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hoshigray · 4 months

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𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example.

Yes, you have a boyfriend.

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material.

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more.

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true.

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears.

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?”

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases.

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?”

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle.

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm.

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some—

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace.

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs.

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?”

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right?

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries.

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire.

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots. So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!”

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.”

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…”

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves.

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours.

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties!

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun.

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice.

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?”

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.”

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction.

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking.

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider.

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.”

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in.

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.”

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crystalflygeo · 8 months

Text

The right moment ft Zhongli + fem!reader (modern!AU)

cw/tags: Discussions about first time/loss of virginity. Mentions oral/fingering/handjobs. A bit of pain. This is mostly just comfort tbh.

notes: REMEMBER EVERYONE!! It's okay to change your mind, it's okay to take your time and it's okay to say NO when it comes to sex, for any reason at any time, all of that is valid, and if your partner doesn't respect that or otherwise makes you feel bad for it drop them. (Ty @ainescribe and @silentmoths for beta'ing hehe. Also Happy year of the dragon btw!)

You were trembling in his arms. Zhongli embraced you, holding your body against his chest, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders making you shiver on top of the sheets.

This was it, this was the moment.

You two had fumbled around enough, getting used to his touch, his kisses, his love. And a little burning flame had been born from that along with the flutter in your lovestruck heart. Zhongli was perfect: gentle, patient, smart, kind, handsome…

And you love him.

And you want him.

Which is why one day you gathered up courage, you picked a day where you were not at risk (according to your calendar at least?) made sure you had some ‘protection’ stashed away at your bedside table and said…

“Li, I’m ready.”

“Hm?” He turned to you from his spot on the couch and blinked.

You laced your hands nervously. “I… want to have sex with you. I’m ready.” You blurted out, blushing.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he didn’t immediately say anything. “Are you sure, dear? What brought this on so suddenly?” He asked after a few moments.

“Quite sure.” You nodded, a little more confident, armed with your courage, your little preparations, and of course… excitement. “I just… think it’s time. I want to.”

It was… a little difficult not to be on edge as the moment approached.

Your first time. You’d gladly give it to Zhongli.

It’s not like you were completely new to sex, per se. Truth be told Zhongli had already been your ‘first’ on quite a few things. Your sexual experiences had gone from a bit of heavy petting over the clothes during make out sessions to him eating you out until you’re a whimpering mess or you giving him a few rare handjobs. You just had never… gone all the way.

Technically still a virgin.

But that was changing tonight. You were determined.

Zhongli was soft and reverent, an absolute gentleman as he lowered you on the bed, effortlessly sensual as his hands roamed your body like many other times before. Treating you with utmost gentleness, as if you were a bunny ready to sprint away at the first wrong move. He teased your chest and thighs, nipped softly at your skin and you answered with passionate kisses and heated touches, pulling him closer, letting out pleased hums. He made you come on those skilled fingers and tongue and your body melted, relaxing for him.

And now’s the time…

“You are so beautiful… I love you.” He murmurs the words, warm against your collarbone and you sigh, still panting a bit and recovering from your orgasm.

“Love you too, Li…”

You cup his face and pull him up to kiss his lips again, his strong arms leaning on either side of you. Like this, he’s hovering over you, his larger frame caging you radiating warmth and lust.

You feel his cock press against your hip and almost jolt. You don’t know why but suddenly you refuse to stare at it since, very soon, it was going to be inside you. It was a weird rush of worry, nervousness and giddy arousal.

You know for a fact he’s… big. You remember well the feeling of him on your hand, large and thick, and suddenly you begin to doubt whether or not you would be able to get that thing inside of you.

But you are determined.

He puts on a condom and squeezes some lube into his hand, spreading it evenly on his hard erection, your breath hitches.

He parts your legs and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if he could sense it too. Your face is flushed, your thoughts and senses are a flurry of emotions.

“Are you ready? Relax…” He caresses your thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock poking at your entrance as he slowly guides himself and suddenly there is this weird uncomfortable pressure as he pushes inside. You gasp.

“Ah-!” You yelp in pain and whimper. It was… so big.

Zhongli groans. “Darling, relax… you’re so tight.” His brow furrows slightly in concentration as your pussy clamps down on him.

You whine and bite your lip, hips jolting. He presses a bit deeper and you feel… weirdly stretched out, like you’re going to tear. It hurts. You try to endure it, it’s supposed to hurt, right? It’ll get better. But it continues to hurt. You don’t like it. You panic. “W-wait- wait wait- stop!” You cry out.

Zhongli immediately pulls out and your legs clamp shut, as if shielding you, that weird sensation is still there, you feel… raw, tender.

Your eyes water.

“Dear, are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Zhongli asks, cupping your face, golden eyes searching for your own, assessing your expression.

You avert your gaze, rolling over onto your side. “I’m sorry…” You mumble.

He still tries to face you, worried, so worried, your Zhongli. “Whatever for…?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, bite your lip, a few tears fall onto the bed. Gods you feel so ridiculous and childish and stupid and- “I’m sorry… I was so sure, I thought- I… I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t want to… do this anymore- not now. I’m sorry.” You sob.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for. If anything, I am the one who’s sorry for hurting you, please forgive me, this is… not the experience I wanted you to have.” Zhongli sighs, displeased at seeing you like this.

You finally look up at him, puffy eyes peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not your fault, it’s me… I have this whole… idea, all these expectations. I wanted this to be perfect and I ruined it.”

He rubs slow circles at your back, soothing. “My dear, I don’t think intimacy is something that should be ruled by a standard in any capacity, nor should it be measured and compared, just as experiences and feelings aren’t. These things just flow naturally.”

“You’re not… upset?”

His expression turns serious. “Of course not. On the contrary, I am glad you voiced out your feelings and I’ll respect your boundaries.” He leans down and brushes some hair from your face before depositing a kiss on your cheek. “I want you to feel good, your comfort is of utmost importance. There’s no need to feel pressured.”

You sigh deeply, groan into the bedsheets and then sit up again, pouting at him. “Still, we got all… worked up for nothing. I-I mean I can still…” You gesture vaguely at his lap. “If you want?” You squeak.

Zhongli chuckles and tries to pass it off as a cough. Your face heats up. “No need to concern yourself with that, the arousal is ebbing away, it’ll go down on its own.”

“Oh.”

There is silence for a few moments.

“Do you want-”

“Would you like to-”

“Ah, go ahead.” You shake your head. He smiles.

“I was going to propose a bath.”

You hum. “That sounds lovely. And then maybe… some cuddling on the couch while we watch tv?”

“I would like nothing more.”

He kisses your forehead and heads to the bathroom and as you gingerly stand up, look around and think on how things turned out you think it’s fine.

The right moment will come. You already have the right person by your side.

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serpentandlily · 1 year

Text

Wicked Games

Dark!Batboys x Reader

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU!)

Warnings: Violence, dark themes (will update per chapter)

Part II

Part I

��♥༻

It had been too easy sneaking in through the back door of The Sidra, a huge building filled with luxury apartments only the top one-percent could afford. Too easy sneaking into the laundry rooms downstairs and finding a freshly cleaned maid’s uniform. And too easy convincing one of the maids on duty into believing you were a newly hired employee.

It wasn’t hard to play the role. You had worked as a cleaning lady before—at a motel when you were only sixteen. So it wasn’t long before she was dropping a keychain filled with master keys for each floor into the pocket of your apron and pushing a cleaning cart into your hands.

Before you knew it, you had an access card to the elevators in one pocket and those all too important keys in the other. You waited until no one else was near the elevators before slipping into one and immediately pressing the button that would take you to the penthouse.

According to your sources, aka one of your exes, one of the richest males in Prythian lived in that penthouse. A male who was rumored to make his money in a…less than legal way. And if you knew anything about those types, you knew they’d have cash stuffed into just about every hidden crevice of that apartment. Because that kind of dirty money never made it into banks.

You had tried to do some research on who was living here but it seemed like he was a rather elusive male. All you could find was a first name, Rhysand—and that he had ties to Velaris, the illustrious night club downtown.

It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was getting into this penthouse, finding his hidden stacks of cash and getting the hell out of here. You needed this money and this guy was rich enough that you doubted he’d even notice a measly six grand missing from his piles of cash.

But that six grand meant life or death for you. Because you needed to pay off the debt you owe your ex. You knew his patience with you was slipping and you were worried that for once he’d actually go through with his threats.

The elevator dinged, signaling you had made it to your destination. You stepped out of the elevator, leaving the cleaning cart behind, and found yourself in a grand corridor. There was only one direction to go, only one set of large double doors up here.

You knocked once. Twice. A third time. No answer, no noise, nothing. You thanked God for your luck today as you fumbled with your ring of master keys, trying to figure out which one worked for this door.

It took you longer than you liked but soon you were pushing the doors open and making your way into the insanely large penthouse. Your jaw dropped as you took in the place, envy crawling up your skin like thorny vines.

This place was…incredible. It was opulent, full of expensive looking furniture and high-tech electronics. You spun around, taking in everything. Jesus, the sitting area alone was larger than your own studio apartment. Everything looked so ornate and for this being the supposed bachelor pad for one of Prythian’s richest males, you were surprised by how elegant it all was.

But you quickly snapped yourself out of your admiration. You had a job to do. Find the money you needed and get out of here before someone returned. You checked the usual spots for hidden safes—behind paintings, where medicine cabinets should be, in closets. You cursed as you found nothing out of place.

That was until you stumbled upon a large painting of three mountaintops with a star painted above each in the master bedroom. It was incredibly heavy, but you managed to get it off the wall and nearly let out a squeal of joy when you caught sight of the safe built into the wall. You pulled out the small electronic stethoscope that you had found at a pawn shop years ago and got to work with cracking the safe.

It was one of the skills your ex had taught you. A skill that had come in handy quite a few times. And you were particularly good at this part. So good that you had the safe opened within the hour. Your jaw dropped as the door clicked open and revealed piles and piles of cash, some gems and gold chains. You were half tempted to take it all but restrained yourself.

Just enough. You needed to take just enough to pay off your debt…and maybe some extra for rent this month. Just to get you back on track with your payments. Still, just a small amount that hopefully would go unnoticed. You opened the satchel you had hidden under the maid apron and started tossing stacks into your bag.

Once you were certain you had enough, you closed the safe and went through the strenuous process of hanging the large painting back up on the wall. You were sweating a bit as you finished, wiping your clammy hands on the apron.

Now all you had to do was get the fuck out of here. You could not believe your luck as you made your way back to the front door. Could not believe that everything had gone exactly to plan.

Which is why you shouldn’t have been surprised at the sound of a key unlocking the front door. Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy. Fuck. You looked around quickly, spotting a closet in the hallway and managed to slid yourself into it right as the front doors opened. You held your breath as three large men came walking in, the two in the back lugging in another person whose head was covered with a burlap sack.

Your eyes widened as you took in the scene, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The male who led the group forward was one of the most handsome males you had ever seen. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, his tie loosened around his neck. His hair was short, a dark blue-black color which suited his golden skin.

The two guys holding up their captive were equally attractive, if not more. One was huge, taller than the other two, with muscles cut from stone like a God. He had shoulder length dark brown hair that had been pulled into a bun and wore black pants and a white button-up shirt with his sleeves folded up to his elbows, exposing his veiny forearms.

The other male was just straight up beautiful. His features were more elegant than the other two, as if a romantic artist had spent their whole life carefully crafting him out of clay. He also had dark brown hair, cut short like the first guy, and golden skin that matched the other two. His face was expressionless, unreadable, and that made him look all the more lethal.

The two guys dropped the captive to his knees and yanked the burlap sack off his head. You nearly gasped in surprise as you recognized him. He was known widely in the criminal world as “The Attor.” He was a slimy looking male who used all sorts of weird torture methods to get his victims to talk. Last you heard of him, he was working with Hybern, one of the many gang leaders in Prythian.

“Are you going to talk now?” The male in the suit purred. He sat down in one of the plush armchairs, resting his ankle over a knee. He held an air of authority and you guessed that he was the leader here.

“Fuck you, Rhysand,” The Attor spat, wiggling to try and break free of his bonds.

Ah, so this was the famed Rhysand. You had expected someone older, someone maybe in their fifties. But this guy couldn’t be older than thirty. And god, he was so hot. Most criminals were ugly, aging men. Nothing like the handsome devil who sat in his chair like it was a throne.

Rhysand merely chuckled before running a finger down the armrest of his chair. “Tell us what Hybern’s planning and I might just decide to let you leave with your life.”

But The Attor just spat at his feet. “You and I both know I’ve been a dead man since your dogs caught me.”

The lethal looking male snarled at that. The noise was so animalistic, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re right, you have been,” Rhysand answered with amusement. “And now I tire of our games.” He nodded at the male who had snarled. “Kill him,” he ordered.

Before you could even process those words, the man yanked a blade out of his pocket and swiftly stabbed it straight through The Attor’s throat. A small gasp escaped your mouth as red blood sputtered out of the wound and the man slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing over. You quickly slammed a hand over your mouth, praying to God that they hadn’t heard your slip-up. But you had never seen someone killed before. You had only ever dealt with petty criminals, mostly thieves.

“Did you hear that?” The one built like a God asked, his eyes narrowing as they swept over the place.

You smothered yourself further with your hand, pressing your body against the wall of the closet—as far from the door as you could get.

“I did,” the lethal one answered, yanking his dagger from the dead man’s neck and wiping it clean on his clothes before returning it to his own pocket.

“Who’s here?” Rhysand called out, standing up.

The other two began to search through the room, their footsteps surprisingly silent. You squeezed your eyes shut and sank onto the floor, praying and praying that they wouldn’t look in the closet, that they wouldn’t find you. As a few moments passed, you were beginning to grow hopeful.

But then the closet doors were yanked open and you were being pulled out by your upper arms. You let out a small cry as you opened your eyes to see the lethal one staring down at you, his face impassive as he dragged you into the sitting room and tossed you onto the floor next to the dead man’s body.

You let out a whimper, your apron soaking up some of the blood on the floor.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an intruder,” he called out, gaining the attention of the other two who returned from wherever they had been searching.

Rhysand stepped forward, looking down at you in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected to find one of the maids hiding in his closet. Your whole body tensed as the corners of his lips ticked up. This close now, you could see the unusual color of his eyes, a rich shade of blue that almost looked violet.

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was so sensual, bringing color to your cheeks. “What a pretty little mouse you’ve caught, Az.”

“I’d say so,” the other one smirked, his eyes roaming your face. But you kept your attention on the leader.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was cleaning in the bedroom when I heard the ruckus and…I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go,” you pleaded, quivering under his amused stare.

“That’s odd,” he said, tilting his head at you. “I didn’t schedule any cleaning services today.”

You blinked, trying to come up with another lie. “I-I’m a new hire, sir. I only d-did as I was told.”

He stroked his jaw, glancing at the other two men who stood behind you. “Interesting. You know, I didn’t happen to see any cleaning supplies when I was looking around just now. Did you two see any during your search?”

“Nope,” the bigger one chimed. You could hear the smile in his voice. The other one must’ve shaken his head because Rhysand looked back down at you.

“I-I…” you choked on your own words. Fuck, how were you going to get yourself out of this one? You were screwed. So fucking screwed. You were going to die right here just like the man next to you.

Rhysand stepped forward before bending down on his haunches in front of you. A pathetic whimper fell from your lips as you backed away, only to run into a pair of legs. You gulped, looking up to see the pretty one staring down at you, that unfeeling face sent another shiver through your body.

“You’re not a maid, are you, little mouse?” Rhysand purred, reaching a gloved hand out to brush some hair from your face. You were shaking like a leaf now, as you found yourself surrounded by three dangerous males.

Fuck, you were going to die. All twenty-one years of your life wasted just to die here, likely never to be found. Not that anyone would be looking for you or miss you. You had grown up in foster care, never knowing who your parents were.

“I-I am,” you lied. “I swear it.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue, giving you a mocking frown. “What a pretty little liar you are. I don’t like liars, little mouse. Do you know what I like to do to the people who lie to me?”

You shook your head, not able to form any words. He gave you a wolfish grin and pointed a finger at the dead body on the ground, blood still oozing from the wound on his neck. You whimpered again, a few pathetic tears now slipping from your eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, pretty girl,” Rhysand purred. “It would be a waste to kill a little thing like you. Don’t you agree?”

Your head was spinning now.

“What…what do you want from me?” Your voice shook, making you feel even more pathetic. Rhysand smiled again but it was not reassuring—more like a predator showing off its sharp teeth.

He glanced up at the other two. “What do you guys think? Should we let this little mouse go or should we punish her for her trespassing?”

“We don’t even know what she’s here for yet,” the pretty one said. His voice was as dark as him and just as cold.

You used this time to glance towards the front door, noting how far away it was. You could make a break for it. You were a fast runner and you had the advantage of being smaller and more agile than them.

It could go horrible but you had to try. You had to try and get out of here before they did whatever it was they wanted to you. You would only have one shot, one chance.

Before any of them could notice you plotting, you scooped a handful of blood from the floor and flicked it into Rhysand’s face. He let out a noise of surprise and you used the distraction to slip between the other two and dart towards the door.

You could hear their yells from behind you but didn’t look back as you yanked the door open and sprinted into the hallway. You bypassed the elevators and slammed into the stairway.

You could hear footsteps running behind you and you pushed yourself to run faster, hopping over railings to other floors when you could. You burst through the door leading into one of the other floors and sprinted down the hallway.

A man was leaving his apartment, his eyes glued to the phone in his hand. You pushed him out of your way and slipped into the open door, ignoring his curse from behind you. You ran into the bedroom, darting for the window.

You let out a small cry of relief when you noticed it was connected to a fire escape. You quickly pushed it open and flung yourself through the window, landing with a thud on the metal landing.

You didn’t waste any time climbing down the ladders from landing to landing. You had made decent progress by the time one of the males had figured out where you had gone. The metal fire escape rattled with both of your weights now on it, but you continued climbing down until you reached the bottom.

As soon as you landed on the ground, you took off down an alleyway—twisting and turning down different paths, trying to keep them off your trail. Unlike those rich pricks, you knew the underside of this city like the back of your hand.

As soon as you were confident you had lost them, you found a spot in the shadows to rip the maid uniform off. You tossed it on the ground and quickly got dressed back into the clothes you had brought in your bag.

Once you had pulled on the jeans and jacket, you tossed the hood up and slung your bag back over your shoulder. This time you made your way to a busy street, hoping to get lost in the crowd.

You didn’t let out a breath of relief until you were on the subway, on the line that would take you back to your neighborhood where your shitty apartment would be waiting for you.

You bit your lip, unzipping your bag to make sure all the money you had stolen was accounted for. You finally let out a breath and rested your head against the cold wall of the subway cart.

You had fucking done it. You had stolen from one of the richest men in Prythian and gotten away with it.

༺♥༻

“This is only six grand, bunny,” your ex, Tamlin, said with a small frown. “Where’s the rest?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I owed you six grand, right? That’s what you said. It’s all there.”

