to occupy other spots on campus that offered just as much comfort, or even stay in their cars, claiming that they wouldn’t be disturbed in any way.
You had found yourself visiting the library and even an open area near trees and nature to catch up on your studies and lesson plans. But there, in that air-conditioned room, where coffee was free and easily accessible – and, by the afternoon, delicious – and a comfortable chair awaited, it seemed like the perfect place to try and get your head together.
There was something tangled inside you, something that didn’t seem to have a clear root, as if something clouded your ability to see what was causing you such distress. Everything seemed to revolve around the damn statistics class, which had become a growing source of stress in your planning.
Every time you thought about it, your head seemed to spin. You had taught it quite a few times, with the next class coming up in a few minutes and the sensation of lacking overwhelming you.
It almost felt pathetic, and it made you laugh without humor when you remembered your students asking how a psychologist like you could have moments of anxiety.
And then there was the part of the class where you would say that when you’re a psychologist, you don’t stop being human. Emotions, sensations, feelings – they all stay with you, even when you know relaxation techniques or how to listen to other people's problems.
Thinking about that calmed you a little. Reminding yourself that you’re human, that you feel and can feel the way your body decides to feel in certain situations. It’s natural to feel anxious about something beyond your control or something you’re uncertain about, and just admitting that is a step towards something that could bring relief.
Unfortunately, sometimes you can’t just ignore the situation, not when you’re a teacher who needs to take responsibility for the subjects you teach, since the future of your students passes through your hands every lesson and that alone carries a height of tons.
“Am I interrupting?”
Nothing had prepared you to hear someone’s voice weaving through your tormented thoughts, so your immediate response was to tense up and widen your eyes, your pulse increasing its beats significantly as your gaze lifted to meet the owner of your startle.
A breath escaped from your parted lips and formed a single name. “Heeseung?”
Your heartbeat sped up even more. 
The shock was evident in every part of your body, from the way you had stiffened entirely, to the clear flush on your face. Noticing your state, Heeseung chuckled softly.
“That’s me.”
Without a single word, your gaze instinctively swept across every detail of him, and you had to restrain yourself from succumbing to the impulse of simply drooling as you did so.
Heeseung was dressed casually, that little heads-up given him earlier the week lingered on the back of his mind long enough for him to abandon the idea of being too formal and dress more laid-back, without losing the air of vanity and elegance he enjoyed to carry.
Today, he wore a simple white dress shirt and black pants, ones that hugged his long legs with perfection. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose in a ridiculously attractive way, framing his face with care, and his ears were adorned with equal gold earrings, gleaming like drops of sunlight, perfectly attuned to his skin as if they had been forged by the same fire, crafted to exist as one.
There was no reason for that man to be walking around so excessively hot like that. 
Noticing your silence and spaced-out look, as if you were somewhere else, Heeseung got worried.
“Is everything okay?” The question was softly thrown at you, while he settled into the chair in front of the desk where you were hunched over various papers.
You cleared your throat and straightened up, blinking in embarrassment while fixing the papers. You – and your environment – were a mess, and Heeseung wasn’t helping much so far.
“Uh… Kinda,” you forced a smile, struggling to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.
Damn, how easy it was to be attracted to attractive good-looking men – a serious pleonasm. “I’m a little…” Your head tilted quickly to the side as you sucked on your teeth, hissing. “Overwhelmed?”
You had bumped into him in the hallways since exchanging names in the staff room, but always in a rush, stuck in your respective hectic routines, never having time to chat. 
There was this weight of curiosity about how he was adjusting, how he was handling the burden of being a newly hired professor at a university, if he had already shaped his persona for the academic context, among other things, that hovered over you.
Still, one thing was undeniable: he looked great, as always. And that made everything even more chaotic for you.
“With what?”
The way Heeseung asked carried a genuine air of interest, rather than superficial curiosity, the kind of just being polite or whatever. That alone was enough to make you feel comfortable opening your mouth and spilling all your anguish. He might have been newly hired, but he exuded an air of care that instantly put you at ease.
Out of habit, you bit down on your lower lip. It was a clear tell about a specific kind of nervousness that settled in your stomach whenever you were up to something, ready to dive into some mess, probably scheming. At least, that was what your friends always said about you in moments like these.
Heeseung noticed the movement immediately, his gaze fixed on the way your teeth pressed into what looked like an impossibly soft lip, which only served as an invite to his eyes to linger longer, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite tell if it was the subtle gloss coating and glistening under the light, or its natural color, but some detail about it had him completely mesmerized with such a particular and random trait.
Heeseung considered himself someone ridiculously and pathetically drawn to specific details in people when he found himself captivated by them. There were plenty of other aspects of your figure that caught his attention – like the elegant curve of your collarbone or the way you always seemed to wear at least one accessory perfectly aligned with your outfit.
But in that very moment, your lips took center stage, basking in the spotlight of his focus.
Maybe it was because he had been wondering about their taste over the past few days, ever since your first encounter. Whether the softness they seemed to exude was as velvety as it looked. Whether they would fit seamlessly against his. Whether they would deliver that fleeting, cloud-like sensation they wordlessly promised to anyone paying close enough attention.
For that reason, he caught the exact way the pressure of your teeth against your lip eased and unraveled – a simple, subtle movement that somehow felt magnified under the lens of his gaze. And the reason the lip biting was undone was because it had been dissolved when you said something he completely missed.
“Sorry,” Heeseung shook his head, as though it helped his mind to snap back into reality. “Come again?”
You giggled at his adorableness, casually placing your hands on the table and fiddling with your ring.
“I asked if you know anything about statistics.”
Only then did Heeseung lift his gaze, praying that the warmth spreading through his cheeks and to the point of his ears was merely a sensation, not an obvious giveaway that he was embarrassed, exposing its redness. 
“Uh, it's... not really my thing,” he scratched the back of his neck, desperately avoiding your piercing stare.
How did something so simple manage to throw him off so completely? Maybe it was because you subtly leaned forward, closing the distance between your faces while maintaining an almost too confident air.
Everything about you screamed confidence. You carried yourself with ease. Your steps were purposeful, yet casual. You smiled effortlessly, but never lost your composure; you knew how to assert yourself without being stern. He had heard whispers about how amazing your classes were and how you effortlessly mastered every subject you taught. And on top of that, you were, quite simply, breathtaking.
“But do you think you could help me?”
Heeseung nearly choked on his saliva, finding it hard to swallow the nervous lump that grew down his throat. You briefly took notice of how prominent his Adam’s apple bobbed, and for some reason you wondered if he was sensible in that area. 
“Well, I guess... I could try. Can’t make any promises, though…” He answered with his voice sounding tentative and sincere. His eyes shifted to the papers scattered in front of you, then back to your face, that now held a hint of a cute smile.
A cute smile that hid something darker beneath it.
You cocked your head to the side ever so slightly, allowing your eyes to quietly travel across Heeseung’s features. He hadn’t been concealing his shameless gaze on your lips earlier, which triggered your natural instinct to take control – a role you relished.
The way Heeseung faltered in front of you was curious. The clear struggle to collect himself, to answer without his voice betraying him, trying desperately to maintain eye contact and failing adorably, only made you want to dive deeper into that kind of conversation, to dig out each reaction he managed to express before your presence.
What had started as a simple request for help between colleagues now bordered on something far more seductive.
“Don’t worry about it, Heeseung,” you made sure to let his name sound even more velvety, boldly placing your hand on top of his with the silent excuse of showing the papers in front of you. “I just need a little guidance. I feel like part of what I’ve planned for my lessons isn’t good enough.”
Ah, yes. Lessons. That was what you were talking about. For a brief moment, Heeseung wondered how the air between you had shifted so easily, from the awkward tension to something electric and tantalizing, stirring his heart to skip several beats in such a short amount of time. And it wasn’t the first time.
Even in your first meeting, the exchange of glances had been too intense for a mere greeting between coworkers.
“Hm,” Heeseung nodded, swallowing hard again because he hadn't expected the subtle touch of your soft hand on his. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but it definitely affected his body. “Let me see.”
When he took the papers into his grasp, he solely visualized smudges, scattered letters, and nothing that made sense to his poor dizzy head. Not because of the content – although he struggled with statistics –, but purely because of the weight of your gaze resting over him, analyzing every tiny reaction with a seriousness and intensity that felt too much to bear without wavering.
Heeseung felt like he was going to explode at any moment and couldn’t help the urge to escape the invisible strings that captured his entire being, each of them being held by your pretty fingers.
From the first time you met it should have been just another common interaction with a colleague – like it had been with Lia, Sunghoon, or Yunjin. A polite greeting, a quick “good luck,” followed by a kind smile and that was it. Except, with you, it wasn’t.
He remembers how the sentences you two traded didn’t leave gaps to develop things beyond the standard colleague relationship, even though something definitely was left open, unresolved. 
A flavor similar to craving settled at the back of Heeseung’s throat, like you were crafted specifically to intrigue him, sparking a quiet and relentless desire to keep you close, even if only to watch you from a certain distance.
He often caught himself looking for you throughout the day, whether in the cafeteria during his lunch break, where his curious gaze wandered over the other professors in the hope of spotting your face among them, or between classes, when he would seize a moment to head to the restroom and secretly wish to run into you along the way.
And he had, in fact, seen you a few times since that first day, mostly in the corridors – which, admittedly, were far from ideal. It was rare to find you in the faculty lounge, and even when he did, you always seemed to be in a rush – though, to be fair, so was he most of the time.
None of these fleeting encounters allowed for a proper conversation, the kind where he could ask you something personal and hear your assured tone as you answered, only fueling his curiosity further.
Heeseung wanted to know you. To uncover details that weren’t obvious to everyone else. Sure, many had seen the way you acted as a professor, but did they know your favorite movie? Maybe they did – but did they know why? 
He wanted to dive deep, to understand the layers of you. And he didn’t blame himself for being interested in a colleague. The only thing that might hold him back was the possibility of rejection if he dared to push too far – but even then, he figured it would be worth the risk.
The real challenge was finding the courage to even try.
Seeing you there now felt like a stroke of luck. He had dismissed his students early, and it just so happened that your free period coincided with his. What caught him off guard, though, was simply you. Captivating, magnetic, brimming with confidence.
There was no certain way to pinpoint whatever generated his enthrallment towards you; maybe the manner you behaved around the campus, exuding your unmistakable graceful confidence marked something profound, and so far unnamable, in him. Or perhaps how your hands carried your bag nonchalantly, wrists always packed with accessories that jiggled softly, creating a delicate melody as you walked.
Everything about you had an irresistible air, an atmosphere nearly too blinding, and perhaps that was the hardest part to loose his nerves around you.
“Heeseung?” 
Your voice calling his name was more than enough to bring his existence back to the harsh reality where he had to face you – and your mesmerizing form –, with expectant eyes that also showed somewhat a darker emotion. 
Heeseung didn’t expect his voice to sound so quiet and distant when he answered, let alone his eyes to glance up expressing the way he got lost, but he was far too gone to properly understand the scenario. 
“Yes?”
On the other hand, you were really enjoying the unfolding scene, where Heeseung clearly fought his demons in order to keep his composure. Toying with the devil, you pushed further.
“Is it good?”
“What?” He was too adorable for your heart to handle, blinking his big bambi eyes in confusion before the whole skin of his face turned into a faint crimson tone. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he finally cleared his throat, moving his gaze back to the paper. “I… Mmh, I’d change this part,” he pointed to a specific paragraph where you also had highlighted it; automatically, you moved a bit closer so you could see it with him. “To something more dynamic, like… Using examples?”
You leaned in just enough to make him glance at you nervously, your voice dipping into an unmatched softness. “Examples, huh? What would you suggest?”
Heeseung shrugged and averted his gaze, his brow furrowing deeply as he struggled to come up with an appropriate example. Yes, he had read your lesson summary amidst the chaos in his head. And yes, he wanted to help you. But you – simply you – with your sweet citrusy scent, your effortless, self-assured demeanor, and the way your body leaned closer and closer to his, were utterly suffocating his straight thoughts.
You noticed how he pouted slightly as he focused, which left you experiencing a weird fondness, melting in your chest. 
A few seconds later, his gaze flickered between you and the paper. “Uh, maybe you could tie it to something relatable, like…” He paused, hoping his racing mind wouldn’t betray him too much. “You could compare it to... say, a study on preferences. Like how many people prefer... uh, dating versus not dating,” but of course, his brain had to go there. “I mean– You could show the numbers and... interpret what they reveal, use graphs and tools to illustrate how your students might apply statistics in psychology, for research and similar– Damn, sorry. I don’t need to explain that part to you. Definitely not.”
His rambling was both amusing and endearing, and you had to summon strength from the depths of your soul not to reach out and pinch his adorably pouty cheeks. Fuck it, why did he have to be like this?
“I got it, yeah,” you cut in with a low laugh. “That I can do. Thanks, Heeseung.”
His name rolled off your tongue like honey, leaving him flustered yet oddly satisfied at the sound of your appreciation. Heeseung started to wonder if you might need more help, just to hear you say his name again along with a few praises.
You softly took the paper back and jotted down a note where he had demarcated, making sure to remember and use the tip later. A quick glance at your watch reminded you that your time was running out – you needed to get to the dreaded class you were about to teach.
“Well,” gathering all your materials and placing some inside your bag, you began. You liked to carry your lesson book in your arms, it gave you a particular sense of authority and acknowledgment that only you understood. “Unfortunately, I need to go.”
As you stood up, Heeseung followed your movements with careful attention, his own body wanting to get on his feet as well, much to copy you and maybe walk you to your class. He held himself back, because that would be too pathetic. And he had already exhausted his quota of embarrassment in front of you.
You looked at him, continuing, “But before I leave, I have one more question for you.”
“About what?” He asked, his voice soft but tinged with confusion and curiosity.
“Do you fall into the group that prefers dating or not dating?”
You giggled at his immediate response; his wide eyes, his hands fumbling nervously, one of them darting to adjust his glasses as your unwavering gaze lingered on him.
“Um,” he shifted in his seat, not daring to look at you. “Dating.”
That had been a calculated move on your part, a way to test the waters and find out if he had any romantic ties. Surely, a man as handsome, intelligent, and kind as Heeseung had someone. But the way he answered, paired with his demeanor around you during your few encounters, piqued your curiosity and strengthened your belief that he wasn’t taken.
“Just to clarify, Heeseung,” you said, placing your book back on the table and flattening your hands on its surface. Leaning slightly forward, you closed the space between your faces. Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on your unwavering ones. “Are you single?”
“Yes,” he answered shyly yet promptly, his cheeks now burning with heat. “I am single.”
“Good,” you said with a satisfied nod, not even attempting to hide your delight in his response. Straightening up, you grabbed your things and prepared to leave, a smile dancing on your lips. “Very good, Heeseung.”
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You had a lecture to lead in a few minutes and hoped to grab a quick bite while reviewing your notes – a personal mantra that steadied your nerves and boosted your confidence, a ritual that you tried not to break. However, fate had different plans for you that day, starting with the unusual buzz of conversation seeping through the door of the faculty lounge, indicating more people had the same plan of occupying the room.
What caught you off guard, though, as your hand settled on the knob and you gently pushed the door open, careful not to disrupt the animated chatter, was spotting Heeseung's bright presence among the group of professors.
The instant hush that followed sent three pairs of eyes towards you, yet yours locked singularly on his. Hesseung’s expression softened automatically, shifting from the lingering remnants of a joyful laughter to something tender and inviting.
Even by the distance, you could nearly feel his irises glimmering with warmth, a genuine glow of happiness lighting up his features little by little. Internally, his heart picked up its pace, the contrast of nervous energy coursing through his body was almost palpable, his palms already growing clammy.
“Please, carry on as if I’m not here,” you quipped with a cheeky smile, not bothering to properly greet each individual. “Pretend I’m a ghost. I’m just here to grab a book,” you added, weaving a subtle lie into your words as you made your way towards the bookshelf in the corner.
A few chuckles rippled through the room before the conversation resumed, now with only two participants since one of them felt the urge to follow you every move. You wondered why you had gone through the effort of lying and how you would deal with your lunch plans elsewhere, considering none of the current people aligned with your usual solitary break.
Well… One of them could maybe help you.
“Hey,” a quiet voice cut through, pulling you from your thoughts as you lingered too long by the shelf. Your head snapped to the side, finding Heeseung standing there with an easy smile, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark grey slacks.
“Hey,” you replied, instinctively shifting to face him fully.
You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander, now practically a habit during these fleeting encounters. Today, Heeseung in a turtleneck was a sight you hadn’t been prepared for. The sleek black fabric paired with a gray blazer and silver accents from his accessories left you more breathless than you cared to admit. Lethal for your heart. Effortlessly, attractively hot. 
“Wanna grab some lunch together?” He asked with an air of casualness, which diverged entirely from the usual demeanor he displayed around you.
Your eyes sparkled with amusement, the corner of your lips curving as a shadow of a mischievous smile appeared before his boldness. Accepting the invitation veered slightly off your schedule, but the idea of speaking with him alone – and the fact that he had taken the initiative – was far too tempting to pass up.
Biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle your smile, you replied as nonchalant as you could, “Sure.”
“Great!” His voice held a trace of enthusiasm that left you feeling inexplicably giddy.
You stifled a giggle when he stepped aside, motioning for you to lead the way, and then quickly rushed ahead to hold the door open for you.
“We can head to that convenience store just down the street,” Heeseung suggested with his charmingly laid-back tone as he helped you through the way, making sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone.
It somehow felt like he practiced this entire interaction quite a few times beforehand, a hint of artificiality appearing amidst the palpable signs of sincerity; that idea matched perfectly with the persona he had shown you so far.
“It’s near, so it won’t mess with your schedule,” at that remark, your attention sharpened, your ears perking up eagerly, waiting for what he would say next. “I know you’ve got a lecture in about thirty minutes, so–”
“You know my schedule?” You cut him off immediately, letting your curiosity overtake as you ignored whatever he was saying previously because that one new information stirred a few strong beats in your chest.
Not to mention how your delight was more than evident in the way your smile brightened, your eyes instantly searching for Heeseung’s shy ones.
“I–I mean– Yeah…” tinged with hesitation and with his confidence momentarily faltering – as well as his steps –, Heeseung answered, adorably flickering his gaze to you, to the floor and then to the direction you both were walking.
However, before he could even try to start to explain himself further, you leaned in, your tone dipping slightly to reassure and tease him at once, your shoulder nudging his arm as you spoke. “You’re cute, Heeseung.”
Not much to your surprise, Heeseung froze in place after hearing your compliment, as though your words had short-circuited his brain, frying his ability to create a proper reaction other than abruptly stop walking.
You had halted your steps a bit forward so you had to turn your body to look at him, and immediately his bambi-eyes scanned you in search for some indication you were joking or pranking his poor heart. The way he had arched his eyebrows together added a charm of innocence that had your heart faltering several beats, not to mention the red flush adorning his cheeks adorably.
After quickly reading Heeseung’s dumbfounded face, you giggled and shook your head tenderly, your eyes oozing with amusement.
“I meant it,” and to add a light touch of genuineness, you held your smile a bit longer. 
Actually, being around Heeseung had this impact on you; a sudden urge to keep smiling, an unexpected and inexplicable heat spreading through your chest, soothing you in a comforting embrace. It was strangely good, as well as scary as shit.
Amidst his inner war, torn between choosing to run away and accepting your praise, Heeseung cleared his throat, making a fist with his hand and covering his lips as he did so before picking up the pace of his steps again. You started to follow, ignoring the students that clearly threw suspicious, speculative glances at you both. Heeseung seemed to mirror your decision too. 
“Well. Uh. T–Thank you,” the stammer made his demeanor even charming and you couldn’t help another giggle that escaped you. He took a little glance at you shyly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sheepish smile that betrayed how affected he was. 
Heeseung was really battling to maintain his composure, because hearing that sound two times in a row was notably increasing his pulse, and attached to the fact that you called him cute– God. He could feel his face flaming hot once again. 
By your peripheral vision, you caught how he was struggling to suppress a bigger smile, his cheeks puffing slightly as a result of his attempts. If he kept acting that way around you, there was an absurdly high chance you would throw caution to the wind and just ask to kiss him.
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
You had considered Heeseung as a potential romantic interest before – after all, he was handsome, intelligent, kind, and seemed to have an equally beautiful personality. But nothing as raw and carnal as the genuine desire to have him in such a way had crossed your mind until now.
The daylight hit your faces as you both stepped outside the building, but even that wasn’t enough to pull you out of the increasingly sinful thoughts flooding your mind. Sure, you had noticed in previous interactions how Heeseung’s gaze lingered just a little too long on your lips while you spoke. And it was definitely not the kind of attention stemming from “lip reading to understand better.” It was so clear in his eyes, an unspoken want hidden behind those charming chocolate orbs, leaving you wondering if you could be the one to make them melt sweetly for you.
