el ۶ৎ

This is purposeful. You're being purposeful.

He'd already been dreading the camping trip assigned to his department as a fun, required team building exercise. Drowning in repeated deadlines, endless meetings that could've been an email and enough screen time to worry himself of his vision, this is the last thing he wants to do when everything's said and done. He's been neglecting you too, deep-seated exhaustion coming with work and age that once he trudges through his home's doorway, he wants nothing more than to loosen his tie and pass out. You'd been understanding ─ as you always are ─ noting how sweet it'd be when you'd get to be together again, schedules cleared, devoted to each other like before. 

You had your own life. Settling into life's rhythm after uni, meet-ups with friends planned months in advance, making your shoebox apartment a home, perhaps taking on more than you should at work because it's your first real job. You wanted to do well, seem worth hiring, and it comes at the expense of seeing Heeseung. Of course, you'd call and text and when the stars aligned, spend a rooftop lunch together at Heeseung's work, gentle spring sun soaking into your skin as your smiles get in the way of eating, lunch only halfway eaten before he's due at his desk again. You'd talked, about various things ─ music releases you were anticipating, video games he'd felt shy about still playing, locals spots you'd love to visit once the dust settled.

It's nice. Comfortable. Everything involving you comes with comfort, your smile easy as you stare up at him with something like adoration, casting your head sideways as timidity gnaws at your nape, posing as if you'd been caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

It's a joke co-workers he didn't associate with would make, having seen you around once or twice and drawing their own conclusions. That Heeseung couldn't charm women his own age, so he sought companionship four years his junior. He never indulged, office gossip and politics is never something he bothered partaking in. Why would he, especially over this? When you two were adults making a conscious decision, every step of the way questioned by Heeseung, only to be silenced by the press of your lips, your fingers woven into his hair as you whisper against his lips, 

"Overthinking will age you," you joke, his amused exasperation huffed through his nose, mirrored smiles between your lips. "Then you'll really give them something to talk about." 

Safe to say, you didn't mind. You apparently didn't mind the whispers and stares too, particularly when he'd mentioned the trip, inviting yourself since some colleagues were bringing their partners, a notion seemingly approved by his company. 

Some team-building event. 

"I think I have that weekend free," you mention, scrolling through your calendar to see the empty space over the dates. "Mind if I tag along?"

He'd been in the middle of cooking dinner for two, the rare night you two weren't too exhausted to see each other, especially since he'd finished his latest project. Over the sink, he turns the tap off, ringing the cutlery meant to be used and lets out a breath. Runs the logistics over in his brain, if the benefit of bringing you along is worth the whispers of his colleagues. 

It's a no brainer.

The trip is up North, where mountains scrape the blue sky and woods stretch on for miles, woven in greenery, marked by the hiking boots you track through the rich pecan-coloured soil. Customary of the June weather, sweat trails on the underside of Heeseung's jaw, narrowly missed by the back of his hand, only to venture further, dropping down his collarbone and collecting at its centre. He sighs with a slump, not knowing the trip entails more exercise than his desk job requires, his hands bracing against his knees as he regains his breath.

An abrupt coldness blends into his nape, jolting his spine upwards as his head does a half circle, hearing your giggle before hearing your boots trudge through the boots, stopping right in front of him.

You owned the shortest hiking shorts known to mankind, the flesh of your thighs stretching on further than his overworked heart could take, a forceful turn of his head done every time your limbs stretched to cross more land, the tiniest sliver of forbidden skin seen with a gulp. After the last time he had to finish the hike with a semi, he hadn't not looked since. But it's hard doing so now when you're stood before him, sunkissed skin glittering with sunscreen and a veil of sweat, a slow descent down the middle of your chest, down into the crevice your simple tank top does very little to disguise.

He might die on this trail.

"Have some water," the same water that's migrated to his cheek, smushed against the flesh in a welcome press. You'd left it the cooler longer than intended, chilled before all the ice could melt. Relief sighs out his chest at the arctic temperature. "Can't lose you when we're so close to the top."

He chances it. A look at you and regrets it immediately. Seeing the lax spread of your smile, one lip corner more lifted than the other and like this, you standing grand and tall with him nearly on his knees, he feels the friction. The words left unsaid, weeks on end without each other's touch and how much of a mess it'll be once indulged in again. 

It's entirely his fault. You'd initiated plenty times beforehand ─ a trailing foot up his shin on lunch dates, slow kisses over his lap over at his, pressure pushed into the flesh of his shoulders that'd make him moan shamelessly. You'd been so patient, so putty in his hand that it irritated Heeseung himself that he couldn't summon the energy to comply with your wishes. Because he knew, if one thing led to another, that journey would stretch on. For miles, for hours. He didn't half-ass anything, and he never half-assed you or your pleasure. 