“Oh, bunny, you owed me six grand last week,” Tamlin replied, pushing some of his blonde hair away from his face as he looked up at you. You bounced from one foot to the other, standing in front of his desk. “It’s seven thousand, five hundred now—you know, because of interest.”

“What?” You breathed out. “You never mentioned anything about interest!”

Tamlin chuckled, sitting back in his chair. “I did. You must’ve not understood. It’s okay, bunny, not all of us can be smart. It’s a good thing you’ve got that pretty face of yours to get by. But I’ll take this for now. I’ll need the rest by next week, though. And it’ll be an extra one thousand, eight hundred seventy five by then.”

“You can’t be serious! Tam, I—do you know what it took to get that money! Please, I’m begging you. Can’t this be it? An extra thousand dollars is nothing but petty cash to you. Please.”

“I don’t think so, bunny,” Tamlin responded with a mockingly sad voice. “You see, you lost those kinds of privileges when you broke up with me. I could’ve taken care of all of this for you but you’re the one who wanted to cut ties. So now you have to play by the same rules as everyone else.”

“This is ridiculous, please,” you begged. You were willing to get on your knees at this point. All you wanted was to be done with this—done with him. “I can barely afford rent. Barely feed myself. I won’t be able to get you another grand by next week.”

“That stopped being my problem a long time ago, bunny,” Tamlin said, all niceties gone from his voice now as he stood from his desk, placing his palms flat against the surface. “Get the money to me by next week. I’d hate to see that pretty little face of yours ruined. Do you understand?”

You scoffed but Hart, one of his guards, took a step closer to you, so you swallowed your pride, ignored the tears building in your eyes, and nodded your head. You quickly left the room, made a quick exit from the warehouse and started the long walk back to your apartment.

How the hell were you going to get more money for him? He was doing this on purpose, still upset with you for breaking up with him. You wiped at the angry tears spilling down your face. Would you ever be able to pay him off? Would you ever be able to get rid of his presence in your life?

You kicked at the loose concrete pebbles on the ground as you made your way home. You kept your hood on, head ducked towards the ground to avoid any unwanted attention. Now that you no longer had Tamlin’s protection, the men in this neighborhood had gotten rowdier with you.

Once you reached your apartment building, you took two stairs at a time to get to the fourth floor, wincing as you heard Marcus yelling at his wife again for the third time today. You wished she’d put a kitchen knife through his gut and do your whole neighborhood a favor.

You pulled your cheap, burner phone out of your pocket along with your keys, ready to call your friend Valerie to bitch and moan about Tamlin as soon as you were inside.

But apparently God had other plans.

As soon as you flicked on the lights to your apartment, your phone slipped out of your hands and landed with a thud on the floor. Your eyes widened, your heart plummeted all the way to your stomach as your gaze fell on a pair of unusual violet eyes.

Rhysand.

Rhysand was sitting there on your dingy mattress, his nice clothes a stark contrast to your fraying sheets. He gave you a grin that could rival the devil’s.

“There you are, little mouse,” he purred. “I’ve been looking for you.”

#acotar #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #cassian x reader #cassian x you #batboys x reader #batboys x you #azriel #rhysand #cassian #reverse harem #modern au #acotar au

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nextchae · 1 month

Text

pen and point – lee heeseung

word count: 28.9k

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: Y/N is a dedicated fencing athlete whose life revolves around the sport, school, and her part-time job at a campus coffee shop. When Heeseung, a reserved journalism student with an eye for deeper stories, starts frequenting the shop, Y/N is intrigued but unsure of his intentions.

genre: 2521!modern au, slow-burn romance, college!au, fluff

You push open the heavy door to your dorm building, the familiar creak echoing in the dimly lit hallway. It's well past midnight—much later than you meant to be out—but time always seems to slip away when you’re at the gym. Practice had run long tonight. The fencing team had been working on speed drills, refining the quick, explosive movements that define saber. You stayed after, like you usually do, pushing yourself just a little harder, staying just a little longer.

The sharp scent of sweat still clings to your clothes, mingling with the cool night air as you step inside the lobby. The fluorescent lights hum softly above you, casting harsh shadows that stretch across the worn carpet. The weight of your gear bag pulls on your shoulder, a familiar and comforting burden. Your muscles ache, pleasantly tired from the evening’s exertion, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

You reach your room at the end of the hall and fumble for your keys, trying to be as quiet as possible. Chaehyun, your roommate, is likely asleep by now, and you don’t want to wake her. She’s always been an early sleeper, a contrast to your habit of staying up late, either at the gym or cramming for an exam. After a moment of fumbling, the door finally gives, and you slip inside, greeted by the soft glow of fairy lights strung up on Chaehyun’s side of the room. The faint scent of lavender from her diffuser lingers in the air, instantly calming your nerves.

Chaehyun is already in bed, her back turned to you, her breathing slow and even. You’re relieved—no need to explain your late return. You quietly close the door behind you and drop your bag onto the floor by your bed, trying not to disturb the peace of the room. The day’s events replay in your mind as you start to peel off your sweat-soaked clothes, the adrenaline from practice still coursing through your veins.

You head straight for the small bathroom attached to your dorm room, craving the feel of warm water to wash away the grime and tension from your skin. The tiles are cold beneath your bare feet as you step inside, and you quickly strip out of the rest of your gear. The sight of your fencing jacket and mask, now discarded on the floor, makes you pause for a moment. You’ll have to clean and organize your equipment tomorrow; it’s important to keep everything in good condition. But for now, all you can think about is getting clean and finally crawling into bed.

The shower sputters to life, and you step under the stream of water, letting it cascade over your sore muscles. The warmth relaxes you, easing the stiffness in your shoulders and back. As you lather soap over your skin, you notice a faint bruise blossoming on your collarbone, a memento from a particularly hard hit you took during a bout earlier. You smile faintly, the pain a reminder of how far you’ve come since you first picked up a saber. You remember the early days when you could barely keep up, your reflexes too slow, your strikes too hesitant. But now, each mark on your skin feels like a badge of honor, proof of your dedication and growth.

Rinsing off, you let the water soothe you, your thoughts drifting to the upcoming match at the end of the week. It’s your first real test since joining the team—a chance to prove yourself, to show that you deserve your spot. The pressure is immense, but you thrive on it. You know that each practice, each extra hour spent honing your technique, brings you closer to your goal.

After a few more minutes, you turn off the shower and wrap yourself in a towel, the cool air hitting your damp skin as you step out. You quickly dry off and pull on your pajamas, your body feeling lighter, cleaner, as if the shower washed away more than just the sweat and grime.

When you re-enter the bedroom, Chaehyun is still fast asleep, her breathing a soft, steady rhythm in the quiet room. You move carefully, not wanting to disturb her as you gather your discarded clothes and gear, setting them aside to deal with in the morning. Sliding under the covers, you finally let yourself relax, sinking into the familiar comfort of your bed.

The room is quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of Chaehyun shifting in her sleep. You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally catch up with you. But your mind is still buzzing, not quite ready to let go of the day’s events. You think about the footwork drills, the intense focus required to outmaneuver your opponent, the satisfaction of a well-executed strike.

As sleep begins to pull you under, your last thoughts are of the upcoming match. You’ve worked hard for this, sacrificed sleep and social time to be at your best. You tell yourself you’ll be ready, because you have to be. The competition is fierce, and there’s no room for hesitation. But as you drift off, you can’t help but feel a small surge of excitement. This is what you’ve been training for—your moment to shine.

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the depths of sleep, but instead of waking up fully, you groggily reach out and fumble to turn it off, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to steal a few more precious minutes of rest. The warmth of your bed is too inviting, the soreness from last night's practice still lingering in your muscles. You tell yourself you’ll get up in just a moment, but the weight of exhaustion quickly pulls you back under.

A gentle but firm shake at your shoulder jerks you awake. You blink, your vision still blurry, to see Chaehyun hovering over you, her face etched with mild concern.

“Y/N, it’s already 8:30. You’re going to be late,” she whispers, careful not to startle you too much, but there’s a sense of urgency in her voice.

You bolt upright, the words sinking in like a bucket of cold water. Your first class starts at 9:00, and it’s on the opposite side of campus. Panic sets in as you scramble out of bed, the blanket tangling around your legs, nearly sending you crashing to the floor.

“Why didn’t my alarm go off?” you mumble, though you know the answer—it did, and you ignored it.

“You turned it off,” Chaehyun says, already moving to your closet to help you find something to wear. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get out the door. Hurry!”

Grabbing the first outfit you see, you throw it on without much thought, barely registering whether it matches. You run a hand through your hair, hoping it looks somewhat presentable, then grab your backpack, still half-packed from last night.

“Thanks, Chaehyun. I owe you one,” you say breathlessly as you slip on your shoes.

“You owe me more than one at this point,” she teases with a grin, but she’s already pushing you out the door. “Now go! I’ll see you after class.”

You sprint down the hallway, your heart racing not just from the exertion but from the anxiety of being late. The morning air is crisp as you step outside, and you quickly break into a jog, weaving through the throngs of students making their way to class. The campus is already alive with activity, but you barely notice, your mind focused on one thing: getting to class on time.

You make it to the lecture hall just as the clock hits 9:03. The door is slightly ajar, and you carefully push it open, slipping inside as quietly as possible. The professor is already mid-sentence, her back turned to the class as she writes on the board. Relief washes over you when you realize she hasn’t noticed your late entrance.

Moving swiftly, you make your way to your usual seat in the middle of the room, where Taehyun is already settled. He raises an eyebrow as you slide into the chair next to him, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Late night?” he whispers, leaning over so only you can hear.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, still trying to catch your breath. You pull out your notebook and pen, trying to look as though you’ve been there the whole time. The professor turns around, and you quickly avert your gaze to the front, pretending to be engrossed in her lecture.

Taehyun doesn’t let it go, though. “You’ve got bedhead,” he adds with a smirk, his voice just low enough that only you can hear.

You resist the urge to groan, running a hand through your hair again in a futile attempt to smooth it down. “I overslept. Chaehyun had to wake me up,” you admit quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

He nods knowingly, but the teasing smile doesn’t leave his face. “You should start setting two alarms. Or three.”

“Noted,” you reply, rolling your eyes at him, though you can’t help but smile a little. It’s just Taehyun’s way—lighthearted teasing that helps take the edge off your morning’s chaos.

The rest of the class passes in a blur. You try to focus on the lecture, taking notes diligently, but your mind keeps drifting back to how close you came to missing it entirely. You’re grateful to have made it, but you know you need to be more careful. You can’t afford to slip up like this, especially with everything on your plate—classes, fencing, and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life.

When the lecture finally ends, you and Taehyun pack up your things and head out into the bustling hallway. The morning rush is in full swing, and you’re swept up in the tide of students moving from one class to the next.

“You heading to the dining hall?” Taehyun asks as you walk side by side.

“Yeah, I need some coffee,” you reply, still feeling the remnants of your rushed morning.

“Good call. Let’s go before it gets too crowded,” he says, steering you towards the main quad.

As you walk, you mentally make a note to set multiple alarms for tomorrow. You’re not going to risk another close call like that again—especially not with the match coming up. It’s going to take everything you’ve got to stay on top of things, and you’re determined not to let anything slip through the cracks.

The cafeteria at your university in Seoul is bustling with activity as you and Taehyun navigate through the sea of students. The air is thick with the mingling scents of breakfast—steamed rice, kimchi, and a variety of side dishes that make your stomach grumble. Despite the rush, you manage to grab a tray, your eyes immediately seeking out the coffee station. You’re still groggy from your late wake-up call, and you need something strong to shake off the remnants of sleep.

As you pour yourself a cup of coffee, Taehyun leans in, his voice low but tinged with curiosity. “Did you hear about the mess in Professor Kim’s class yesterday?”

You shake your head, more focused on not spilling your drink. “No, what happened?”

“One of the new students—Jisoo, I think—completely froze during her presentation. She just stood there for what felt like forever before she managed to say anything. Everyone was cringing.”

You wince, imagining the awkwardness of the moment. “That’s rough. First-year nerves, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you know how intense Professor Kim can be. She just stared at her until she started talking,” Taehyun says with a slight shrug, clearly unimpressed. “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

You finally secure your coffee and follow Taehyun toward the seating area. You spot Chaehyun and Kai by a window, already seated with trays full of food. The sunlight filters through the glass, casting a warm glow over the table as you approach. Chaehyun waves you over, a subtle smile on her face, while Kai gives a nod of acknowledgment.

“Saved you a spot,” Chaehyun says as you sit down, her tone casual but welcoming. “How was the sprint across campus?”

“Exhausting,” you reply, setting down your tray and taking a sip of coffee. “Thanks for waking me up, by the way. I would’ve missed class if it weren’t for you.”

Chaehyun shrugs, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You really should stop staying up so late. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“Right,” Kai chimes in, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going to burn out before midterms if you keep this up.”

You roll your eyes, though you know they’re right. Between fencing practice and trying to keep up with your classes, your sleep schedule has been all over the place. “I know, I know. I’ll try to get it together.”

The conversation shifts as you start eating, the atmosphere comfortable and unhurried. You’re only a few weeks into the semester, but already the rhythm of campus life has taken hold. The mix of early mornings, long lectures, and late-night study sessions is starting to feel familiar, even if it’s still a bit overwhelming.

“So, there’s some drama going on in the dorms,” Chaehyun says, her voice lowering slightly as if she’s about to share a secret. “You know Hyewon from our floor? She’s been caught sneaking into the guys’ side after curfew.”

Kai raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “For real? What’s she doing over there?”

“Rumor has it she’s been meeting some guy,” Chaehyun continues, her tone casual but clearly enjoying the storytelling. “Apparently, he’s a junior and in the film department. They’ve been trying to keep it quiet, but it’s not exactly a secret anymore.”

Taehyun snorts, shaking his head. “People need to be more careful. The RAs are cracking down this year, and everyone knows it.”

You listen, taking it all in, but you’re not as invested in the gossip as you might have been a few months ago. The newness of it all—new city, new school, new people—has worn off a bit, leaving you more focused on getting through the day-to-day challenges.

After a pause, Kai turns to you. “How’s training going? You’ve got that match coming up soon, right?”

You nod, finishing your coffee before answering. “It’s going well. Tough, but good. I just need to stay focused and not get distracted.”

“Easier said than done,” Chaehyun comments, but there’s no judgment in her tone—just a matter-of-fact acknowledgment of how things are.

“Yeah, but you’ve got this,” Taehyun adds, more sincerely. “Just don’t overthink it.”

You appreciate the support, even if you’re not entirely sure you believe it yourself. The competition here is fierce, and you know you’re going to have to give it everything you’ve got.

As you finish your breakfast, the conversation turns to lighter topics—an upcoming festival on campus, the latest drama on some popular TV show, and plans for the weekend. The weight of the morning’s rush has eased, replaced by the steady rhythm of another day at university.

When you finally leave the cafeteria, the four of you step out into the crisp morning air, the campus already alive with students heading to their next classes. Despite the lingering stress, you feel a small sense of contentment.

The coffee shop’s warm glow spills out onto the quiet street as you lock up your bike and make your way inside. The evening air is cool, and a slight breeze carries the scent of autumn leaves. The shop is tucked away just a block from campus, a cozy retreat where students often gather to study or unwind after a long day. You’ve been working here part-time since the semester started, and while the late shifts can be exhausting, there’s something comforting about the steady hum of the espresso machine and the soft murmur of customers in the background.

As you step behind the counter, your coworker Chaeyoung, a new friend who coincidentally is in the same major as you but one year older, gives you a quick nod before she heads out for the night. “It’s been pretty quiet today,” she says, pulling her jacket on. “Just a few regulars. You should have an easy shift.”

“Thanks, Chaeyoung. See you tomorrow,” you reply, tying your apron around your waist.

The evening crowd is usually a mix of familiar faces—students with their laptops open, working on assignments, and a few locals who stop by for a coffee on their way home. You recognize most of them, but there’s one regular who stands out, not because he’s particularly loud or noticeable, but because of the way he seems to blend into the background.

He’s young, probably around your age, with dark hair that falls just slightly over his eyes. He always wears the same dark hoodie, the hood often pulled up, and he never lingers in the shop for long. He usually comes in during your late shifts, orders the same drink—a black coffee with a splash of milk—and leaves as soon as it’s ready. He’s yet to properly speak to you, other than the bare minimum required to place his order.

Tonight, as you wipe down the counter and prepare for the next wave of customers, you hear the door chime softly. You glance up and, sure enough, there he is—standing just inside the entrance, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets. His eyes flicker over the shop’s interior, as if checking to see how crowded it is, before he approaches the counter.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask, slipping into your usual greeting, though you already know his answer.

“Just the usual,” he says, his voice low, almost inaudible beneath the hum of the shop.

You nod, moving to prepare his order. The shop is quiet tonight, with only a couple of other customers scattered at the tables, absorbed in their own worlds. As you work, you can’t help but wonder about him. He’s become a small mystery to you—a regular presence in your evenings, yet completely unknown.

The coffee machine hisses as you steam the milk, and within moments, his drink is ready. You place the cup on the counter, offering him a small smile as you do. “Here you go—black coffee with a splash of milk.”

He steps forward to take the cup, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he does. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, but he just nods, murmuring a quick “thanks” before turning to leave.

“Hey,” you call out impulsively, surprising even yourself. He pauses, glancing back at you, his expression unreadable. “I see you in here a lot. Do you go to the university?”

It’s a simple question, but it feels like you’re breaking some kind of unspoken rule. He hesitates, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment before he looks away. “Yeah,” he replies shortly. “I’m a student.”

There’s something in his tone—cautious, reserved—that makes you think he’s not used to small talk, at least not with strangers. You’re not sure if you should push further or let it go.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about classes or anything… I’m usually here during the late shifts,” you offer, keeping your tone casual, not wanting to pressure him. “It’s always nice to chat with someone who’s going through the same stuff.”

He nods again, more to himself than to you, before muttering, “Maybe next time.”

And with that, he turns and heads out the door, disappearing into the night as quickly as he arrived. You watch him go, the mystery of who he is lingering in your mind.

As the door swings shut behind him, you can’t help but wonder about the stories he carries with him—the ones he keeps locked behind that quiet demeanor. It’s strange, how someone can become a regular part of your day, yet remain so distant.

The hours stretch on quietly after your regular leaves, with only a few more customers trickling in before the shop grows still. It’s late, and the usual rush of students has dwindled down to nothing, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you go through the motions of closing up. The steady hum of the espresso machine is comforting, almost meditative, as you wipe down the counters, restock supplies, and start counting the till.

Outside, the night has fully settled in, the streets almost deserted save for the occasional car passing by. The soft jazz playing through the speakers blends with the distant sounds of the city, creating a serene atmosphere that helps the time pass. You finish the last of your tasks, grab your bag, and turn off the lights, casting the shop into darkness before locking the door behind you.

As you step outside, the cool night air greets you, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the shop. You pull your jacket tighter around you and start the short walk back to your dorm. The campus is just a block away, and though you’re used to these late-night walks, tonight feels a little different. There’s a tension lingering from your earlier conversation with the regular, a curiosity about who he is and why he always seems so guarded.