Damn. More sinful thoughts.
Luckily, Heeseung interrupted the spiral going in your head when he pointed ahead to the spot he had mentioned earlier. “It’s right there,” he said, his voice light and soft. “We won’t take too long, okay?”
And then, he gave you the most beautiful smile your eyes had ever captured.
You were so screwed.
There was no other way to put it: you were starting to enjoy having Heeseung around a little too much. The reactions, the smiles, the chivalry, it was strongly getting to you. He had just held the door open for you, walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk, and pulled out your chair while offering to grab whatever you wanted to eat.
Sure, part of it was the bare minimum, but there was no denying that receiving all this without asking, without having any deeper connection beyond being colleagues, left you flustered. It felt special, as though Heeseung’s gentlemanly gestures were more deliberate and sincere simply because they were directed at you.
“Heeseung, you’re not paying for my–”
“Shh,” he gently hushed you, shaking his head as he looked down at you. He was still standing after insisting you sit while he took care of your order. “You can’t wear yourself out, Y/N. Remember: your lecture’s in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty-four minutes.”
You gave him a deadpan look and rolled your eyes, silently but surely mastering the art of hiding how affected you actually felt. Your heart had suddenly learned a new frantic rhythm, one that uncontrollably drummed against your rib cages as if it wanted to break free, ringing in your ears. 
“Fine, fine,” you finally gave up, your voice showing your surrender. “But at least let me–”
“No,” Heeseung refused again, this time gently pushing your hands down, which were holding the credit card you had just fished out of your bag. “Tell me what you want.”
After a sigh, you made your request – the simplest thing you could think of, since you were hungry, but the nervousness about your upcoming lecture left you slightly nauseous.
It was a session you had given before, but it always managed to trigger some anxiety. The lecture was open to the entire department, not just a specific class, as part of the mandatory hours – for either you and the students – where you would teach for an hour and a half on a selected topic.
While Heeseung prepared both bowls of ramen and fetched the drinks, you took the brief moment alone to review your notes on your phone. The book you had grabbed earlier as a prop for your blatant lie in the faculty lounge was now abandoned on the extra chair at your table.
Your focused expression was unmistakable, your eyes scanning the chaotic notes that only you could make sense of, notes that would somehow translate into coherent, eloquent words once you started speaking, shining in your element.
From a distance, Heeseung paused mid-way to take you in as well to inhale deeply, his shoulders visibly relaxing from the palpable tension that always seemed to grip him whenever you were near, but his hand still held a remnant of the nervous sweat. 
Inviting you to lunch had been planned in advance in his head, yet it didn’t stop his heart from missing beats when it actually happened, especially after you accepted, making him wonder if having a heart attack was anything like that feeling.
Beyond that, your cheeky words wrapped in confident compliments occupied a special place in the atmosphere surrounding you two, fanning the flames of unease that already simmered within him.
He had spent days counting the chances he might have to carve out time in his own schedule to ask you out, carefully calculating a way to avoid inconveniencing either of you. The courage to invite you outside of work hours wasn’t fully there yet.
He didn’t even have your number!
Heeseung decided to start slowly, taking baby steps. Nonetheless, the blatant flirtation from the other day still echoed in his mind, sending him spiraling into endless thoughts – or perhaps towards the obvious conclusion.
Did you want to get to know him better? What were your intentions? After a candid conversation with Sunghoon, who confirmed that flirting wasn’t your typical behavior with coworkers, Heeseung couldn’t shake the notion that something lingered in the air whenever you two interacted. It was an unspoken tension, like a cloud of silent words revealing something deeper, hidden just beneath the surface.
As usual, you looked stunning, completely immersed in your work while pouring every ounce of effort into being an excellent teacher. Heeseung had come to admire this about you.
He silently hoped you wanted him the way he had started wanting you – something more than friendship, something closer. You were kind and confident, dedicated and beautiful. Falling for you would be effortless.
If luck was on his side, this lunch would mark the first step towards the connection he longed to build with you.
As he approached, he couldn’t help but notice the faint unease clouding your otherwise captivating expression. It didn’t detract from your beauty, instead stirred a quiet desire within him to ease your worries.
“Relax,” he murmured softly, careful not to startle you, as he placed the steaming bowls of ramen and drinks on the table. You glanced up, your posture loosening as you leaned back in your chair. “You’ll do great.”
And there it was again, that effortlessly charming smile.
Heeseung took his seat across from you, leaning forward to start sipping his ramen since he was very hungry himself. His eyes crinkled slightly as they met yours, radiating warmth and tenderness, unmatching your keen gaze that followed the movement of his lips curving into a pout as he ate.
The problem was that, this time, you couldn’t hold your tongue about his beautiful grin.
“You have a really nice smile, Heeseung.”
And the reaction was instant. He choked, coughing into his hand as you giggled mischievously, quickly pushing his drink closer so he could take a sip and regain his dignity. Heeseung’s face turned as red as a tomato, increasing the adoration in your eyes as you watched the way he struggled; something about giving compliments simply for the sake of breaking his composure became one of your favorite games to play. Besides, you really meant each of them. 
You could go for hours about the traces of Heeseung’s features, analyzing it like a delicate and dreamlike painting, the ones that felt surreal, nearly far to human reach. 
For a short amount of seconds, Heeseung forgot he was speaking to the person who was climbing the romantic-interest charts with immense potential, the one responsible for the erratic beats of his heart and the thoughts he preferred not to name just yet, and not some random friend of his.
The curse slipped from his sauce-stained lips in a soft murmur. “Damn it,” he quickly wiped the area with a napkin, recovering from his small choke before practically whining the next words. “You’ve gotta stop doing that.”
You hadn't expected that behavior at all, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. The wide-eyed look he gave you immediately, as if the realization hit him that he had acted more like a child than a man in front of you, only made your chest warm with affection. Ironically, Heeseung’s cheeks also flushed, heating in pure embarrassment.
He was lowkey thankful for the outfit choice, the turtleneck covering the flush of redness creeping up his neck towards his face and ears. 
You shifted in your seat, finally ready to dig into your food as the aroma made your stomach rumble.
“Sorry,” you took a bite of your ramen, offering a lopsided smile, not the least bit apologetic for making him lose his composure in front of you. “I can’t help it.”
Realizing that your gaze hadn’t changed towards him, and in fact, you seemed even more intrigued by what he could offer, Heeseung decided to be as genuine as possible, expressing his true essence,  one that teetered on the edge of something almost reverential.
It wasn’t as if he had other options in front of your mesmerizing presence, because even a simple “hello” from you, with your velvety voice as the backdrop, was enough to destabilize his body, causing his mind to short-circuit. Then, he became a jumble of disconnected words and behaviors that perfectly reflected his inner turmoil.
“You should at least try,” Heeseung murmured again, an underlying tone of faux sadness coloring his words. He avoided looking at you for too long; otherwise, it felt like the air would vanish from his lungs. “You know, so I can pretend to be really cool around you, and then you’ll fall for me.”
Heeseung wasn’t sure where the courage to throw out such a bold line came from, but he didn’t complain at first. However, the laugh that escaped you made him question whether it was the right move, hesitating at your reaction. But then your smile remained, subtle and affectionate, your eyes dripping with amusement until you spoke, in the same low, subtly husky, sensual tone that reflected part of your personality.
“It’s adorable to watch you all flustered, Heeseung,” you replied fearlessly, reading the script he once showed you without explaining, your confidence evident in every syllable as you chewed your food, maintaining eye contact without breaking. “It’s almost addictive.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, but the cheeky smile that threatened to escape betrayed his attempt to appear annoyed. He took a sip of his drink and looked at you seriously, though there was such obvious faking behind his gaze that you had to stifle a laugh, especially since he added a small pout after speaking.
Seriously, what an adorable man.
“I don’t think it’s funny at all.”
The warm atmosphere between you both created an interesting, comfortable dynamic that made you think about exploring different paths with him, maybe even inviting him to eat outside work hours. Despite the pleasant conversation, there was always the weight of your duties as teachers. The thought made you recall your next task with a quick inner jolt.
“Wow,” you looked at the time on your phone, your expression twisting into a mix of dread and nervousness before looking back at Heeseung, who was watching you with curiosity. “I need to go.”
It was strangely nice to see his face fall into something bordering on sadness, even though it fueled an impulse to drop all responsibilities and stay with him for the rest of the day, chatting away and definitely coaxing more shy reactions out of him.
“Sorry,” you said, this time meaning it. Gently, you reached for Heeseung’s hand resting on the table, covering it with yours. “I promise we can hang out more. Give me your number.”
Everything happened so quickly. The sudden touch, the promise of a future meet, the request for his number. Heeseung needed a few seconds to process the phone extended in his direction.
“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he said, reluctantly pulling his hand away to carefully write down his name and number in your phone before handing it back to you.
You found it amusing that he saved himself as “Lee Heeseung (college),” because you initially associated it with a college friend rather than a work one, which gave a youthful, almost nostalgic air, as though you two were young lovers rather than two mature adults about to venture down a different path beyond a mere friendship.
“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said as you stood up, the man following your movements for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He still had a few minutes before he had to head back. “For the food, the conversation, and for helping me relax.”
“Y-Yeah,” he mentally cursed himself for stuttering. “Anytime, Y/N.”
You gave him a small yet sincere smile before pausing almost completely, clutching your hands around your bag’s strap. Heeseung was standing there, eyes wide and round, watching you intently, his expression sweet as honey and his body waiting for... something.
There was no way to stop your own limbs from moving when you leaned forward lightly, enveloping Heeseung in a warm hug. “Thank you so much, Hee.”
And Heeseung could only hope you didn’t hear or feel the rapid beats of his heart when he held you back.
But you did.
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Heeseung definitely wore a bolder persona through text. You believed his hands were still trembling as he sent the message, fingers glazing over the screen, searching for the best way to express what his flustered mind was trying to articulate, because countless times he seemed to delete and rewrite, hesitating before hitting send.
Despite that, it was so intriguing and sensual the way he let himself get carried away in the messages; from sweet good mornings followed by “can’t wait to see you today,” to “your outfit was stunning. I held myself back from hugging you a little longer,” implying he was slowly, yet surely growing hungrier from your touches. They were subtle phrases, perhaps innocent, but filled with an unspoken, looming desire.
At this point, it was undeniable that all you longed for was to kiss him, since the hugs that had become your usual greeting no longer satisfied the yearning to have him in direct contact with your skin. You wanted more. Much more.
“You’re suffocating me,” Heeseung mumbled against your chest, but made no effort to pull away from the position.
Yes. You were in quite a... compromising position.
You found him in the teachers' lounge, sitting at one of the chairs with his elbows propped on the smooth surface of the desk while reviewing some assignments, facial features sharpened due to the concentrated gaze and furrowed brows, although the faint pout gracing his lips softened the whole facade. 
Sunghoon had just left, greeting you with a sly smile and a wink, almost murmuring a “good luck, I’ll leave you two alone” in the most teasing way.
And it was in that very moment, when your sneaky presence entered the room, that your little plan began. Truth be told, there was no plan, just a spontaneous thought that hugging Heeseung while he was seated and you standing might be a nice touch – albeit a touch that was a bit too sultry for the work environment but would certainly reveal the mystery behind some of your insecurities and second thoughts. 
Did Heeseung flirt for his own pleasure, or was he too afraid to make a move? Because you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could wait.
“Sorry, my dear,” the endearment slipped out almost automatically, now as routine as the hugs, because to your delight, Heeseung always became embarrassed and cutely tried to avoid you when you called him that.
But who could he blame? Your honeyed voice saying the word always felt like a sweet, addictive shot to his chest.
You laughed when he groaned, pressing his face against the fabric of your blouse, pulling away ever so slightly enough for your hand to rest on his shoulder, his hand finding its way to your waist, looking up to make eye contact with you.
He wore gold-framed glasses that perfectly balanced his skin. Over the course of your conversations, a few subtle details had been revealed, like the fact that he was a little nearsighted but only wore glasses when he was too lazy to put in his contacts. And they were now slightly misplaced, giving him a ridiculously attractive air.
On top of that, he had chosen to wear suspenders that day, which only added to the innocent-boy look that made your heart tremble in a mild despair. It made you ache to ruin Heeseung in ways that were beyond comprehension, leaving him completely undone under your hands. 
And that created a bittersweet feeling within you, because Heeseung was somehow sweet and delicate, and all you could think of in moments like this was seeing him squirming in your bed.
Like. What the hell.
Vanishing the sinful stream of thoughts crossing your mind by subtly shaking it off, you smiled with a falsely angelic demeanor. A pang in your heart reminded you that those inappropriate ideas needed to disappear, because until Heeseung gave you the green light, you couldn’t take any bold actions. You had to keep your not-so-innocent instincts under control.
Your fingers lightly scratched at his scalp, making his pretty eyes flutter briefly and a soft sigh escape his lips, tinted with a pale shade of pink. Moments like this – when a sudden intimacy bloomed between the two of you – always brought with them an undeniable need to define what you were becoming or at least bring it to the table. Were you both on the same page?
“Ready to go?”
“Gimme just ten more minutes. I need to finish this,” Heeseung replied warmly, his gaze flickering towards the scattered papers on the desk.
His voice never rose around you, always soft and gentle, like you were something rare and delicate that deserved only the utmost care, you came to notice after a few interactions.
Following his line of sight, you let out a dramatic sigh, recognizing the template on the papers and sympathizing with his predicament.
“My deepest condolences,” you joked, patting his back lightly before stepping away to give him the space he needed to finish his work.
Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”
Taking the spare chair across the table, you rummaged through your bag for your phone to answer some emails and clear up a few pending tasks, working in silence to avoid disturbing him.
It was a Friday, and your plans involved dinner – a date you had invited him to, scheduled after the extended workday that surprisingly got dragged into the evening. It wasn’t a usual routine, but every so often, deadlines accumulated and students seemed to conspire to submit all their assignments at once, unnecessarily stressing the professors.
You had received your fair share of submissions earlier in the day, deciding to tackle them on Sunday. Tonight, your nerves were too tangled with excitement and anticipation about spending the entire evening with Heeseung.
Your so-called “dates” had so far been restricted to small windows of free time, with your schedules swallowing the possibility of meeting outside work. Lunchtime together had become almost expected – sometimes, a quick sandwich devoured in the span of ten minutes between breaks with Heeseung was enough to leave you happy for an entire day.
Still, whispers floated through the hallways, pointing at how students had started to pay close attention to your interactions. The lingering touches on arms, shy smiles, and starry eyes hadn't gone unnoticed. One student even mentioned Heeseung’s name during your class under the guise of linking it to something he taught, only to admit they were curious about your reaction.
And it had been priceless.
At any given time, Heeseung would be the source of your expression brightening instantly, your posture straightened as if on command, and your hand reflexively fixing any rogue strand of hair.
However, there was no reason for you to bask into that type of spotlight. Even though you carried yourself with confidence and shared openly about clinical and professional experiences with your students, believing practical examples enriched the theory, there were limits. And that line was drawn sharply when it came to your personal and romantic life.
You had particular tastes, ones not every man could embrace or accept at all. This was why you approached Heeseung with such caution – biting around the edges not to burn your tongue, to avoid ruining everything.
But something within you screamed, loud and clear, that he might be the one. Or, at the very least, someone willing to occupy a space where both of you could thrive.
“Y/N?” His soft voice broke through your spiral of thoughts with almost painful gentleness. Heeseung was always so soft, so sweet. Ugh.
“Yes?” You lifted your gaze, confused, only to find him smiling faintly.
“You were zoning out,” he pointed out, and only then did you notice the desk had been cleared, his work neatly organized. “Something on your mind?”
Yes. You.
“No,” you quickly shook your head, preparing to stand, but Heeseung’s hand stopped you, his warm touch wrapping over your fingers.
“If you’re having second thoughts about going out, we can always reschedule,” he began cautiously, his tone betraying a flicker of hesitation. “I mean, if you’re not feeling up to go out with me–”
“No!” You denied it so quickly it sounded desperate, your chest tightening at the sensation of his warm palm on yours. “Of course not! I invited you, and I really, really want to go, Hee,” clearing away his doubt took priority number one, and without even realizing it, the words left your lips in a voice both firm and gentle. “I really want to spend time with you. Outside of work. Just the two of us. On a date. Okay?”
Heeseung noticed how you had been absent for several minutes, your gaze distant as it lingered on a spot on the table, making him wonder if there was something there he couldn’t see – maybe his glasses needed a stronger prescription or something. But no, you were just lost in thought, and reading you like that stoked the uncertainty, hesitation eating his confidence away. 
He had accepted your invitation immediately, because he wanted to go out with you more than anything. Maybe the night would end with a few kisses exchanged in his car and, perhaps – hopefully –, something more.
But any hint of hesitation from you made his confidence waver unexpectedly, even if you weren’t truly unsure. If he knew the real reason behind your sudden distance, he would understand why your mind had wandered. And could even drive you through it willingly. 
Nevertheless, once you reassured him it rekindled the invisible threads of hope that had been flickering to waver, easing the tensed nerves of his body and bringing a relieved smile to his face.
With a soft squeeze on your hand, he whispered, praying not to fumble since he just realized you called it a date and his heart chose to perform acrobatics, flipping somersaults in his chest.
“Shall we?”
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The dinner was wonderful, relatively early but lovely, carried with comfortable chats and hands searching for each other. Then Heeseung suggested a walk to a nearby park so you could enjoy ice cream together, blushing furiously as he gave the idea for thinking it might be a bit cheesy and silly. 
You loved it. You loved ice cream.
You strolled for a while, leisurely, with no rush, exchanging words, sharing thoughts, and flirting subtly – some moments that even left you flustered, stirring fumbles and stutters that Heeseung stated internally it was his personal favorite side of you.
You heard him talk about the anxieties he felt at work, being newly hired and dealing with the pressures was definitely a struggle. So you shared what calmed you amid chaos, hoping something could ease his worries as much as it did for yours. Other than that, you offered your presence and listening for whenever he felt like venting out. He thanked you with a pretty smile. You nearly stumbled on your feet. 
And just like that, the next date was decided. A quiet, but certainly personal one: Sunday at your place, correcting the remaining assignments and hanging out the rest of the evening.
Then, before you both could reach the bench where you planned to sit, your ice cream nearly finished since you were a slow eater, Heeseung suddenly stopped and looked at you. Confused, you mimicked his motion and asked with worry, “Something’s wrong?”
When your eyes met, you recognized a glint of desperation and longing, an unspoken anticipation for something you didn’t know yet, but it ignited the same ache in your chest.
Your heart raced uncontrollably when Heeseung took a step forward, its thump-thump echoing in your ear like a distant thunder when he slowly, but surely closed the distance between you both.
The moonlight illuminating your faces became a silent accomplice, your gazes, heavy with unshed confessions, translating what either of you failed to articulate.
Heeseung let out a sigh, the delicate sound escaping his lips like a subtle breeze to caress your skin, before slowly running his tempting tongue over the curve of his mouth. Your eyes darted towards it, as though a magnetic pull drew your attention to the area without leaving control for you.
Your surprise was written all over your face, yet it faded quickly, when Heeseung leaned in even closer, his presence drawing you into a bubble where the rest of the world no longer existed. The surroundings turned into a blur, an ethereal fog wrapping you two in a cocoon of warmth and soft tension.
As his hand reached up to caress your cheek, there was a moment of hesitation, an unspoken uncertainty lingering in the air between you. His fingers brushed gently over your skin with a feather-light touch, as though testing the waters, while his eyes flickered through your features, marveling with attention.
His other hand, however, settled firmly on your waist, pulling you closer and anchoring you in place. The pressure was subtle and unmistakable, making your breath get caught in your throat.
“I want to kiss you,” under the stars, Heeseung confessed.
The air thickened, the last piece of the ice cream cone promptly dropping to the ground because you were too busy searching for physical contact; your fingers traced an invisible line across Heeseung’s chest, covered by the light dress shirt, until they found comfort on his broad shoulders.
“I want to kiss you too,” with a genuine mutuality, built slowly through the weeks and now finally transformed into words, you eased the weight on your chest.
It was different to simply think and to verbalize. Putting into words made it real. It showed the vulnerability hidden behind the idealization, working as a strong grounding where you, so far, feared to walk in. But Heeseung wanted to go with you just as much.
A gentle, relieved smile graced the corner of his mouth and made you mirror it almost automatically, as if the relationship created through the days synched into an admirable connection where your bodies worked together, unison. 