So, the half-excuses came, and you understood every time, climbing off his lap and cuddling into his side, kissing the mole on his arm before you'd continue watching TV together. In the chatter of onscreen actors, you'd been blissfully unaware the man next to you was at war with himself, regretting the words he spoke. Counting down the days until he could have you all to himself. 

Except camping doesn't pan out as expected. Sure, you're glued to his side, an obvious assertion, but you're mingling too. Not strange, because some of his other colleagues are plenty nice, the centre of conversation as you laugh, throwing your head back with that infectious laughter that makes everyone gravitate towards you. Even the same co-workers that'd been slating him for dating you, a running joke he reconsiders now only having presence because the men were jealous themselves. It's made clear in their immediate fold to help you any time you need assistance ─ wood to kindle the fire, clarification on the hiking trials and gear you'd bought brand-new, a set of steady hands stabilizing you as you're hauled up a boulder. 

It's stupid. So stupid, how at the end of every such interaction, your eyes will find him, his already on yours. You'll brim nothing but a smile of innocence and at first, Heeseung believes it. However, back at camp after they've scaled their latest trail, his belief begins to dampen. Watches you become friendly with his own colleagues, laughing too hard at unfunny jokes, swatting shoulders and making a spectacle of yourself, eyes sparkling in learned helplessness, earning yourself the act of being fawned over, men having no shame in helping you even with the slightest things. 

It's purposeful. You must know, revel in it too when your gaze never fails to find his. He hasn't the slightest clue what you're scheming or what your end goal is ─ maybe a hunch or two ─ but if it's what he has in mind, the games end tonight. 

You come back to your shared tent after rinsing the day's sheen off, beads of water still caught on the column of your neck and left to soak into the material of his shirt ─ the only thing you seem to be wearing, shorts adorned barely peeking through from the hem of the shirt. You see it, the fall of his eyes down to your exposed thighs, having the audacity to grin to yourself before zipping the tent back up behind you, the zip sounding strikingly final. 

He ditches his Switch, not even bothering to save his game's progress before it's tuned off, his body shuffled upwards as he goes to speak. "Hey," 

"Today's trail really took me out," you make a show of yawning, one eye closed with a hand over your mouth, putting away your toiletries in the midst of your charade. "Must've been all that time in the sun too."

When they'd finished their hike ─ the team-building activity for the day, hours at the lake feels like a reward. Submerged in cold water, mindless chatter, soaking in the sun's rays. It's a well-deserved break from the city's hustle and bustle, except you don't afford him such a break. While he lounges mindlessly under one of the company-bought parasols, Switch in hand, you shimmy off the clothes you'd worn on the walk over.

A bikini. Harmless in nature, if not for the skin exposure it provides. Somehow it does unnecessary favours for your already flawless figure, covering all necessities but notably teasing in nature. He's sure some heads turn, but all he concerns himself with is you, beaming that sick grin again while his heart punches against his chest's bruises, body fizzing like livewire. 

"I can never get my back," you complain, dramatics in the pull of your features, sunglasses clouding the mischief dancing in your eyes, hands unscrewing your sunscreen. "Wouldn't wanna get your hands all sticky. Maybe I should ask someone else…"

Not even trying it yourself, asking someone else. And he knows who you'll ask, because they've had their eyes on you ever since you sat down.

"Let me."

It's final. The only question raised in the tilt of your head, intrigued or mocking, he'll never know, but he takes your bait. Lathers your back in sunscreen that lingers long after he's rubbed reminiscent on himself, playing your stupid game and taking his sweet time, paying close attention to pressure points that make you sigh, biting back a whimper. 

It's your small dose of karma, confronting you when his hands finally leave you, lips parting in a sentence you never utter. Only slump into its death, clicking your tongue before you put sunscreen on more accessible areas, making the decision afterwards to sunbathe metres away from him. 

You're doing the same now. Pretending to sleep off the day's fatigue as if there's no elephant waiting to be addressed, the roll of Heeseung's eyes harmless before he crowds your space, laying with you like he always has before he closes his eyes too, hoping the last day of his camping trip will give him a break from your childishness.

You have no such plans. 

Some time later, whilst some other colleagues still linger around the campfire, crackling beyond the poor insulation of your cheap tent, you adjust. For comfort, one would assume, but like everything you've done thus far, it carries purpose. You end up shuffling towards him, because his blow-up bed is only so big, and it's immediate. The press up against him, the friction of something so minute, the flesh of your ass grazing against him, weighing with a lasting effect. The lapse of his breath, the force of his opened eyes. 