When you finally reach your dorm, you enter the code and push open the door, the familiar warmth of the hallway enveloping you. The building is quiet, most students already asleep or buried in their textbooks. As you approach your room, you notice a faint glow seeping from under the door. Chaehyun, your roommate, is usually asleep by now, especially with her early morning classes.

You unlock the door and step inside, surprised to find Chaehyun still awake, sitting on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. She’s absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes fixed on the wall as if lost in thought. A textbook lies open beside her, untouched.

“Hey,” you say softly, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag onto your chair. “Didn’t expect you to still be up.”

Chaehyun glances up, offering a small, distracted smile. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

You can tell something’s on her mind. It’s not like her to stay awake this late, especially when she has classes in the morning. You grab your towel and some comfortable clothes, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helps wash away the fatigue from your shift, but when you return to the room, you find Chaehyun still in the same spot, her expression pensive.

As you sit down on your bed, drying your hair with the towel, you decide to ask. “What’s up? You look like something’s bothering you.”

Chaehyun sighs, her fingers still fiddling with the strand of hair. “It’s… it’s stupid, really.”

You raise an eyebrow, knowing that whatever it is, it’s clearly not stupid to her. “Doesn’t seem stupid if it’s keeping you up this late.”

She hesitates, biting her lip before finally letting out a deep breath. “It’s Minhee,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

You nod, understanding now. Minhee—he’s in your grade, a quiet guy with a gentle smile who seems to have caught Chaehyun’s eye from the very beginning. You’ve noticed the way she looks at him in class, the way her eyes light up whenever he’s around. But Chaehyun has always been a bit reserved when it comes to her feelings, hesitant to make the first move.

“What about him?” you ask gently, knowing there’s more she wants to say.

“It’s just… I don’t know,” she starts, frustration lacing her voice. “Every time I think about talking to him, really talking to him, I just… I freeze. I don’t know what to say or how to act, and I end up avoiding him instead. It’s so frustrating.”

You can see the anxiety written all over her face. Chaehyun, who’s usually so composed and confident, is clearly struggling with this. “Have you tried just… being yourself around him? I mean, he seems like the kind of guy who’d appreciate that.”

Chaehyun lets out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’t even know how to be myself when I’m around him. I get so nervous, like he’s going to see right through me and realize I’m just… boring.”

“Boring?” you repeat, incredulous. “Chaehyun, you’re anything but boring. You’re smart, funny, and you care about people. If Minhee can’t see that, then he’s the one who’s missing out.”

She looks at you, her expression softening a little, but you can tell she’s still not convinced. “I don’t know… Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

“Maybe,” you agree, “but that’s okay. It’s normal to feel nervous when you like someone. But you won’t know how he really feels unless you give him a chance to get to know the real you.”

Chaehyun nods slowly, seeming to mull over your words. “I guess you’re right… I just need to figure out how to get past this… fear, I guess.”

“You will,” you assure her. “And when you do, I bet you’ll realize it wasn’t as scary as you thought. Just take it one step at a time.”

She smiles at you, a real smile this time, though still a little uncertain. “Thanks, Y/N. I know I’m probably being silly, but it helps to talk about it.”

“Anytime,” you reply, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Chaehyun’s smile widens, and she finally seems to relax a little. “I’m just glad I have you to talk to. I’d be lost without you.”

“Same here,” you admit, lying back on your bed. “Let’s both get some sleep now. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

“Good night, Y/N,” Chaehyun murmurs, snuggling under her blanket, her earlier anxiety finally starting to fade.

“Good night, Chaehyun,” you reply, turning off the light.

As the room falls into darkness, you close your eyes, hoping that tomorrow will bring some clarity for both of you. The night is still, and for the first time in a while, you feel a sense of peace as sleep begins to pull you under.

The gymnasium buzzes with energy, the air thick with anticipation as teams from various universities gather for the first fencing match of the season. The metallic clinks of swords being tested, the swish of warm-up jackets, and the low hum of conversation fill the space. You stand with your teammates, Ryujin and Gaeul, your hearts pounding in sync as the day you’ve trained so hard for finally arrives.

You can see Chaehyun, Taehyun, Kai, and the rest of your friends—Jay and Chaeyoung—up in the bleachers, waving when they catch your eye. Chaehyun looks especially excited, a wide grin on her face as she snaps a few photos with her phone, probably to send to you later with some encouraging captions. Taehyun and Kai are shouting something you can’t quite hear, but their support is clear. It’s reassuring to know they’re here, their presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos.

“Ready, Y/N?” Ryujin asks, her eyes sharp and focused, as always.

“Yeah,” you reply, adjusting your mask and gloves. “Let’s do this.”

The team match is up first. It’s a round-robin format, each of you facing off against fencers from the other school. The opposing team looks strong, their stances confident, but you know you and your teammates have been training hard. Ryujin, with her aggressive style, usually takes the lead, while Gaeul’s calm, defensive approach balances things out. Your job is to bring in the points where you can, using your speed and precision to outmaneuver your opponents.

The referee calls you to the piste, and you step forward, saluting your opponent before taking your position. The first bout begins with Ryujin, who scores several quick points, her movements fast and decisive. Gaeul follows, managing to hold her ground and earn a few more points, keeping the score close. Then it’s your turn.

You face off against a tall girl with a strong stance. She lunges first, testing your defenses, but you parry and riposte, landing a clean hit on her shoulder. The match continues, a tense back-and-forth as you try to anticipate her moves while controlling the pace. The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, the rest of the world fading as you focus solely on the bout.

When the referee calls the match, it’s close, but you’ve managed to secure the final points your team needed to edge out the win. Your teammates cheer, and you exchange high-fives with Ryujin and Gaeul as you step off the piste. There’s a brief moment of relief before you remember that your individual match is still ahead.

You catch your breath and take a swig of water, mentally preparing yourself for what’s next. The individual matches are tougher; there’s no team to back you up, and the pressure is entirely on you. You glance toward the bleachers again, seeing your friends waving and cheering, and it gives you the boost you need.

As you’re about to head to the piste for your individual match, something catches your eye. Off to the side, near where the school journalists are gathered, you spot him—the regular from the coffee shop. He’s standing slightly apart from the others, a notebook in hand, scribbling something down as he watches the matches intently.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. What’s he doing here? You’ve never seen him at any school events before, let alone at a fencing match. He’s always been a mystery, but seeing him here, in this context, only deepens your curiosity.

You shake off the distraction and refocus on the task at hand. There’s no time to wonder about him now; you have a match to win. But as you walk to the piste, you can’t help but glance in his direction one more time. He’s still taking notes, his eyes darting between the fencers and his notebook, completely absorbed in whatever he’s writing.

The referee calls your name, and you force yourself to push all thoughts of him aside. Your opponent steps up—a girl from another school, her expression serious and focused. You both salute, then take your positions, the tension palpable.

“En garde,” the referee’s voice cuts through the air. “Prêt… Allez!”

The match begins, and you spring into action, your body moving on instinct. Your opponent is quick, her attacks precise, but you match her step for step, finding openings where you can. The bout is intense, each point hard-fought, but you stay calm, remembering your training.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the regular glance up from his notebook, watching your match with what seems like more than just passing interest. You block it out, channeling all your focus into the fight.

The final exchange is a blur—a flurry of attacks and parries—until you see an opening and strike, your blade landing cleanly on her torso. The referee raises his hand, signaling the point in your favor. The match is over.

You remove your mask, breathing heavily as the adrenaline starts to fade. Your teammates rush over to congratulate you, their cheers mixing with those of your friends in the stands. You managed to win, both the team match and your individual bout, and the feeling of victory is sweet.

But even as you celebrate with Ryujin and Gaeul, your thoughts drift back to the regular. He’s no longer writing, just watching the scene unfold with an inscrutable expression. Then, almost as if he senses your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. There’s a brief moment where neither of you looks away, and then he nods slightly, almost as if in acknowledgment, before turning his attention back to his notebook.

You’re left wondering what that nod meant, if anything. But before you can dwell on it, your friends swarm around you, pulling you into their excitement. There will be time to think about him later.

The weeks following the first tournament pass in a blur, your life consumed by the relentless demands of school, fencing, and work. Every day feels like a balancing act, trying to keep everything from crashing down as you juggle your commitments. Early morning practices, late-night study sessions, and shifts at the coffee shop—it’s a grind, and there’s little time for anything else.

Fencing practices have become more intense as the team prepares for the upcoming matches. Ryujin and Gaeul push you to your limits, honing your speed and precision with grueling drills. Coach keeps a close eye on everyone, always expecting more, demanding perfection. The victories from the first tournament are already a distant memory, replaced by the constant pressure to improve, to be ready for whatever comes next.

Classes, too, are piling on the pressure. Midterms are fast approaching, and professors seem determined to cram as much information as possible into each lecture. You spend hours poring over textbooks and notes, trying to keep up with the endless stream of assignments and projects. Your mind is a whirlwind of dates, formulas, and theories, each one more complex than the last.

The coffee shop offers little respite. The late-night shifts stretch on endlessly, and by the time you finish cleaning and lock up, it’s often past midnight. The regulars who once filled the shop now seem like a blur of faces, all blending together in your memory. The only person who stands out is the mysterious guy who hasn’t shown up since the tournament. His absence lingers in the back of your mind, a quiet distraction that you can’t quite shake.

Every time you work a shift, you find yourself scanning the shop, half-expecting to see him sitting in his usual spot, notebook in hand. But he never appears. You try to convince yourself that it’s nothing, that he was just a random customer who happened to catch your eye. But the truth is, you’re curious. There was something about him—something intriguing, something you can’t quite put your finger on—that makes you wonder who he is and why he hasn’t come back.

The days blur together, one after the other, as you push through the exhaustion and the mounting pressure. There’s no time to dwell on the regular or on anything else outside the immediate demands of your schedule. Sleep becomes a luxury, something you snatch in brief intervals between studying, practicing, and working. The stress builds, creeping into every corner of your life, until it feels like you’re constantly on the edge, just trying to hold it all together.

As midterms draw closer, the tension reaches a breaking point. Every day feels like a race against the clock, with too much to do and not enough time to do it. The nights grow longer as you stay up late, cramming for exams, only to wake up a few hours later to start all over again. Coffee becomes your lifeline, the only thing keeping you awake during the endless hours of studying and practice.

Despite the chaos, the absence of the regular still nags at you. It’s been weeks since the tournament, and you can’t help but wonder what happened to him. Was he just a one-time visitor? Did he find another coffee shop? Or did something happen that caused him to stop coming? The questions swirl in your mind, surfacing at the most inconvenient times—during class, while practicing, even as you try to sleep.

Chaehyun notices your distraction, but she’s too caught up in her own worries about Minhee to say much. The two of you share a mutual understanding—there’s too much going on, too many demands, to focus on anything else. Still, she tries to cheer you up when she can, dragging you to the campus café for study sessions with Taehyun, Kai, Jay, and Chaeyoung. But even in the midst of your friends, your thoughts drift back to the regular, wondering why he’s disappeared from your life as suddenly as he entered it.

One evening, after an especially grueling practice, you collapse onto your bed, your muscles aching and your mind racing. You know you should be studying, but the textbooks feel like they weigh a ton, and you can’t bring yourself to move. Instead, you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts of the regular out of your mind. But they keep creeping back, slipping past your defenses, until you find yourself wondering if you’ll ever see him again.

Chaehyun glances over at you from her desk, where she’s furiously typing up a report. “You okay?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” you reply, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. “Just tired.”

She nods, understanding. “We all are. Just a couple more weeks, and then we can relax. Or, you know, sleep for a week straight.”

You laugh, though it’s more out of exhaustion than humor. “Sounds like a plan.”

But even as you joke, the regular’s absence continues to bother you, a small, nagging feeling that something is off. You try to push it aside, to focus on the here and now—the exams, the practices, the never-ending stream of work. But it’s there, lurking in the back of your mind, a puzzle you can’t quite solve.

As the night wears on, you force yourself to get up and start studying, knowing you can’t afford to fall behind. But the thoughts of the regular linger, a quiet distraction that you can’t shake, no matter how hard you try.

The following week, the routine continues. Early mornings at the gym, afternoons in class, evenings at the coffee shop. The grind is relentless, each day a blur of exhaustion and effort. But you push through, knowing that you can’t afford to let up—not with midterms just around the corner.

The regular still doesn’t show up, and you find yourself growing more and more frustrated. It’s silly, you know, to be so preoccupied with someone you barely know. But there was something about him, something that made you curious, made you want to know more. And now that he’s gone, that curiosity has turned into a nagging itch, a feeling that something is missing.

The days grow shorter as autumn sets in, the air turning crisp and cool. The leaves on the trees outside the dorm begin to change color, painting the campus in shades of red, orange, and yellow. But even the beauty of the season can’t distract you from the growing pressure of midterms, or from the absence of the regular.

As the week wears on, you start to wonder if you’ll ever see him again. Maybe it’s for the best, you tell yourself. You’re too busy to be worrying about some guy you don’t even know. But the thought doesn’t bring you any comfort, and you find yourself hoping, just a little, that he’ll show up one more time.

You try to focus on your studies, on fencing, on work. But the regular’s absence looms large in your mind, a mystery you can’t quite let go of, no matter how hard you try. The routine continues, day after day, but you can’t help but feel like something is missing, something important that you can’t quite put your finger on.

And so, you push forward, determined to get through the next few weeks, to survive the grind and make it through midterms. But even as you do, you can’t shake the feeling that the regular’s absence is more than just a coincidence, that there’s something more going on beneath the surface.

The end of midterms brings a collective sigh of relief that seems to ripple across the entire campus. After weeks of cramming, late-night study sessions, and endless exams, everyone is ready to unwind. The first big party of the semester feels like a long-awaited reward, and the buzz around it is electric. You can feel the excitement in the air as you and Jay walk towards the off-campus house where the party is being held.

Jay is practically bouncing beside you, his usual energy amplified now that the weight of midterms is finally off his shoulders. "This is going to be good," he says, grinning ear to ear. "Everyone’s talking about it.”

You smile, though a part of you is still too tired to fully embrace the idea of a wild night. "I’m just looking forward to a drink and not thinking about school for a bit," you reply.

The house comes into view, its windows glowing with warm light, and the sound of music and laughter spills out onto the street. Groups of people are already gathered on the front lawn, red plastic cups in hand, talking and laughing as if the stress of the past few weeks never existed.

Inside, the house is packed, every room filled with people dancing, talking, and letting loose. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and the faint sweetness of someone’s attempt at a spiked punch. You and Jay navigate through the crowd, heading toward the kitchen where you expect to find the rest of your friends.

Sure enough, Kai and Taehyun are already there, leaning against the counter, each with a drink in hand. They look more relaxed than you’ve seen them in weeks, their faces flushed from the warmth of alcohol and the relief of having survived midterms.

"Finally!" Kai exclaims when he sees you, raising his cup in greeting. "Thought you’d never get here."

"Had to drag myself off the couch," you admit with a laugh, grabbing a cup and filling it with soju. "But I made it."

Taehyun grins at you over the rim of his cup, his eyes slightly glassy. "You deserve a night off. We all do."

The four of you settle into an easy rhythm, chatting and laughing as the party continues around you. The tension of the past few weeks starts to melt away, replaced by the comfortable camaraderie of friends who’ve all been through the same things. For the first time in a while, you allow yourself to relax, to just enjoy the moment.

As the night goes on, you start to feel the effects of the alcohol—a pleasant warmth spreading through your body, making you feel lighter, more carefree. You drift through the party, talking to people you barely know, losing yourself in the music and the laughter that fills every corner of the house.

After a while, you decide to take a break from the noise and head towards the quieter hallway near the back of the house. The music is more muted here, and you find yourself grateful for the brief reprieve. As you turn a corner, though, you come to an abrupt stop, your eyes widening in surprise.

Chaehyun and Minhee are there, pressed up against the wall, completely absorbed in each other. They’re so caught up in their own world that they don’t even notice you standing there. A flush of embarrassment creeps up your neck as you realize you’ve walked in on them making out.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place, unsure of what to do. You don’t want to interrupt, but you also don’t want to just stand there awkwardly. Eventually, you decide to back away slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. As you retreat, you can’t help but feel a small pang of amusement. Chaehyun has been crushing on Minhee for so long—it’s about time something happened between them.

As you make your way back to the main part of the house, you spot a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. You do a double-take, your heart skipping a beat when you realize who it is. Standing near the edge of the living room, engaged in quiet conversation with another guy, is the regular from the coffee shop.

He’s dressed more lively than you’re used to seeing him, as opposed to his dark hoodie, but there’s no mistaking him. The sight of him here, in the middle of the party, is so unexpected that you almost think you’re imagining it. The guy he’s talking to is vaguely familiar as well—it takes you a moment to place him. Sunghoon. Jay’s friend.

You watch them for a moment, your curiosity piqued. The regular seems different in this setting, more relaxed, though still maintaining that air of quiet intensity that caught your attention in the first place. The conversation between him and Sunghoon seems serious, their expressions focused.

Before you can decide whether to approach them or just slip away unnoticed, Jay appears beside you, nudging you with his elbow. "Hey, what’re you staring at?" he asks, his tone light but curious.

You quickly shake off the daze and force a smile. "Just people-watching," you say, trying to sound casual.

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t press the issue. "Come on," he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Let’s get another drink."

You let him lead you back towards the kitchen, but your thoughts keep drifting back to the regular. What’s he doing here? How does he know Sunghoon? And why does he always seem to show up when you least expect it?

The night wears on, and the drinks keep coming. The atmosphere is infectious, the weight of midterms lifted, and the collective energy of the party propels you further into the evening. Kai and Taehyun are in full party mode, dragging you and Jay into a dance circle in the middle of the living room. The music thumps in your chest, the laughter and shouts of your friends blending into the rhythm, and for a while, you forget everything except the sheer joy of being free from stress.

But as the night deepens and the alcohol warms your veins, your thoughts keep drifting back to the regular. He’s still there, lingering at the edge of the party, talking to Sunghoon. You steal glances at him whenever you can, your curiosity growing stronger with each passing minute. The alcohol dulls your inhibitions, and soon you find yourself wondering why you’re just watching him from afar when you could be talking to him, getting some answers.

It’s a combination of the drinks and the sense of freedom from the night that pushes you over the edge. At some point, you lose count of how many cups of soju you’ve had, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re feeling bold, more so than you have in weeks, and the next thing you know, you’re making your way across the room towards the guy who’s been occupying your thoughts for far too long.

“Come on, Jay,” you say, trying to sound confident despite the alcohol fuzzing your words. “I want to talk to that guy over there.”

Jay looks at you, a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, you mean Heeseung? Alright, let’s go.”

Heeseung. That’s his name. He looks up as you and Jay approach and there’s a faint hint of recognition in his eyes as he raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. Sunghoon, catching on to your intention, steps aside with a glance at Jay.

“Hey,” you say, louder than you intended, as you reach them.

Both Heeseung and Sunghoon turn to look at you, surprise flickering across their faces. You suddenly feel a bit self-conscious under their gaze, but you push through it, locking eyes with Heeseung.