Eye contact remained as quiet promises hanged in the air, until your eyelids grew heavy, emotions swirling inside you and overpowering the last fragments of reasoning. The distance between you deliberately shrank, and you briefly savored the soft touch of Heeseung’s uneven breath as his parted lips grazed over yours, as a silent invite for you to meet him mid-way.
And you did. 
Heeseung was fully tense now, body quivering slightly as desperation swallowed his capacity to think straight; he could feel his hands trembling on your jawline and waist, goosebumps covering his entire being.
Touching your lips felt like embracing a plush, fluffy cloud, caressing his flesh with care and tenderness. It was delightful, carrying a warmth of affection he had never experienced with anyone else.
The very first contact was experimental, a delicate pull to ease the foreign encounter of skins, but held a trace of purpose that conveyed the inner turmoil happening inside. For short seconds you backed away, your lips ajar, silently expressing neediness that led you to lean in once more, diving into kissing Heeseung properly, because the fleeting meet wasn’t enough for you. You yearned more. 
When your tongues brushed against each other after a bold move coming from you, Heeseung groaned, the shock coursing through his body was indescribable. If he had to find words to express, he would choose the idea of a surge of electricity at the highest voltage, yet without pain or discomfort but definitely intense as such. On the contrary, it seemed to soothe every fragile piece of his soul with subtle firmness – a graceful, beautiful, and gentle contrast.
Waves of unfamiliar sensations filled your chests like butterflies dancing joyously to the rhythm you slowly unveiled together, flooding you two with a sense of “finally” that resonated louder than anything else in that moment.
Finally, you discovered the taste you craved the most; Heeseung's mouth tasted like strawberries. And devotion. It blended with the flavor of caramel melting on your tongue, a sweet and addictive mix. It bordered on surreal, like utopian dreams, unreachable, and definitely intoxicating.
While Heeseung finally discovered the softness of your lips, the delicate curve of it driving his instincts to deepen the kiss eagerly, his fingers tightening on your waist as if afraid you might slip away.
He wasn’t going to let go. Neither were you.
The world outside completely fell away. The few things that mattered and you could focus on was the heat of Heeseung’s touch, the pressure of his tongue against yours, and the frantic pace of your heartbeats intertwining together. The kiss wasn’t simply a kiss anymore, it was the culmination of all the unspoken tension, all the longing that had been building between you. A promise under the moonlight that was finally being kept.
Breathing was becoming a difficult task as the seconds passed, so you had to reluctantly break the contact, but only enough to catch your breath, your foreheads gently resting on each other.
Your eyes remained closed, heavy due to the adrenaline rushing your veins relentlessly, your pulse wildly pounding as though it aimed to set fire to your skin. It was as if the weight of tons had lifted off your shoulders, soothing your soul with an uneven calm, even though your body now burned with desire, claiming for more. 
Heeseung, on the other hand, felt like he had stepped into a new world, unbelieving of what had just happened. Breaking the blissful chaos happening inside, he breathed out a giggle, the sound both turning the dreamlike sensation into a tangible emotion and causing you to flutter your eyes open.
You leaned back ever so slightly to find him with an adorable expression, one that exuded sincerity, need and something similar to disbelief. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, feeling your cheek flush with a sudden shyness as the tips of your fingers started to wander around the silky strands of Heeseung’s hair, trailing random patterns, which drew a sigh from him.
Heeseung leaned into the touch when you cupped his face with one palm before he shook his head, the movement causing your noses to nuzzle against one another due to the proximity, and his glasses to tilt off a little. Then his smile widened, another delicate giggle gifting your hearing and your sight, since his two hooded eyes turned into small crescents behind the transparent lenses. 
“I'm kinda not believing that we just kissed,” he whispered quietly on your lips. You deliberately licked them, exhaling a chuckle at his adorableness.
Another shaky sigh escaped Heeseung, the edge of his ears turning into a crimson shade and the skin beneath your fingers warming noticeably.
“Yeah?” A small, amused smirk played on your mouth, your voice dropping to a low tone, bordering on sultry as your eyes rose, seeking the contact you so loved to maintain; those two beautiful chocolate orbs held yours, drawing you in with pure affection. “Does it feel unreal?”
Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened when you boldly, yet slowly brushed your thumb on his bottom lip, leaving no room for answers because he was falling apart, crumbling under your intensity. He then prevented you from the beautiful scenery of his glimmering eyes oozing you once he closed them to enjoy your touch.
A soft hum escaped his throat, a subtle response to the question hanging in the air that sounded a little extra sensual to your ears, a noise that definitely had no right to spasm a heat down your core.
Heeseung’s head moved slightly with a silent nod afterwards, as if to say he didn’t have the proper words to explain how out of this world, how overwhelming kissing you felt.
“Then kiss me again, Heeseung,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, lips teasingly grazing over his. Heeseung's heart stuttered, his breath faltering. “Kiss me again, and maybe it'll start to feel real.”
For a fleeting moment, hesitation flashed in his eyes as he opened them. His hungry gaze flickered between your parted, inviting lips and the anticipation burning in your stare. Had he heard you right? Did you truly want this again – want him?
You caught the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, the grip on your waist tightening, almost possessive, though beneath it lay his tensed uncertainty. His other hand remained where it was, cradling your face with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of his hold, sending an unbidden shiver cascading down your spine.
But it was your expectant, eager eyes, glowing with nothing but unfiltered desire that shattered his doubts. There was no fear, no reluctance, not even the slightest trace of insecurity coming from you. Just raw, unspoken, confident want. One more kiss. Just one more.
And so, he claimed your mouth, capturing your lower lip between his, sucking on it with a fervent need as his eyes fluttered shut – and so did yours. A soft, breathy smack echoed when he finally released it from the grasp of his own plush lips, waiting for your next decision.
A rush of warmth spread between you as your mouth searched for his instinctively, to deepen the rhythm with the passion intensifying and the pace quickening. Your tongues intertwined in a seamless dance, a newfound hunger guiding how they moved.
The hand that once caressed you wavered for a second before gliding down to your waist, fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him. The friction was subtle, but enough to steal the breath from your lungs, a gasp getting lost amidst the kiss.
Heeseung was starting to show signs of a deeper yearning, a need darker and unexplored, untouched up until this moment, but still restraining himself, an inner fight unveiling before you both. 
The discrepancy in his actions laid bare the true, fractured side of his divided desire – caught between surrendering to the primal instinct to kiss you over and over again with reckless abandon, without stopping, and the struggle to control himself, to rein in the sheer force of his craving.
But if he lost himself on you, you wouldn’t mind, not when he kissed you like this; so fiercely, so feverishly. It was intoxicating the way Heeseung devoured you with such raw need, as if this was everything, his only want, his only need, the very essence of his happiness.
The two of you clung to each other with an almost desperate tenderness at this point, as if feeling the warmth of the other’s skin was the only thing tethering you to reality – as if this simple touch carried the last breath of joy, of desire, of life itself.
You sighed into his mouth, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, drawing a delicious groan from deep within his chest. The sound alone sent a spark of pleasure coursing through you and you thanked for the tight grip on your hips, otherwise you would probably fall.
Your other hand clutched the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be able to anchor you away from the reality unfolding inside your brain; one that definitely didn’t stop there, in the middle of an open public space. 
Heeseung reacted instantly, angling his head to kiss you better, to give you the best, his lips moving with a fervor that made your entire body buzz with the type of heat you started to wish to live forever with. 
When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, panting for air, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping you as if afraid to let go, enjoying how you held his body just as close, fearing the same. 
His hooded and dazed gaze bore into yours, layered with something you couldn’t pinpoint precisely. Not before he murmured with his hoarse voice, taunting your next move. “Still feels unreal.”
You let out a breathy laugh, a feigned scoff due to his sudden shameless demeanor. Your fingertips traced the sharp line of his jaw before settling against his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss; Heeseung deduced you liked to do that, playing with his sanity enough to drift his soul towards the edge of losing it completely. 
“Then maybe,” you purred, tone laced with mischief. “We should try again. Just to make sure.”
Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening, matching yours. He whispered back. 
“But not here.”
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Heeseung had noticed the way you had practically devoured him with your gaze all afternoon, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.
Well, maybe not all afternoon, but at some point it seemed like you had grown bored of your responsibilities and decided to entertain yourself. How?
It didn’t matter if Heeseung was rambling about dull, tedious things, like students handing in papers filled with blatantly copied textbook answers despite his request for originality. Somehow, you managed to derail his thoughts into dangerous territory.
“Ugh, such a drag, right?” You had responded at the end of his rant, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout as your fingers idly traced along the fabric of his thin sweater, feigning comfort – an excuse to touch him.
Or when he asked for a glass of water, and you returned with his order and… A lollipop between your lips, absently rolling the red-tinted candy over your tongue while pretending to focus on your assignments, casually seated on the floor of your living room as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
And now, when he had simply asked for the bathroom’s location, you had replied, “Last door down the hall, right next to my room.”
There was something so subtle, yet unmistakably deliberate about the way you had emphasized my room, your voice laced with a suggestive tone to make it sound like an unspoken invitation. As if you wanted to plant the thought in his mind – no, better: dare him to wonder where exactly your room was. More precisely, where your bed was.
And it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t want you in that way. Of course he did. Ever since Friday’s kiss you had been the only thing occupying his thoughts. He had lost track of time on Saturday, running late to his own commitments, the once carefully maintained routine slipping through his fingers like sand.
You were unraveling him, piece by piece, effortlessly pulling his existence into your orbit, making his sanity wane with an alarming ease.
Now Heeseung found himself standing in the bathroom, unsure of how to step back out, his fumbling fingers disheveled his dark hair. 
No, the door wasn’t stuck, nor had any accidents occurred during his time there, he was just frustrated and flustered. 
He had lost count of how many times he had leaned over the sink to splash cold water on his face, desperately attempting to ease his nerves, which instinctively tightened at the thought of returning to a closed space with you and your brazenly, shamelessly flirts. What the hell had he gotten himself into with a woman this confident and irresistible?
You, who already carried an enviable self-assurance, were completely in your element. This was your home – you knew every inch of it, and no doubt you could use props to tease Heeseung in ways that would drive him to the brink, just like the fucking lollipop.
If he closed his eyes, the sinful image of your lips wrapping around the candy’s pink tip, sucking with an unbearable slowness, would replay like a cursed mantra – a damn film he couldn’t turn off, the screen stuck on an endless loop inside his restless mind.
It was ironic how naturally and effortlessly your relationship had unfolded… until that one defining kiss.
It felt like those tender embraces – even the ones laced with playful, wandering hands, or the moments when you deliberately hugged him while he was seated, letting his face nestle into the softness of your chest innocently – were the only thing keeping the raw, untamed desire restrained.
But the moment your lips met, the next step became far more tangible; the possibility of ending the day in your bedroom hung in the air, now more than ever thickening the space between you with an unmistakable tension.
On Friday, after deciding to head back to his car under the pretext of finding more privacy, you did exchange a few more touches, none of them pure. The moment you dared to move onto his lap, however, was when Heeseung drew the line.
“Not tonight,” he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks. 
And you respected his words without hesitation, nodding in understanding before sealing the moment with one last tender peck, your eyes dripping with fondness because that’s what Heeseung awakened in you: an equal blend of desire and deep affection, a craving to take care of him in every possible way.
The problem was: he wished it had been that night. That “tonight” that had already passed.
Heeseung ached for you to take him completely, just as he longed to claim you in return. Your delicate hands would probably fit perfectly around his length. Your soft lips would push him further into madness. And your gaze, always so confident and unwavering, would turn even more sultry behind closed doors, leaving him on the verge of collapse.
Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh, panicking once more, his pulse quickening. He would surrender to you in a heartbeat. No hesitation. If the mere feeling of your lips against his had sent him straight to heaven, he could only imagine what the rest of you could do.
There was this one small detail gnawing at his self-assurance, unraveling it into waves of anxiety that threatened to throw his entire system off balance. It had nothing to do with you directly, it was solely about him and his own perspective on sex. 
Heeseung valued his partner’s pleasure equally to his own. He firmly believed that both should enjoy the unique and intimate sensations a night of passion could bring. However, his own pleasure was far more… passive. Submissive, even. Would you be okay with that? Would you make fun or give up when he decides that you should take control? 
God. Everything becomes a spiral inside his head.
On the other hand, you were patiently waiting for his return, nonetheless your brain was playing tricks to the same extent.
Neither of you had brought up the kiss on Saturday, exchanging only brief messages, both too caught up in your own routines. And when Heeseung showed up at your doorstep for your “professor duties date” with the natural charming smile, greeting him with anything beyond a warm grin and a casual, “Welcome, make yourself at home,” felt oddly improper – even though you had noticed his fingers twitching on his sides, as if anticipating something more from you.
The urge to throw yourself into his arms and ruin him in the most alluring way possible tingled beneath your skin for the rest of the day, your chest hurting with raw need for him.
There was no logical explanation for the effect Heeseung had on you. If you dig to try, you would find mixed conclusions such as those impossibly big, affectionate eyes that stayed locked on you with an almost angelic aura, soaking in every word you spoke with attention and also stirring the deepest profanity thoughts to ever exist.
Or how he had to wet his lips with a frequency that threw your self-control out of the window, now knowing how they taste, only serving as a teasing motion for you to gather more and more arousal and need over them.
Or perhaps, just the remarkable way he was the perfect gentleman around you, treating you as a queen who deserved everything you wanted.
Delaying the conversation or actions felt equally as right as it did utterly wrong. But what struck you the most was realizing that this wasn’t you – at least, not the you that you knew. 
You didn’t shy away from challenges, never made excuses to escape a situation, nor avoided conversations that could either lead you exactly where you wanted to be or leave you in shambles. And maybe that was the thing about Heeseung – he dismantled your integrity, unsteadying your footing, weakening the very foundation of who you were.
He made you do things that never belonged to your usual repertoire, because, with ridiculous ease, he had melted a piece of your heart just enough to make space for himself. And you let him.
That was why, when Heeseung finally gathered the courage to step back into the living room, you didn’t even give yourself the chance to notice his timid posture, the way he initially avoided looking at you. The words left your lips like a bullet from a gun after holding the trigger for far too long.
“Heeseung, I want you.”
The room fell silent. A big pause before anything else happened. 
He hadn’t expected the confession. Nor had he expected to find you standing there, visibly waiting for him just to say it out loud. He lifted his gaze only to be met with the very woman who had been haunting his thoughts – the one who was always so sure of herself, so fucking intoxicatingly aware of what she wanted. 
And he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine when you took a step forward. Then another. And another. Until you were right there, face to face, breath to breath, heat to heat.
Your jaw was clenched, the tension betraying the firm decision you had already made. Your eyes burned, dark with intent, and Heeseung  felt himself shrink under your presence, overwhelmed by the so commanding atmosphere you carried. And yet, despite the way his body tensed, his pulse quickened, his breath grew ragged, he felt himself growing painfully eager. Painfully hard.
Because this was exactly what he liked.
The air between you thickened, heavy with a quiet-loud anticipation. The only sound filling the space was the uneven rhythm of your breathing, tangled together, syncing, feeding into the tension neither of you dared to break. You remained steady, firm. Heeseung, on the other hand, felt his skin prickle, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. God, you were so, so unbearably sexy.
His eyes traced your features as if committing them to memory, memorizing every curve, every line, as though he would later etch them into a canvas in silent admiration. And you were doing similar. But then he noticed something. You were holding back.
Your hands, still hanging at your sides, twitched with a restless itch to reach for him, but an invisible boundary you refused to cross without permission restrained you.
So you leaned in closer, sealing the final sliver of space between you. Your forehead pressed against Heeseung’s, noses barely brushing as your breath mingled in the heated air between you. Your lashes fluttered shut, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you pleaded, “Please… tell me you want me too.”
And that was it. That was the moment Heeseung shattered. Every last ounce of hesitation, every lingering doubt, was cast aside like it had never existed in the first place.
“Please,” he echoed, though his voice trembled, thick with something raw, desperate.
Your eyes snapped open, searching his face as confusion flickered across your features. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze fully, taking in the sight of him; his slightly furrowed brows, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark, blown-out eyes bore into yours, brimming with hunger, longing, surrender.
“Please,” Heeseung whispered again, his grip tightening as he took your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours as if grounding himself in the touch. His eyes briefly dipped downward, to the sight of your intertwined hands as if it were something sacred. “I want you. So fucking much.” His voice was nearly a whimper now, thick with emotion, aching with need.
Then, slowly, Heeseung lifted your hands to his flushed cheeks and positioned them there, his own covering yours to make sure you wouldn’t let go, as he let the heat of his skin seep into your palms.
He shuddered beneath your fingertips, his breath stuttering as he leaned into the warmth you offered so freely. “Touch me,” he said within a breath, yet laced with craving, coaxing you to do so. “Use me…”
Heeseung melted into your touch like a man starved, nuzzling into your palm before pressing a soft, tender kiss to the center of it. A shiver ran down your spine at the way his lips brushed against your skin, like he was worshiping the moment, like he was silently begging for more.
And something inside you twisted, a sharp pang of affection and want so intense it left you breathless, your pulsing core now demanding some attention. This wasn’t quite what you had expected, but the way Heeseung looked at you, as though you were something divine, as if he was ready to kneel at your feet and offer himself up without a second thought, sent a wild rush of heat through your veins.
Then, locking his gaze with yours, pupils dark, blown wide and heavy with lust, he delivered the ultimate, the final spark to the fire.
“Make me yours.”
And fuck, you would.
To say your lips merely connected would be an understatement. Heeseung jolted slightly at the force with which you yanked him forward, meeting you halfway as you leaned in, sealing your mouths together in a kiss that was both lustful and unrelenting. The slow, deliberate contact created soft, intoxicating noises, your faces moving in perfect harmony to deepen the moment; the fading sugary taste of your lollipop dissolving slowly on Heeseung’s tongue.
Your bodies slotted together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their rightful place. The hands that had once cradled Heeseung’s face, now traced a heated path down his neck before threading into his hair, fingertips grazing his skin with intent. Instinctively, his own hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he pulled you flush against his warmth, as if needing you impossibly closer.
A quiet sigh slipped past your lips as Heeseung’s hands dug into your waist, boldly searching for bare skin so his fingers could start to explore better the curves of your body; the same old possessive grip holding you in place although you guided the entire of the kiss. He was letting you decide the pace, when and where he had the freedom and openness to move his tongue and suck your bottom lip.
Realizing how firm and claiming Heeseung was pushing you towards his body elicited an immediate shiver down your spine, your skin flaming hot, a warmth that was definitely palpable; Heeseung’s own state wasn’t much different, as heat coiled around you.
It was only when your lungs screamed for relief that you both pulled away, but Heeseung was utterly lost, desperate to continue feeling your warmth. He pressed wet, heated kisses down your neck, each one more urgent than the last. He longed to explore every inch of your smooth flesh, craving to discover what made you tremble with desire, focused solely on filling you with pleasure.
“Did you figure out where my room is?” The question left you in a breathless whisper, laced with suggestion, a sharp inhale breaking into a muffled groan when Heeseung sank his teeth into a tender spot on your neck before pulling back to meet your gaze.
Your eyes searched for his, dark and hooded, your faces hovered over each other’s, both caught in a slow, tantalizing rhythm – a tease, a challenge, neither closing the distance completely. His bangs, completely off place, brushed softly against your forehead. 
“So it was intentional?” Heeseung murmured skeptically, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk, his lips flushed and kiss-bruised. He was simply putting the pieces together, waiting for confirmation.
You didn’t bother hiding your wicked grin. “Not exactly. I just took a shot in the dark to see if it would pay off,” you purred, leaning in to catch his lower lip between your teeth before adding, “And judging by your reaction…” You dragged your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, savoring the way his breath hitched. “I think you’ve got the idea.”
Heeseung huffed a chuckle, “Then…” His words trailed off as his gaze flickered from your swollen lips to your piercing stare. You noticed his voice dropping an octave, taking on a dangerously alluring tone as he continued. “Should I show what I’ve learned, teacher?”
He watched as something unspoken flashed in your eyes for the briefest of moments when he called you that, his tone thick with sensuality; it was as though the roles had reversed, and now he was the one playing the provocateur.
You didn’t bother hiding how your body reacted to the murmured word, your breath visibly faltering, the hairs at the nape of your neck standing on end. But you never wavered. Your commanding stance remained unwavering, like a tree rooted so deeply that not even the fiercest storm could bring it down.
And there was something about that unshakable composure of yours that drove Heeseung absolutely insane. Only then did he realize he wouldn’t be able to maintain his role as the tease for much longer, not when you, in the most tantalizing way, flashed a side grin, wetting your lips with a slow, torturous motion, silently emphasizing that you could ruin his existence completely with ease – and he would relish every second of it.