He's only to blame. Turning his back to you even when you'd been acting like this felt like cruel and unusual punishment, something his body couldn't allow as it thrived off your touch, so he finds himself here. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, willing himself to think of anything else ─ anything else ─ but your laid-out figure. 

He has a go-to list to cycle through ─ details of his latest work project, his favourite video games' releases in chronological order, then alphabetically ─ anything that'll keep his mind occupied in the presence of the semi he's already filled into, but it's no use. You're shuffling again, ass pressed so far into him his pelvis bone feels your body heat, the thin material of your shirt a barrier taunting him with the same shit-eating grin you've given him all weekend.

The tent's temperature scorches beyond a comprehensible amount, clouding his thoughts and senses in a puff smelling eerily similar to you ─ marshmallows, something edible, something his teeth ache infusing into, burrowing into hot flesh, only to hear you mewl, make the sounds he only wants to hear. 

He can't take it anymore. 

He calls for you, whispered, fraying at its end. A sleepy hum resounds from you, a lick of his lips done as his hand hesitates, burning at its fingertips, but itching no less. 

"You're─too close," he croaks, feeling warm all over. Hand hovering, the slump between your hip and waist, shown in the lift of your (his) shirt. "Please." 

Heeseung doesn't know what he begs for ─ for you to have mercy, to leave him to his devices so he can creep into the night for a sad jerk-off, or push further. Grant you your wishes because this must be apart of the game you're playing too, right? Starving him of affection, attention, seeing what he'll do in retaliation.

Your back bows, shoulder blades making a home into his chest as your body burrows into him, a measly sound escaping you. You've grazed again, intentional too because it's a graze no longer, your arm's moved to catch over his hand seized mid-air and he swears he hears you smirk, in the darkness of the night, and like that, there's no comprise. 

No choice left. 

His hand commits to your hip, magnetized. It comes with a hum, buried deep in your chest, but sounding so much like satisfaction, a breath of relief as his fingertips hinge into your skin, memorizing its grooves with his own before a breath shudders out him. 

"You and your fucking games," he grumbles, speaking to a wall only capable of movement. Of attention as you again burrow, hip shifting for his fingers to travel further, fingertips skimmed against the lace waistband of your underwear, electricity conjured at his fingertips. "I'm getting sick of them, honestly."

A snicker. He hears it clear as day, short-lived but undeniable there. His neck cranes, attempting to catch you out but all he sees is your closed eyes, prayer hands beneath your cheek and a smirk on your face.

Unbelievable.

His nose teases along your nape, your hair skirting with the break as you shudder, a breath taken from in front of him, in no way muffled. Warmth licks at the cleared spot, Heeseung's tongue tasting the salt of your skin, the vanilla lotion you'd lathered on, savouring the taste with a hum coursed through you, goosebumps rising in his wake. 

"Tastes just like I remember," his eyebrows furrow, fingertips toying with the bow knotted on your waistband, teeth teasing. Dragging along your flesh, thinner at the nape so his mouth moves, piercing into plush skin. You moan at the sink, warm against his fingertips venturing further, hand eclipsing your cunt to feel you. 

"Oh baby," he can only coo, warmth of your cunt felt as you push into his hand, a helpless whimper escaping you. His greed lights him aflame, middle finger dipping into your entrance through the thin material, finding you soaked all the way through. "If you wanted some attention, all you had to do is ask,"

"Instead, you wanted to be funny," his finger dips further, taunting you now, feeling your walls attempt to grip him, but to no avail. Humour skirts out his lips, airy and feather-light, spurred on by ego as his finger retreats, doing a torturous drag up to your clit where he feels you ─ aching for him, yearning. "Not so funny now, is it?"

Frenzied, his fingers grip the side of your underwear, pulling them back to nestle where they're hassle-free, trembled hand moving back to feel you. Caress with one lone finger from your slicked entrance, caught more by the subtle opening of your legs to your clit, delicate touch wracking a shiver down your spine.