“Hi,” Heeseung responds, his voice calm and even. Up close, you notice he has a gentle intensity about him, something that makes your pulse quicken. “Uh, can I help you with something?”

You swallow, suddenly unsure of what to say. What exactly did you plan on saying? You’re not entirely sure, but the alcohol gives you just enough confidence to keep going.

“I… I’ve seen you around,” you begin, your words slurring slightly. “At the coffee shop. You come in a lot.”

Heeseung’s expression softens, and you think you see a hint of a smile. “Yeah, I go there pretty often. You’re the barista, right?”

You nod, relieved that he remembers you. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Sunghoon glances between the two of you, looking slightly amused, before clapping Heeseung on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go find Jake,” he says, excusing himself with a knowing look and taking Jay with him. “See you around.”

Heeseung nods at Sunghoon before turning his attention back to you. “So, what’s up?”

You shift on your feet, the alcohol making you a little bolder but also a little less coherent. “I’ve been wondering about you,” you admit, a bit embarrassed. “You don’t really talk much. You just… come in, get your coffee, and leave. But you’re always writing or taking notes. What’s that about?”

Heeseung chuckles softly, the sound low and a little shy. “I didn’t mean to be mysterious. I’m just… focused, I guess. I’m in the journalism club, and I’m usually working on articles or notes for upcoming interviews.”

“Oh,” you say, nodding as if that explains everything. “That makes sense. But why haven’t you been in the shop lately? I mean… not that I’m keeping track or anything,” you suddenly splutter, face turning even redder than you knew it already was.

Heeseung seems to consider you for a moment, his gaze steady. “I’ve been busy with a project,” he says finally. “But I didn’t mean to stop coming in. Just got caught up in things.”

You hum in understanding, feeling oddly pleased with his answer. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. You… you’re always working, huh?”

“Pretty much,” he admits, his smile widening a fraction. “What about you? I’ve seen you at the shop, but I didn’t know you were on the fencing team. That was you at the tournament. You’re, you’re good. I’m writing a piece about your team in next month’s paper.”

His compliment catches you off guard, and you feel a flush of warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “Thanks,” you say, a bit shy now. “I-I noticed you there. You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” he replies, his tone teasing.

You laugh, feeling the last bit of tension slip away. “Well, you could’ve at least waved or something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Heeseung says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

There’s a brief pause, the noise of the party swirling around you as you stand there, just looking at each other. You’re not sure what to say next, but you don’t want the conversation to end. There’s something about Heeseung that draws you in, something that makes you want to know more about him.

“So… do you always just cover sports?” you ask, tilting your head curiously.

“Not always,” Heeseung replies simply, leaning against a wall. “So,” Heeseung says, leaning against the wall, “do you always get this bold after a few drinks?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and the ease of the conversation. “No. It’s just… it’s nice to have a break from everything, you know?”

Heeseung nods, a thoughtful look on his face. “I know what you mean.”

You agree, feeling a sense of connection with him that goes beyond the casual small talk. The night has turned into something unexpectedly pleasant, and as you continue to talk, you feel like you’re finally starting to understand the enigmatic Heeseung.

As the party begins to wind down, you notice Jay and Sunghoon making their way back toward you and Heeseung. Jay, still wearing that ever-present smirk, gives you a knowing look.

“Everything good here?” he asks, his tone more genuine than teasing.

Heeseung nods, his expression relaxed but still somewhat reserved. “Yeah, we’ve just been talking.”

Sunghoon gives Heeseung a pat on the back, and there’s a brief exchange of glances between them—something unspoken that you can’t quite decipher. Jay shifts his weight, glancing at you as if he’s debating whether to say something or just let the moment pass. Glancing at his phone, he finally speaks. “We should probably get going.”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling a mix of reluctance and contentment. “It’s getting late.”

Heeseung gives you a small nod, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll be back for coffee tomorrow, Y/N.” You glean that he learned your name long before you learned his, from his work in the journalism club.

“See you then,” you reply, feeling the weight of the words. There’s no need to force anything more out of the moment—it feels complete as it is.

As you and Jay walk away, you feel a sense of quiet satisfaction. And heading back to your dorm, you can’t help but wonder about Heeseung and what else you have yet to learn about him.

As promised, Heeseung returned to the coffee shop the next afternoon. You’d wondered if the conversation at the party was just a fleeting moment, something that would fade by morning. But there he was, standing in line, that familiar reserved expression on his face, though his eyes carried a hint of something playful as he scanned the menu.

You were behind the counter, finishing up an order when you noticed him. A small flutter of nerves caught you off guard, but you quickly masked it with a professional smile. It was just Heeseung, you told yourself—a regular customer, nothing more. Yet the memory of your conversation from the night before lingered, making him feel like more than just another face in the crowd.

When Heeseung reached the front of the line, he gave you a smile that was a bit wider than his usual one. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” you replied, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “Back for another round of caffeine?”

He nodded, glancing briefly at the menu before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah, I think I’ll try that cappuccino you mentioned.”

“Straight up or with a flavor?” you asked, already moving to prepare the drink.

“Straight up. I trust your recommendation,” he said, leaning casually on the counter. As you started steaming the milk, he added, with a playful tone, “You seemed pretty confident about it last night, but maybe that was just the drinks talking.”

You felt your face warm, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling up. Admittedly now, you had no recollection of recommending him the cappuccino at all. “Oh, so you’re going to tease me about that now?”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and easy. “Just a little. You were pretty bold last night, but I figured it was the liquid courage.”

“Well, maybe it was,” you admitted, focusing on the cappuccino to avoid his eyes. “But I still stand by my coffee skills, drunk or not.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Heeseung replied, watching as you finished his drink. “You’ve got a good reputation around here.”

You handed him the cup, feeling a bit of pride at the compliment. “So, what’s on your agenda today? More stories to write?” You asked, happy to change the topic from your inebriated state during your last encounter with him.

Heeseung took a sip of his cappuccino, his eyes lighting up at the taste. “This is really good,” he said, before continuing. “Actually, yeah. I’m working on a few pieces. The one about the fencing team that I mentioned.”

Your stomach flipped as you remembered him telling you this last night. You had been so overwhelmed in just actually having a conversation with him that you hadn’t given any more thought to his mention about the story covering the fencing team. “What’s the story going to be about?” you asked genuinely curiously.

Heeseung leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “It’s a feature on student-athletes and how they balance sports with everything else. Your team’s been doing pretty well, and I thought it’d be interesting to dive into what makes you all tick. I was going to reach out to some of your teammates for interviews.”

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought. “That sounds cool. Are you, planning to interview me too?”

Heeseung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “If you’re up for it. I think your perspective would be interesting—especially considering you’ve got work, fencing, and classes all juggled pretty well.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the flutter in your chest. “I’d be down for that. I mean, if you think I’d have something worth saying.”

Heeseung gave you a look that was both serious and slightly teasing. “Everyone has something worth saying. Besides, I’ve seen how focused you are at practice. There’s a story there, trust me.”

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, you’ve got me convinced. Let me know when you want to do the interview.”

“Will do,” Heeseung said, taking another sip of his coffee. He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, then added, “You know, you were pretty curious last night. About me, I mean.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “Was I that obvious?”

Heeseung grinned, his usual reserve giving way to something more playful. “A little. But I don’t mind. I’m used to asking questions, not answering them, so it was a nice change.”

“Well, I guess I’m just trying to figure out the guy who comes in here, gets his coffee, and disappears without saying much,” you replied, feeling a bit bolder now that the topic was out in the open.

“I’m not that mysterious,” Heeseung said with a soft laugh, though his smile suggested he enjoyed the idea. “I think I became dependent on the coffee from here. Without it at the end of last year, I genuinely don’t think I would’ve survived. But I was used to just running in and out of here.”

You nodded in understanding, gathering more information from his words that he was at least a year older than yourself. “You should try staying sometime. We’ve got other drinks besides just coffee too, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Heeseung replied, his tone lighter now. “Especially if you’re the one making them.”

Before the conversation could go any further, another customer approached the counter, pulling your attention away. Heeseung noticed and gave you a small wave.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, stepping aside. “But thanks for the coffee, Y/N. I’ll be in touch about the story.”

You smiled, waving him away and watching as he left the small café, journal in hand.

On your walk back to the dorm, you replayed his words in your mind, particularly his comment about everyone having something worth saying. It stuck with you, making you wonder if there was more to you—more to your own story—than you’d given yourself credit for.

And then there was the story Heeseung was working on, the one about your fencing team. The thought of being featured in an article made you both excited and nervous. You couldn’t help but think about what he might write, how he might see you through his lens as a journalist.

By the time you reached your dorm, the day’s events had left you with a sense of anticipation. Things were shifting, slowly but surely. Heeseung’s presence in your life, however small it might be right now, felt like the beginning of something new—something you weren’t sure how to define just yet.

But for now, you were content to let it unfold at its own pace, curious to see where it might lead.

The weeks leading into winter passed in a blur, the chill in the air growing sharper with each day. With the end of the semester looming, your schedule became a tightrope act, balancing between academics, fencing, work, and the slow but steady shifts in your social life.

Your literature project with Taehyun was one of the first things to dominate your time. The two of you had been paired up to analyze a complex, multi-layered novel that was both fascinating and exhausting. It required countless hours in the library, pouring over pages and notes, trying to piece together a coherent argument that would satisfy your professor’s exacting standards.

“Honestly, I think I’ve read this chapter five times, and I still don’t get what the author’s trying to say,” Taehyun grumbled one afternoon, his head buried in his hands. You were seated in a quiet corner of the campus library, surrounded by stacks of books and discarded drafts.

You chuckled, though you felt the same frustration. “Maybe that’s the point—ambiguity as a narrative device or something.”

Taehyun lifted his head, a skeptical look on his face. “Or maybe the author just liked to mess with his readers. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Despite the long hours and occasional confusion, working with Taehyun had its perks. His sense of humor kept things light even when the material felt heavy, and the shared struggle somehow made the project feel less daunting.

In between study sessions, you found yourself talking to Chaehyun about her new relationship with Minhee. The shift from pining to dating had happened quickly, and you could see how it had brought a new glow to her usually calm demeanor.

“So, how’s it going with Minhee?” you asked one evening, after you both returned from your respective activities. You were sprawled on your bed, exhausted from another grueling fencing practice, while Chaehyun sat at her desk, typing away on her laptop.

Chaehyun paused, a shy smile spreading across her face. “It’s... really good. Better than I expected, actually. He’s so thoughtful, you know? And sweet. It’s nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her happiness. “I’m glad. You deserve someone who treats you well.”

“Thanks,” Chaehyun said, turning to face you. “We’re still figuring things out, but I like where it’s going. It’s just... new, you know?”

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “Yeah, new can be both exciting and terrifying.”

Chaehyun laughed softly. “Exactly. But I think it’s more exciting than terrifying right now.”

As Chaehyun’s relationship with Minhee deepened, you found yourself spending more late nights with the fencing team, the team growing stronger as you all pushed yourselves harder in preparation for the upcoming winter tournaments. Ryujin and Gaeul were a constant presence and the three of you formed a tight-knit unit on and off the piste.

“Are we fencing or just trying to survive winter at this point?” Ryujin joked one evening, her breath visible in the frigid air of the training facility.

“Both, probably,” Gaeul replied, stretching her arms.

You smiled at their banter, feeling a sense of belonging that you hadn’t expected when you first joined the team. The late-night practices were grueling, but they were also a refuge—a place where the stress of school and work melted away, leaving only the focus and adrenaline of the sport you loved.

And then, there was Heeseung.

Since that conversation at the party, Heeseung had become a regular fixture in your life, though in subtle ways. He continued to visit the coffee shop, usually in the afternoons when the rush had died down, and you found yourself looking forward to those moments more than you wanted to admit.

Each time he came in, you exchanged a few more words, small talk that gradually grew into something more substantial. He teased you occasionally about your drunken confidence at the party, but it was always in good humor, and you found yourself warming to his quiet, steady presence.

“You should try the caramel macchiato next,” you suggested one day, after he’d ordered his usual cappuccino.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Is this you branching out from straight-up coffee recommendations?”

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning on the counter. “Or maybe I’m just trying to expand your horizons.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot next time. I trust your judgment.”

Outside the coffee shop, you occasionally saw him around campus, usually in the library or at the student center, often with his notebook in hand. He was always absorbed in his work, but he never seemed too busy to stop and chat if you crossed paths. You learned that he was a journalism major, passionate about uncovering stories that others might overlook. His feature on the fencing team was still in the works, and every so often, he’d ask you a question or two about your experiences.

“You mentioned you started fencing in elementary school,” Heeseung said one afternoon as you handed him his coffee. “What got you into it?”

You hesitated for a moment, considering how much to share. “It was kind of random, actually. I saw a demo at a school fair and thought it looked interesting. I liked the idea of a sport that was both physical and strategic, or maybe I just liked the pointy swords back then. But once I started, I just… got hooked.”

Heeseung nodded, jotting something down in his notebook. “It makes sense. Fencing isn’t just about brute strength—it’s about thinking ahead, reading your opponent. It suits you.”

You blinked, taken aback by the insight. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, glancing up at you with a small smile. “You’ve got that kind of focus—like you’re always considering your next move.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded, a bit flustered by the compliment. It wasn’t often that someone saw you that way, and it left you feeling both exposed and strangely validated.

As the weeks wore on, winter crept closer, bringing with it a sense of both urgency and anticipation. The days grew shorter, the cold biting deeper, but there was also a certain excitement in the air—an awareness that something was building, both in your life and in the lives of those around you.

Chaehyun and Minhee’s relationship was growing stronger, the fencing team was gearing up for the winter season, and your literature project with Taehyun was nearing completion, the two of you finally starting to make sense of the novel’s tangled themes.

And Heeseung as present as ever, whose stance in your life continued to grow, even if it was still undefined.

As you stood in the coffee shop one late afternoon, watching the first snowflakes of the season drift down outside, you couldn’t help but wonder where all these pieces would lead. Winter was here, and with it came the promise of change—of challenges and new beginnings, of stories waiting to be written.

The gymnasium buzzed with the collective energy of two rival teams and their supporters. The cold winter air outside contrasted sharply with the warmth inside, where anticipation hung thick. Your breath was steady, your mind focused, but you could still feel the nervous excitement humming through your veins as you tightened the grip on your saber. This was your second big match of the season, and after the hard-earned victory last time, expectations were high.

Your team was up against another strong school, but this time, things felt different. Your preparation had been intense, the extra hours you spent with Ryujin and Gaeul paying off in how smoothly you moved together on the piste. There was no hesitation in your movements, no second-guessing your strategy. Everything you’d worked for was about to be tested again.

The first part of the match was a group event, just like last time. You, Ryujin, and Gaeul faced off against your opponents with a renewed confidence. The cheers from your side of the bleachers spurred you on, each point won driving you to push harder. Chaehyun’s voice was unmistakable, rising above the crowd with her usual enthusiastic support, while you could also make out Taehyun, MInhee, Jay, and Chaeyoung joining in.

By the end of the group match, your team was ahead by a comfortable margin. The final score was a significant improvement from the previous match, a reflection of your team’s growing synergy. As the referee announced your victory, a wave of elation swept through you, a mixture of relief and pride. You and your teammates exchanged high-fives, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was amazing!” Ryujin said, her voice slightly breathless as she unhooked her mask. “We were on fire today!”

Gaeul nodded, her face flushed with the exertion and excitement. “It’s like everything just clicked. We’ll be the same for the individuals.”

You smiled, feeling the truth of their words. The victory felt earned, the product of your collective effort. But there was still the individual match to go.

As the team celebrations began to wind down, you prepared for your own one-on-one bout. This time, you were facing a different opponent—a girl with a reputation for being quick and aggressive on the piste. The kind of challenge you thrived on.

The individual match was intense, every move calculated, every strike measured. But you held your ground, matching her pace, anticipating her next move. You could feel the rhythm of the fight, the give and take, the way you both adapted to each other’s style. And then, in a final, decisive moment, you scored the winning touch.

The crowd erupted into applause as you removed your mask, the rush of victory coursing through you. Your teammates were the first to greet you as you stepped off the piste, their congratulations adding to the euphoria of the moment.

“Yes!” Ryujin exclaimed, clapping you on the back.

“Great job, Y/N!” Gaeul added, her smile wide. Both girls had also won their individual matches making your school shoot up the ranks.

You basked in the team for a moment, letting the energy of the win wash over you. But out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Heeseung standing on the sidelines, his notebook in hand, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of interest and something else you couldn’t quite place.

He hadn’t been as close to the action as your friends, but he’d clearly been watching. After a moment, he started making his way toward you, weaving through the small crowd of spectators and teammates.

“Hey,” Heeseung said as he approached, his voice carrying over the noise of the gym. “That was a great match. Congrats, you deserve it.”

“Thanks,” you replied, still catching your breath. “It was intense, but I’m glad it went well.”

Heeseung nodded, his usual reserved smile in place. “If you’ve got a few minutes, I was hoping we could do that interview now—if you’re up for it.”

You hesitated, still riding the high of the win, but you knew this was something you’d been expecting. And honestly, you were curious about what questions he had lined up for you. “Sure, let’s do it.”

Heeseung led you to a quieter corner of the gym, away from the noise of the celebrations. You both settled down on a bench, the sounds of the ongoing matches and distant chatter forming a muted backdrop.

He flipped open his notebook, his pen poised, and gave you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry, this won’t be too formal. Just a few questions about the match and your experience so far.”

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Okay, shoot.”

Heeseung, after asking for permission, opened up his phone to record, stating his name and year, “This is Lee Heeseung, sophomore journalism major interviewing freshman L/N F/N, sports sciences major on the fencing team.” His first few questions were straightforward, focusing on the match itself—your thoughts going into it, how you prepared, and how you felt about the win. You answered easily, the details of the match still fresh in your mind.

Then he shifted gears. “So, Y/N, you’ve been balancing fencing with school and work. That’s a lot on your plate. How do you manage it all?”

You thought about it for a moment, considering how to articulate what often felt like a delicate juggling act. “It’s definitely not easy. There are days when it feels like too much, but I guess it’s all about priorities. Fencing is something I’m passionate about, so even when it gets tough, I remind myself why I’m doing it. And with school, it’s about time management. The job is a necessity, but I’ve found a rhythm that works for me.”

Heeseung nodded as he scribbled down your response, his expression thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve found a balance, even if it’s not perfect. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on other parts of college life because of it?”

You smiled wryly, recognizing the truth in his question. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I don’t get to go to as many parties or hang out as much as some of my friends do. But I’m okay with that. I’ve met some great people through fencing and work, and they make it worth it.”

Heeseung looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes with a curious gaze. “Do you think fencing has changed you? Like, in terms of how you see yourself or how you handle things?”

The question caught you off guard, making you pause. “Yeah, I think it has,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “Fencing’s taught me a lot about discipline and patience. It’s also made me more resilient. When you’re out there on the piste, it’s just you and your opponent, and you have to trust in your own abilities. That confidence carries over into other areas of my life.”