“I like your confidence,” you murmured, raising an eyebrow, eyes dripping with a perfect blend of amusement, daring, and pure, raw desire. Heeseung’s breath came ragged, waiting. “I’d like to see you try, though.”
This wasn’t about the way to your bedroom anymore.
Unlike you, Heeseung did back down from certain challenges, knowing his limitations. And he definitely had no desire to push you just to test your limits – at least not that night. All he craved was the bare, unfiltered contact of your skin within the four walls that enclosed your bed. 
And that single realization fueled his next actions. His hands lowered to your ass, gripping firmly before hoisting you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
The kiss that followed was messy, because Heeseung refused to close his eyes – he didn’t trust himself not to trip along the way. You let out quiet giggles in between the feverish exchange, finding it utterly endearing how he struggled to kiss you back while also staying focused enough to walk.
The position made you keenly aware of something hard pressing against your clothed cunt; Heeseung’s growing state sent a pulse of heat surging through you, a natural clench on your walls being an indicator of your own condition.
With precise movements, you both reached your final destination. Your body ached for the comfort of your bed, ready to embrace your back… if only Heeseung hadn’t sat at the edge of the mattress with you still straddling him, offering you full control over what came next.
The kiss finally deepened with proper intent, tongues brushing slowly, melting into a molten blend of warmth and desire. Your hands framed Heeseung’s face, holding him in place, guiding him to move exactly as you pleased.
His grip on your ass slackened, shifting from possessive control to a softer hold, simply keeping you steady so you wouldn’t slip.
Your hips began rolling forward, seeking friction through the layers of fabric separating you. The movement drew a low, needy sound from Heeseung, who instinctively pressed you down against him, encouraging the rhythm.
Tired of the teasing, you let your lips wander down to his neck, claiming the sensitive skin that shuddered beneath your touch. The deliberate pace at which you explored him mirrored how his body slowly reclined with you pushing ever so slightly to sink it into the mattress, until Heeseung was completely laid out under you, at your mercy.
A devilish grin ghosted over your lips when it dawned at you the alignment you both had settled; perfectly sitting on top of the man who clearly revealed his opposition to hold control, leaving space for your dominance to appear in full display. 
Your hand briefly cupped Heeseung's cheek as your teeth grazed his prominent Adam’s apple, gently sucking the spot to soothe any lingering sting. His throat’s bulge bobbed as a quiet sigh escaped him, the sound drawing your fingers lower, tracing the defined line of his collarbone. You felt the firm texture of his bone beneath your fingertips, as your hips moved over his unmistakable hardness.
Another pleasant sound filled the dimly lit room, signaling the deepening of the night. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the passionate moment unfolding between you. 
You kept the pace agonizingly slow with your hips, your hands never staying still, mapping every inch of Heeseung’s subtly muscular body that tensed with each of your touches, from his biceps to his covered chest, until they gradually slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his stomach tighten under your fingertips. 
It was undeniable that this was affecting you too, your body burning with yearning, aching to remove the last barrier keeping your bodies apart, even though they were already so close.
You were so fucking turned on by everything; the tantalizing noises Heeseung ever so often let out, how he had closed his eyes and furrowed his forehead, lips ajar with breathy, low groans passing through, utterly consumed by the moment.
By now your panties were beyond ruined, drenched in your leaking arousal, the fabric clinging to your pussy with every subtle shift. It urged your body to respond, to stimulate yourself even faster, though it lingered deeper in the sweet tormention of anticipation rather than pushing you towards your actual release.
The rub you guided was more than intentional; your clit pressing what you deduced was Heeseung’s tip in calculated circles, the rigidness of his length easing your rhythm as you rocked back and forth.
In search of an improved position, you lifted your torso, knees bent and pressed against the bed, slotting Heeseung’s hips between them, granting easy access for your nails to shamelessly wander over his stomach. You also found better support for yourself in this new angle.
It was only then that you realized Heeseung had released your waist, letting his arms relax, though his grip on the sheets remained obvious, his knuckles whitening with each more intense roll of your hips.
You were completely unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts Heeseung was struggling to suppress, the inner battle not to completely surrender, knowing that doing so would mean having his orgasm far too soon. His tightly shut eyes weren’t simply a reaction to the pleasure; they were a desperate attempt to control the terror of losing himself and ruining the moment. Clutching the sheets grounded some rational part in him. 
Realizing you wouldn't stop anytime soon had him making the embarrassing decision to state the obvious. So amid the deafening silence, broken only by the soft moans from both of you, Heeseung’s voice sliced through.
“If you keep going, then–” he cut himself off with a shaky moan, his body betraying his words as his hips jerked upward, desperate to meet your grinding. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grip your waist and force you to keep moving – a choice he made himself. “Then I won’t last…”
“Then don’t.”
His heavy eyelids fluttered open, pupils blown wide with dazed confusion after your quick, yet steady reply. The second he caught the silent demand in your eyes his breath hitched, and a shiver visibly ran through him. “What… What do you mean?”
A slow smirk curled on your lips as you laced your fingers around his wrists, pinning them to the mattress near his handsome face with enough force to act as a reminder. Your hips rolled forward, deliberate and unhurried, dragging out every friction-filled second. The heat between you was stifling, and you swore you could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.
Heeseung’s gaze flickered between your piercing expression and the maddening rhythm of your hips, his flushed cheeks only growing redder. His lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his beautiful round eyes open, his parted lips spilling out breathy whimpers, while you relished every second of it.
“You think you can cum just from me riding you fully clothed, Hee?” 
Your explanation came in the form of an ask, a very filthy, lustful guided question, your velvety tone cursing through his nerves, erasing the straight thoughts that struggled to keep existing inside his head, his self-control pathetically slipping through his inner grasp.
All Heeseung could see and feel was you, torturing his mind, pulling him deeper into the haze of overwhelming desire.
“Fuck,” he breathed a curse, head tipping back as his hands clenched into fists beneath your grip. You were unreal – his dream girl made flesh, effortlessly destroying him without even taking off a single layer of clothing. “Fuck, I definitely can, but–”
Another interruption with a beautiful whimper. Oh, you were enjoying it so much; were you in heaven? Or hell? Either way, you didn’t want to leave. 
“But…?” You urged smoothly with a mellow tone, even cocking your head to the side as if that would add a charm for your wicked character, because you, more than anyone, knew what your next decision would be.
As expected, a strangled moan escaped Heeseung when you pressed down harder, his body reacting before he could think, his back arching slightly as his expression crumbled in pleasure. 
Heeseung tried desperately to find any rational reason amid the flood of thoughts you had filled his head with – anything beyond the humiliating and obvious truth that he didn't want to reach to cum just yet.
“But I don’t have spare clothes here,” he concluded in one go, voice trembling with equal parts desperation and restraint, since he was going through a strong rush of delightful emotions. 
You hummed, amused by the fact that he could still manage to form a coherent thought in his current state. Leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, you whispered, “Fair point, Hee,” before releasing your grip on his wrist. “Shall we solve this little problem, then?”
Without waiting for a response, you pulled away, beginning to undress your upper body, tossing your shirt carelessly onto the floor. Heeseung remained frozen in place, his hooded eyes blinking slowly, staring at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering heat of your body against his, trying to process your words.
It wasn’t until you softly murmured his nickname that his attention snapped back to you, his gaze shifting from confusion to unapologetic hunger as it took in your fully exposed form.
The gasp escaped him before he could stop it, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at his immediate, spontaneous reaction. The warmth in your chest contrasted with the lustful heat guiding your actions and clouding your thoughts. Heeseung was too cute for your poor heart. 
“Damn,” Heeseung whispered after propping himself up on his elbows to take you in better, his eyes filled with awe as he admired your body while you approached.
His gaze traced every inch of your skin, the curves he had so often dreamed about touching, your beautiful boobs, often where he rested his cheeks within your usual hug, now laid bare in front of him, like a perfect canvas for him to finally savor.
Heeseung’s eyes stopped on your uncovered pussy, darting back to your legs every once in a millisecond as if he didn’t know where to look. You watched as he ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting it, almost as if entranced with you. 
The compliment that followed was engulfed in sincerity, leaving no room for doubt about it. And you smiled in response.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
It was common for you to receive compliments; you were aware of your beauty and felt confident in it. However, receiving a compliment from Heeseung felt different, somehow more special, because it came from someone you cared about and liked. 
You worried about being pretty in Heeseung’s eyes. 
Thanks to the soft light in your room, you didn’t have to explain why your cheeks had flushed, knowing that from the distance Heeseung wouldn’t be able to notice.
For a brief moment you thought you would have to tell him to occupy the same form as you – naked. But thankfully he understood the message loud and clear after eye-fucking your body for a while, sitting up to remove his shirt with his back turned to you. You took the opportunity to grab a condom from your nightstand.
Heeseung stood up to unbutton his belt and slip out of his jeans, which easily fell from his hips, leaving him in just his black underwear.
You already knew he had broad shoulders and a slim waist – some of his clothing choices certainly helped accentuate that discovery, and what a delightful one it was. Seeing it up close, nonetheless, had you indescribably overreacting.
The subtle muscles of his back flexed and tightened with each movement, having you clenching your cunt without even noticing. The smooth line of his spine was being accentuated by the blended dim light and silver-moonlight, which got your breath stuck in your throat; witnessing Heeseung undressing himself felt like visiting a museum, where a carved sculpture, chiseled by the gods with the softest, kindest, and most gifted hands of Olympus lived.
Your mouth watered with an unmistakable urge to bite and taste every inch of that lightly bronzed skin.
“God. And you’re a fucking sight,” you breathed, your words barely audible but filled with hunger.
Heeseung turned to look at you holding back a grin. Your eyes locked as now you sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for the little show to finish. Your mischievous smile revealed every single naughty thought that passed through your mind, and there was no shame in it.
You pressed your teeth on your bottom lip when you got a better view of his chest, your gaze leisurely roaming, taking in every tiny detail until they stopped at the bulge in his underwear. And there, your mouth salivated harder.
Heeseung remained still, relishing the way you openly admired him; the truth behind your ravenous eyes unveiled between the two of you, heightening the heat that was becoming nearly unbearable. It was clear how badly you desired him, and this had an undeniable effect on his cock, growing harder every second, pulsing with the need of some relief. 
Being adored wasn’t exactly something new to Heeseung, but he could certainly say that the way you expressed it stirred parts of him – parts he not only kept hidden from almost everyone, but was more than eager to explore with you.
And then, you purred, “Come here, hm?”
But instead of letting Heeseung come closer, you, yourself, shifted on the bed, moving onto all fours before deliberately crawling towards him, your gaze unwavering and charged, never breaking as you drew nearer. Heeseung was utterly stunned, gulping down the lump on his throat as he watched the unfolding filthy scene.
When you finally reached his handsome and ridiculously hot figure, you stopped, uplifting your torso to get on your knees and align perfectly with his height. Now face to face Heeseung finally let out the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding, his legs threatening to falter because, fucking shit, you, with your unyielding eyes and sexy demeanor, was tearing his resistance apart, breaking deliciously each part of his cohesive existence.
Oblivious to the actual state of Heeseung, your fingers reached out, barely ghosting over the sensitive flesh of his waist as you murmured extremely close to his ear, “Let me make you feel good.”
Heeseung exhaled sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze darkened, flickering between your neck and your bare boobs. For a second, he hesitated, hands halting mid-air because the tension between you two was nearly suffocating and he feared scaring you with his neediness.
Would it be okay to touch you, now that you were naked? What if he exceeded any silent boundaries he didn’t manage to catch?
Fuck. You looked so damn beautiful with the lunar glow against your skin, your gleaming eyes dripping with arousal and hunger as they roamed over his features when you leaned back, drinking in each quarter with care and attention. Heeseung felt seen, cherished even.
With the way your fingertips traced his abdomen simply to position your hands there, patiently waiting for a green sign, it quickly shattered whatever restraint he had left.
With a quiet, breathy groan Heeseung closed the gap, his hands finding your jawline, fingers pressing into your skin with a need so raw it sent shivers down your spine. You also moaned against his lips, his tongue searching for yours to deepen the contact.
By a not-so-gentle reminder of its painful neglect, Heeseung felt his sensitive dick twitch inside his underwear when you pushed him towards the bed, easily maneuvering his body to return to the previous position you both were in. Your thigh brushed exactly on his length and elicited an immediate moan.
But before you could settle on top of him with your lips still attached to each other, Heeseung broke away with an aching whisper, breathless.
“I’m so fucking hard.”
You lifted your head enough to meet his gaze, cocking it to the side in feigned confusion – you had heard him perfectly well. “Hm?”
He looked so cute, his brow furrowed and those wide eyes of his looking at you with longing, mixed with a trace of desperation. It was clear that the said desperation was only growing, becoming undeniable as he jerked his hips upwards, seeking contact with your bare pussy.
With a playful smile, you pushed yourself apart slightly, watching him groan in frustration; but even with the firm grip on your waist, he didn’t force you downwards. 
“Don’t make me wait longer…”
You raised an eyebrow, biting your lower lip as a thought crossed your mind. You had to test the waters of a conversation that had yet to be broached between the two of you  –  this was still your first night, after all.
“Where are your manners, Heeseung?”
Your voice held no real reprimand, but Heeseung couldn’t help feeling the urge to respond properly, just as much. He sighed a curse, the sound shaky as you hovered your lips over the abused skin of his neck.
“Fuck,” Heeseung had completely lost himself as you moved your hips to press against his without a warning, wincing due to the feel of your cunt so close, so deliberately teasing him, yet ridiculously distant.
His eyes squeezed shut, lips pursing tightly together in an effort to suppress the pathetic sounds threatening to escape. Heat rushed to his face, the flush of embarrassment coloring his skin as he realized how effortlessly you had taken control of him; the way you wore your behavior, so assertively and confident, was making him feel vulnerable in the best way possible. 
Heeseung’s voice cracked when he finally let out a frustrated but, crucially, submissive murmur. “Sorry… Please. Just don’t make me wait any longer– I need you. I’m so hard. Please…”
The waters had been tested, proving themselves warm and inviting. Heeseung responded well to your teasing and demeanor, his reactions fueling your confidence. So, you took the plunge, leaning in until your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear. 
“Good boy.”
A strange wave crashed through his body the moment his brain processed those syllables, piecing them together into a phrase that sent a jolt straight to his core. Good boy? Fuck. Heeseung barely managed to suppress a whimper, his muscles tensing as if trying to contain the way it unraveled him.
Being called that shouldn’t affect him so much, but how could he blame himself? You looked hot, sounded hotter, and the way you said it, so effortlessly sultry, made something in him snap. He realized then that he craved being your good boy more than he was willing to admit. If he weren’t so aware of his own self-destructive tendencies he would have half a mind to set your voice as his ringtone, only to hear it over and over. But he knew better. Knew he would end up ridiculously hard every time his phone rang.
Your wicked smirk told him everything – you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Enjoying the palpable control you had over his being, you leaned back just enough to catch the flicker of change on his flushed face. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, swimming with undivided attention and unspoken need. A heavy pulse throbbed beneath you, and instinctively, you clenched in response.
With a mocking tilt of your head, you let your voice drop to a sarcastic, almost bitter tone, “Let’s take off this last piece, shall we?” You motioned to his underwear, helping to remove it once he obeyed you. “I don’t want to make you wait any longer.” 
Heeseung grasped the scorn in words right away, the feigned sense of authority you offered hanging in the air and, ironically enough, elicited a breathy chuckle from his throat. 
It seemed Heeseung had finally found the woman he had always dreamed of – just as you felt a thrill coursing through your veins at the sight of a man so willing to accept your demanding behavior in the bedroom.
Your gaze dropped briefly to Heeseung’s lower body, eyes catching the sight of his cock standing angry and painfully hard, its impatience nearly palpable as it waited to be enveloped by your warmth. With a mental note to appreciate that part better later, you focused simply on putting the condom, jerking off a few times just to make sure it was right. 
Positioned just right, you aligned his leaking tip with your pulsing entrance, supporting yourself by pressing your hands firmly against his chest. The subtle brush of skin against skin had Heeseung letting out a shaky sigh, his hands that had once held your hips now rising to rest gently on your waist, trembling under the weight of anticipation.
He wasn’t just sensitive; he was on edge – nervous in more ways than one. He wasn’t sure how long he would last given the teasing foreplay, and with you pushing him to the brink, he wasn’t confident he would be able to go much longer than a few minutes. But the thing was, he wanted to last. He wanted to make a good impression, to show that he had the stamina and endurance to handle whatever you asked of him. He had lasted this long, so surely, he could hold on a little longer, right?
What he didn’t realize was that the idea of reaching the peak so quickly excited you just as much as the thought of lasting. Knowing that you could reduce him to the point where he would cum fast sent an odd, pleasurable thrill deep into your stomach.
Your eyes locked, Heeseung’s wide-round ones full of both eagerness and caution. Meanwhile, you maintained your poise, your charisma unwavering.
“Shit,” you muttered softly as you sank down, feeling him fill you completely.
You almost felt ridiculous for forcing your eyes to stay open, but you couldn’t help it.
To savor the sight of Heeseung’s lips slightly parted, his breath hitching as his lashes fluttered and his head tipped back was incomparable. The sight of his exposed, sweaty neck, the prominent Adam’s apple jutting out in an almost sinful way, was too much. Without realizing it, you clenched around him.
“Fuck,” Heeseung cursed back, trying to push you further down, hoping to reach the deepest part of you.
At first, you allowed him to guide you without resistance, the sensation of him fully inside you making a pleasurable sigh slip from your lips. But as Heeseung attempted to push you into movement without waiting for your adjustment you steadied yourself, securely resisting as a silent reminder. Just to make sure, you verbalized.
“Nuh-uh,” a mischievous grin curled your lips as you looked down at him, now with open eyes, pouting and frowning at you in a blend of frustration and confusion. “It’s cute how much you think you’re in control.”
His gaze faltered as your words fully sank in, the realization hitting him like a slow, delicious burn – he had absolutely idea what he had just gotten himself into. And, God, he wanted it. 
Of course, you would set the pace. Of course, you would call the shots. And him? He would take whatever you were willing to give. That’s what he deserved – what any man would be lucky to have. A woman like you, deciding exactly what to do with him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice small, almost shaky. As if repenting for his misstep, he hesitated before slowly removing his hands from where they had rested, leaving them suspended in the air, an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
You found it adorable.
A soft, amused chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His irises, warm and desperate, watched you intently, hanging onto your next move with delicious longing. You reached for his wrists, gently guiding them up before pinning them to the mattress, securing them above his head.
Something about the action made Heeseung’s skin prickle with a new kind of excitement. It felt foreign but in the best way – like dipping his toes into uncharted territory and finding himself desperate to dive in. He wanted more. Feeling your warmth around him wasn’t enough. The snug heat of your walls was intoxicating, but it lacked the friction he was beginning to ache for.
“Relax,” you mused, maintaining eye contact as you read the conflict in his gaze. “I’m not that cruel.”
And with that, you rolled your hips forward, then back, deliberately slow, setting a languid rhythm that promised to build.
A guttural moan tore from Heeseung’s throat, as if he had been holding it in for God knows how long. His arms twitched, instinctively testing your grip. He could’ve easily broken free, his strength alone was enough to flip the entire situation in his favor. But he didn’t. He stayed there, restrained beneath you, completely at your mercy.
And knowing that Heeseung, tall, strong, capable, could take control at any moment, but chose not to? That alone drove you absolutely insane.
With a newfound determination – one guided by the desire to give that man just as much pleasure as he was giving you – you quickened your pace. Your own sounds spilled from your lips, unrestrained, unchecked, lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.
To Heeseung it was nothing short of a celestial choir. The delicate pitch of your moans, the breathy whimpers slipping through in between sent shivers down his spine. Every sound you made felt like a melody crafted just for him, threading through his veins, coiling low in his stomach, making it near impossible to think straight.
He did his best to meet your movements, hips twitching as he attempted to thrust upward, but the position did him no favors; his efforts were stifled, his range of motion limited, and as if that weren’t enough to set him on the edge, the sinful sight of your breasts bouncing right in front of him, so close yet just out of reach, only worsened his predicament.
“Fuck,” Heeseung groaned, his voice laced with frustration and raw need. A slow, burning heat spread through his body, intensifying with each calculated movement of your hips, the sensation pooling deep in his lower stomach.
Your gaze drifted to his face, taking in the way his features twisted in pleasure. His eyes barely managed to stay open, rolling back as the squeeze of your walls tightened around him, gripping him in a way that made his breath hitch.
Your hips now moved with purpose, with intention; the way you shifted your motions between rocking back and forth, to bouncing, to drawing circles, making sure his dick touched every part of your warm and slick interior was maddening. 
