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WE ARE SO SO SO THEM TWO!!! care, affection... that's who we are! thank you for being here 🤍

bonus: our other duo!

i will never get tired of saying that i love your stories and the way you write! that heeseung, like, okay i want him NOW. it's so light and amazing, i miss your fics, never stop writing (i will always tell you that) 🥺🫶🏻🩷

⋅ GENRES: established relationship; fluff

⋅ PAIRING: Heeseung x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 1.1K

⋅ WARNINGS: established relationship with Heeseung?! slow dancing with him late at night?! he singing love songs to you?! it’s all valid warnings if you ask me, but aside from these; suggestive content; mentions of alcohol

if you read it a few months ago but with another member — no! you didn’t! you are recalling it wrongly! just kidding, special thanks to everyone who joined the poll and helped me select the main character of this repost ♡

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him.

Barefoot and clumsy, Heeseung loved to dance with you.

The night had fallen into those strange hours when no one could tell if it was really late or really early. The city was silent beyond the opened windows of your living room, allowing Heeseung’s playlist to resonate as if it were the only sound in the entire world.

Along with his laughter, of course.

You looked at him, mind halted in the middle of a sentence you would never finish. You weren’t sure if you had intended to be funny, you knew you were talking, trailing a long line of thoughts but then he laughed, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes in a habit you already knew.

Heeseung’s body had come undone in happiness far too many times throughout the course of your relationship for you to not have it engraved in your heart. But shafts of golden luminescence reached for him tonight, embellishing his skin with a soft glow, and when he straightened himself back to look at you, it made his eyes shine, glinting in errant spheres of gold.

Heeseung was so beautiful beneath all of this — all made in reflections of the city lights and the dim flames of the candles you had lit at some moment at the beginning of the night.

You couldn’t remember making the decision to reach for him, but you must have done it because he took your hand in mid-motion, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist before he brought it up to his lips and kissed it.

“Dance with me,” he said. The question had no question mark, no doubt or uneasiness. Heeseung knew you would never refuse him, but he still waited for you to nod at him before he used your connected hands to pull you up.

You didn’t recognize the song coming from his phone, a fast beat that had him spinning you through the hardwood floor of your living room. His movement caught you so unprepared, it made you laugh loudly, and Heeseung took it as the cue to swirl you again and again, the shirt you had stolen from him moving dangerously around your thighs until he decided to bring you back to him and pull you against his chest.

“Aren’t we being too loud?” you asked.

“If your neighbors file a complaint again, maybe you will take a hint this time and move into mine.”

“You want me there so badly, don’t you?”

“You have no idea love,” he whispered, spreading his hands at the small of your back, and bringing you closer to him. His palms were warm through the thin material of your — his shirt and your heart knocked inside of your chest, so loud you were sure he could feel it echoing through the space between you.

Heeseung’s touches were no novelty to you. He had explored your body far more than anyone would or could — God, he had touched you just a few hours previously, but still there was something about being beneath his attention that would always make you a bit overwhelmed.

The song that came on next was quieter, not lazier, or languid but he leaned in as if you were to slow dance, his cheek resting against the side of your head and allowing you to breathe him in. Heeseung smelled like the woody scent of his perfume, dry imbues, and blackberry leaves — he smelled like the wine he had brought for your picnic and home.

If your heart wasn’t aching already, it did then and there.

“I like this song,” he said. At first, you thought it had been a statement to nobody, but he placed his lips against your ear, and the lyrics threaded through your hair as if the only thing he ever wanted was for you to know it.

“I see my future when I look into your eyes.”

It was nothing extravagant. His voice came a bit low and timid, but it only made your heart ache a little bit more.

“It took your love to make my heart come alive,” Heeseung sang. “Cause’ I lived my life believing all love is blind.”

“But everything about you is telling me this time it’s forever, this time I know, and there’s no doubt in my mind.”

Your hands left the safety of his shoulders to slip up, fingers curling on the hair at his nape, bringing him impossibly closer. Heeseung gasped at your actions, the soft rustle of his breath hitching against your ear as he failed to sing the next lyrics, but he didn’t need to — you already knew them.

You always knew them.

Forever, until my life is through. I’ll be loving you forever.

The song kept going, but Heeseung stopped, drawing back just enough to look at you, his eyes lingering and simply unable to conceal the pure and unfiltered adoration he had for you.

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you, kneeling on the dirty pavement to pick tiny blossoms and put them in your hair. He ordered food past midnight, and laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room to make picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him, barefoot and clumsy, and you would barter it for nothing.