Heeseung’s pen scratched across the paper as he took down your words, nodding slightly as he wrote. When he finished, he looked back at you with a small, approving smile. “That was great, Y/N. You’re a natural. I might have to steal you for these more often.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, the kind of affirmation that felt both surprising and welcome. “Thanks, Heeseung. I appreciate that.”

He closed his notebook, signaling the end of the interview. “I think I’ve got everything I need for now. I’ll probably follow up with you later, once I start putting the article together.”

“Sure, anytime,” you said, standing up from the bench as he did the same.

As you walked back toward the main area of the gym, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The match had gone well, and now you’d gotten through the interview, which, instead of being daunting, had felt more like a conversation with someone who genuinely wanted to understand your perspective.

Before you could say anything more, Heeseung spoke up. “By the way, I’m really looking forward to writing this piece. It’s been my favorite for the semester. I think it’s going to turn out well.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation mixed with curiosity. “I’m looking forward to reading it.”

With that, Heeseung gave you a small wave and headed off, likely to interview some of your teammates. You watched him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions—pride from the match, a sense of accomplishment from the interview, and something else, something unspoken, that lingered in the air between you.

As the day’s events began to wind down, you rejoined your friends, who were still celebrating the win. But even as you laughed and joked with them, your mind kept drifting back to that quiet corner of the gym, where Heeseung had asked you questions that made you think about yourself in ways you hadn’t before.

Winter was settling in, but for the first time in a while, you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. It was a warmth born from connection—both with your teammates and, increasingly, with the boy who was slowly becoming a regular part of your world.

The semester drew to a close like the final chapter of a long, exhausting novel. You could practically feel the collective sigh of relief that swept through campus as students completed their last exams and handed in their final projects. The late nights spent pouring over textbooks and notes, the endless hours in the library, and the nerve-wracking presentations were all behind you now. You’d managed to finish your literature project with Taehyun, and the fencing season had temporarily wound down, giving you a much-needed break.

With the academic pressures lifting, you found yourself with some rare free time. But rather than taking it easy, you decided to make the most of the lull by picking up extra shifts at the café. It was a chance to earn some money and keep yourself busy. The rhythm of work was comforting, almost meditative. The familiar sounds of the espresso machine, the chatter of customers, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee became the backdrop to your days.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the café, Heeseung walked in. He had become a more regular presence in your life, not just as the guy who showed up at the café but as someone who seemed to understand the balancing act you were constantly performing. Today, though, there was something different in his expression—a hint of concern.

He approached the counter, a small smile playing on his lips. “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?”

You returned the smile, wiping your hands on a towel before turning your full attention to him. “Hey, Heeseung. It’s going. The semester’s finally over, so that’s a relief.”

He nodded, his eyes scanning your face as if he was searching for something. “Yeah, I can imagine. But shouldn’t you be relaxing now? You’ve been working pretty hard all semester.”

You shrugged, a light laugh escaping you. “Maybe, but I’d rather keep busy. Plus, I could use the extra cash.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed slightly as he leaned against the counter. “You know, there’s such a thing as overworking yourself. It’s okay to take a break, especially after everything you’ve been through with school and fencing.”

His words were gentle, but they hit a bit too close to home. You’d been running on adrenaline for so long that the idea of slowing down felt foreign, almost uncomfortable. “I guess,” you said, brushing off the concern with a casual tone. “But I’m fine, really. I’ve got a rhythm, and it works for me.”

Heeseung didn’t push further, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, he let it go, changing the subject to lighter topics. The two of you chatted about the latest campus gossip, upcoming holiday plans, and the unusually mild winter weather. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Heeseung.

As the afternoon stretched on, the café began to empty out, leaving just a few lingering customers. You noticed Heeseung glance at his watch a couple of times, and you wondered if he had somewhere else to be. But instead of leaving, he stayed, sipping on his coffee and occasionally jotting something down in his notebook.

Finally, as you were wiping down the counter, he spoke up again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Hey, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You looked up, curious. “What’s up?”

Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, a small, almost shy smile appearing on his face. “So, a few of my friends and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night. Just a small thing to celebrate the end of the semester, and an excuse to drink of course. I was wondering if you’d like to come? I mean, if I can drag you away from this place.”

The question caught you off guard, but in a good way. You hadn’t expected an invitation, especially from someone like Heeseung, who seemed so composed and focused. “Oh,” you said, taking a moment to process. “Who else is going?”

“Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay,” he replied, listing off the names with ease. “You know Jay, right? He mentioned you guys have mutual friends.”

You nodded, recognizing the names. Sunghoon and Jake were familiar faces, mostly through Jay, though you hadn’t spent much time with them. Still, the idea of a night out with them sounded appealing, especially after the stress of the last few weeks.

“I’d love to,” you said, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, the hesitation in his demeanor dissolving into something warmer, more relaxed. “Great. We’re meeting at 7:00, at that new Korean barbecue place near campus. I’ll text you the details.”

“Perfect,” you said, returning his smile. “I’ll see you there.”

As Heeseung gathered his things and left the café, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. It wasn’t just the idea of dinner with new people; it was the prospect of spending more time with Heeseung, of seeing him outside the usual confines of the café and campus. There was something about him that intrigued you, something that made you want to know more.

Later that evening, as you closed up the café, your mind drifted back to the conversation. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were allowing yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t related to school or fencing. The semester was over, the projects were wrapped up, and for a brief moment, you had a chance to just be.

The evening air was crisp, the winter chill biting gently at your cheeks as you stepped out of your dorm. You wrapped your scarf a little tighter around your neck, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t often that you went out like this, especially with people you didn’t know well, but the prospect of spending time with Heeseung and meeting his friends felt like a welcome change.

You had taken your time getting ready, opting for something that struck a balance between casual and put-together—a simple sweater and jeans, paired with your favorite boots. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make you feel confident. As you walked toward the restaurant, your breath puffing out in small clouds, you couldn’t help but think about how different tonight felt from your usual routine.

The Korean barbecue place was bustling when you arrived, the warm glow of the interior lights spilling out onto the street. You spotted Heeseung immediately; he was waiting just outside the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. When he saw you approaching, a smile spread across his face, but there was something else there too—a hint of nervousness you hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice warm as he stepped closer. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, smiling back at him. “Are your friends here?”

Heeseung nodded, gesturing toward the door. “Yeah, they’re inside. I wanted to wait for you, though.”

His words made your heart flutter just a little, and you couldn’t help but notice how he held the door open for you, waiting for you to step in before following. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.

Inside, the restaurant was lively, the sound of sizzling meat and laughter filling the air. The warmth of the room was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, and as you followed Heeseung to the table, you took in the scene around you. Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay were already seated, chatting casually as they waited.

Jay spotted you first, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Y/N, finally! We were starting to think Heeseung got lost on the way.”

You laughed, sliding into the seat next to Heeseung while Jay winked at you from across the table. “Not lost, just taking my time.”

“Good to see you again,” Jake said, his voice sweet and bubbly, as if the weight of the world had never touched him. He raised his glass in greeting. “Welcome to the party.”

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was more reserved. He offered you a polite nod, his expression guarded, though not unfriendly. You noticed that while he wasn’t as outgoing as the others, he had a quiet presence. He seemed content to let the others lead the conversation, though you caught him glancing at you a few times, as if he was trying to gauge what kind of person you were.

The first round of food arrived quickly, and the table was soon filled with the savory aroma of grilling meat and a variety of side dishes. Conversation flowed easily as everyone started eating, with Jay taking the lead, as usual, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light. Jake was quick to join in, his laughter infectious and genuine. Sunghoon remained mostly quiet, focusing on his food, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the evening progressed. The alcohol, as it often did, seemed to loosen him up a bit, and he began to engage more with the group, his responses still measured but less reserved.

“So, Y/N,” Jake said at one point, leaning forward slightly, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Heeseung mentioned you’re on the fencing team. How’s that going?”

You paused, glancing at Heeseung, who was watching you with that same soft smile. “It’s been good. We had a couple of big matches recently, and the team’s been doing well. It’s a lot of work, but I love it.”

Jake nodded enthusiastically. “That’s awesome! I’ve always thought fencing seemed really cool. And tough. I can barely keep up with regular exercise, let alone something like that.”

You laughed, appreciating his genuine interest. “It definitely has its challenges, but it’s worth it. Keeps me busy, that’s for sure.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing more, enjoying the company and the atmosphere. Jay and Jake kept the conversation lively, and even Sunghoon began to open up more, sharing a few dry, witty remarks that made everyone laugh. You could tell that he had a different sense of humor, one that was more subtle and quiet, but just as sharp.

Heeseung, meanwhile, seemed a bit more reserved than usual, though he was always attentive to you. He made sure you had enough to eat, refilling your glass when it was low, and asking if you were comfortable. There was a certain gentleness in his actions, a thoughtfulness that didn’t go unnoticed.

At one point, as you were reaching for a piece of meat, your hand brushed against his. Heeseung froze for a second, then quickly pulled back, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. You glanced at him, amused by his reaction.

“Are you always this gentlemanly?” you teased, keeping your tone light.

Heeseung chuckled, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “Only when it’s deserved,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, and for a moment, the noise of the restaurant seemed to fade into the background. There was something about Heeseung that drew you in, something that made you want to know him better, beyond the casual interactions at the café.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable blur, the food and conversation blending together in a way that made time slip by unnoticed. By the time you all decided to call it a night, the restaurant had quieted down, the tables around you mostly empty.

As you all stood up to leave, Jay clapped Heeseung on the back, a mischievous grin on his face. “See? I told you she’d fit right in.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, his expression softening as he looked at you. “I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was fun.”

“Me too,” you replied, genuinely meaning it. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The group stepped out into the cold night, the breath of winter once again wrapping around you. You shivered slightly, pulling your scarf tighter, and noticed that Heeseung glanced at you, concern flashing briefly in his eyes.

“Do you want to walk back together?” he offered, his voice quiet but sincere.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his offer chase away the chill. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so, as the others went their separate ways, you and Heeseung started the walk back to campus. The streets were quiet, the city settling into its late-night rhythm. The conversation between you was unhurried, comfortable, as you talked about everything and nothing.

When you finally reached your building, you paused at the entrance, turning to face him. Heeseung smiled at you, his hands still tucked into his pockets, and for a moment, you hesitated, not wanting the night to end just yet. The thought of going back to your empty dorm, now that Chaehyun had gone home for break, felt a little too lonely.

“Heeseung,” you started, the words coming out a bit more hesitant than you intended, “would you like to come in? I mean, if you’re not in a rush to go anywhere.”

He blinked, clearly surprised by the offer, but his expression quickly softened into a warm smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You both headed inside, the warmth of the building a welcome contrast to the chill outside. As you made your way up to your floor, the quiet between you shifted slightly, a subtle tension building, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was more like the anticipation of something unspoken, something waiting just beneath the surface.

When you reached your door, you fumbled a bit with the keys, your nerves suddenly getting the better of you. But Heeseung was patient, standing close enough that you could feel the heat of him, though he kept a respectful distance.

Finally, you managed to unlock the door and pushed it open, stepping inside. The dorm was just as you’d left it, neat and tidy, but the absence of Chaehyun’s usual clutter made it feel strangely empty. You glanced around, suddenly aware of how quiet it was without your roommate’s presence.

“Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing for Heeseung to follow you in. He nodded, closing the door behind him as you kicked off your shoes and made your way to the small seating area by the window.

Heeseung settled onto the couch, his movements a bit more cautious than usual, as if he was still getting used to being in this more intimate setting. You sat down next to him, the space between you smaller than it had been at the restaurant. The proximity made your heart beat a little faster, the atmosphere between you charged with something unspoken.

“So,” Heeseung began, his voice softer now that you were indoors, “how does it feel to have the place to yourself?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s nice, I guess. But it’s also kind of weird. I’m used to having Chaehyun around, you know?”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze drifting around the room before landing back on you. “I get that. It’s different when it’s just you.”

There was something in the way he said it, an understanding that made you feel less self-conscious about your earlier hesitation. You smiled, appreciating his ability to put you at ease, even in moments like this.

The conversation flowed easily after that, drifting from one topic to another as the night deepened. You talked about the upcoming break, your plans—or lack thereof—and shared stories about school and fencing. Heeseung listened intently, occasionally adding his own thoughts, but mostly, he seemed content to just be there with you.

At some point, without either of you really noticing, the distance between you grew smaller. You were sitting closer now, your legs almost touching, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a warmth spreading through you.

The conversation began to slow, words trailing off as the comfortable silence returned. You could feel the tension building again, but this time, it wasn’t just anticipation. It was something more tangible, something that made your heart race and your thoughts scatter.

You turned to look at Heeseung, finding him already watching you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. You swallowed, suddenly nervous, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your gaze flickering to his lips, then back to his eyes.

Heeseung hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then he leaned in too, his breath warm against your skin as he closed the distance. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, Heeseung’s hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss just a little, the warmth between you growing.

You kissed him back, your own hand finding its way to his arm, holding on as if to ground yourself in the moment. The feeling of his lips against yours, the closeness of him, sent a rush of emotions through you—nervousness, excitement, something that felt a lot like relief.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, the air between you charged with something new. Heeseung’s eyes were bright, a small, slightly bashful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though the apology seemed more out of habit than necessity. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, your own smile matching his. “I’m glad you did.”

His smile widened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he relaxed back into the couch. You stayed close, the earlier nervousness fading into a quiet contentment. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with more words; the kiss had said enough.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening in the soft glow of the dorm lights, your conversations quieter now, punctuated by the occasional shared glance or gentle touch. It was as if the kiss had opened a door, and now you were both stepping through it, unsure of what lay ahead but willing to find out together.

When it was finally time for Heeseung to leave, he did so reluctantly, his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer. As he stepped out into the cold night, you stood at the door, watching him go, a warmth spreading through you.

You closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, a smile tugging at your lips. The night had turned out to be something entirely unexpected, something that you hadn’t planned for but were glad had happened.

And as you got ready for bed, the memory of the kiss still fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help but wish he had stayed and was now occupying the empty spot in the bed beside you.

Winter break passed in a blur of quiet days and familiar routines. You spent the first few days at home, the warmth of your family’s company wrapping around you like a comfortable blanket. The weather was cold, snow lightly dusting the streets, but inside, your home was filled with the smell of home-cooked meals, the sound of laughter, and the comforting presence of those you loved.

Your parents were happy to have you back, asking about school, your friends, and the fencing team. They seemed proud of everything you had accomplished so far, though they didn’t press too much about your social life, content with the knowledge that you were managing well on your own. Your siblings, were also a constant source of joy and sometimes annoyance, as they teased you about how serious you seemed whenever they caught you daydreaming.

But no matter how comforting home was, there was a part of you that couldn’t stop thinking about what—or rather, who—you had left behind at school. The memory of the kiss you shared with Heeseung lingered at the edges of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to push it away. Every time your mind wandered, it found its way back to that quiet evening in your dorm, the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the softness of his lips.

Heeseung had texted you a few times over the break, nothing serious—just a funny anecdote here, a quick check-in there. His messages were casual, light-hearted, but you could feel the underlying tension in every word. It was as if both of you were tiptoeing around something unspoken, neither of you willing to be the first to bring it up.

The days slipped by in a comfortable rhythm—family dinners, catching up with old friends, cozying up with a book or a movie during the long winter nights. But no matter what you were doing, you couldn’t shake the knowledge that something had shifted, something that would need to be addressed once you returned to campus.

When the break finally came to an end, you packed your bags with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. As much as you loved being home, there was a part of you that was eager to get back to school, back to your friends, back to the routine you had grown accustomed to. And, of course, back to Heeseung.

The campus felt different when you returned. The cold air was biting, the trees bare, and a layer of snow covered the ground. The holiday decorations were gone, replaced by the stark reality of winter. But there was also a sense of renewal in the air, as students filtered back in, ready for the new semester.

You settled back into your dorm, the familiar space welcoming you with its warmth. Chaehyun, who had returned a day earlier, greeted you with a hug, already bubbling over with stories about her break and her budding relationship with Minhee. The two of you spent the evening catching up, and although it felt good to be back with your roommate, there was still something very large and growing weighing on your mind.

The next day, you returned to your usual yet slightly new routine—classes, work at the café, and practice with the fencing team. Everything seemed the same, yet there was an undercurrent of something different. You saw your friends—Taehyun, Kai, Jay, and Chaeyoung—falling back into the old rhythms as if nothing had changed. Though Jay seemed to somehow knowingly keep asking her if she had seen Heeseung since her return to campus.

You didn’t see him immediately after your return, but you knew it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed. The thought made your stomach twist with a mix of anticipation and nerves. How would he act? Would things be awkward between you now, after what had happened? Or would everything go back to normal, as if that night in your dorm had never occurred?

The first time you saw him again was at the café, during one of your shifts. He walked in, just like he always did, his expression relaxed, though his eyes were searching, scanning the room until they landed on you. The moment your gazes met, something tightened in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“Hey,” Heeseung greeted you when he reached the counter, his voice as calm and collected as ever. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of uncertainty that mirrored your own feelings.

“Hey,” you replied, managing a smile despite the knot in your stomach. “Back at it, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding as he glanced around the café. “I guess we all are.”

The exchange was simple, casual, the way it had always been. But beneath the surface, there was something else—an unspoken question that neither of you seemed ready to address.

As you made his usual order, you couldn’t help but wonder how things had gotten so complicated. One kiss, and now everything felt different. But different didn’t necessarily mean bad, and you had to remind yourself of that.

Heeseung took his drink with a small smile, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back, your cheeks warming despite the cold weather outside.

“I’ll see you around,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” you replied, your own voice a little unsteady. “See you.”

He left the café, and you watched him go, your heart beating faster than it should have. The tension between you was thick, and it was clear that the kiss had changed things. But what that change meant, neither of you seemed ready to confront just yet.

The weeks that followed were a blur of activity—catching up on coursework, preparing for the upcoming fencing matches, late nights spent with your friends, and hours at the café. Your days were full, your schedule hectic, but through it all, your thoughts kept returning to Heeseung. You saw him often, both at the café and around campus, and every time, the same tension lingered between you.

There were moments when you almost brought it up, when the words were on the tip of your tongue, but each time, you hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. And Heeseung, for all his calmness, seemed to be in the same boat. The casual texts continued, the friendly exchanges at the café, but the subject of that night was never touched.

Instead, the two of you danced around it, waiting for the right moment to address the elephant in the room. But with each passing day, the tension only grew, the anticipation of what was to come hanging over you like a shadow.

Winter began to disappear, the days becoming longer and warming with the promise of spring around the corner. The campus was quiet, the energy of the new semester giving way to the steady grind of classes, assignments, and practices. You threw yourself into your work, into fencing, into anything that could distract you from the unresolved feelings swirling inside you.

But no matter how busy you kept yourself, the thoughts of Heeseung remained, a constant presence in the back of your mind. And with each encounter, each brief exchange, the tension between you became harder to ignore.

You knew that eventually, something would have to give, that the two of you would need to talk about what had happened. But for now, you kept it at bay, letting the weeks pass by in a blur, holding on to the hope that when the time came, you would both be ready to face whatever it was that lay ahead.