And Heeseung’s body ached for yours just as much. 
“Please–” The first actual plea fell past his parted lips, a cry tone covering each syllable with an attractive lust. “Don't stop. I’m getting close–”
Defying his request, however, you decided to slowly decrease your pace to something that drew Heeseung way too close to completely losing it. He looked at you like you were crazy, though he also had the chance to appreciate the faint light that bathed the room, the silver moonlight gleaming on your skin like an ethereal, priceless painting.
Your actions, on the other hand, were evil as hell.
In between a soft giggle, you leaned forward to approach his lips, muttering, “You want that, don't you?”
A silent nod and one more broken, whispered “Please,” from him graced your ears, eliciting your smile to grow wickedly. Then, you brushed your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, barely there, just enough to tease.
As you pulled away, you caught his bottom lip between yours, sucking it gently before letting it slip free with a soft, wet pop. The momentary loss of contact had Heeseung chasing after you, his body acting on pure instinct, pathetically desperate, but you only watched, amused at his demeanor.
You released his wrists, only to guide his warm hands to the connection of your waist and thighs, your own palms covering them to ensure they stayed exactly where you wanted.
With your back straight and posture unwavering, your body went completely still as you lifted yourself ever so slightly – just enough to leave only the pulsing tip of his length nestled inside you, offering no friction, no relief.
“I'm not moving, Hee…” The teasing lilt in your voice was so blatant it was almost cruel.
Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze roaming over you, trying to ground himself in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers. But it was useless, he was already too far gone, lost in the pleasure that you so effortlessly denied him.
With a voice like silk, dripping with wicked delight, you murmured, “Show me how desperate you are.”
Heeseung’s breath hitched, his lightly teary eyes darting up to meet yours before flickering downward, lingering on the tantalizing view of your bare chest, and finally settling on where your bodies were still joined.
There was a flash of hesitation, of confusion and innocence, but the moment he caught the knowing smirk on your lips, the way you remained idle, expectant, understanding dawned on him.
“Come on, Hee,” you urged, rolling your hips just enough to offer the barest hint of friction, a mere whisper of what he craved. “Be a good boy for me, mmh?”
Heeseung's grip on your sides tightened with fervor, his darkened gaze searching yours for confirmation – a silent plea to ensure this was exactly what you wanted. The subtle nod you gave was all he needed. Bracing himself, he propped his knees up, pressing his feet into the mattress for support before thrusting into you.
The first stroke was tentative, his body shuddering as he fully sheathed himself inside you once more, adjusting to the scorching heat that enveloped him. But once he settled, his hesitation melted into determination. Heeseung seized your hips, pulling you down with the same force he drove upward, setting a relentless rhythm that filled the air with the sinful melody of skin meeting skin, mingling with the desperate sounds spilling from your lips.
Your hands instinctively sought stability against the headboard, but the moment Heeseung found that sweet spot inside you, angled just right, you abandoned any attempt. Instead, you melted against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moans and breathless whimpers vibrating against his sweat-slicked skin. Your fingers tangled in his messy strands, clutching for purchase as pleasure spiraled higher.
“Hee–Heeseung,” you nearly sobbed, your voice trembling, a blissful hum following right after. “Right there. Right fucking there,” you gritted out, laced with a warning tone so he wouldn’t dare to stop. 
And he wouldn’t. Not when you squeezed around him like that. Not when your voice turned so sweetly desperate near his ear. Not when he felt you tremble with each merciless thrust straight into that spot.
The coil felt impossibly tight, the telltale heat building in his core, threatening to snap at any second. Heeseung was helpless to fight it, his release crashing over him with overwhelming intensity; his entire body tensed as he slammed his hips up one final time, holding you there, buried to the hilt, shaking as he moaned your name with shameless abandon. 
The way he gripped you, the way he trembled beneath you, the guttural sounds spilling from his lips and, fuck, how firmly he pressed right into your cervix was more than enough to push you over the edge. You shattered around him, clenching so hard it pulled another ragged groan from his throat, your own cries of pleasure filling the space as you unraveled together.
Heeseung filled the condom inside of your sensitiveness and sent a wave of aftershock through your body, the pleasant high still coating your senses
Heavy, ragged breaths were all that remained in the aftermath, your thighs burning with exhaustion, your body too spent to move. Heeseung was no better – completely dazed, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure.
At some point, Heeseung genuinely wondered if he had just died; his entire body slackened after holding so much tension and releasing it through an overwhelming orgasm, a blissful numbness overtaking his limbs. And honestly? If this was the afterlife, he wouldn’t mind staying a little longer.
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Monday morning felt as ordinary as any other – except it wasn’t. Not really. Because, apparently, your new normal now involved making out with Heeseung in the parking lot, tucked away behind his car like a couple of reckless teenagers sneaking around.
The difference? You were both adults. Professors, no less. The same ones who had caught students kissing in this very spot more times than you could count.
“Will I see you later?” You asked, voice deliberately sweet, a playful melody slipping through.
It was a side of you that only surfaced around Heeseung, one he seemed to enjoy, judging by the way he looked at you – eyes filled with something warm, something fond.
His hands rested securely on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders, fingers idly playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Everything was in its rightful place.
“Not sure if I can, babe.”
Babe.
The pet name had rolled off his tongue for the first time that morning when he greeted you, as effortless as the kiss that followed, although he had cheeks burning in shyness afraid of your reaction. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind one bit; not when it sent a pleasant flutter through your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound of it. It was far too nice of a feeling to brush off.
You pouted, though you didn’t push for an answer. “That’s okay.”
Still, Heeseung felt the need to explain. “I’ve got a meeting with the principal.”
The mere mention of that title made your heart jolt and a brief grimace filled your features. Your gaze darted around on instinct, as if expecting the man to materialize out of thin air. Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused with your adorable reaction. 
“Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out?” He teased, tilting your chin up so you would meet his gaze again. His thumb brushed over your jaw in a way that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. “I’m the new hire, after all. Your job is way more secure than mine.”
“Which is exactly why I’m being careful,” you shot back, your playful smirk making him shake his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t wanna have to visit you at another school.”
“Idiot,” he huffed, rolling his eyes before kissing you again, shutting you up effectively, as your giggle got lost amidst the touch.
That newfound intimacy with Heeseung was sudden, yet it could easily become a routine – one you would never tire of, nor worry about growing dull. There was an undeniable clarity in how every touch, every exchange with him felt like it would only surprise and satisfy you more than the last. The way he held you, how he enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth and quiet affection, was something you allowed yourself to sink into without resistance. 
The previous day had been an unintentional experiment, one that had answered questions you hadn’t even realized you had. 
Truth be told, your interest in Heeseung had sparked the very first time you met. The tension, the lingering glances, the way your breath hitched in his presence – it had all been telling signs that liking him was inevitable. Falling for him? Even more so. He not only embraced your personality but adapted to it so effortlessly, just as you found yourself welcoming every meticulous, endearing detail about him. Falling for Heeseung felt easy. Natural. Maybe even fated.
Kissing him was like dissolving into an ocean of calm and reassurance you hadn’t known you craved – or needed. Kissing him was slowly, irrevocably, becoming everything.
The chime of your phone interrupted the moment, the alarm you had set reminding you that it was time to head inside. Yes. You had both arrived early just to steal a few moments alone, and yes, you had actually set a timer to make sure you wouldn’t lose track of time.
As you pulled away, your gaze immediately sought his, desperate to capture one last glimpse of that breathtaking face.
“Well, guess I’ll see you around,” you sighed, lips jutting out in another small pout. The idea of not seeing him again for the rest of the day left a dull ache in your chest, and in the past, that feeling might have unsettled you.
But here, with his hands still firm on your waist, grounding you, you could only think of how much more you wanted to stay and feel everything he could yield to you.
Heeseung smirked before pecking your lips quickly, his eyes glinting with something that was equal parts fondness and longing – with just a hint of something else. Something that told you he, too, wished he could spend the rest of the day with you. Or maybe all the days after that.
“See you, babe.”
So saying your classes had been boring ever since was an understatement. Sure, you loved what you did. You had studied and dedicated yourself from day one to get where you were. Designing projects, planning assignments, even crafting exams gave you a very particular thrill that nothing else quite matched – until Heeseung came along.
Not having him around left you restless, almost anxious, like counting the minutes wasn’t enough to settle you. You needed him here. Every single second.
The problem was that work consumed both of you in ways neither could escape. As a new hire, Heeseung was still juggling personal studies while handling the avalanche of subjects thrown onto his plate to deal with. You, on the other hand, already a few steps ahead in the hierarchy, carried the weight of being a solid reference for others, staying committed to improving every day, striving towards eventually securing a senior position.
Making a name for yourself in academia demanded everything – writing papers, conducting deeper, more intensive research. You had carved out time in your routine to focus on it. But now, all you could focus on was Heeseung.
Heeseung was affecting your emotions, your life, and your behavior. There was no denying it.
Throughout your life, you had always been decisive, firm in your choices, knowing what was best for you without hesitation. Sure, there was a level of flexibility and freedom, but even that was deeply tied to your essence. You grew up in spaces that tried to tame you, but that only made you more aware of your own vastness, the greatness you wanted to embrace.
There were no second thoughts. Not frequently, at least. There was no other way to be yourself without shutting out external noise, without disregarding the opinions of those who barely knew you. That built a barrier, one you had come to see as normal, where only a select few ever glimpsed your vulnerability. The thought of being seen in your most hesitant, insecure state was terrifying.
Then, Heeseung.
He made you vulnerable, somehow, to be open about worries you would usually brush off and avoid talking about, and it never felt forced; it was effortless, natural, he genuinely wanted to listen, and even help.
At the same time, he made you self-conscious about things you had never cared for before. Your hair, your outfit choices – would they draw the same reaction he always gave you? That slow, shameless gaze, eyes dark with attraction, followed by a compliment so sweet it almost rivaled the warmth in his own deep, espresso-colored stare.
He had you questioning if you fit into the mold of what he might want, never realizing that, to him, you as you were had always been enough.
At home, staring at the empty page of the research paper you were supposed to be working on, your mind was nowhere near academic focus. It was filled with the longing to have him close. No ulterior motives, no underlying intentions, just his presence. Just him. The warmth of his scent in the air, grounding you, centering you.
A thought lingered in the back of your mind. Was it too much to wish you were already living together? Or at least close enough to have him around all the time? You could picture it so clearly: the faint smell of soap clinging to the air as he walked into your office, setting a fresh cup of coffee on your desk, dressed in cozy, oversized clothes, his usual soft expression in place, trying to coax you to bed with him using those beautiful bambi-eyes.
Fuck.
Your fingers curled around your phone instinctively, his contact already pulled up before you even processed the action. But just as quickly, you let out a sharp breath and placed it back down, screen-side down on the desk. Running your hands over your temples, you exhaled, forcing yourself to focus back on the laptop in front of you.
In terms of relationships, balance had never been your strong suit if you tried to be honest; not knowing when to shut out emotions and focus solely on work because of affectual interests, or when to let yourself indulge in personal desires – especially now, when Heeseung had completely messed with your ability to separate the two. 
Because everything with him felt inevitable. The meetings, the glances, the desire. And whatever this was, this unnamed thing between you, it was starting to feel dangerously close to building a place to settle that thing called love. 
On a side note, there was this ongoing feeling of going too fast, of overdoing. The kiss was alright in terms of period, but the sex only two days later? Wasn’t it too… exaggerated? Did it really please him?
You were always so sure of yourself, yet, with Heeseung, you were walking a tightrope, afraid of losing him or losing yourself in the process. Sex with him had only intensified things, your mind spinning amidst a dense cloud of thoughts. Whatever fragile restraints had been holding you back from falling completely had snapped, like some unseen force was screaming at you to open your eyes.
He was exactly what you wanted.
But what if it all fell apart? What if he didn’t want anything serious? The doubts tried to creep in, but the image of his charming smile fought to erase them. Heeseung.
The man who carried a quiet, bashful aura but sometimes put on a confident front, only to fumble shortly after, making you laugh at how effortlessly endearing he was.
The man who hesitated to touch you but, when he did, held you with certainty, with possession, as if having you close was the only thing he was ever sure of.
The man who memorized your coffee order and would show up in the morning with a steaming cup, shrugging casually as he muttered, “The morning coffee here kinda sucks. A pretty girl once taught me that. So, I got you a real one.”
The man who read you so easily, as if every little part of you was worth memorizing. 
“Damn,” you muttered under your breath, the sound of your own voice startling you in the silence that had settled over the past few hours – save for the rustling leaves outside and the mess inside your mind.
You bit down on your lower lip, your chest tightening with a feeling you could only name as longing. There was no other explanation. You missed Heeseung.
After days of sneaking moments together before classes, and barely having time to exchange messages in between, Heeseung had become part of your routine, fitting like a moon pulling the tide just right, a slow dance of heartbeats syncing. And you wanted him to stay in it.
But then came the tide of uncertainties. Would he slip away just as quickly as he had settled in? Were you moving too fast? Would it hurt to dive headfirst into something so intense? Yet, Heeseung wasn’t shallow waters, you wouldn’t hit rock bottom if you chose to dive into the depth of him.
Still, amidst the inner turmoil, the voice of reason, one that years of therapy had helped you shape, resurfaced: you wouldn’t know unless you asked. If he wasn’t truthful, that was on him, but all you could do was trust the words he chose to give you.
And Heeseung had never given you a reason to doubt him. There was no air of deception in his presence, no undertone of dishonesty in his words. His gaze held sincerity, his smile radiated warmth. He seemed genuine in everything he did, in every subtle move, in every interaction. In the way his lips ghosted over yours, the way he pulled you close, the way he let you take the lead more often than not.
He was just… too good.
You barely noticed your fingers sliding across your phone screen until you found his contact, dialing before you could second-guess yourself. No warning, no message, just your voice reaching out to him in the thick of the night, unfiltered, unguarded.
With each ring, your heart pounded harder, matching the steady rhythm of it. And when Heeseung finally answered, his voice rough with sleep yet laced with that familiar tenderness he always carried when it came to you, your breath hitched. No explanations, no preamble. Without thinking, without even registering how late it was or that you had probably woken him, you asked.
“Do you think we're going too fast?”
On the other end of the line, Heeseung, who had just settled into the comfort of his bed after reviewing his lessons for the next day, immediately sat up to give you his full attention. Instead of probing further, he picked up on the underlying worry in your voice, the slight hint of anxiety, and chose his words carefully.
“No, I don’t think we are. Honestly, we’re just right, babe,” he said, with a double meaning carefully embedded not just to respond to your question but to remove any lingering doubts. His voice, as soft as ever, was clear when he added, “What made you think we’re moving too fast, love?”
Love.
“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You muttered under your breath, unable to suppress the immediate reaction that his endearment caused. Another one added to the collection, this one carrying a different weight – one that sank deep in your stomach, settling in your chest in a surreal... but strangely comforting way.
Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions; a tremor of apprehension coursing through his veins, yet warmth blooming in his chest, right where his heart pounded just a little too fast, a little too hard. He couldn’t deny the pet name had rolled off his tongue without forethought, slipping past his lips as naturally as a heartbeat. 
He waited in the silence, not just because he feared he had messed up, but because he genuinely wanted you to clarify the reason behind your sudden call and the unexpected question. He respected your need to reflect before responding.
But the silence... It was growing deafening.
“I– I don’t know what’ve gotten to me, actually,” you finally confessed, leaning back in your chair with a sigh. Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of your own words before they left your mouth. “I think it’s just a fear of losing what we have, mixed with a hesitation to dive into something that’s giving me some uncertainty.”
Now it was Heeseung’s turn to let silence speak for him. Uncertainty? Was that what he was making you feel? Unsure? The thought alone sent a heavy weight crashing down on his chest, his stomach dropping as a chill spread through his body, seeping into his bones like ice water. His throat tightened, the unspoken question lodged there, thick and heavy, pressing against his vocal cords until he finally forced it out.
“Am I giving you uncertainty, Y/N?”
The change in Heeseung’s voice, from soft to serious, was evident and sent an instant wave of panic through you.
“No!” You responded urgently, your voice rising a few notes, and you automatically straightened up in your chair as though it would help to elucidate what you meant. “No, not you. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I trust everything you do and show me through your actions and words. I trust what you say. I trust how you feel. I trust you.”
“It’s good to know,” he replied, his voice softer again, “because I trust you too. In every way.”
There was a thin, delicate line between the weight of his words, a line that stretched from your physical connection previously explored to the deeper trust you were building together. You both were learning how to create a comfortable space for one another, even though it sometimes came with its own set of challenges and discomfort.
Another moment of silence stretched out between you two as though the air itself had become weighed down by invisible clouds of tension. It was like a storm had suddenly rolled in, filling the room with a suffocating pressure that made it difficult to breathe; your lungs felt tight, struggling to maintain a normal rhythm.
But Heeseung… Heeseung was the one who read you once again. It was as if he could read every chapter of your life with a quiet understanding, his fingers tracing each line of your story with such ease. It wasn’t about knowing what came next or predicting the end, it was about savoring the journey, knowing that each new chapter would only lead him to admire you more and want you just as much.
Breaking the silence, his voice was gentle when he said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming in a few.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, your shoulders shifting slightly as you did so, “Yeah. There is.”
Heeseung had fully reclined against the headboard of his bed by now, his legs stretched out and subtly fidgeting with a subtle, almost sweet kind of nervousness – the kind that felt eerily, yet delightfully similar to having a crush.
Heeseung flushed easily whenever you looked at him for too long, and quickly averted his gaze when you crossed paths in the hall, afraid that his emotions might spill over and give him away. His ears would go red every time you complimented him, and the memories of the night you two shared would replay in his mind over and over again, stirring sensations that were both tender and a little... impolite.
And to top it all off, wrapping it up together, it was impossible for him to hide the way his heart raced at just the thought of seeing you, let alone touching you, kissing you, or being in more intimate, vulnerable spaces with you – not only sexually but in terms of personal experiences, too.
Exploring different aspects of life with you sounded exciting, he could feel his pulse quickening with some kind of thrill he couldn’t remember experiencing before. Right now, however, the throbbing beats of his heart signaled dread, pointing out that he wasn’t just excited to continue on that path with you, but he feared losing the possibility to do so. 
“I trust you, Hee.” Simply to be certain, you repeated yourself. “But I can’t lie that this scares me to some extent,” Heeseung hummed in agreement for you to keep talking. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t think I ever cared this much about how things were going, y’know? I never cared if I should wear a color that someone thinks looks pretty on me. Or that I should act some way… Or even if I– if I had sex before actually dating someone. I don’t have a problem with that.”
On the other side, Heeseung blushed. It was the actual first time that “dating” was brought into a conversation between you two and although it was the natural course of relationships, he never thought about having to ask you to be his girlfriend.
It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it was more than obvious that he was with you and only you. Hearing those words, though, shed light on his thoughts, and he made a mental note to plan something special and ask you to be his girlfriend.
Heeseung was willing to listen to every little concern you had and to offer you the security you needed. And if that meant simply asking you to be his, then he would do so with all the joy in the world.
“And then you call me love.”
There it was, the root of the issue. Heeseung sighed softly, but it wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion from what you were saying, it was more of a realization, a moment where everything clicked and he finally understood what had been causing all these thoughts to swirl around.
“Y/N,” he said gently, your name flowing from his lips like honey. You hummed in response. “First of all, I’m sorry for not clarifying my intentions better. I don’t think we’re moving too fast. In fact, I really like our dynamic and how we seem to make things work between us.”
Hearing his side of things, without having to imagine terrible monsters in your head, was freeing. You finally understood what set Heeseung apart from the others: he made a point to communicate and, most importantly, to listen to you.
“And... I called you ‘love’ not because I love you. Not yet.” Instead of the weight of heartache and unrelenting tension, you... relaxed. There was no pressure for any rush. “I called you love because I think it’s a cute nickname, and I do want to love you, Y/N. Eventually.” He paused, his voice thick with sincerity. “I think love is something that’s built, crafted little by little, by both sides. I don’t say it if I don’t mean it.”
A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “I want to love you too, Hee.”
“So let’s take this at our pace. How does that sound?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, as though his thoughts had passed the barrier of caution and were now spilling out freely. “I want to kiss you every morning before work because I like you. But you don’t have to feel pressured to like me back.”
“I do like you, though,” you murmured quietly, almost like it was a secret.
Heeseung chuckled softly, a low, subtle sound that perfectly matched the soothing atmosphere that had settled around you both. “I’m thankful then.”
A gentle silence fell over the moment, your heart racing, but not from anxiety. It was because, for the first time, you felt like you had found someone truly important, someone special and irreplaceable, who seemed willing to build something real with you.