He feels it, braced against his chest and only an exhale can leave him before his hands seek again, three fingers gathering click before he makes circles over your clit, painstakingly slow, like you have all the time in the world. He does it more to catalogue your reactions ─ your poorly muffled whimper, how your hips rock to feel him more, the echo of your cunt closing around nothing, amplified by the duvet loosely draped over your figures. You feel so good under him, and you let him know this, besides the fact of your closed eyes. He doesn't know what you're playing at, but if you think the veil of night and shut eyes will push him past his breaking point, well…

Heeseung only proves your point, fingerpad tracing your entrance, obsessed with the way you melt into his embrace before two fingers move in, lathered in slick and engulfed by your walls, a desperate squeeze of his fingers pressing further, searching and finding the place where you're most weak. His hooked fingers make you squeal, in no way dampened by feigned slumber and he gets off on it, the slick echo between your legs, the moans you try keeping to yourself, how shadows cast over their tent, some colleagues still awake yet blissfully unaware of what occurs in their proximity.

He fills out behind you, teeth gritted as his fingers nudge up into your pleading cunt, teeth buried into your lips letting your pleasure be known, flow of slick dripping down into his palm and onto your thighs. Your walls never want him to leave, constantly clenching with hips rocking into his fingers, huffed breaths panted from your pouted lips. 

He does it anyways. Leaves you high and dry, in a way making your disappointment audible, a whined sigh encouraging the stretch of his lips as he chuckles to himself. Heeseung doesn't let it simmer too long, his own patience worn thin as his hand goes to shimmy your underwear down, helped by the minute lift of your hips before the material's pooled down at your knees, giving him enough space to have you where he wants. 

Drawing closer to you, his cock slips into the sliver of space between your thighs ─ warm and inviting ─ leaking tip teasing past your entrance, chuckling at your cunt's attempt to catch him before his tip nudges against your clit, a withered whimper your response. 

"My perfect girl. So pretty for me," he rolls his hips again, bumping over your sensitive clit, earning more of your concealed moans. His hands are feverish, one slithering up under your shirt and kneading your breasts, running his fingers over your nipple to make you cower. "Starved for affection, aren't you?'

"It's okay, baby," he coos, pouring the words into a kiss as he kisses up and down your neck. "You may piss me off, but I love you all the same. I'll take care of you."

And he does, rocking and back forth, making you tremble each time his head bumps against your clit. He massages your breasts with all-consuming, greedy hands, nimble fingers working to flick and pinch your nipples, its response being the leak down his cock, your folds slippery yet snug, dousing his length in slick. 

"God, you feel good," he sighs, slowly losing himself to the feel of you, lips brushing against your nape. "Soaking my cock like that, poor thing. You wanted this so bad, huh?" 

A wounded whimper is all he hears. A yes to his ears.

He jumps at the opportunity.

"Want me to put it in?" he proposes, knowing it'll make your ears perk. He gets his answer in the stutter of your subtle hip rocks, a jut forward and meek whine all he needs to know. 

It won't suffice this time. 

"Those little sounds aren't gonna cut it, princess. I need your words."

Nothing but the echoes of nature respond back, the hoot of an owl and the crackle of an ongoing fire. 

"I'll leave you the mess you are if you keep at it," he says, tone stern and seemingly unforgiving. "Take your pick."

Then, as he comes down from your clit, his tip catches at your entrance, another claw done to him to make him stay. He pulls back, robbing you of the friction you're aching for, feed up with your own charade as pry your hazy eyes open, tilting your head back towards him, features pinched to garner sympathy.

"Hee," your hand frantically searches for him, yielding nothing but your own folded over palm. The defeat collapses you back to the airbed, dealt a final blow. "Please?"

"Please what?" 

You whine, deprived. "Put it in," you drawl, pushing back for friction "I need it."

Silence settles, weight gained to your words that you sink in their humility, eyes pinched shut in the laboured breaths you do, stunted when a kiss presses down at your nape.

"See? Was that so hard, princess?" you hear him say question, shuffling behind you as he lines himself with your entrance, anticipation simpering in the cells of your body. "Got me so hard, I'll just─"

It slips in. Without push back or more torment, a smooth glide into your walls welcoming him warmly, engulfing him in the sweetest embrace as your mouths fall open, sighs of relief falling from their hang. 

"Fuck," he grunts, burying himself to the hilt where you scratch at the airbed, whimpering. "It's been too long. You're so…"

The words die on his tongue, left behind as he chases pleasure intertwined with you, arm circling your waist to keep you in place as his hips piston into you. He works like the weeks gone have hit him all at once, plunged so deeply in you that it makes basic bodily functions crumble to nonsense, a choke at the back of your throat echoed each time he hits deepest in you. 

"What's the matter baby? Hm?" he noses along your ear, smirk ringing through your eardrums before he does a nibble of your lobe, loving the way you squeal. "Don't want them to know how good I've got you? Thought you were the shameless type, no?"