After all, this was how you found forever.

okay, no one doubts that i'm going to fill yuyu's private chat with this fic until it comes out, right? because that's exactly what i'm going to do until she writes this rivals to lovers with heeseung !!!

It was 1930. Korea was under the command of Imperial Japan. As one of the best spies of the resistance, your order was to infiltrate the Imperialists’ troops and report their every step. But to reduce suspicions, your rival Lee Heeseung was designated to be your partner and fake husband. Although you had to admit his cleverness was of some good use, his flirting demeanor was still infuriating, especially when he was too into playing the role of your husband

“I advise you to shut up and do what my wife is saying,” Heeseung said. “She might have this cute pretty face, but her temper is way too short.”

╰ or a historical rivals to lovers with spy!Heeseung that I am never going to work on and am just bothering the tags ♡

i can't get it out of my head that you called me – almost – co-writer! i practically saw this story come to life, and the way you developed every little thing made me SO proud. this is amazing, it's so enjoyable to read and your writing is always so good. how i love being a part of this and always supporting you 🥹🩵

⋅ GENRES: established relationship; fluff & smut

⋅ PAIRING: Jongseong x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 2.7K

⋅ WARNINGS: down bad!Jongseong trying to be rough with you for the first time in bed; a single smack; unprotected sex

special thanks to @ikeuverse, you know this story wouldn’t have come out without you! and also, special thanks to everyone who joined the poll and told me to post it! i hope the final result is worth it ♡

It had been bold of you, that was for certain.

But aside from Jongseong’s whispered jokes of desiring to eat you alive, your boyfriend never had been anything but gentle with you in bed. Kind hands and soft touches, always patient, and always putting you first. Not that it was bad — no, he was the best you ever had. But it had been inevitable for you to not grow curious about what he meant by his eccentric statement.

So you asked.

The soft light of the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over Jongseong’s bedroom as it began its descent below the horizon, patches of rose gold reflecting on his television and making the movie he had put on hard to see — and maybe it had been the reason why he had lost his interest not even twenty minutes into it, his calloused fingers finding that tiny sliver of skin between your skirt and top, coaxing you into his lap until your legs were straddling his hips, knees comfortably digging into his mattress and hands at his shoulders, just as he liked it.

“I thought you wanted to watch the movie,” you said. But Jongseong was already busy, lips finding the base of your neck, trailing the expanse of your throat with soft kisses. And when he noticed that your statement required a reply, it came as an incoherent murmur, a huff of air that got you coiling yourself because it tickled.

He laughed at you then, not meaning to be unkind, but simply and merely amused by you.

“You are so cute. I could eat you alive,” he said, the last word coming as a bite in the air, a playful act that you knew just as much as the conjunct of phrases itself, but still — it made you stop.

Your sex life with Jongseong wasn’t exactly new. You had lost count of the times he had made you come for him. From lazy make-out sessions in the front seat of his car to the hot press of your bodies into the mattress of your bedrooms, he never failed to. It had been months of discovering each other — months of learning how the other liked to be kissed, touched, and even teased. And throughout the course of it, you would be lying if you ever said you hadn’t heard this same conjunct of phrases quite a lot, but never Jongseong had been anything but gentle with you, kind hands and soft touches giving no real indication of what he truly meant by his eccentric statement so it had been inevitable for you to not grow curious.

“Jay?”

“Yes, love?”

“I just-” you started, tongue already rolling into the question, but you felt Jongseong shifting beneath you, leaning himself against his bed’s headboard as he tried to get a better view of you, his eyes searching for yours with so much care — you felt a flush of warmth creeping up to your cheeks and the words stuttered and stammered, turning too shy to leave your mouth in case it ricocheted.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head at his question, hands suddenly too restless to stay promptly at his shoulders, so you concentrated on playing with the sewing of his dark t-shirt, the tip of your fingers pinching at the lines with an attention that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Tell me,” he tried again, his voice coming even softer than before. “You know I don’t like it when you seem bothered.”

“I just — I just got curious about what you mean by it,” you said. “Eating me alive.”

Although you didn’t give yourself enough time to doubt the wisdom of saying it this time, the words came weakly — almost too silent for your own ears, and for a moment you doubted Jongseong had heard it. But then, he stopped, a sharp swallow going into his lungs.

He looked at you as if he was searching for something that told him you were joking — teasing him for being so down for you because that was how your relationship had been built. Yet he could find nothing but a soft embarrassment, so he reached for you then, fingers barely ghosting over your skin, cupping your cheek and curling under your jaw so he could gently tilt you to him. The remaining luminosity turned his eyes lighter, a blend of honey and whisky as his lashes cast shadows over his flushed cheeks, and you felt your heart keening.