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime energy, the clatter of trays and the hum of conversations filling the air as you made your way to the table where Chaeyoung and Jay were already seated. You spotted them easily—Jay’s animated gestures and Chaeyoung’s bright laughter were hard to miss in the crowd.

As you approached, Jay waved you over with a grin. “Y/N, over here!”

You smiled, sliding into the seat across from them. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Not much,” Chaeyoung replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just trying to convince Jay that he can’t live off ramen alone.”

Jay rolled his eyes, dramatically shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. “You sound like my mom.”

The three of you laughed, the easy banter a welcome break from the usual stress of classes and fencing practice. As you dug into your food, you noticed Jay giving Chaeyoung a subtle nudge, his eyes flicking toward the entrance.

You turned to see what had caught their attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Heeseung walking toward your table. He was carrying a tray, his expression as casual as ever, but there was a slight uncertainty in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure if he was intruding.

“Heeseung!” Jay called out, waving him over. “Join us!”

Heeseung’s gaze met yours, and he smiled, the uncertainty in his eyes fading as he approached. “Hey,” he greeted, setting his tray down beside yours. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “The more, the merrier.”

As Heeseung settled in beside you, Jay and Chaeyoung exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable but not entirely innocent. You had a feeling they were up to something, but before you could question them, Jay spoke up.

“So, Heeseung,” Jay began, leaning forward slightly, “did Y/N tell you about her birthday this weekend?”

Your eyes widened, a mix of surprise and mild horror flashing through you. “Jay!”

“What?” Jay said, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eye betrayed him. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

Heeseung turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s your birthday this weekend?”

You sighed, shooting Jay a mock glare before nodding. “Yeah, it is. But it’s not a big deal or anything.”

“Not a big deal?” Chaeyoung scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s a huge deal. We’re throwing you a party, whether you like it or not.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your true feelings. “Okay, okay, fine. But don’t make it sound like some grand event.”

Jay grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Too late.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “A party, huh? Sounds like fun.”

There was a moment of hesitation before you spoke, a slight nervousness in your chest as you glanced at him. “You should come. If you’re not busy, I mean.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, the invitation clearly catching him off guard in the best way. “I’d love to. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Great!” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together. “It’s going to be so much fun. We’ll have food, drinks, music—the whole shebang.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “And now that Heeseung’s coming, it’s officially a party.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the earlier tension melting away as the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics. Despite Jay’s “accidental” reveal, you found yourself looking forward to the weekend more than you had expected.

As lunch went on, you noticed how easily Heeseung fit in with your friends. He was still a bit more reserved than Jay and Chaeyoung, but he joined in on the jokes, adding his own dry humor to the mix. And every now and then, you’d catch him glancing at you, a soft smile on his lips that made your heart flutter.

When lunch ended, and you all went your separate ways, Heeseung walked with you toward your next class. The conversation between you was light, but there was an underlying warmth that hadn’t been there before—a new level of comfort that you hadn’t realized you’d reached.

As you parted ways, Heeseung gave you a small wave, his smile lingering as he turned to head to his class. You watched him go, a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness bubbling up inside you. The thought of spending more time with him, of having him at your party, filled you with a sense of excitement you hadn’t expected.

The night of your birthday party at Ryujin’s off-campus apartment started with a mix of excitement and anticipation. Ryujin had outdone herself, turning the place into a cozy, festive spot perfect for a low-key celebration. Streamers hung from the ceiling, and fairy lights twinkled against the walls. The living room buzzed with the energy of your friends, some of whom you saw regularly, while others were more like friendly acquaintances. Everyone was in high spirits, eager to celebrate.

You moved through the room, a drink in hand, exchanging smiles and hugs. Gaeul, your teammate, had handed you a brightly colored drink that tasted suspiciously like it had more alcohol than fruit juice, and she watched with a grin as you took a sip.

"Careful with that one," she warned, winking. "It might knock you out before the night even starts."

You laughed, setting the drink down on a nearby table. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Chaehyun, your roommate, was nearby, introducing you to a couple of her friends from class, Chaeryeong and Yunjin. They were friendly and already deep in conversation with Kai and Minhee. It felt nice to have everyone together, the lines between different friend groups blurring as the night went on.

Jay, who had arrived early to help set up, was making his way through the crowd, chatting up anyone who would listen to his latest story. You caught his eye, and he grinned, making a beeline for you.

"Having fun, birthday girl?" he asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

"So far, so good," you replied, smiling up at him. "Thanks for helping with all this."

"Anything for you," Jay said with a wink, though his attention quickly shifted as he spotted someone new entering the room. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up!"

You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip a beat. Heeseung had just walked in, looking slightly flustered as he scanned the room. When his eyes landed on you, a small smile tugged at his lips, and he made his way over.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Heeseung said, holding out a small, neatly wrapped gift.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said, accepting the gift with a grin. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He shrugged, his smile easy. “It’s nothing big. Just thought you might like it.”

Before you could respond, Jay interrupted, nudging you both. “We’re about to start a game. You two in?”

“What kind of game?” Heeseung asked, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

Jay’s grin was almost wicked. “Oh, just a little something to spice up the night. ‘Never Have I Ever,’ but with a twist.”

Heeseung looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “What’s the twist?”

“If you’ve done something, you take a shot,” Jay explained, his grin widening. “But if you haven’t, you have to answer a truth question. No dodging, no skipping turns.”

You exchanged a glance with Heeseung, who looked amused but not entirely convinced. “Sure, why not?” you said, giving Jay a challenging look. “This should be fun.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m in.”

Ryujin and the others had already started pulling chairs into a circle, setting out shots of soju. You and Heeseung found seats next to each other, with Jay taking the spot directly across from you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

The game started off relatively tame, with questions about skipping class and sneaking into movies. A few rounds in, and everyone was laughing, swapping stories of their more rebellious moments. You noticed Heeseung hadn’t taken a shot yet, answering truth questions with a cool demeanor that only made you more curious about him.

Then it was Jay’s turn again, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Alright, let’s see… Never have I ever… skipped class to go on a date.”

A murmur of interest went around the circle. You glanced at Heeseung out of the corner of your eye, but to your surprise, he didn’t reach for his drink. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, looking almost smug.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? Not even once?”

Heeseung shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nope. But feel free to ask your truth question.”

Jay’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ve got a good one. What’s the most ridiculous reason you’ve ever skipped class?”

Heeseung thought for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Well, there was that time I skipped because I was trying to catch this rare Pokémon that only appeared on campus at a certain time.”

The room erupted into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re kidding,” you said, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t clocked him of being a dork under his cool and mysterious exterior.

Heeseung shrugged, a little sheepish. “Hey, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

Jay was practically cackling at this point. “And did you catch it?”

Heeseung nodded, deadpan. “Yes, I did. Worth every missed lecture.”

The game continued, with the questions growing more and more outrageous. Chaehyun ended up confessing to a particularly embarrassing childhood crush, while Kai revealed that he’d once tried—and failed—to pull off a heist involving the school cafeteria’s dessert stash.

The night was filled with laughter and teasing, and it wasn’t long before everyone was a little tipsy. At one point, Ryujin suggested they switch to a different game, but you noticed Heeseung was looking a bit out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the increasingly bold questions.

Sensing an opportunity, you leaned over and whispered, “Wanna get some fresh air?”

Heeseung looked relieved and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You stood up, motioning for Jay to keep things going without you. He gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything, just raised his glass in a silent toast. You rolled your eyes at him before leading Heeseung out onto the balcony.

The cool night air was a welcome change from the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the noise of the party was muffled out here, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of relative quiet.

“This is nice,” Heeseung said, leaning against the railing. “Thanks for the escape.”

“Anytime,” you replied, leaning next to him. “I figured you might want a break from Jay’s interrogation.”

Heeseung chuckled. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You nodded, looking out at the city. “He means well, though. Just likes to stir the pot.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind where neither of you felt the need to fill it with words. You glanced at Heeseung, and he met your gaze, his expression thoughtful.

“You’re good at this,” he said softly, almost like he was thinking out loud.

“At what?” you asked, curious.

“Making people feel comfortable,” Heeseung replied, his voice warm. “It’s… nice.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words. “You’re pretty easy to talk to yourself, you know.”

Heeseung smiled, and for a moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink. You could feel the tension, the quiet pull of attraction that had been building over the past few weeks. Heeseung seemed to sense it too, his eyes flickering to your lips before he leaned in slightly, almost instinctively.

Just as you both started to close the distance, the door to the balcony burst open, and Jake stumbled out, laughing loudly at something from inside.

“Oh, sorry!” Jake said, not really sounding sorry at all. “Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You and Heeseung quickly pulled back, both of you laughing awkwardly. Jake gave you a grin, completely oblivious to the moment he’d just ruined.

“Ryujin’s looking for you, Y/N,” Jake said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Something about a cake?”

“Right, the cake,” you said, nodding. “Thanks, Jake.”

Heeseung gave you a small, understanding smile as you both turned to head back inside. The moment had passed, but the underlying connection was still there, unspoken but undeniable.

As you rejoined the party, Ryujin was indeed waiting for you with a cake in hand, everyone gathering around to sing happy birthday. The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and good-natured teasing, and though you and Heeseung didn’t get another moment alone, there was a new understanding between you, a shared secret that made the night feel just a little bit more special.

As the party wound down and people started to leave, Heeseung caught your eye one last time, giving you a small smile before he left with Jake and Sunghoon. You watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness about all of the unspoken and what could’ve been on the balcony just hours prior.

It started with the alarm that didn’t go off. The shrill beeping you depended on had decided to take a day off, and by the time you jolted awake, it was already half an hour later than you needed. Panic set in as you scrambled out of bed, tripping over the tangled mess of your sheets, and hurriedly throwing on whatever clothes you could find. Chaehyun was already gone, leaving you in the quiet chaos of your room, the day off to a rough start.

Fencing practice was the next disaster. You were already flustered by the time you arrived, barely on time, and it showed. Your footwork was sloppy, your attacks lacked precision, and the more frustrated you got, the worse it became. Ryujin noticed, of course—she always did.

“You’re out of sync today,” she said, her tone a mix of concern and criticism as she watched you flounder through another round.

“I know,” you muttered, teeth gritted as you tried to shake off the growing sense of defeat. But it was no use; nothing was going right. You kept messing up drills you’d mastered ages ago, each mistake a sharp sting of embarrassment. By the end of practice, you were practically shaking with frustration, and it took everything in you to hold back tears.

It wasn’t just fencing, though. Your grades, which you’d managed to keep steady despite your packed schedule, were starting to slip. The latest exam, one you thought you’d done reasonably well on, came back with a grade lower than you’d expected. The red ink on the paper felt like a slap in the face, the professor’s comments blurring as you stared at them, trying to make sense of where you went wrong. It was a blow to your confidence, and you felt the cracks in your carefully maintained composure widening.

Midterms loomed, casting a shadow over everything. The stress was building, a constant pressure in the back of your mind. You could feel the weight of it all, the expectation to perform well, to balance everything perfectly. But instead of rising to the challenge, you felt like you were barely holding on, the threads of your routine unraveling bit by bit.

Then came work. You were late, of course—stumbling through the door of the coffee shop a full fifteen minutes past your shift’s start time. Your boss, a stern woman with little patience for tardiness, was waiting for you behind the counter, arms crossed.

“Y/N, this is the third time this month,” she said, her voice clipped. “You can’t keep showing up late like this. We depend on you to be here on time.”

“I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to keep the wobble out of your voice. “It won’t happen again.”

But she wasn’t in the mood for apologies. “It better not. We need reliability, Y/N. If you can’t manage your time, maybe you need to reconsider your hours.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. The scolding was just the cherry on top of an already terrible day, and you could feel yourself breaking down, the weight of everything crashing down on you at once. You threw yourself into your work, trying to distract yourself, but the knot in your chest only tightened as the minutes ticked by.

It was mid-afternoon when Heeseung walked in. He came in as he usually did, with that quiet, unassuming presence that made him easy to overlook—except you never overlooked him. Today, though, you barely registered his entrance. You were wiping down the counter, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, your thoughts a whirl of self-doubt and frustration.

You didn’t notice him until he was standing right in front of you, his usual order on the tip of his tongue. But when you looked up at him, the dam finally broke. The tears you’d been holding back all day spilled over, and you quickly turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice was soft, concerned. He hesitated before speaking again. “Are you okay?”

It was such a simple question, but it was enough to undo you completely. You tried to brush it off, to muster some kind of excuse, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs you were trying so desperately to suppress.

“Hey, hey,” Heeseung said, his voice full of concern now. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. But Heeseung wasn’t deterred. He reached out, his hand gently touching your arm. The small gesture of kindness undid you completely.

“I’m just…” You managed to choke out the words between sobs. “It’s just been a really bad day.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed with worry, and he glanced around the cafe. It was quiet, with only a couple of customers seated far from the counter starting to try and discreetly turn their heads to look at you. He took a deep breath, then leaned in closer.

“Let me take you for a quick walk,” he suggested. “You need a break.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the back room where your boss was probably busy. The thought of getting scolded again made you cringe, but Heeseung was already taking your hand, leading you out from behind the counter.

“Just for a minute,” he insisted, his tone leaving little room for argument.

The fresh air hit you like a slap, but it also helped clear your head a little. Heeseung guided you down the street, keeping a firm but gentle hold on your hand. He didn’t say anything at first, just let you cry, his presence steady and comforting.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess right now,” you muttered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Heeseung replied, his voice soft. “Everyone has bad days.”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just… everything’s piling up. Fencing, school, work… I feel like I’m failing at all of it.”

Heeseung frowned, clearly troubled by your words. “You’re not failing. You’re just dealing with a lot right now.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “I wish I felt that way.”

Heeseung squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to do it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to ask for help.”

The sincerity in his voice almost brought fresh tears to your eyes, but you managed to hold them back. You nodded, feeling a little better, though still weighed down by everything.

As you continued walking, the weight on your chest didn’t seem to lift entirely. The day wasn’t just bad because of fencing or school; it was deeper than that, a gnawing homesickness you hadn’t fully acknowledged. Your thoughts drifted to your family, the ache of missing them growing sharper with each step.

“I missed my brother’s birthday,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “He just turned six. I couldn’t even call him because I was too busy with exams and practice. I feel like a terrible sister.”

Heeseung stopped, turning to face you with a look of understanding that made your heart clench. “That doesn’t make you a bad sister. It’s hard being away from family, especially when you’re trying to juggle so much. But I’m sure your brother knows you care about him.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just feel so… disconnected from everything. Like I’m here, but my heart is still back home with them.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, and without a word, he pulled you into a hug. It was the first time he’d hugged you, and the warmth of it took you by surprise. You hesitated for a moment before leaning into him, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. It wasn’t just about the bad day anymore; it was about everything you’d been holding in—the homesickness, the loneliness, the pressure to be perfect.

“It’s okay to miss them,” Heeseung murmured, his voice close to your ear. “And it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. But you’re not alone, Y/N. You have people here who care about you, too.”

His words, coupled with the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, made you feel a little less alone, a little more understood. You stayed like that for a few moments longer, until the worst of your tears had dried and you felt like you could breathe again.

You lingered in Heeseung's embrace a moment longer, taking in the warmth and steady reassurance of his hold. But as you began to pull away, the reality of the moment hit you, and suddenly, the air between you felt charged, different. When you looked up at him, you noticed that he seemed just as affected, his usual calm demeanor tinged with a slight awkwardness.

Heeseung's hands slipped from your back, hovering uncertainly at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. His gaze flickered away from yours, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Um, yeah,” he stammered, taking a small step back to create some distance. “We should probably get you back inside… before your boss sends out a search party.”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of comfort and confusion as you noticed his hesitation. There was something unspoken between you, a tension that hadn’t been there before. It made you suddenly hyper-aware of how close you’d been, how natural it had felt to be in his arms, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

“Yeah, right,” you agreed, your voice coming out softer than you intended. You both stood there for a moment longer, the silence between you making it hard to move.

Heeseung cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s, uh… let’s get back in there,” he said, offering a small, almost nervous smile as he gestured toward the cafe door.

You nodded again, trying to shake off the lingering tension. As you walked back inside together, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted, something you weren’t quite ready to name yet. And when you returned to your post behind the counter, you found yourself stealing glances at Heeseung as he quietly ordered his usual, both of you a bit more aware of each other than before.

You had known it was a setup from the moment Chaehyun suggested the theme park. She’d brought it up casually during lunch a few days earlier, her tone almost too nonchalant as she insisted it would be “fun to go as a group.” The twinkle in her eye had told you all you needed to know—this was no innocent group outing; this was a double date, carefully orchestrated with Minhee and Heeseung as the leading men.

Saturday came around with clear skies and a cool breeze, perfect weather for a day at the park. You stood in front of your dorm mirror, adjusting the hem of your sweater—a soft and creamy beige that complemented your dark jeans. Your hair was loosely tied back, a few dark strands escaping to frame your face. You’d opted for a casual, comfortable look, but there was an extra layer of care in your appearance today, and you couldn’t help but feel the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about spending the day with Heeseung.

Chaehyun was already waiting outside, her usual bubbly self. She looked effortlessly cute in a pastel pink hoodie and a pleated skirt, her long hair falling in waves around her shoulders. When she saw you, she beamed, linking her arm through yours.

“You look so pretty!” she gushed, giving you a playful nudge. “Heeseung’s going to love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “I’m not dressing up for him,” you lied, though the quickening of your pulse said otherwise.

Chaehyun didn’t buy it for a second, but she let it slide. As the two of you made your way to the entrance of the park, you spotted Heeseung and Minhee waiting near the ticket booth. Heeseung was dressed in a simple black pullover and jeans, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. He looked casual but undeniably handsome, and your heart did a little flip when he looked up and met your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

Minhee, standing beside him, was as well-dressed as ever. He wore a navy blue jacket over a white t-shirt, his expression relaxed and easygoing. He greeted you with a warm smile as you approached, his hand already intertwined with Chaehyun’s.

“Ready for a fun day?” Minhee asked, his tone light as he gave Chaehyun a quick peck on the cheek.

Chaehyun blushed, giggling as she nudged him playfully. “Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Heeseung, who shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Guess we’re in for an interesting day,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

As you all headed into the park, the atmosphere was a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The sounds of laughter and screams from nearby rides filled the air, and the scent of popcorn and cotton candy wafted through the breeze. The four of you stuck together, moving from ride to ride, each one more thrilling than the last.

“So, do you only own black clothes? Is this like some sort of statement?” You poked fun at Heeseung’s typical attire.

“Just for you,” He teased back with a wink.

It wasn’t until you reached the ride with the large circular seating area—a notorious challenge to stay seated in—that things took a more interesting turn. The ride was infamous for its sudden drops and spins, designed to send everyone sliding toward the center, no matter how hard they tried to stay put.

You hesitated for a moment as you looked at the ride, the large circular rimmed seating area intimidating in its simplicity. “This is going to be a disaster,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement that accompanied the thought.