If Heeseung read you like his favorite book, you wanted to create an incredible story with him. And with that thought, you asked, under the moonlight that spilled through your curtains.
“Let’s start our chapter one. Shall we?”
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“I love kissing you, oh my God,” Heeseung whispered against your mouth, words muffed as you pressed your bodies together.
With only a few minutes left before the lecture you both were set to deliver, a sudden wave of nervousness crashed over you, hitting deep as the realization settled: soon, you would be sharing the stage to talk about an extremely important topic with the very man who had starred in your most sinful dreams. Dreams that, over the past few weeks, had shifted from mere fantasy into breathtaking reality.
It was a relatively large lecture in terms of audience size, and while it was the kind of event you genuinely enjoyed with a dynamic exchange of ideas between the speakers, with the audience observing the unfolding of thoughts, you had been assigned as the main host.
Heeseung, still new to this environment, was positioned as the co-host, with you acting as his guide, leading the discussion and stepping in if needed.
Not once did you doubt Heeseung’s abilities. Over the past few days, both of you had dedicated intense yet careful effort to reviewing every key point, ensuring that nothing was left unpolished. That was when you noticed just how similar he was to you. He preferred to structure his speech around key topics, allowing the conversation to flow naturally, trusting in his knowledge rather than rigidly following a script.
And, God, was he hot when he read through his notes with furrowed eyebrows in deep concentration, glasses perched perfectly on his round, yet pointy nose, those dark eyes scanning the words with precise focus. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly attractive he looked while working.
Furthermore, Heeseung showed signs of apprehension as well during the minutes before starting it; added with how delectable he looked in that dress shirt and gold-framed glasses and to kill two birds with one stone, you lured the said man into following you to a nearby bathroom, using the excuse of needing his help to grab some materials you forgot in another class.
In reality, your plan was to grab his collar and pull him into the confined space to share some kisses. And of course, the kisses were leading to something way more far than you expected.
Heeseung had discovered that kissing you was his favorite sport, and even as his lungs burned and begged for relief, he would rather lose himself in your lips than pull away. Dying in your arms because he couldn’t bear to let you go sounded both poetic and achingly genuine.
Then, there was almost a shift, as though a switch clicked, and the kiss would grow deeper and more wanting. It remained slow, perfectly slow and affectionate, but carried an undeniable neediness. Hands once resting respectfully on waists and necks would begin to wander, indulging in the freedom to explore lustful territories, and Heeseung’s body would start to betray him, throbbing in anticipation. 
That one kiss, however, was escalating quickly into a frantic rhythm, heading towards a heated and intense atmosphere far too inappropriate for a workplace. But, on your part, you seemed to care little, feeling a burning need for him like never before.
It was an odd sensation, this overwhelming desire to have Heeseung inside you in the most sinful way possible. The kiss, which had started as a means to calm your nerves, quickly morphed into a chaotic tangle of hands ruffling clothes and hair, desperately grabbing at any inch of covered and exposed skin as a way to relieve the growing arousal between you two. Breaths intertwined in a fiery rhythm, each exhale more desperate than the last.
“Fuck,” you moaned against Heeseung’s lips as his large hands gripped your ass, squeezing with an urgency that made your head spin and your breath to hitch. 
Your beautiful noise triggered an electric pulse that shot straight to Heeseung’s arousal state, causing his dick to become increasingly stiff, the fabric around it starting to feel suffocating. He pushed you back against the sink’s counter, lifting you effortlessly and seating you on the edge, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
Your fingers gripped his face tightly, almost as if you were afraid of losing him, weaving into his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands that had grown just enough to become your new addiction. Heeseung’s touch was like a drug, each caress making it harder to pull away from him, as if losing yourself amidst his brown locks would somehow break the spell.
His hands roamed lower, exploring with a quiet urgency, trying to trace every inch of you without leaving actual marks; your thighs were his favorite place to lose himself and in any other given moment he would definitely be buried deep between them.
Seeking a break to allow your breaths to find a steady rhythm, Heeseung trailed his lips down your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. Yet, his movements were slightly hindered by the persistent frame of his glasses, which kept getting in the way , nudging against your skin, slipping down his nose, and frustrating his efforts to fully indulge in the moment. 
Although he struggled to ignore, he made sure one of his hands remained firmly planted on the marble surface behind you, ensuring you wouldn't lose balance, while the other wandered shamelessly over your thigh, fingertips tracing the fabric of your tailored slacks with deliberate intent.
“You look so fucking good in these,” he murmured between wet, heated kisses, his lips mapping out the sensitive spot on your neck he already knew too well.
A soft, breathy chuckle escaped you as you tilted your head back, granting him full access, your own fingers getting lost amidst his hair, pulling him closer. But just as quickly as the amusement flickered across your face, it melted into an expression contorted in pleasure, body betraying you.
“I always wear these…” You managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.
Heeseung let out a low giggle against your skin, a sinful sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Exactly,” he mused, voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re always so fucking hot.”
Without even realizing it, your hips rolled forward, chasing the friction your body so desperately craved. And it was only then, as a deep heat pooled low in your stomach, that you became fully aware of just how ruined your panties already were. You were wet and needy for something, for someone. Precisely, for Heeseung. 
Having his touch so close to your pulsing cunt made it difficult not to get more demanding of contact, to succumb into whatever he was willing to give you, so you guided your command. 
“Help me remove it.”
Heeseung didn’t question further – he didn’t have to. Not when you had made your intentions crystal clear as your hand trailed down to unbutton your pants, fingers working decisively and quickly. Without hesitation, you reached for his hand, leading it to the waistband of your pants and urging him to tug them down, silently inviting him to take things beyond mere kisses.
The air was thicker than ever when Heeseung halted his kisses on your neck and saw your bare thighs as well as a glimpse of the wet spot in your panties, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. His body reacted immediately, the sight setting every nerve on fire and making it impossible to focus on anything else other than your pussy.
His lips fell ajar, whispering ragged breaths that rawly exposed his desire; the clenched jaw also was an indicator he was getting just as needy, and his cock growing heavier and harder inside his underwear was barely containable. 
“I want your fingers,” within a murmur, you revealed what you wanted once realization hit you about Heeseung. He was about to get on his knees in order to be at the height of your pulsing core, his eyes locked with it as if he was in trance, but you didn’t have time to enjoy a proper head. 
Besides, that part of his body was definitely one of your biggest weaknesses. 
Heeseung looked at you with that mesmerizing gaze, filled with a type of confusion and innocence that you only met in them, where somehow it molded a perfect fuckable expression that gnawed at your necessity of ruining it.
Then, you pulled the hand resting in your thigh to guide it towards your mouth, where you gently wrapped your lips around his middle and ring finger, enveloping them into the warmthness of your humid interior; your tongue danced between them as you deliberately sucked, not once breaking eye contact. 
Heeseung’s breath struggled to keep a pace, his eyes charmed by the alluring view you were giving – and for free. He was focused, as if you were spilling all the important information in the world to him; instead, you were making his dick twitch, since the feeling of your wet muscle brushing against his skin were sending straightforward messages to his sensitive and neglected area. He had to hold back a pathetic whimper threatening to escape.
With a smirk, you released Heeseung’s fingers slightly covered in your saliva, a string of the fluid connecting both areas, but held them close to your lips, grazing over it.
When you next talked, it tickled both skins. “I want them,” and, slowly but surely, you directed his hand downwards, Heeseung intense stare following until you stopped on your pussy, where, with your other hand, you pushed your underwear to the side. “Here.”
It was amusing and funny to perceive the way Heeseung’s breath hitched in his throat before he let out a sharp gasp, his gaze locking onto yours in search of an answer beyond the obvious, like he was utterly stunned with your request.
“Right now?” He asked, his voice airy, every ounce of disbelief laid bare as well as the typical hint of innocence and confusion. Heeseung was so fucking adorable. Having his big bambi eyes decorated by those gold-framed glasses was a sinful image.
Yet, his reaction stood in contrast to his actions; he was already closing the small space between you, his fingers, the very ones you had guided there, now teasing against your pulsing, needy pussy.
“Yes, baby,” you nodded, a taunting sultry grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Right now.”
Heeseung watched in awe and with his heartbeats accelerated how confident on your demand you were by forcing his fingers inside before releasing your grip, leaving your wetness in full display to his digits to play with; you had flattened your palms on the counter beneath you, searching for support and to grant easier access.
“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling the unmistakable throb of his dick inside his underwear. 
Randomly, a flicker of moral consciousness urged Heeseung to glance towards the locked bathroom door, as if someone might materialize out of thin air and catch the two of you in an undeniably compromising position.
This wasn’t him. He had always been the ideal student and eventually the dedicated professional, the man who prided himself on focus and discipline… But how the hell was he supposed to resist you?
The restroom you had chosen was one reserved for faculty – small but comfortable, designed for privacy, with only a single stall and sink. More than enough space to accommodate two professors caught in the heat of their desires.
Unlike Heeseung, you weren’t oblivious to the whispered stories of other faculty members using the same space for similar purposes, and that knowledge alone reassured you that the risk of getting caught was low.
But Heeseung’s sudden hesitation became palpable when he turned to look at you, one of his fingers still slowly burying itself inside you, yet his expression now laced with uncertainty, concern evident in the subtle furrow of his brows.
“Relax, baby,” you murmured, voice tinged with quiet reassurance as you rolled your hips forward, urging him deeper. Your half-lidded eyes locked onto his, inviting, unwavering. Heeseung winced. “I need you, hm?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. His breath faltered. And as if your words had snapped the last thread of restraint holding him back, his hesitation melted away, replaced by something darker, more desperate.
So Heeseung positioned himself into a comfortable position where his face was hidden in the crook of your neck, smelling the perfect mix of your perfume and natural scent while taking advantage to kiss you there. One arm held your waist and steaded your body while his other hand busied itself to please you.
Although it had started with one digit to stretch you out before adding the second one, you had to bite your lower lip in order to suppress the noises threatening to escape, since Heeseung easily found your sensitive spot from the very beginning and made sure to hit it with precision within each pound. And because of that, the strange intrusion quickly turned into a delightful wave of arousal flushing through your interior, your muffled whines growing louder.
Hearing your suppressed moans, however, was shattering Heeseung’s self-control, making it exponentially harder to contain the urge to get some relief himself. So almost unconsciously, yet deliberately, his hips started to move back and forth, brushing the painful boner on the edge of the counter.
“Fuck,” you mewled, hands flying to hold on Heeseung’s shoulders, intending to somehow anchor your spinning head and lost thoughts, but everything felt overwhelmingly good and you became pathetically desperate to have your orgasm. “Love your fingers, baby.”
The praise was more than honest, because Heeseung did, in fact, an amazing job inside you; flickering his fingers with mastery to curl at the very moment you needed them to, now speeding up the pace of his movements, wrists nearly burning from the exercise – and fortunately, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Not without your juices coating his digits.
You almost failed to catch the act of his hips rocking into anything that could give him some friction and consequently some kind of satisfaction. You even briefly wondered if your ears were deceiving you when soft moans grazed the skin of your neck, but Heeseung quickly confirmed your doubts not long after.
“I'm so hard,” he whined breathy in your neck, the pace on his fingers never faltering although his entire body shuddered within each soft thrust into the counter. 
From your lips, a cascade of curses blended with soft moans dripped, bouncing on the stillness of the walls surrounding you two, now more than never caring a little to nothing about getting caught; you, yourself, already extremely lost into pleasure the two digits fucking your pulsing cunt were providing. 
The position allowed his palm to glide across your bundle of nerves, ever so slightly giving the contact to drive you insane, you could feel your climax approaching. Your hands clutched the fabric of his blazer and you moaned. 
“So fucking good–”
“Will you cum for me, yeah?” Heeseung urged desperately, consciously wishing to finish you fast enough so you could help him out before heading back; even when he was somehow in control, he sounded completely surrendered to you, as if you owned each unique piece of his soul.
“Yes, yes, yes! I fucking will, oh my God,” your eyes rolled back and your whole body trembled, your muscles tensing the moment the coil in your core snapped.
Heeseung didn’t stop a second, fucking you through your high as your liquid drenched your long gone panties, stirring wet lewd sounds from the in and out. Your body jolted, nearly convulsing as Heeseung’s name fell past your lips amidst sobs; you noticed the mildly drying tears at the corner of your eyes as the world around you crumbled briefly into a blur.
“So pretty,” Heeseung murmured with his raspy tone against your cheek, kindly kissing the area as his fingers gradually slowed, eventually coming to a halt.
At the back of his mind, though, there was a faint reminder about the lecture waiting for both of you, so the time was running short – and he had a big problem to solve before going back.
You felt languid, too relaxed. Maybe you had overdone it with the dose of Heeseung that had seeped into your system, leaving your body in a state of calm you hadn't expected, but you didn’t regret it for a second. 
Now you would have to hope you had an extra pair of underwear tucked somewhere in your bag and pray for a little jolt to snap you back into reality, to remind you that your soul hadn’t been completely drained by Heeseung’s skilled fingers.
Speaking of which, Heeseung was dotting your neck and face with gentle kisses, patiently waiting for you to regain some semblance of consciousness, to come back down from wherever you had just floated off to. The sound of a notification on your phone, however, was enough to drag you back immediately.
You startled, almost leaping off the counter in a frantic search for your phone, your hands fumbling until they finally brushed against it behind you. Your heart raced so loudly you swore it might burst from your chest.
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you read the message from the principal calling you backstage.
Meanwhile, Heeseung continued his affectionate attack on your neck, like a needy little kitten, completely unaware of the devious plan that had just been planted in your head; he was hard, and now, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. A wicked, almost mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you typed a quick reply.
“Hee,” you said, pushing him gently away from you by his chest. But he wasn’t ready to let go. “Hee, listen to me. I have to go.”
“Huh?” He leaned back only to look at you, his large eyes brimming with desperation, though now confusion started to creep in.
“Yeah,” you showed him the message, watching how his gaze flicked rapidly over the words. You couldn’t help but notice – and enjoy – the way his expression shifted: first, confusion, then realization that you weren’t about to stay and finish what he so desperately wanted, and, to close it all, a flawless culmination of his state, expressing a combination of both desperation and frustration in equal measure.
His lips were swollen and slightly parted, he was just as breathless as you and it was an amusing vision, because you didn't even do anything to leave him like that. Your noises and reactions, and the feeling of your clenching pussy around his thick fingers were more than enough, apparently; being aware of that fact made a warm, comforting sensation rise in your chest, almost as if your self-confidence depended solely on it at that moment. It inflated your ego in the bestest way.
Before jumping out of the counter, you settled his messy, disheveled strands caused by your early fidgety hands.
“But what about... Me?” He finally asked with puckered lips, pleading eyes and a soft, nearly helpless expression. You almost folded. Almost.
With a final touch by adjusting his blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles that would give away your small adventure, you smiled. 
“Behave.”
Heeseung watched in pure astonishment as you removed your panties completely, folding it into a small ball and throwing it into the trash. Then, you cleaned yourself quickly, washing your hands, acting as if nothing had happened. 
His body refused to move due to his dumbfounded state. You weren’t that devil, were you?
Turning on your heels with the biggest smile ever, you searched for his lips to give it a small peck, “Behave and I'll reward you later,” and just like that, you patted his head and winked.
“But–”
“Be a good boy, Heeseung,” you instantly cut any possibility of disagreement, holding his face in place to keep eye contact. “Can you do that for me?”
Unseen by you, his dick twitched inside his slacks. He gulped down the urge to lock you into that bathroom and fuck your mouth, because the idea of having his body used by you later was far better. 
“Yes.”
Though you had grinned at his whispered answer, your squinted your eyes gave away you were waiting for something more. Heeseung felt blood rushing towards his face, his cheeks with a faint blush, burning, as his gaze flickered away when he replied properly.
“Yes, I can be your good boy.”
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You had never been the type to break promises. Not even the smallest, most trivial ones, and especially not the ones left unspoken. If you promised something – whether directly or not – you would follow through, no matter what.
And what cost was there in giving pleasure to your current… boyfriend?
It all happened so quickly. You and Heeseung delivered the presentation and it went flawlessly; the thunderous applause that filled the room was a clear answer to any lingering doubts in the air.
He did well, despite the painful erection he had been fighting with moments leading up to the presentation – thankfully, thinking of repulsive things had helped him relax and soften his shaft, otherwise, the embarrassment of standing there, hard in front of a room full of students, would’ve been irreparable.
Especially after you made sure to point out, indirectly, that you hadn’t found any spare underwear in your bag or car, suggesting, well, that Heeseung’s prize was tantalizingly close.
Every second you spent together during that presentation, Heeseung had to fight the fire of desire building low in his stomach, praying his loose pants wouldn’t betray him with the growing evidence of his arousal.
Then, you both left, your only task for the day completed, which led to Heeseung arriving at your bed much earlier than expected. The need to have you was much stronger than the plan to go out and celebrate the success of the presentation. He didn’t want to celebrate with food or drinks; he wanted to devour you.
And so, kissing you feverishly from the elevator to your room, he asked you to be his girlfriend.
“Will you be my girlfriend? Please?”
It was a rushed, spontaneous request, made amidst a kiss just as frantic and intense. It made you stop for a brief moment, shocked, your breath ragged and your eyes wide with more emotion than words could capture.
Apparently, all it took to win him over was edging him. And, well, of fucking course you said yes.
So now you had your lips wrapped around Heeseung’s dick as if they were made to be there, tailor-made to envelop him with mastery and desire, the same desire that compelled you to bob your head up and down slowly, lingering deliberately and with intent on the head.
The tip of your tongue played with its slit, the sensitivity of the area stirring a guttural moan from Heeseung who couldn’t hold longer in the silence; he barely noticed he was holding his breath so far, releasing it among a shaked trail of pleas for you not to stop.
“You feel so good,” he breathed, rolling his eyes when your throat met his tip, at the same time your nose made contact with his pelvis. He winced and stuttered a curse, hands clutching the already messy sheets beneath. “F–Fuck…”
The most thrilling part was that Heeseung had no idea that this wasn’t even the prize he had earned for his good behavior. Of course, what could possibly be a better reward for hours of unintentional edging? Well…
Hidden beneath your dedication to giving a truly memorable head was the curve of a wicked smile, one that concealed every sinful, far-from-innocent thought that had spun through your mind all day. 
If two hours of self-restraint had been torture for Heeseung, then for you, the real challenge had been thinking of anything other than the countless ways you could unravel him, the infinite methods you could use to push him past the edge of sanity. Fuck… Just the thought of it had your heart racing and your stomach twisting in excitement, not to mention the throb in your bare cunt – you got rid of both your clothes the moment you crossed the room’s door. 
In a way, you were grateful that Heeseung was struggling to keep his eyes open, avoiding your gaze altogether, because if he dared to look he would see right through you. He would catch the teasing glint in your eyes, the sheer amusement at how effortlessly you had him at your mercy and the uncountable devious ideas crossing your head. 
But then, there was a moment, a fleeting second when he was reckless enough to glance down at you. Little did he know you had been watching him the entire time, your focus never once wavering since your lips wrapped around his leaking length. You were drinking in every micro-expression, every twitch of his muscles, every tremor in his breath, the way his brows knitted together as pleasure consumed him.
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that…” He groaned, voice strained.
The position had changed a few seconds ago, now with a hand gripping tightly the base of his shaft and massaging the part your mouth couldn’t take, as you focused solely on his sensitive head. The other hand rested dangerously close to his balls.
With a wet pop, you let him slip from your mouth just long enough to speak, your fingers never pausing as they jerked him off. “Or else…?” You trailed off, the mischief in your voice unmistakable.
His eyes flickered with hesitation, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had no “or else” to offer. He wouldn’t do anything. He would take whatever you gave him without question, without resistance.
There were no agreed-upon punishments, no threats looming over him. But after what you had done to him in the bathroom earlier, he already knew just how far you were willing to push him, how cruelly you could toy with him if you wanted to – and, damn, he would be down to anything if it involved you.
He swallowed thickly, voice faltering as your fingers cupped around his tip, your wrist twisting in slow, deliberate circular motions.
“O–or else nothing, b–baby,” he stammered, his body trembling under your touch. His breath started to rag with a certain constancy, pitch climbing higher as his resolve shattered completely. “N–Nothing at all. I’m all yours, right? Do whatever you wan–” He had to stop himself, since you thought it would be the right time to toy with his balls. The rough moan echoed through your interior like a visceral energy straight to your pussy, stirring it to clench, your arousal growing. “Fuck!”