You were a fool for thinking Park Jongseong would ever do anything to hurt you.

“Is it what’s bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering,” you said. “I just got curious.”

Jongseong hummed at you, lips twitching into a smile, and when he laughed, eyes slightly closing, you didn’t feel offended. You knew Jongseong all too well to figure it had been solely out of embarrassment.

“Well, it’s just what it sounds like,” he admitted. “You are so cute that sometimes I don’t know what to do. I want to pin you against a wall, turn you over on the bed — be a little mean, you know? Eat you alive.”

“And why- why have you never tried?” you asked.

“Would you want me to?”

“Yes,” you said, cheeks suddenly too warm. “I would want you to.”

His gaze flitted down to your lips, and back up to your eyes. It took him another breath to push the tip of his fingers further through you, cradling the back of your neck and pulling you so close that you did not only hear his next words but felt them against your lips, warm and sweet smelling, caramel and coffee from the frappuccino you had shared early on.

“If you change your mind and feel like stopping, you will have to tell me, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Alright,” he echoed.

Jongseong found your lips as easily as he always did: a pinch against your bottom lip that made you sigh into him, mouth parting, and lips slotting in the same rhythm that never failed to make you melt against him. But the familiarity of the act ended there. Soon enough, he was licking over you, deeper, messier — needier. His thumb pressed on the corner of your mouth, keeping you all open and nice for him, and if it wasn’t enough to make you whine, clutching your hands on his clothes when he shifted beneath you, pressing the solid length of himself against you was.

He cursed when you grind against him, a gasp for air, that made you part away. But Jongseong didn’t do anything to stop you. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hair as he rolled against you too, his pupils flaring as he looked at where your skin met his denim jeans.

His hand left the purchase of your hair only to roam up your sides, taking the hem of your top, lifting it from around your waist, and up through your head. You could swear you felt all the callousness at his hands, the impact of all the time he spent playing with his guitars and you shiver with the roughness.

For a moment, you sat there looking at each other, his hands on your bare back, and then his forehead landed on your collarbone with a gentle thud, drawing the tip of his nose along the swell of your breasts.

“You are so pretty,” he said, and your breath caught like he hadn’t called you that before, but you couldn’t think much about the compliment because Jongseong was already pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it to a solid point, and making your back arch, eyes fluttering to the ceiling. The act alone was so pleasurable that a desperate sound escaped through before you couldn’t even notice it, and he took it as an incentive to move to your other nipple, his tongue drawing a faint line into your chest.

“Jay, I-,” you began, his name coming so breathy and timid. He couldn’t help but groan into you. He never had heard your voice so full of wishes like this. And maybe that was exactly what broke him.

He was really going to eat you alive.

“Bend over for me,” he said, abruptly and all at once letting you go.

You blinked, his words meeting a deadlock between your ears and brain, and it immediately made him chuckle.

“Are you already having second thoughts?” he asked. Condescension dripped from him, words liquid, and sticky. He ran the back of his knuckles down through your cheek, his thumb dragging over your lips before he pushed it at your mouth. It was a mild thing that barely had your lips part for him, but you opened your mouth anyway, allowing him to press the digit against your tongue.

“Bend over,” he tried again, his voice lower this time, demanding. And that’s what made you move, turning on the mattress. Hands and knees pushed to the sheets of his bed. Your skirt gathered at the curve of your hips with your new position, pooling in the cradle there and leaving only your panties to cover you, lacy trims, and a color that contracted way too prettily with your skin.

You couldn’t see Jongseong, couldn’t guess what he was doing, but you felt him moving into the space between your calves, hands promptly finding your hips as his knees pushed at your own, spreading them further before he hummed, an appreciative sound that made you burn.

“So fucking cute,” he said. And you weren’t sure how you could look cute in this position, but you didn’t retort — you couldn’t retort. Jongseong was already grazing a palm down to you, rolling over the bare expanse of the back of your thigh, and when he retreated, it came as a smack.

You sobbed with the act, a perhaps too-hurting sound because Jongseong stopped, palm spreading on you again, but this time caressing the reddish skin.

“Are you alright?” he asked, hushed and sweltering with tenderness. All the teasing suddenly forgotten and turned into concern.

And God, you loved him.

“I am,” you declared, but he didn’t go back to his doings.

“Are you sure?”

“Jay,” you whined.

“Ok, I got you,” he whispered, the words coming more like a tight exhale. “You know I got you.”

“I always do everything you ask me to, don’t I?” he asked, fingers flirting with the laced trim of your panties, and you almost expected him to pull the piece down, over your legs, and to the mattress with no ado. But instead, Jongseong swiped over it, barely there touches that didn’t even part you beneath the cotton, yet it was enough to make you falter, your hands trembling against his sheets.