Chaehyun, already seated with Minhee, shot you a grin. “Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

Heeseung was right behind you, and as you took your seat next to him, the ever-present tension between you seemed to magnify. The ride started with a slow spin, the deceptively calm beginning lulling you into a false sense of security. But soon, the speed picked up, and before you knew it, you were sliding uncontrollably toward the center.

You tried to brace yourself, but the force was too strong, and you found yourself being pulled off your seat. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips as you lost your balance, but before you could fall completely, Heeseung’s arm shot out, grabbing onto your waist.

The contact sent a jolt through you, the warmth of his hand on your waist grounding you in a way that was both comforting and electrifying. You clung to the edge of your seat, but the ride’s relentless spinning kept pushing you closer to Heeseung. Eventually, you gave up trying to fight it and let yourself lean into him, his arm still securely around your waist. Despite the electricity floating through your body, you couldn’t help but laugh. Throwing your head back, you looked at the boy pressed into your side, his widened eyes taking in your laughter and returning it.

When the ride finally came to a stop, you were breathless, both from the adrenaline and from the proximity to Heeseung. He helped you off the ride, his hand lingering on your waist a moment longer than necessary before he let go, a sheepish smile on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart still racing. “Thanks for the save.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light, though there was a flicker of something more in his eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, shared snacks, and playful teasing. Chaehyun and Minhee were in their own world, holding hands and stealing kisses, while you and Heeseung found yourselves caught in a dance of subtle flirtation. There were moments when your hands would brush as you reached for the same snack, or when your eyes would meet across the table, the unspoken tension between you growing with each passing hour.

At one point, as you all gathered around a table to share a meal, Minhee nudged Chaehyun, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. You shot them a suspicious look, but before you could ask what they were up to, Heeseung leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“I think they’re planning something,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Probably,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure we can handle it.”

The day stretched into the evening, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and pink. As the park began to quiet down, the four of you decided to take one last ride on the Ferris wheel, the giant structure offering a perfect view of the park illuminated by twinkling lights.

You found yourself seated next to Heeseung in the small carriage, the ride slow and gentle compared to the chaotic one earlier. The height gave you a breathtaking view of the city beyond, but your attention was more focused on the boy sitting next to you, his profile highlighted by the golden glow of the sunset.

Heeseung turned to you, his expression softer than you’d seen all day. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice equally soft. “More than I expected.”

“Good,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad we came.”

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. You felt the urge to say something, to break the tension that had been building all day, but before you could, the carriage came to a stop at the top of the Ferris wheel, giving you both a moment of stillness.

Heeseung glanced at you, his gaze lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. The sight made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness.

Just as you were about to say something, the moment was interrupted by Chaehyun’s voice, calling out from the carriage below. “Y/N! Heeseung! What’s taking you so long up there?”

The ride jolted back into motion, slowly lowering you back to the ground. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at Chaehyun’s timing. When you looked back at Heeseung, he was smiling too, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

As the four of you made your way out of the park, the night air cool against your skin, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between you and Heeseung. The day had been full of fun and laughter, but there was a deeper connection forming, one that you were both cautiously exploring.

As you parted ways at the entrance, Heeseung caught your hand for a brief moment, his touch gentle but firm. “Let’s do this again sometime,” he spoke softly, his voice sincere.

You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “I’d like that.”

With a final smile, Heeseung let go of your hand and turned to walk away in the opposite direction from the one you were heading towards, leaving you to join Minhee and Chaehyun as they headed toward the bus stop.

The sound of your blade slicing through the air echoes in the nearly empty gym. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal and the soft scuffle of your footwork are the only noises breaking the silence. It’s late, later than usual for practice, but you’ve been putting in extra hours, trying to perfect your technique before the upcoming tournament.

You’ve just finished a set of lunges when the gym door creaks open. You look up, expecting to see one of your teammates, but it’s Heeseung, hovering in the doorway with his usual quiet presence. His camera bag is slung over one shoulder, and he gives you a tentative smile, as if unsure whether he’s intruding.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you say, catching your breath.

Heeseung steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Thought I’d come by for some last-minute insights for the article,” he says, tapping the side of his bag. “But it looks like you’re flying solo tonight.”

You nod, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Yeah, everyone else is either cramming for exams or getting some rest before the big match. But I needed to clear my head.”

Heeseung watches as you place your saber on the rack, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There’s something different in the way he looks at you tonight—more intent, more focused. It makes your heart beat a little faster.

“Wanna see what it’s like?” you ask suddenly, the idea forming as the words leave your mouth.

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, caught off guard. “You mean... fence?”

“Why not?” you challenge, already heading toward the gear closet. “You’re writing about it. Might as well experience it firsthand.”

He hesitates, but there’s a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I’m not exactly athletic,” he warns, even as he moves to follow you.

You grin, tossing him a chest protector and jacket. “That’s okay. I’ll go easy on you.”

It takes a few minutes to get him suited up—chest protector, jacket, mask—and you have to suppress a laugh at how awkward he looks in the gear. But there’s something endearing about the way he fumbles with the straps, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.

“Ready?” you ask, holding out a saber to him.

Heeseung takes it, testing its weight with a cautious swing. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You both take your positions on the piste, the lines on the floor suddenly feeling much narrower with Heeseung across from you. His stance is stiff, awkward—nothing like the fluidity and precision you’ve honed over years of practice. But you can’t help but admire his willingness to try.

You advance slowly, giving him time to adjust. He attempts a feeble parry, which you easily dodge, your blade tapping his chest protector with a soft thud.

“Point,” you say, grinning under your mask. “But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

Heeseung groans, adjusting his grip. “You sure you’re going easy on me?”

You shrug, preparing for another advance. “Maybe just a little.”

You move in again, a bit faster this time, and Heeseung reacts instinctively, swinging his blade up in a wild arc. It’s completely off-target, and in his attempt to recover, he loses his balance, stumbling into you.

Before you can react, you’re both crashing to the ground, Heeseung’s weight knocking you off your feet. You land with a soft thud, your sabers clattering to the floor beside you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your combined laughter echoing through the empty gym.

You roll onto your back, still laughing, and Heeseung does the same, the awkwardness of earlier forgotten. Lying there on the cold gym floor, you’re suddenly aware of how close he is, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“You’re terrible at this,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Heeseung chuckles, turning his head to look at you. His hair is a mess from the mask, and his cheeks are flushed with exertion. “Guess I should stick to writing.”

You’re both still catching your breath, the amusement lingering between you, when the overhead lights suddenly flicker off, plunging the gym into darkness.

You both freeze, the sudden shift in atmosphere catching you off guard. The only light now comes from the emergency exit signs, casting long shadows across the gym floor. In the quiet, you can hear the faint hum of electricity and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Heeseung says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper in the darkness.

But neither of you moves. The silence stretches, the moment growing heavier, more charged. You can feel the warmth of Heeseung’s arm against yours, the proximity sending a thrill through you that’s hard to ignore.

“Maybe,” you whisper back, turning slightly toward him, though you can barely make out his features in the dim light.

There’s a beat of hesitation, the air between you thick with anticipation, before Heeseung shifts closer, his hand brushing against yours, fingers almost—almost—entwining. But just as quickly, he pulls back, the tension breaking like a snapped thread.

“We should probably get up,” he says, voice low, and there’s a note of something—regret, maybe?—that you can’t quite place.

You sit up, the moment slipping away, but the feeling of his touch lingers, a ghost of what might have been. You help each other to your feet, the earlier playfulness replaced by a quiet, unspoken understanding.

As you strip off the gear and pack everything away, the silence continues, comfortable but charged, both of you aware of what didn’t happen but too uncertain to acknowledge it.

“Thanks for indulging me,” Heeseung finally says as you walk toward the exit, the gym door creaking open to the dimly lit hallway beyond.

“Anytime,” you reply, forcing a smile, though your thoughts are still back on the gym floor, replaying the almost-touch of his hand.

You part ways in the hallway, Heeseung giving you a small wave before disappearing down the corridor. You stand there for a moment, staring after him, before turning to head back to your dorm, the ghost of the evening’s events haunting your steps.

As you walk away, you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if the lights had stayed on just a little longer.

The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the air thick with excitement and tension. It was the third fencing tournament of the semester, and the stakes were high. You stood in the wings, your saber gleaming under the harsh gym lights, heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and nerves. Your team’s performance today would determine whether you advanced to the finals, and the pressure was almost tangible.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the rhythmic patterns of the bout you were about to face. Ryujin and Gaeul were already competing, their focused expressions and swift movements a testament to their skill and determination. You glanced over at them, offering a reassuring nod. They returned it, their expressions masked by their own concentration.

Heeseung was among the crowd, his usual spot near the fencing area where he could get a clear view of the matches. He had become a familiar presence at these tournaments, his keen eyes always scanning the piste with an almost analytical focus. Today, he was positioned just a few feet from the sidelines, notebook in hand, ready to capture the essence of the day’s action. You caught his eye briefly and offered a small, nervous smile. He responded with a warm, encouraging nod.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of your individual match. Your opponent, a formidable competitor from another school, greeted you with a determined look. The match commenced with a flurry of movement. You engaged with swift, practiced attacks and counters, each move precise and deliberate. The crowd’s murmurs and the rhythmic clang of sabers filled your ears as you focused intently on your strategy.

Minutes ticked by as the match intensified. Your opponent was relentless, pressing you hard, and you found yourself on the defensive. You could feel the strain in your legs and the tension in your shoulders as you fought to maintain your balance and composure. The energy in the gym was electric, and every touch was met with reactions from the audience—gasps, cheers, and murmurs of anticipation.

In a particularly aggressive exchange, you executed a move that you had practiced countless times. Your saber darted out, aiming for a decisive touch, but as you pivoted, your footing faltered. The floor, worn from numerous tournaments, betrayed you. Your right ankle twisted painfully, and before you could react, you stumbled and fell awkwardly. The world seemed to tilt as you hit the ground, a sharp, blinding pain radiating from your ankle.

The referee’s whistle pierced through the haze of pain, and the match was abruptly halted. The crowd’s noise faded into the background as you lay on the floor, clutching your ankle, struggling to steady your breath through the searing agony. Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain mingling with a deep sense of frustration and helplessness.

Heeseung, who had been taking notes at the sidelines, immediately sprang into action. His face was a mask of concern as he pushed through the crowd, his usual calm demeanor giving way to an urgent determination. His strides were quick and purposeful, his eyes locked onto you as he reached your side.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice a mix of worry and desperation. “Are you okay?”

You could barely manage a nod, the pain overwhelming your ability to speak. Heeseung’s hands were gentle but firm as he examined your injured ankle, his concern evident in every touch. The athletic trainers arrived quickly, their expressions reflecting the seriousness of the situation. They assessed your injury with practiced efficiency, their movements careful as they wrapped your ankle and prepared you for transport.

As they carefully lifted you onto a stretcher and began to move you towards the exit, Heeseung remained by your side, his presence a steadying force amid the chaos. He stayed close, offering words of comfort and reassurance, though his own face betrayed his anxiety.

The drive to the university hospital was a blur of pain and worry. You were transported from the gym to the emergency room, the pain in your ankle throbbing with each bump in the road. The reality of your situation was beginning to sink in, and the frustration of being sidelined from the tournament weighed heavily on you.

Upon arrival at the hospital, you were quickly ushered into an examination room. The medical staff worked efficiently, but the pain was still intense, and your emotions were frayed. The room was filled with the quiet beeps of medical equipment and the murmurs of the staff as they prepared to assess your injury. The medical staff worked efficiently, but the pain and the stress of the situation left you feeling utterly vulnerable. As the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but feel isolated in your distress.

Then, through the haze of your own pain, you caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway. Taehyun and Kai appeared, their faces etched with concern and relief as they spotted you. The sight of them, familiar and comforting, was a balm to your frayed nerves.

Their worried expressions immediately softened into empathetic smiles as they hurried over to your side. “Y/N, we saw what happened,” Taehyun said softly, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

The moment their voices reached you, the dam broke. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally cascaded down your cheeks, the emotional release of seeing your friends overwhelming. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The pain and frustration of the day, compounded by the sight of your friends, brought a torrent of emotion.

Kai reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice steady. “It’ll be okay.”

As you tried to compose yourself, you saw Heeseung standing just outside the doorway, his figure barely visible in the hallway. The sight of him only made the tears flow even harder.

Taehyun and Kai stayed by your side, offering comfort and reassurance. Some others arrived within the hour as you waited on the results from the X-Ray, Chaehyun was already near tears before entering the room and Jay attempted to joke with the small group, though there was evident difficulty. Heeseung, however, was nowhere to be found.

The bright lights of the hospital room cast an unyielding glare on your frustration. The pain in your ankle was relentless, a constant reminder of the day’s events. Your friends had been with you, offering their support, but they had left to grab dinner, promising to return soon. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional footfalls in the hallway.

You stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you. The nurse had just delivered the news: a fractured ankle that would require a boot for a few months but no surgery. The immediate relief of not needing surgery was overshadowed by the crushing realization that you would miss the rest of the fencing season. The dreams and aspirations for the semester seemed to crumble in the face of this new reality.

The door to your room opened slowly, and Heeseung slipped inside. His usually calm demeanor was tinged with concern. Seeing you alone and clearly distressed, he approached your bedside with a quiet urgency. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of genuine care. “How are you holding up?”

You tried to muster a smile, but it faltered. “It’s not good. The X-ray showed a fracture. I have to wear a boot for a few months. It means I’m out for the rest of the fencing season.”

Heeseung’s expression softened with empathy. He took a seat beside you, a small weighted sigh leaving his lips. “I’m really sorry to hear that,” he said gently. “I know how much fencing means to you.”

You nodded, feeling a lump rise in your throat. The reality of missing out on the season was hitting hard. “I worked so hard for this. The season was everything to me, and now I’m just… done. It’s like everything I’ve worked for is just slipping away.”

Heeseung reached out, his fingers delicately brushing down the side of your hair as he smoothed away some strands that had been stuck to your face with tears. You involuntarily flinched at his touch, a gesture so sweet but entirely meant for something more than just friends or whatever line you had been dancing on for months.

As you fought to keep your composure, the door opened again, and Taehyun and Kai returned with takeout with Chaehyun and Jay trailing shortly behind. Their faces lit up with relief as they saw Heeseung. They set the bags down and greeted him with nods of recognition.

“Hey, Heeseung,” Taehyun said, his eyes flicking between you and the new arrival. “We didn’t expect to see you here,” he added in a tone that indicated that they had actually wholeheartedly expected him to be here.

Kai pulled up a chair and began unpacking the food, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ve got all your favorites. Maybe it’ll help take your mind off things, at least for a little while.”

The room began to fill with the comforting aroma of food as the group gathered around. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the underlying tension about your injury was palpable. Heeseung’s quiet support was a steady presence amidst the chatter.

As the evening wore on, the mood lightened somewhat thanks to Jay’s attempts at humor and the shared closeness. Yet, the reality of your injury and the impact it would have on your fencing career loomed large.

When the food was almost finished and the room was filled with the sounds of friends chatting and laughing, you caught a glimpse of Heeseung standing quietly by the doorway. His gaze met yours, and you could see the concern in his eyes. The sight of him, a reminder of the support and understanding you had around you, made it all the more difficult to keep your emotions in check. Your gazes continued their lock as everything around you, the increasingly serious conversation between Jay and Kai about a new video game and the steady beeping of the hospital machines in the room, faded out leaving only your heartbeat thumping in your ears and a million thoughts swirling around in your head about the boy across the room from you.

Spring had finally settled over the campus, bringing with it warmer days and a sense of renewal. The trees were bursting with blossoms, and the air was filled with the buzz of students eager for the semester to end. For you, the past few weeks had been a blur of classes, physical therapy sessions, and quiet moments spent reflecting on what could have been. The boot on your ankle had become a familiar part of your daily routine, though it was a constant reminder of the season you had lost.

Today, however, you were looking forward to something different—a chance to take a break from the weight of your injury and celebrate the accomplishments of your friends. The journalism club was hosting their end-of-the-year showcase, where they would unveil their final magazine. The event was a big deal on campus, a night where everyone could see the hard work and creativity that had gone into the club’s projects over the semester.

You, Jay, and Jake made your way to the event together. The three of you had been spending more time together lately, and their easygoing personalities made it easier to forget about your troubles, even if just for a little while. Jay walked beside you, his usual relaxed smile on his face, while Jake, as always, was full of energy and chatter.

“You excited to see the magazine?” Jake asked as you approached the auditorium where the showcase was being held.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, trying to keep up with them despite the boot. “I’ve been curious to see how the article turned out.”

Jay glanced over at you, a teasing grin playing on his lips. “Or maybe you’re more excited to see Heeseung?”

You felt a blush creep up your neck. “He wrote about the fencing team, so I’m definitely curious,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

The auditorium was bustling with activity when you arrived. Tables were set up with copies of the magazine and other projects the club had worked on throughout the year. The walls were lined with posters, photographs, and pieces of art that highlighted the creativity of the journalism students. The room buzzed with excitement and pride as people mingled, admiring each other’s work.

As you and your friends entered, you immediately spotted Heeseung standing near one of the display tables, talking with a group of students. He was dressed casually, but there was an air of quiet confidence about him that made him stand out. You watched as he laughed at something one of the students said, the sound warm and genuine. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took a moment to observe him from a distance.

“He’s right there,” Jay said, leaning in close. “Go say hi.”

You gave him a playful shove. “I will, just give me a minute.”

Jake grinned. “Come on, let’s go check out the magazine. I want to see how we look in print.”

The three of you made your way over to the display table where the final magazine was laid out. There were stacks of the publication, each one carefully bound and designed. The cover featured a striking image of the campus, with the title in bold letters: “Echoes of the Semester”

You flipped through the pages, searching for Heeseung’s article. When you found it, you couldn’t help but smile. There, on the glossy pages, was the story of your team—the triumphs, the challenges, and everything in between. He had captured the essence of the fencing club with a level of detail and insight that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

The presentation started a few moments later, and you found yourself a seat close to the stage. The event had a relaxed, celebratory atmosphere, and you watched with interest as a few students gave brief speeches about their experiences in the club over the past year. The highlight was, of course, the unveiling of the magazine, and you were excited to see how the fencing club had been portrayed.

Heeseung was called to the stage to introduce his article. As he spoke, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for him. He was articulate, confident, and passionate about the story he had written. He spoke about the hard work and dedication of the fencing team, about the perseverance required to compete at such a high level, and about how he had been inspired by their journey.

When he mentioned your name, a flush of warmth spread through you. Heeseung glanced your way, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before he continued his speech. The room seemed to hold its breath, captivated by his words, and you found yourself unable to look away.

After the presentation ended, the crowd dispersed to explore the displays, and you were left with a strange mix of emotions—pride, excitement, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Jay and Jake had wandered off to talk to some friends of theirs, leaving you standing near the stage, still holding a copy of the magazine.

You were about to head over to one of the displays when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found Heeseung standing there, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more serious.

“You were great up there,” you said, smiling up at him. “The article is amazing.”

Heeseung returned the smile, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something that made your heart skip a beat. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. But, actually… there’s something I want to show you.”