It was such a beautiful view; Heeseung threw his head back and clutched his eyes close, back arching involuntarily within a sudden jolt, and his legs, once softly idling on the bed, now squirmed as you didn’t stop, never once, none of your movements, silently pressing the orgasm you knew it was close. 
Your piercing gaze zeroed on his trembling form, the way his lips fell open and how his Adam’s apple bobbed with the failed attempts to gulp his saliva; you could see it trailing down from the corner of his lips, his tongue struggling to gather it back on his mouth.
“So beautiful, Hee,” you whispered loud enough to make yourself heard, basking in the sight of Heeseung slowly falling apart.
And that was the last thing you said before taking his dick in your mouth again, deepthroating instantly and provocatively making swallowing motions, which pressed the very tip and elicited another guttural-high pitched whimper, sounds you had never heard coming from him before.
Heeseung was seeing stars, for sure. His eyes could barely stay open, yet they still rolled back as everything you were doing drove him absolutely wild. It wasn't just sensitivity or neediness; you were touching him in such a specific way that left no room for anything else, no space for coherent thoughts or self-control.
He could feel his body slowly unraveling, but not in a painful way. It was strange, like all his energy was being funneled entirely into the place where your mouth was consuming him. The rhythm of your tongue around him was hypnotic, but every time he tried to focus on how incredible it felt to have you taking him in, your hand playing with his balls distracted him completely. He had no idea what to do, how to react, or what the hell was going on in his mind anymore.
Only a few seconds into it and his entire body shuddered, his warning filling the room nearly at the same time as the warm stream cascaded down your throat, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. ‘M cumming…”
You swallowed Heeseung’s release as if you were parched, drinking it down like water, which accidentally overstimulated his spent cock through his high. Not a single drop escaped your hungry lips, cleaning him almost completely before you detached your mouth from it.
Heeseung trembled beneath your touch, the aftershocks rippling through his body in such a ridiculously captivating way that you could have admired it for hours without tiring. His lightly bronzed chest was now flushed in a lovely shade of red, coated in sweat from the heat of desire that had enveloped the room. In that moment, your gaze shifted to your next... target. The owner of it being entirely unaware of the mischief brewing in your mind.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you took a moment to steady your breath before continuing with your plan. You shifted up just enough to reach Heeseung’s swollen lips, his face still contorted in a look that could only be described as pleasure, but relaxed, as if he were sinking into the sensation.
His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his body still quivering as your fingertips traced the outlines of his collarbones, studying him with the kind of admiration you reserved for someone who didn’t know what he had just experienced.
“Hey,” you called softly, caressing his cheek tenderly as though you wanted to make sure he was okay. 
Heeseung fluttered his eyes open, the tiredness of them exposing how affected he was. You wavered about continuing with your ideas, but with the smirk he showed you and the way his gaze flickered lazily to your lips as if asking for you to continue it was the green light you needed.
So you captured his lips with yours, starting a kiss that was both passionate and affectionate. It was, somehow, an aftercare; one you would give even not having the need to. And Heeseung was more than receptive to kiss you.
It was oddly addictive, the mingled taste of you and himself, the bittersweetness melting across his tongue, igniting each particle of his body to move along with you. One hand slid instinctively to the back of your head, his fingers carefully threading through your hair as he held you in place, gently yet firmly pulling you closer.
Heeseung quivered when your fingertips started to move innocently down, not paying enough attention to it, until they touched his, now, softening shaft. 
He tried to break the kiss to complain, to alert that he was still sensitive from the previous orgasm and you would have to wait a few more seconds, maybe minutes, so he could get hard again; he definitely wouldn’t mind another round. But you only moved further, pressing yourself into his lips, shutting any possibility of him letting you know he was slightly in pain.
“Y/N–” “Shh,” a shush was enough to leave him speechless, especially because your hand kept its exploration, now settling into a languish pace of moving up and down along his length.
“S–Stop…” Heeseung, once again, tried to part the kiss to plead. This time, you leaned back only enough to search for his eyes. They were wide in alarm. 
“Do you want me to stop, baby?” 
Your voice had taken on a specific rasp, clearly affected by the pressure you had previously exerted on your throat. But that was worse for Heeseung’s state, because you still shaped it to sound sultry, almost seductive. It was pathetic how he responded to your every stimulus, in all its varying intensities and nuances.
“It’s burning,” he whispered softly, not wanting to disappoint you in any way. You had already tried overstimulation before, so this was a sensation and dialogue he was familiar with.
You cooed, “Yeah? Is it?” Your tone, feigned concern, was completely overshadowed by the mocking edge beneath it. It was almost comical, but Heeseung loved it.
And then, a soft moan escaped him. He was getting hard again, which only spurred your hand to move faster, causing him to hiss.
“Uhm…”
The last time you had tried this, he had done exactly what he had just done: his hand had moved to grasp your wrist, but he didn’t exert any force to pull it away. It seemed more like a desperate attempt to hold on to something, almost as if he were clinging to his sanity.
The naughty grin that curled your lips only revealed how much you were enjoying watching him like this, eyes blinking rapidly, unsure whether to stay focused on the slight sting of discomfort, or to surrender to the imminent pleasure.
“But that wasn’t my question, was it?”
“N-No,” he shook his head, his voice shaky. “It wasn’t.”
You gave him a moment to respond, almost considering asking again just for the sake of it, but it seemed much more satisfying to use his lack of a correct answer as a small “punishment”, so your lips trailed down, leaving a path of warmth and chills through your way until they encircled Heeseung’s nipple, but not giving the entire touch; it was just a test of waters, just to drag out any reaction aiming to guide your following decisions, as you peppered soft kisses near the area and read his body response.
Heeseung’s breath hitched with the proximity of your mouth to his sensitive buds, his eyes fluttering shut and a small frown pressing his forehead to contort. Yet, his silence was heavy.
You raised your gaze ever so slightly to catch a glimpse, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized he might be into it, though he seemed to be trying to hide his blatant reactions; your hand on his cock now slowing to an almost full stop.
With that, you decided to wrap your lips around his nipple again, this time shortening the distance to flicker your tongue a few times right on the hardened tip, and the answer was immediate and modestly unexpected. 
“Oh, shit!” Heeseung nearly screamed, body jolting abruptly as a sharp spasm overtook his nerves. The coil in his stomach tightened, twisting further with each passing second you continued to play with your tongue.
Now absolutely certain of the pleasure you were causing, every whimper that fell from his lips was a delicious incentive for you to keep going, alternating between wet, noisy sucks and flattening your tongue to rub it along the bruised bud, your saliva coating his chest.
“Ngh, damn, fuck–” Heeseung exhaled shakily, unable to comprehend anything other than the crescent blissful thrill in his body, the temperature rising considerably due to your effort to make him go insane.
He was sure you wanted to make him go insane.
Blindly, you went back to grab his already very hard dick to give it some attention again, and the combo of everything you were doing to his body was more than enough for him to come undone in your hands.
“Babe, oh my god– Please–” He urged. “Don’t stop…” His voice was almost a broken whisper, but the pleading tone was clear, like a fragile thread that he hoped would keep him tethered to reality.
You giggled, continuing your work on his sensitive nipples, nibbling softly and then brushing your tongue to soothe any pain. 
“Please…” Heeseung’s voice cracked slightly, the desperation seeping through within pathetic moans, as his fingers gripped your wrist tightly.
“Aw,” you cooed, lips curling into a devilish smirk. You kissed his nipple a few times before letting go of it. “You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart?”
“Please.”
The word fell from his lips again similar to a mantra, his entire body trembling under your touch, yearning for more but unsure if he could handle it. A small giggle escaped you. “Is that all you can say, my love? Please?”
You repositioned your body to sit on your knees by his side, one hand focused solely on jerking him off, while the other rested on his chest, until you decided to flicker your finger on one of his nipples. 
“Aw, so sensitive, aren’t you?” You murmured with amusement, your voice soft yet dripping with teasing.
He was already leaking heavily, and when he started to whimper, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist that had been touching his chest, pushing it further into him, as if urging you to continue, you could feel how dangerously close he was to the edge again.
“Oh my God, oh my God…” His words came out as breathy nonsense, barely coherent, his hips instinctively grinding against you, seeking more friction. He was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by it all.
Heeseung's chest rose and fell with a desperate pace as he fought to catch his breath, each exhale shaking. His skin was flushed, a deep, beautiful shade of red coated in a thin sheen of sweat that caught the dim light of the room, making him glow with every movement.
Amidst pleas, blended with delectable whines of your name, there was a heavy desperation underlying beneath the whole surface he was showing you. 
He sounded dumb. 
He teetered the edge of madness, your touches weighting tons along his spent length; the nearly purple tip was nothing but pure perfection for your eyes, painfully hard still, because behind his despair there was the actual need to be there, to please you with by offering his own pleasure, to be your good boy.
And you wanted to make sure he understood it.
“You’re such a good boy, Hee.”
And as if your words snapped the bliss away from him, only to drift strongly back with a much intense force, the fierce orgasm built for the last minutes burst out through thick ropes upwards, landing perfectly on the very end of his tummy, on the sheets and on your hand. Thinking ahead, you used some of his release to lubricate what would soon become your seat.
Heeseung was fucking breathless, not sure if he was still alive but definitely pleasured. However, before he could regain full consciousness of his body, you were already straddling over, aligning your needy pussy, aching for some relief, already dripping in arousal, to be fulfilled by his dick, though it needed some rest before anything else. 
His eyes flew open as he held your hips in place, preventing you from sinking into the very sensitive extension of his cock. He would probably lift his torso as well, but he was too tired to even try, so his persuasion game was reduced to merely the plea in his gaze and the obvious tiredness of his breathing.  
“I already came so much,” Heeseung murmured, his bambi-eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t think I can…” His eyes darted briefly to your pussy, and the view of it painfully asking to be filled to the brim had him tweaking.
Once again: it was pathetic how devoted for you – and your body – Heeseung was. 
“Oh?” You pouted, cocking your head to the side with feigned sadness. “But I didn’t come, though?”
“Can you wait just a little?” 
You carefully observed the genuine tone laced in his voice as he made his request. There was a desire to continue behind his words, but he had asked only for a brief moment of pause. You could wait for as long as it took if it meant fulfilling his wish and not pushing further his boundaries. 
So you nodded, rising from your position to grab a water bottle from the nightstand. It was difficult to ignore just how wet the inside of your thighs had become or how the slightest friction on your clit only heightened your arousal.
“Here, baby,” you handed him the water bottle, watching the charming Adam's apple move with each swallow. It was definitely one of your favorite features of his. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you gently caressed his sweaty face, brushing away the strands of hair that clung to his forehead. “You did so well today.”
Heeseung wasn’t naive, he could sense the undertone of “farewell” in your voice, almost as if you were ready to end the moment without a second thought. Yet, for him, that would have been a huge problem.
You hadn't reached your climax.
Finishing the water, he silently thanked you, and before you could stand up he stopped you, cupping your hand on his face with his own.
“But I’m– I’m your good boy, right?” His wide, shining eyes blinked up at you, the innocence in them belying the desire to be praised, laid bare behind those expressive orbs.
His words left you momentarily disoriented. Honestly, you had been willing to take care of your own needs alone, and there would have been no issue with that. But Heeseung was clearly eager for more, and the sight of him rubbing his cheek against your warm palm was more than enough to reignite the spark in you.
“You are,” you nodded again, lowering yourself just enough to kiss his soft, flushed lips. “My good boy,” you whispered against them, your words carrying a promise – a silent vow of how grateful you were to have him with you. Then, you pulled back, returning to your previous position.
Heeseung watched you with both curious and excited eyes, watching how you climbed on top of him, reoccupying the earlier position just to sit directly on his sensitive length. His abs clenched with the immediate and unwarned touch, his back curving forward while his hands flew to grab your waist.
You smirked, though it showed more than just raw desire; it had, lying underneath, the very affection that warmed your chest by knowing Heeseung would be down to anything with you. He let out another groan when you started to move back and forth ever so slightly to coat your own arousal around his cock and lubricate once more.
Also, it helped to make him hard again, and it was obvious how easily sensitive he was once you felt the stiffness growing beneath you.
“There you go,” you murmured cheekily, adjusting your height only to align Heeseung’s dick in your pulsing hole, not waiting a second as you felt it filling you. It was your time to choke a moan.
Your body relaxed almost completely to welcome him inside, leaning slightly forward as the overwhelming sensation of finally being filled with friction surged through you. You were just as eager as he was, and soon enough, your movements started without hesitation.
His touch lingered in the exact spot he once held you, and you had positioned yourself on the right angle so you could feel your clit rubbing against his pelvis, only deepening, urging, your pleasure.
With Heeseung’s length dragging across your tight, sensitive walls, it was undeniable your growing desire to finally cum, and with that you searched for the right pace to please both of you. Your eyes were closed as you focused on moving your hips in a steady motion.
On the back of your thoughts, however, there were the beautiful whimpers Heeseung was letting out, as he felt the third orgasm of the day building up too quickly. 
And you noticed, of course; you could feel him leaking in you. And… You couldn’t hide or prevent your teasing side to show up, so you asked, your mouth whispering moans and his name, but also having a grin that made you too lustful to look at.
“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?” 
You slowed your pace deliberately, watching Heeseung’s body react. A sharp gasp left his lips, his chest heaving, but no answer followed.
“Heeseung,” you called his name again, voice soft yet commanding, hoping to anchor his mind back to you, to keep him tethered amidst the pleasure clouding his thoughts. You purposely clenched. “Can you give me one more?”
A strangled noise caught in his throat, and his hips jerked up instinctively, chasing the friction he was so desperately losing. “Nnngh, fuck!” He was a writhing mess beneath you, legs trembling, unable to stay still as he practically fucked himself into you, searching for the sensation that had him spiraling. A quiet sob echoed from his lips.
“Babe, I won’t move until you answer,” you murmured, slowing your hips until they stilled completely. “I need your words.”
“Ah–no! Please, please, don’t…” His voice broke into a whimper, his entire body shuddering with the withdrawal of pleasure.
A burning sensation coiled deep inside him, pleasure and frustration mixing into something unbearable. His hands clutched desperately at your flesh, definitely marking the extension; his lips parted as he let out a shaking breath, his body twitching for any form of relief.
“Please…” The plea left him again, raw and unfiltered, but even he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for. For you to move again? For you to let him fall apart? For you to ruin him?
Your gaze flickered up, catching sight of his tear-streaked cheeks. His big, round eyes fluttered between half-lidded and tightly shut, brows furrowed in pure, pathetic desperation. His lips, swollen and parted, trembled slightly, whether from the overwhelming sensation or from how hard he had been biting them, you weren’t sure.
Then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Heeseung finally looked at you. You smiled at him, something soft, something appreciative, as if silently letting him know just how much you adored seeing him like this, completely unraveling in your hands.
But you wanted something. Something simple. Something so easy. Just his words.
“Hee…” Your tone turned warning, coaxing. “Words. Need your words, yeah?”
It was like a switch flipped inside him, acknowledging you would easily stop and leave him without his release, frustrated and helpless. His breath hitched, and then his entire body jolted like a shockwave had run through him, with his eyes flying open and his back arching as a frantic urgency flooded his tone.
“Yes! Yes, fuck–yes! I can give you–” His words cut off in a choked moan as you tightened your clenching, circling your hips in slow, deliberate motion. His fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling as his brain melted into pleasure.
But then you stopped. His whine was downright pathetic.
“Another,” he rushed out, panting, the desperation laced thick in his voice. “I can. I can give you another.”
A slow smirk tugged at your lips, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you leaned forward, already going back to roll your hips.
“Good boy, Hee.”
Due to the proximity of your mouths, you even tried to initiate a kiss, but it quickly turned messy, chaotic even, though your lips didn’t fully part. You both moaned into each other, breaths, sounds, and whispered desires blending into the creaking of the bed that shifted slightly under your relentless movements.
There was a deafening determination in the way you grinded against him, fast enough to give you pleasure and leave Heeseung completely broken.
And then, silence. At least, on his part. You tried to open your eyes to meet his, and through the blur, you caught a glimpse of his lips slightly parted, breathless, his eyes shut in the intensity of the moment.
Fully committed, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line, feeling the familiar tightness in your core signaling your impending climax. You also managed to get his dick brushing against your most sensitive spot, propelling you faster towards the edge.
Suddenly, Heeseung gasped for air and moaned loudly, filling you with his release, the pressure inside you intensifying. It was different from all the other reactions, and it would definitely stay with you. 
He was gorgeous, his neck completely exposed and glistening with sweat, his body trembling as he gasped and moaned beneath you. And, finally, with one last powerful movement, you reached your own peak, your body shaking in the aftermath, clinging to him as your world spun with the intensity of it all.
Heeseung, still a little lost in the moment, hugged you back. There were no words needed to express that this had been a significant moment for both of you, a journey through uncharted paths, where you respected each other’s desires and understood your own limits, while still daring to push beyond them a little.
It felt different and fulfilling to be with someone like that, your thoughts syncing in unspoken understanding. And that simple embrace, though messy and sweaty from your shared experience, was more than enough to mark the beginning of something new.
A new chapter.
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gyaruhana · 1 month ago
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hiii i have a request for gwinam ^_^ - maybe something when he is walking in the school after being bitten and he finds reader, who is a ver shy & overvall cutesy person, and gwinam has had a crush on her for a very long timee ,, maybe him founding her leading to a confession and then it gets spicy ??
take ur time !! 🎀 (dont mind it if u take the request and turn it into headcanons, i know u are just writing like that rn :33)
Yoon Gwi-Nam - Shy!reader (detailed) headcannons
Synopsis: gwinam with a shy reader (me core)..
A/N: i love him so much he will return in season two trust !! this is not proof read for the record..
Warnings: smut content, it's yoon gwinam (actually he's sort of soft i'm ngl)
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➠ Gwinam very much felt like God given his current situation. He was bitten by zombies after Cheongsan had the guts to both gouge his eye out and push him off the bookcase into the hoard of zombies but Gwinam had survived. He was convinced that it was destiny. That he was given the gift of immunity so he could carry out what he believed to be his sole purpose: revenge on Cheongsan.
➠ At least, that was what he had believed to be his reason for surviving. Until he caught a very familiar scent. Being bitten by zombies had given him enhanced strength, enhanced vision- enhanced everything really. But it most importantly gave him an amazing sense of smell. He could smell the light, lingering scent of perfume and he knew exactly who it belonged to.
➠ You. Pretty and adorable you. Far before the apocalypse had occurred, he had formed a crush on you. You were shy and there was something so endearing about your nervous behavior that had him desperate for you. He was very aware of the fact that his feelings may not be reciprocated because, well, he was the total opposite of you and quite violent but now, with every other student being living corpses and no one for you to turn to, it's only logical you'd depend on him, right?
➠ A smirk settled on his face at the idea of having you utterly dependent on him. Now, he had two reasons for survival. One: Kill Cheongsan, and two: have you all to himself. With your scent clouding all his senses, he pushed Cheongsan to the back of his mind and set out to find which classroom you must be hiding in. He was sure that if he swooped in like a knight in shining armor, you'd immediately fall in love with him and live a sweet happy ever after.
➠ When he stumbled across the room you were hiding in, he came face to face with a very scared you. He could hear how fast your heart was racing and you quiet sniffles - a clear indicator you were (or at least had been) crying. The sound of your fear drove him mad for all the wrong reasons. He had already promised himself to never let anything happen to your sweet and innocent face so you could stay happy and that promise especially applied to the current problem.
➠ Without another word, he slammed the door open and walked in, an action that made you flinch as you quickly stood up. You had assumed a zombie had somehow forced it's way in but, when you looked at the source, you couldn't exactly tell. He didn't look like a rotting corpse but there was a lot of blood on him that gave you the feeling he wasn't exactly human either.
➠ He shut the door behind him to ensure no zombie could follow after him and eat your pretty flesh. After all, he didn't want you to die now that he found you. You'd be useless as a zombie and he'd rather not have to leave your rotting corpse behind.
➠ "What's wrong? You look a little scared," he spoke with a slight smirk. He found your fear slightly amusing now since he knew you'd absolutely be fine with him around to protect you. He'd be damned if he let you die in this hell hole.
➠ The surprise on your face when he finally talked was enough to make him laugh. He found your evident confusion amusing and he watched your eyes look him up and down several times as you assessed his condition.
➠ As if realizing he looked less than decent, he quickly raised a hand and wiped the blood around his mouth away and onto the sleeve of the white jacket he had stolen. He wasn't trying to scare you away from him, just scare you toward him but the blood on his face certainly wouldn't help him at all.
➠ "W-what happened to you..?" You questioned nervously as you made no move to get closer. He didn't want to be entirely honest because he could only assume you'd run if you realized he had already been bitten several times. It'd be better to lie to you for now so he could get close to you and make sure you don't escape him.