It was maddening, the soft lilt of his fingers, teasing, gentle, earnest all at once.

You wanted to cry when he pressed a little bit harder, his middle finger nudging up against your entrance and making the cotton grow damp beneath the tip of his fingers, clinging to you and giving him the outline of everything.

You were sure you did cry when he finally pulled your panties aside, slipping a single finger inside and making you clench around him, a tight hold that got him swearing when you moved backward, chasing for more. He pulled you into him, his free hand grabbing at your hips so tightly you were sure he was leaving a mark — you wanted him to leave a mark.

He could tell you weren’t holding back anymore, whines tumbling from your lips when he slid another finger in, pushing it all the way in before he moved it back, skin coming glinting from you.

And his mind slipped away.

He wasn’t sure anymore of what to do anymore, fuck you on his fingers, or turn you around, pull his aching length on you like you both were used to. So he did the easier one. Pushing his fingers in and out, squelching sounds filling the room altogether with your moans.

You could feel your body coiling tighter and tighter around him, and if it was already hard to breathe, he made it almost impossible when he decided to hold onto your neck instead, setting his free hand against your hot skin, thumb stroking down the column of it as his palm curled nicely, tilting your head back so when he leaned on you, his lips met ears.

“See?” he cooed. “I always give what my spoiled baby wants.”

You were sure you gasped his name, eyes fluttering closed as you felt your orgasm crashing through your body, easing it and giving all your weight for Jongseong to take.

He shifted you easily through the mattress, manhandling you back onto his mattress in the bare second you took to open your eyes, blinking at the new light a few times before you could take the image of him moving in between your legs, pushing his fingers into his mouth. His tongue wrapped around it, licking over the pads, and most definitely tasting you. You watched as his chest rumbling with a groan before he let it go with a dirty pop.

Your cheeks grew a tone darker and he knew — he couldn’t last much longer if he kept up with it. Straining in his jeans like a teenager. So he was pulling off his shirt, hands gripping the back of his collar to rip it over his head and join the rest of your clothing. He popped the button of his jeans and slipped it down with his boxers. The sight of him all red and dirty with precum made it impossible for you to not reach for him, but he stopped you mid-motion, fingers curling around your wrist as he brought it above your head and into the mattress.

“Leave everything to me,” Jongseong said, and you were way beyond rational thoughts to retort, doing whatever he wanted and allowing his fingers to curl at your skirt — at the laced trim of your panties, hands almost adoring as he dragged the last clothing down over your legs before his lips were on you again, tongue pressing against yours, and still tasting like you.

You folded your legs around his waist, thighs clenching around him, squeezing him almost unconsciously as he crowded into you, hands reaching towards yours again, quickly interlocking your fingers as he held himself over and into you.

He hissed, looking down between your bodies, eyes glazed as he watched how you fit together, not being able to help but clutch at your fingers.

“You’re so pretty,” he repeated. His voice had dropped that teasing tone once again, sounding so genuine it made your chest ache and you were suddenly back to being desperate as you clutched back into him, fingers twisting almost painfully against each other.

“Are you sure-” he started, but he didn’t need to finish it for you to know. You already had heard the concern in his voice so you only reached for him, pressing a kiss over his mouth, his jaw, catching his birthmark with a tenderness that didn’t match the words that followed.

“Just fuck me, Park Jongseong,” you said, and you weren’t sure if he had laughed, cried, or simply huffed air past his lips, but his hips were suddenly moving with the impatience and greed he had repressed through all those months of whispered teases.

It was fast, messy — dirty slides in and out of you, the sounds of how wet he’d made you filling his bedroom and making him groan a little bit too loud.

He came when you did, as defenseless and relinquished as he could be, pulling away almost as if it broke him to let you go.

When Jongseong collapsed down beside you, reaching out and curling his arms around you, you noticed the last rays of the sun had already disappeared below the horizon, only the white light of the street lamps casting a soft glow on him together with the movie still rolling instead.

“Curiosity ceased?” he asked.

“I am not sure. We might have to try another day for me to give you a concrete reply,” you said. “You haven’t pinned me against a wall still.”

He laughed then, a burst of sound whistling through the room.

“You are so cute,” he said. “I could eat you alive.”

✨ passing to spread some clearance energy cause que caralhos was that? lmao, anyway, I hope you are having a great thursday! ♥️

eu te amo, sis. i just te amo! idk que caralhos was that, but it doesn't shake me. thank you for being here and taking care of me. have a great thursday with us, enjoy and rest up 🩷