It only makes you clench harder around him, shame washing over you at the thought. And he's right, not everyone's gone to bed, hushed conversations still heard from your tent thumping with the slick pooled between your legs, the volume of its sound with his needy thrusts curling you into a meek ball.

"Come on, princess," he goads, a grit to his tone he knows will make you give in. "Let me hear you." 

Not that you'd been doing a good job of keeping sounds to yourself, you relinquish the firm press of your paled lips, leaving them loose enough to let how good you're feeling hit his ears. As calculated as you may have thought yourself to be, he one-ups you with a particular notch that barely keeps you together, nails scrambling for a claw at the airbed as you squeal with wild eyes.

'There you go," he encourages, so sickeningly sweet in your ears. "There's my good girl." 

And in between your ears, your brain melts. The words he says, the names he calls you swirling the pool of arousal spinning like a windmill, deceivingly slow but swift to you and Heeseung as he feels your cunt flutter against him, a series of quick squeezes.

"You're so cute when you don't hold back," he chuckles, not sparing a centimetre of space between you as he chases your orgasm, helpless whines seeping from your pouted lips. "Makes me wanna pump you full." 

A pin drops at his words, a boulder sinking to the pits of your stomach.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, already knowing your answer. "To keep you stuffed?"

You're helpless at this point, thoughts far and few between, cast over in unbearable lust. "Pleasepleaseplease," the pleas barrel out your lips, smacked together to taste the desperation on them. "It's all I want, I─" 

A twig snaps. Words and movements cease, the sound dangerously close to your tent putting you on high alert as silhouettes cast over the fabric of your weekend-home, Heeseung's co-workers discussing tomorrow's plans as they depart for the night.

You're trying to hear them, see if the coast is clear over the muffle of your hearing except Heeseung doesn't grant you the opportunity. Instead, he uses the chance to resume rutting into you, slow at first because he's cautious himself, but building back the frantic speed he worked up before, your head on swivel, eyes widened. 

"Looks like we've got company," he can only bring himself to whisper, a glimmer of his wicked smirk the only thing your peripheral catches. "I'm not stopping though." 

Despite your initial fear, you realise you don't want him to stop either. So, you let him have his fill, knowing you'll get yours too as he brings you closer to the edge, canines hinging so deep into your bottom lip you taste metal on your tongue, not helped with the whines spilling through gritted teeth. 

"Come for me, princess." he sings like a siren, your body meeting its maker, circled arm bringing you impossibly close as he knocks into you again and again. "Let me make you come." 

He undoes you, a master of the craft as your vision streaks with white, head falling back as a long, throaty groan drones out you against your will, legs kicking at the burst of ecstasy ravaging your body. Heeseung follows close behind you, last few thrusts spared before he buries himself to the hilt again, knocking where you'll squeeze against him hardest, cunt fluttering around him as he coats your walls in white, the slow hot spill soothing satisfaction past your lips as your body floats back to earth, collapsing onto the lumpy air bed, breathing in the humid air of your tent once again.

Night creaks with its nocturnal creatures, rustling in the forest not far away, the fire doused in water and extinct, your only source of light from the moon hanging above. Regardless, it catches onto Heeseung's features, a sight you grant your eyes the wish of admiring when you've turned on your side, him pulling out beforehand to leave a sticky trail between your legs. 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the skin with care as he looks at you with the same admiration, lip corners lifting in a subtle brush.

"I love you," he says, his heart bared to you before amusement lifts his lips higher. "But I'm never bringing you on a work trip ever again." 

You laugh with him, head ducking into his chest where his hand smooths over the back of your head. When you come back up for air, your lips press a kiss to his nose tip, delicate and sweet before you pull away, slumping into the mattress as your fingertip traces absent patterns into his chest. 

"You love me too much not to," you reason, teasing eyebrow raised when he huffs, rolling his eyes as if your words aren't true. "Okay, okay. I love you too, I guess."

"Go to bed." he argues, two fingers gentle as he pushes your eyes shut, your giggles unconcealed as you open your eyes shortly after.

"I would if someone didn't make a mess." 

"You begged for it, mind you."

"Yeah. Still, your mess." 

He groans, mumbling about how insufferable you are but still coming out the tent with you, holding your hand in the moonlight as you venture to clean off the brunt of his jealousy. You're grinning throughout, thought to be an after-sex glow, only to be brought by the satisfaction of him complying to your wishes.

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FROM YAN 🐰 ➤ major lore drop from y/n !! hopefully her actions are now a little bit more understood < / 3 she's dumb but she has Reasons . also added angst to the tags bc the way this friendship is going is lowk sad. lmk ur thoughts juseyo !!