➠ "Nothing. Just got in a fight with another student," he responds as he slowly starts walking closer to you. Of course, you seemed skeptical of his words but he wasn't lying - he was just hiding certain parts of the story.
➠ It was quiet for a few seconds before you seemed to relax in his presence, believing his slight lie. He was slightly taken aback when you immediately walked over to him and pulled his face down to investigate his injury. The way your eyes scanned over his wounded eye made him feel something very new. A different warm feeling in his heart.
➠ "I don't really know much about health and injuries but maybe your eye could get infected if you don't treat it soon," you speak with a sheepish smile before pulling back a little. Your genuine concern for him was so adorable given what type of person was. He definitely didn't deserve your kindness but he took it anyway because he was greedy for you.
➠ "There might be a medkit in here," you speak as you make a move to turn away to search the room. Gwinam doesn't let you get far though and quickly grabs your hand to pull you back. "It's fine, it doesn't hurt or anything. I'm used to it," he speaks as he looks down at your concerned face.
➠ God, you were the cutest thing to him. Your big eyes, you're pretty eyelashes, the way your lips were in a slight pout because you were oh so concerned for him. Not to mention how you were noticeably smaller than him. God, every inch of you was perfect - utterly adorable.
➠ "Are you sure?" You ask curiously and he smirked as a thought crossed his mind at your words. "Well, there is one issue," he spoke as he looked down at you. Of course, your curiosity was peaked so you immediately questioned what the issue was - hoping to help him fix it.
➠ "I lied when I said it doesn't hurt. It does. I think I need someone to kiss it better," he says, his smirk only growing wider. His words pushed you into a stunned silence before you looked away and awkwardly smiled with a slight blush. Your reaction to his words only fueled his confidence as he pushed you to do it.
➠ Miraculously, he had actually managed to convince you despite how shy you seemed about the whole situation. He watched as you stood on your tippy toes and leaned closer. It was an adorable sight, watching you try reach up to give him a quick kiss. He couldn't stop the smile that spread on his face just like he couldn't stop himself from pressing his lips to yours.
➠ To ensure you didn't try pull away, he placed a hand on the back of your head to keep you close as he kissed you. You didn't reciprocate the kiss at first and he knew he'd have to coax you into it. He knew you were probably freaking out internally and far too shy to return his forward action.
➠ After what was a very long kiss, he pulled away with a smirk before licking his lips. "You're so tense. It's just me. Unless.. you don't want to kiss me?" he says teasingly. He can see the look on your face and, god, he'd love to still have his phone right about now so he could take a photo and capture it forever.
➠ If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't exactly against the kiss. You had seen him around school before the outbreak and you had heard of his tendency to bully students but you felt so drawn towards him. You couldn't help yourself - especially when he made it a point to stare at you from afar or brush his hand against yours when walking past in the hallway. He had really wormed his way into your heart.
➠ He stayed quiet for a few moments, letting you process what just happened before he leaned down and kissed you again. This time you reciprocated, more in tune with how you felt, and he was a little too pleased about that. He couldn't help himself when he started to kiss you with more passion before pulling away and trailing messy kisses down your neck and throat.
➠ It didn't take long before he had his cock inside you, pounding away at you with a bundle of grunts and groans leaving his mouth. He had you pressed against the wall, his hands on your thighs as he held you up and fucked his cock up into you. You felt so perfect around him - like you were made for his cock and it was driving him crazy.
➠ Every cry and moan and whimper that escaped your mouth drove him to use more force. He wanted you to cum on his cock. He wanted to fill you with his own cum too. He wanted to claim you and keep you as his forever. Not like you had anywhere else to go, Gwinam had decided that nobody would have you like this except for him. He'd be the only one allowed near you - allowed access to your perfect, tight hole.
➠ As he neared closer to the edge of what was sure to be his best release, he opted for a new position. He quickly moved you to the floor and pinned you down before practically folding you in half and thrusting fast and hard once again.
➠ The new position helped him to reach even deeper and he could feel your walls tighten around him, a clear sign you'd cum all over his cock soon. God, he couldn't wait to watch you come undone. He wanted to make you scream even if it caused every zombie within the school to run towards the classroom. Not like they could lay a finger on you anyway. He'd be damned if he let some corpse kill you now when he finally got his dick wet with your cum.
➠ The moment you do cum, he's cumming with you and neither of you were quiet about it. You both let out a loud moan as he continued to thrust inside of you as he orgasmed. "You're so fucking tight, fuck!" Gwinam cursed out as his thrusts slowed before eventually coming to a stop. He made no move to pull out though, wanting to make sure his seed stays inside of you.
➠ The classroom went quiet as the only sounds were the heavy breaths of both you and Gwinam. He had never felt so amazing in his life and now he knew for sure you were perfect for him.
─── "I'm never letting you go, you hear? I'm going to fuck your tight hole everyday now and make you my pretty doll,"
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midnighvtm4ss · 2 months ago
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Oh you sweet, poisonous thing
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summary: just Arthur yearning and being jealous of reader and Javier. Enjoy😽
pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader
content: fluff, jealousy, a hint of angst maybe ?? idk
wc: 1,8k
a/n: *taps into the mic* heyy,,, how y’all doing *voice echoes, crickets can be heard in the distance* so i kinda disappeared from tumblr ik. I went through a rough period and I thought a lot about what to do with this account. I lost all motivation to write for a while ngl, but after some thinking i decided that no matter what I’ll keep writing and posting here. After all this was and still is my little safe space where i can just forget about my life and post silly things about cowboys sooo yeah have some Arthur yearning because we should bring back yearning in 2025. ok i yapped enough bah byee
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The cracking sound of the campfire travels softly in the center of camp, casting long, flickering shadows that stretch and shift over the familiar faces of the gang, dancing on their features to the sound of the soft music leaving Javier’s guitar.
It had been a rare, uneventful day—the kind where, surprisingly, nothing went wrong, and the world seemed to hold its breath afraid to burst the serene and quiet bubble that engulfed all round the camp. The stillness settled over the gang’s members like a balm, soothing old wounds and lifting everyone’s spirits. By evening, an easy carefree air had taken root, boosted by a few shared drinks and Javier’s guitar.
You sit near the fire, sandwiched between Karen and John, the blonde slouched lazily at your side, her cheeks flushed from the too many whiskey glasses she downed. Javier is in a contagious good mood, sitting on the ground near John strumming another lively tune as he leans toward you, his bronze skin glowing in the campfire’s light and he’s grinning like at you like the charmer he is.
“Why don’t you sing with me, cariño,” he says, his voice playfully teasing. A chorus of groans and exaggerated complaints come from around the campfire, the gang all too eager to tease you about the first and fortunately the last time you sang around the campfire in Horseshoe Overlook after you had too many to drink. You remember waking up the morning after with a terrible headache and the sweet memory of laughter shared around the warmth of the campfire.
You laugh at their reaction, shaking your head. “I think I’ll save everyone’s ears this time, thank you.”
Javier chuckles and with that resumes playing, his voice low and smooth. His energy is infectious, pulling easy smiles and a few soft laughs from everyone. But in the back of your mind, you can feel that there’s a subtle shift in the air—a pull, a presence that tugs at your attention like a ping you can’t ignore. It’s faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grows stronger, undeniable, familiar. You glance toward the edge of camp, and as suspected there he is.
He’s leaning against one of the wooden posts near the horses, half swallowed by the shadows, the dim firelight barely reaching the brim of his worn hat. His broad shoulders are hunched, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he’s trying to protect himself, to keep something away though you’re not sure he even knows what it is. His aqua eyes are sharp even in the shadows, and they’re fixed directly on you.
As the weight of his gaze settles over you like a heavy fog, thick and tangible, despite the distance between you, a shiver runs down your spine. Your chest tightens, as if the very air around him has thickened with unspoken things.
You’ve known him long enough to feel a quiet storm building in the depths of his quiet, unshakable composure. It’s not indifference nor anger. It’s something else—something raw and unspoken but you can’t, and maybe won’t, put a name on it.
When Javier nudges you playfully, you force yourself to focus back on him, offering him a smile that you hope conceals the tension swirling inside of you. Still, the weight of Arthur’s gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as the evening stretches on.
As the night deepens, the fire crackles low. One by one, people begin to drift off, leaving just you, Tilly, Lenny, Javier, and Karen around the fire. Tilly, who had joined your little circle a few hours earlier, is lively chatting with Lenny about some gossip she’d overheard in town, her voice bright with excitement seemingly unphased by the late hour. Meanwhile, Karen has fallen asleep with her head resting on your shoulder, undoubtedly drooling a bit on your blouse. This leaves you and Javier alone, the conversation between you two flowing easily, until he eventually sets his guitar aside with a stretch, breaking the comfortable atmosphere.
“Already going to bed ?” you tease, nudging him gently on the side. “Won’t you play me another song before you go to sleep ?”
He smirks, shaking his head with a wink.
“Tomorrow.” He promises winking at you. He stands up and disappears into the shadows of the night. After a few minutes Karen stirs awake, mumbling something about needing another drink before bed, lazily getting up on her feet, shuffling toward the camp’s supply.
After that it’s just you, Tilly and Lenny sitting near the dying fire. From your peripheral vision you can see the dark silhouette of Arthur sitting at the worn wooden round table under the tall tree in camp. You don’t look at him, not directly, but you feel his presence like a thread pulling between you. You sit there, looking at the fire contemplating if approaching him or calling it a night.
When you finally stand, your feet move before your mind can catch up with your actions. You carefully walk towards him, finding him hunched slightly over the table, his broad shoulders tense as he stares down into the nearly empty glass in his hand.
“Mind if I join you ?” you say pausing a few feet away. The sound of your voice softly filling the cold air around you both.
Arthur doesn’t immediately look up, his focus still fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. You nearly contemplate leaving when after a long moment, he tips his head in a slow, deliberate nod. “Suit yourself.”
You take a seat across from him, your hands folding in your lap playing with a few loose threads as you settle into the quiet. For a long moment, neither of you speak. The noise of the evening has faded away, leaving the camp wrapped in the soft rustle of trees and the distant sound of crickets.
“Tired ?” you finally ask, your voice hesitant, breaking the silence.
Arthur huffs a low breath, his eyes never leaving the glass. “Long day,” he mutters, a simple response that tells you nothing.
You nod, though his answer feels like a wall, a quick, easy way to avoid revealing something deeper. There’s something bothering him, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system or maybe you simply care too much for him but you’re determined to find out what.
“Javier kept everyone entertained tonight,” you say lightly, your words casual, trying to spark a conversation, though you’re watching him closely.
Arthur’s grip on his glass tightens just enough for his knuckles to go pale against the clear glass. “Yeah,” he replies, his tone flat. “He’s good at that.”
The space between you feels heavier now, filled with something unspoken, a tension that neither of you acknowledges directly. You lean back in your chair, letting the silence settle between you, but you can’t ignore the flicker of his eyes as they meet yours, then quickly shift away like he’s afraid of what might show if he stares at yours too long.
“What’re you drinking ?” you ask after a moment, breaking the quiet.
“Whiskey.”
“‘S that the good whiskey Pearson’s been hiding, or the usual watered down crap ?”
Arthur’s lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, clearly fighting a smile. “Usual crap,” he murmurs. “Pearson ain’t that generous.”
You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension that’s built between you. But still, it lingers, just beneath the surface, like something you both know but can’t put into words.
“You seemed quiet tonight,” you say after a pause, studying him closely.
Arthur shrugs, lifting his glass to his lips, the movement slow, as if every motion is carefully measured.
“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”
You watch him, your gaze tracing the line of his jaw, his wet lips and the way his fingers absently trace the rim of his glass. He’s not being completely honest—that much you know, but you’ve learned to read between the spaces of his words.
“Or maybe you just didn’t like the company,” you offer, your tone playful but with an edge to it.
Arthur’s eyes snap to yours, sharp and unmoving. “I didn’t say that,” he replies, his voice low, almost a growl.
He holds your gaze a beat longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of it settle deep in your chest, making your breath hitch. There’s something in his eyes, something raw, vulnerable that makes your heart stutter. You’re not sure if he sees how your composure falters, but he’s the first to look away, tipping his hat lower over his brow to shield his expression.
You’ve always hated when he does that—you’ve always hated the way he uses it to put a distance between you, but now more than ever you hate it because it feels like the wall between you is growing thicker and you’re not sure if you can get through anymore.
“You’re a hard man to figure out Arthur Morgan,” you say softly, the teasing edge gone from your voice. He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it’s in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
You bite your lower lip in frustration but then you force yourself to swallow down your disappointment. The conversation shifts then, moving toward more trivial things like the weather, the horses, Pearson’s latest disaster with the stew. But even as you talk, you know that there’s another conversation happening in the spaces between words, in the glances you exchange, in both your body language, in the way the silence sometimes wraps itself around you both.
You don’t speak of it. You don’t name it. Neither of you can, but you know it’s there.
“Good night Arthur,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. You give him a sweet smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before you stand, the weight of your own tiredness forcing you to seek the sweet embrace of your bed.
He doesn’t reply right away, just gives a slow tip of his hat. “Night.”
As you start to take a few steps away from the table, you feel his gaze on your back—steady, unwavering. It feels like it’s burning into your skin.
You glance over your shoulder, just once, and meet his eyes. For a moment, they’re distant, almost lost, like he’s somewhere far away in thought. But as your gaze lingers, you catch something else, something in the way his eyes soften, the barely perceptible softening of his eyebrows. It’s not a look of anger or frustration that he gives you, no, he’s looking at you with something deeper, something raw.
It’s the kind of look that makes your chest tighten, a sweet warmth settling between your ribs. He doesn’t need to say anything, you can feel it in the glance between you—the weight of all the things neither of you will dare to speak aloud.
In that brief moment, you understand. And it’s enough to leave you walking away with butterflies storming in your stomach and the strange sense that you’ve just shared something deep, something fragile with him without ever needing to say a word.
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monarchberrysblog · 2 months ago
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IT’S GETTING STICKY !! 𝒻𝓉. 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝐻𝒶𝓇𝒶 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
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summary: living in an alternate universe where the A/B/O dynamic contributes to societal norms, you ask your werewolf boss to help you through your heat. it can't cause any more problems, right?
tags: afab! reader, slow-burn??, knotting, praising, ruts and heat, possessive and clingy behavior, slick, soft sex, mentions of claws and elongated canines, and biting is mentioned.
author’s note: this fic is primarily for me as this was supposed to be posted for kinktober, but got help back as I had to research this 😭 and this is a super late birthday present for myself ngl—
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The cycles of heats and ruts were meticulously scheduled, a system that you, had come to know. Each month, the 17th stood out boldly, encircled in an obnoxious pink heart drawn with a highlighter and accentuated by a pink pen. The vivid hue clashed dramatically with the monochrome palette of his stark office, where the muted greys and blacks formed a backdrop as dreary as the paperwork piled high on his desk.
This method of marking is brilliant in its simplicity—nontraceable, yet striking enough to be easily noticed past Miguel’s paperwork. It was a system that worked, a colorful beacon.
But the aroma, no, the stench—it’s hard to drown out.
Let alone ignore.
It was a sweet aroma he adores. That sweet, enticing smell always stirred his stomach. It was enough to make anyone throw up from the smell. But the smell became a familiarity for Miguel. The smell always plagued him, no matter what he uses to remove the smell.
The smell was similar like you: Sticky and stubborn to get rid of.
₊˚⊹ ᰔ
The sickening sound of the bed springs rocking under the additional weight broke the apartment's typical silence. “C’mon, let me slide it in…” He growls against the shell of your ear, his elongated canine nipping at a tiny bit of skin. His hardening cock nudged and nudged, pleading for a form of entry. His words feign harm. He croons meaningless words, slowly rubbing his veiny length against your soft, puffy lips. “It’s not gonna fit” are the only words escaping your lips. The only words. “I’ll make it fit.” He hisses, a throb at the base of his cock, waiting for him to release the knot at his balls.
He looms over you like a shadow, his lips moving from the shell of your ear to your cupid’s bow. A yearn of softness. A plead of physical contact that didn’t involve lust or ruts. You reach up, attempting to sew his lips against yours and to keep him there.
He exhales a heavy groan, his breath sweeping a lost strand of hair away from your face. “Please,” his eyes narrow. The dim lights of your room emphasize the color crimson in his iris. Red mixes with your hazelnut color, a combination of lava and graphite.
“You can do it.” He rasps before gently guiding the head of his tip to your fluttering entrance. His bulbous tip gently moved up and down your slit. A soft groan escapes the back of his throat, the sensation of your walls engulfing him and suffocating him. Even with the diamond shimmer of slick, the rut in his gut nearly suffocated his cock. It was as if a barbed wire was around his shaft, squeezing and probing for release. His hand grasp at his length, squeezing at it before pushing the mushroom-y tip inside. He uses his free hand to grab at your rear, eyeing at the exotic sight of your greedy walls taking him and gripping onto him like a vice.
“I can’t…!” A strained stretch overwhelmed you as his breathing fanned your skin, cooling down the warm and sweat forming at your brow. “Atta girl,” He groans, his hands grasping onto your hips. His fingernails dive into your skin, dribbles of blood seeping out the swell of your skin and rolling down your skin. The noise from the back of his throat escapes as his elongated fangs bared out and made contact between your shoulder and neck. The piercing bite punctures tiny indent holes, some of the bites molding into the skin while three of them seep blood.
“Look at you. You’re taking me so well.” The thrusts were heavy, pushing and demanding before pulling out nearly all the way, leaving his tip in and slamming his length back in with ease. The shouts of his name morph into breathy moans, your hips moving with his at an agonizing slow pace, trying to keep up. He bites his tongue, holding back any snarky remarks.
But a squeeze sends him down to you as he continues with the brutal force, his hips snapping into you like a leather whip. “Do that again, it feels nice.” He croons, his hand reaching to grab your tit instead. You weakly squeeze your walls against his cock with a whine, his hand slapping your squeezed breast. “Don’t tease. Your teasing is torture, mami.” He lets go of your breast and fists at the now torn bedsheets instead. His claws sink into the ripped material, creating more rigid tears into the silky fabric. The inconsistent kegal patterns sent chills down his spine, pleading for him, squeezing him to finish. “There we go.” He paises as your weakened actions barely mirror his desperate, manic motion. You cover your lips with your hands, harsh breathing fanning the pillow case.
“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you, mamas.”
The overstimulation flooded chills down your spine as he sloppily thrusts his tip against your g-spot. The harsh, rapid pressure point pushed down and rubbed, nudging you to the edge of a cliff. To the cliff of an orgasm with a tumble of a slip and slide of slick. “Miguel, ‘m gonna cum.” Your voice is shushed but choked up, at the brink of finishing. His motions were blurred, your field of vision no longer on your pink bedsheets, rather, the white ceiling above you. His hand moves quick, his palms pushing down on your lower stomach. “Go ahead, untie that sensation.” His breath fans your prespired forehead, managing to cool you down temporarily. A pathetic scowl is evident on his lips, your body slowly leaning forward for a kiss, even if it’s a small, pathetic one. The slow motion caught his attention. He furrowed his brows, rumination running rampant in his head.
He brushes his lips against yours, his lips ghosting the tip of your nose. Even though the rapid, needy thrust, the undertone of a soft kiss ghosted your skin before moving down to his desired target. It said “I need you.”
You eagerly reciprocate, sewing your lips onto his, the locking kiss making your head spin. The kiss is intoxicatingly sweet, like poison, sweet as your aroma. Every kiss made him want to consume the sweet, juicy peach-like smell, intoxicating him to ravish more, to have a certain hunger for it.
He slowly pulls away, hesitant to let the kiss come to an end.
He looks down, his eyes tracing down to the two of you, watching himself disappear inside of you. Your eyes move downwards as well, enjoying the sight before you. You bite your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks. The heavy strokes come to an end, the warmth of his cum flooding your fluttering walls. The rut and knots interlinked between the two of you, the blissful high washing down onto your flushed skin.
His once rough and demanding touches transformed into soft, tender caresses that spoke of affection that contradicted his actions from before. He tenderly lifts his hand to cradle your cheek, his skin warm against yours. His thumb glides softly along your skin, applying just enough pressure to draw you closer, igniting a warmth into your skin. The gentleness of his caress contrasts sharply with the past, weaving intimacy into every moment shared. He basks in your softness, wiping away any stray tears if there were there. But really, it was just a pathetic excuse to touch your skin.
“I got you,” He whispers into your flushed skin. “I’ve always got you.”
₊˚⊹ ᰔ
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Tag List:
@miguelhugger2099 @bluesidez @opaloharas @hyjionie @kavimoo @zaunsin @keiva1000
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