Curiosity piqued, you followed him as he led you away from the bustling crowd, down a quiet hallway that led to a small, dimly lit room at the back of the auditorium. Heeseung closed the door behind you, and you suddenly felt very aware of how close the two of you were standing.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice tinged with nervousness.

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small, slightly worn notebook. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. “This… didn’t make it into the magazine,” he said, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

You opened the notebook, flipping through the pages. It was filled with handwritten notes, sketches, and rough drafts. As you skimmed through it, you realized that the entire notebook was about you—your fencing, your struggles, your thoughts and emotions. It was far more personal and detailed than the article that had been published.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read through the passages. Heeseung had written about moments you hadn’t even realized he had noticed—your determination during practice, the way you pushed through pain, the quiet strength you exuded even when you were at your lowest. He had captured the essence of who you were in a way that was both intimate and raw.

“Why didn’t you include this?” you asked, looking up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung met your gaze, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension. “It felt… too personal,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I didn’t want to overstep, but I wanted you to know that I see you—really see you.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you held the notebook, the weight of his words sinking in. There was something deeply vulnerable about this moment, something that made you feel both exposed and understood in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. Your fingers still rested on the notebook, but you were no longer aware of the paper beneath your hands. All you could focus on was Heeseung—the warmth of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way his breath brushed against your skin.

Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded in your chest as the tension between you grew, thick and palpable. His eyes flicked to your lips, and you could feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer.

Before you could say anything else, Heeseung reached out and took your hand, gently tugging you closer to him. His fingers brushed over the magazine still clutched in your hands, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know this might be a little forward,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “but… there’s an after-party at my apartment tonight. I’d really like it if you came.”

The words hung in the air between you, and you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with the nervous energy that always seemed to accompany your interactions with him. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a promise of more time together, of peeling back more layers and discovering what lay beneath the surface of your growing connection.

You smiled softly, the corners of your lips curling up as you looked into his eyes. “I’d love to,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

The tension lingered as you stood there, neither of you moving, neither of you wanting to break the moment. And then, almost as if by instinct, Heeseung leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, the kind of kiss that made your heart race and your knees weak.

The notebook slipped from your hands, forgotten as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Heeseung’s hands found your waist, and he held you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way he made you feel—alive, desired, and seen. There was a quiet urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart racing in your chest. Heeseung’s eyes were dark, filled with a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own. Neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

Heeseung suddenly backed away from you so abruptly that it took you a moment to register what had happened. One second, you were lost in the heat of the moment, and the next, he was stepping back, a mumbled apology slipping from his lips.

"Uh, the after-party..." Heeseung began, his voice barely above a whisper as he avoided your eyes. "I should, um, get ready for it. I’ll see you there?"

Before you could respond, he was already retreating, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit room. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin, but the sudden coldness of the distance between you was unmistakable.

You stared at the spot where he had been, trying to process what had just happened. The kiss had been everything you'd imagined—intense, passionate, full of unspoken emotions—but now, it felt like it had been ripped away just as quickly as it had begun. Heeseung was always just out of reach, pulling you in close only to push you away the next moment.

With a frustrated sigh, you picked up the notebook from where it had fallen and clutched it tightly to your chest. You were upset, hurt, feeling like no matter how many moments the two of you shared, they always seemed to slip through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but the fleeting memory of something more.

The walk back to the main room was a blur. You found Jay and Jake talking with a few other students near the exit, their laughter and easy conversation a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

"Ready to grab some dinner?" Jay asked, catching sight of you as you approached. His usual grin faltered when he saw the look on your face. "You okay?"

You forced a smile, not wanting to worry them. "Yeah, just... a lot on my mind."

Jake, ever the perceptive one, raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. "Come on, let’s go. Food will help."

The three of you left the auditorium, making your way to a nearby diner that was a favorite among students. The place was busy, filled with the chatter of people winding down after a long day. You slid into a booth, trying to focus on the menu in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere.

Throughout dinner, you found yourself distracted, your thoughts circling back to Heeseung. You barely heard the conversation happening around you, only nodding and offering the occasional comment when prompted. Jay and Jake didn’t seem to notice—or maybe they did, but they chose not to say anything.

You picked at your food, appetite long gone as your thoughts kept returning to the same question: Why was he keeping you at arm’s length? Every time you thought you were getting closer, he would pull away, leaving you more confused and frustrated than before.

By the time you arrived at the after-party, your nerves were frayed, and you felt like you were walking into the lion’s den. Heeseung was there, as expected, greeting everyone as they arrived, his easy smile and calm demeanor masking whatever he was truly feeling.

But when it came to you, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid any meaningful interaction. He was always just a few steps ahead, just out of reach, slipping through the crowd before you could approach him. It was as if that kiss—and everything that had led up to it—hadn’t happened at all.

Jay and Jake didn’t notice your growing frustration as they mingled with the other guests, Sunghoon, Taehyun, and Chaehyun playing some overly complicated drinking game off to the side, but you were a ball of anxiety, barely able to keep up with the small talk and casual conversation. The party was lively, filled with laughter and music, but you felt like you were trapped in a bubble, unable to enjoy any of it.

The hours dragged on, and your patience wore thin. As the party began to wind down and people started to leave, you found yourself more determined than ever to get answers. You couldn’t keep going on like this, caught in this endless push-and-pull with Heeseung. You needed to know where you stood with him—or if you even stood anywhere at all.

Finally, when the crowd had thinned out and most of the guests had left, you spotted Heeseung in the kitchen, cleaning up empty cups and discarded plates. His back was to you, and for a moment, you hesitated. But then, the frustration that had been building all night boiled over, and you found yourself marching over to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Heeseung,” you called out, your voice firmer than you expected.

He turned around, surprised to see you standing there. “Oh, hey. I didn’t realize—”

“Why have you been avoiding me all night?” The question came out more accusatory than you intended, but you were too upset to care.

Heeseung blinked, clearly taken aback by your directness. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since we kissed. And it’s not just tonight, Heeseung. It’s every time we get close, every time something happens between us, you pull away.”

You barely noticed the last remaining people, Jay and Taehyun, nervously exchanging glances before quickly exiting Heeseung’s apartment.

Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t done. The words came spilling out, a torrent of emotions you’d been holding back for too long.

“I don’t understand what’s going on between us,” you continued, your voice trembling with frustration. “We have all these moments together, these perfect, real moments, and then you just… you just disappear. I feel like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to pull away again, and I can’t keep doing this. I-I feel like I’m going crazy. I mean, what is this? Is this how you are with your friends? I mean you and Jake seem close but-”

“Don’t finish that,” he interrupted with a quiet laugh before looking down, his expression unreadable. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides, but he still didn’t say anything. The silence stretched on, and your heart sank, the fear that you had pushed him too far creeping in.

But then, finally, he looked up at you, and you saw something shift in his eyes—a determination you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have been pulling away. And I’m sorry. I’ve been scared… of what this means, of how I feel. But you deserve more than that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he stepped closer, cutting you off as he continued. “You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to show you how much you mean to them, someone who isn’t constantly holding back.”

“Heeseung…” you started, but he shook his head.

“No, let me finish,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I just, I know how busy you are and I don’t know I thought I was doing this whole selfless act by trying to keep distance, but I… find that hard around you.”

Heeseung took a deep breath, and then, in a voice filled with a mix of fear and determination, he finally confessed, “I like you. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. And it terrifies me because I don’t want to mess this up. But I can’t help it, Y/N, I want to be with you.”

The confession hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were too stunned to speak. All the frustration, the confusion, the uncertainty that had been weighing on you for weeks melted away, leaving behind only the raw, undeniable truth of what you both felt.

Heeseung reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you were always going to be kept at a distance,” he said softly. “That’s the last thing I want. I want to be close to you, in every way.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

The tension that had been simmering between you all night reached its breaking point, and before you knew it, you were pulling him closer, closing the distance between you. Heeseung didn’t hesitate this time—his lips found yours in a kiss that was fierce, passionate, and full of all the things that had been left unsaid for too long.

It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of desire, of a connection that had been building for months. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, as if afraid that if you let go, he might slip away again. But Heeseung was there, solid and real, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe, wanted.

He bent down, hands roaming through your hair and then down your arms to snake around your waist and pull you onto the counter top in front of him. Your boot knocked clumsily into his knee, but he seemed to pay no attention to it. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you pulled him closer and heat blazed through your core at the sound of a small giggle that escaped him.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you could see the same mix of emotions reflected in his eyes—relief, happiness, and something deeper, something that promised this was just the beginning of something more.

“Stay with me tonight,” Heeseung murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

You nodded, your heart racing as you ran your fingers and palms against his firm forearms, desiring to touch every inch of him you hadn’t been able to until now.

And as you spent the night together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that this was the start of something real, something that you have only been dreaming about for months. The doubts and fears that had plagued you for so long seemed distant now, replaced by a certainty and feeling for the first time that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

thank you for reading!! <3

#lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen x reader #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung fic #enhypen x female reader #heeseung fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen au #heeseung au #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fanfiction

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marsplastic13 · 2 months

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'Complicated' (part 9) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.2k notes: can't wait to hear what you have to sayy

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Weeks later, Kaz and Inej got into a fight. A big one. One that made them scream at each other like they never had before, leading to him storming out of his house. The words Inej had said echoed in his mind, and he couldn't believe the things she had thrown at him in anger. He got in his car and started driving, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as rage flooded through his veins.

He drove straight to y/n's house, not caring that it was late, not caring about anything except the need to see her. The light in her room was on, which was a small relief. He was ready to wake up the entire neighborhood if necessary. He picked the lock on the door of the building with practiced ease, his movements fueled by a mix of desperation and anger. He went straight to her apartment and knocked on the door, his heart pounding.

After a moment, y/n emerged, her head poking out cautiously. At first, she looked scared, then puzzled when she recognized him. “I… I thought it was the police,” she muttered, her voice shaky.

Kaz's breath was heavy, and adrenaline surged through his body. Without a word, he took out his phone, opened his banking app, and turned the screen towards her. “Take whatever you want, empty my bank account, I don't care. I want you. Now.”

Y/n didn't hesitate. She pulled him down by his collar and kissed him roughly, deeply, with an urgency that matched his own. They stumbled into her apartment, their bodies pressed tightly together as they made their way to her bedroom.

Once inside, y/n immediately began undoing the buttons on Kaz's shirt, her fingers working quickly. His hands slipped under her shirt, cupping her breasts as he pulled her onto his lap, pressing their bodies together. He inhaled her familiar scent, the longing for her overwhelming his senses.

Y/n's lips moved to his neck, her kisses and bites were messy and demanding, making him hiss with pleasure. Her hips rolled against his, and all Kaz could think about was removing the layers of clothing between them. He slid her shirt off over her head, their eyes locking for a brief moment. Her gaze was filled with desire, mirroring his own.

She cupped his face, pulling him into a softer kiss as his hands roamed her body, guiding her hips to match his pace. She moaned, feeling him hard beneath her. Y/n gently pushed him to lay back, moving on top of him, her breath hot against his lips.

“Say it,” he whispered, his voice filled with need. “Say it, y/n.”

“I want you, make me yours, love,” she whispered back, her words sending a thrill through him.

Her hands fumbled with his trousers, her expert fingers undoing them in seconds. Kaz marveled at how she could kiss his neck, support herself with one arm, and touch him all at once. The sensations were overwhelming, making it hard for him to think straight.

“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice rough with desire.

Finally, her hand slipped inside his underwear, and they both moaned in sync. The feeling of her touch was almost too much to bear. He had no idea of how he managed to limit himself until that moment.

She worked him up slowly, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "Y/n," he murmured, his voice strained with need.

"Mh?" she responded, her breath warm against his skin.

He laughed nervously, his hands gripping her hips. "I won't last long if you keep going like this."

She smiled, satisfied, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leaning over to the nightstand, she grabbed a condom and tossed it to him. "Do you want to show me how good you are?"

He caught it and laughed, tossing it back to her. "Maybe next time."

"Next time? We’re hopeful," she smirked, quickly putting it on him with practiced ease. Their eyes locked, and his heart pounded so hard he could almost hear it. He nodded, there was no way he was turning back now.

Y/n spat on him with insane precision, her eyes never leaving his as she slowly slid him inside her. Kaz threw his head back, unable to restrain a moan. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and relief washing over him.

She settled on him, her movements slow and deliberate. The rhythm she set left him unable to form a coherent thought, his mind lost in the intensity of the moment. Her warmth enveloped him, and every nerve in his body was on fire.

"Are you still with me, love?" she whispered, leaning down to press her cold piercings against his chest. The contrast sent shivers through him.

"You know you can move too, right?" she asked, nudging his cheek with her nose, her playful tone bringing him back to the present.

Kaz's trembling hands moved to her waist. He felt a rush of nervousness, feeling the weight of his inexperience. “Go on, baby, let me follow you.” she pleaded encouraging him.

He found his rhythm, thrusting up to meet her. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, a dance of pure desire. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as their pace quickened.

He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her closer, their chests pressed together. His other hand tangled in her hair, bringing her lips to his. The kiss was urgent, hungry, as if they were trying to consume each other.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her breath coming in short gasps. Kaz could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building inside him. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he fought to hold on a little longer.

“Y/n," he groaned, his voice barely a whisper. "I can't... I'm close."

"A little more, love," she replied, her voice trembling with pleasure. "Don't stop, please, for me."

Kaz summoned every ounce of willpower, gripping her hips tighter as he pushed himself to keep going. His body was on fire, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of their connection. He moved with renewed determination, matching her pace, their breaths mingling in the heated air between them.

Y/n's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving marks he knew he'd feel tomorrow. The sight of her lost in ecstasy pushed him even closer to the edge.

"Just a little more," she gasped, her voice breaking. "Kaz, please."

Hearing her plea, he thrust deeper, harder, desperate to bring them both over the edge. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, and he felt her tighten around him, sending him spiraling into bliss.

With one final, powerful thrust, Kaz felt his release crash over him, his vision blurring as he held her close. Y/n cried out, her body shuddering against his as she reached her peak, their shared climax creating a perfect, euphoric moment.

They stayed locked together, their breaths ragged and bodies trembling. Slowly, Y/n relaxed against him, her head resting on his chest. Kaz's fingers traced patterns on her back, his heart still racing from the intensity of their connection.

"That was..." she began, her voice soft and breathless.

"Incredible," Kaz finished, his own voice barely more than a whisper. He tilted her chin up, their eyes meeting in the dim light of the room.

"Yeah," she agreed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Incredible."

For a moment, they simply lay there, savoring the aftermath of their passion. Kaz knew their situation was complicated, messy even, but in that moment, he didn't care. All that mattered was the woman in his arms and the undeniable connection they shared.

"We really need to talk," he finally said, his voice gentle but firm. "About everything."

Y/n nodded, her expression serious. "I know." A small wave of embarrassment washed over him, aware of Y/n's extensive experience compared to his own first time. “I’m sorry that it was, uhm, quick,” he muttered, feeling vulnerable.

“It was perfect, Kaz,” she reassured him, her voice soft and sincere. “Do you want to talk about why you came here?”

Kaz sighed, the memories of his argument with Inej flooding his mind. “I had a fight with Inej. We were kissing, and touching and I thought that maybe she wanted to, you know, have sex, so I tried to make things move forward, but she asked me to stop.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “So I asked her what she wanted from me. I swear I just wanted to understand, to be on the same page as her, and she started to get defensive. I kept insisting for her to talk and be clear, and she exploded, saying that she thinks she will never be able to have sex again.”

“Oh,” commented Y/n softly, her eyebrows knitting together in sympathy.

“Yeah, and I mean, it was fine, I could live with that. But then she added that she was with me because she thought that our issues matched and that I would never want to cross those lines.” Kaz's frustration was evident in his voice. “So I got mad, because what does that even mean? She knows I feel bad about my problems, that I always wanted to overcome them. I didn’t know what to think or say, so I just left.”

“That’s a lot,” murmured Y/n, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his arm.

Kaz felt a mix of relief and guilt as he unloaded his feelings. “It just felt like she was using my issues as an excuse for her own. And I understand that she has trauma, but so do I. I’ve been trying to get better, to move past it. I thought we were in this together.”

Y/n nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It sounds like both of you are struggling with your own battles. Maybe she was scared and didn’t know how to communicate that.”

Kaz sighed deeply, his frustration ebbing away slightly as he listened to Y/n’s calm reasoning. “I just don’t know how to help her if she doesn’t talk to me.”

“You’re not responsible for fixing her, Kaz,” Y/n said gently. “But you do need to talk to her, really talk, and try to understand each other’s perspectives. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s necessary if you want to move forward together.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating her words. “I know. I just needed to get away for a bit, to clear my head.”

Y/n leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I get it.”

Kaz closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he lay there, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

“So, where do you think you stand now?” Y/n asked gently, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

He let out a nervous chuckle. “I have no idea. I mean, we didn’t break up, and I definitely just cheated on her.” The weight of his actions settled heavily on him. There were no more excuses, no way to justify himself even if he wanted to. This wasn’t about a payment, a session, or getting better for someone else. He had gotten into a fight and ran away to have sex with another woman.

Kaz's gaze drifted to the open luggage in the middle of the room. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

“Cruise, three weeks for work, I leave tomorrow,” she replied.

“Sounds fun,” he said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Kaz, I… I didn’t change my mind about us. I don’t want a relationship right now,” Y/n said softly.

He closed his eyes, pulling her even closer. “I know,” he said, his voice equally soft.

“I would just hurt you, love. And I don’t want to. And you’d be forced to accept things that I know you don’t like, and it wouldn’t be fair.” She sighed deeply. “You need to figure things out with Inej. You love her.”

“I do,” he admitted.

“Maybe you’ll be able to patch things up if that’s what you want.”

“I have no idea how I could justify being here tonight,” Kaz said, the guilt gnawing at him.

“Do you regret it?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

“No, I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” he said, moving her to look into her eyes. “You said you wanted to ruin me once. Maybe I want to let you do it.”

Y/n smiled sadly. “I don’t think so. I care too much about you.”

“We could try, take things slow,” he suggested, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Kaz, you have a girlfriend,” she reminded him gently.

“Yeah, I’m a bit confused at the moment,” he admitted.

Y/n cupped his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. “You need to figure things out with Inej first. See if there’s a way forward for both of you. You can’t make decisions like this while you’re still with her.”

Kaz sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her words. She was right, of course. He needed to face the reality of his situation, no matter how complicated and painful it might be.

“You’re right,” Kaz said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to her, really talk. With her, I don’t think I feel as good as I do when I’m with you, and you have no idea how much it costs me to say it. I always thought it would be her, and I was terrified to lose her. That’s what pushed me to look for someone for help.”

Y/n's expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “We still know so little about each other,” she observed.

“Then talk to me, Y/n. Tell me about yourself,” Kaz said, his voice earnest, searching.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he replied, his voice tinged with curiosity and an unspoken desire to know her deeply.

Y/N settled into the cushions, her expression turning thoughtful. “My grandma raised me,” she began, her voice softening. “She’s everything to me. But she was also heavily depressed and got hospitalized a few times. There was a point when I was about to end up in foster care, so she made me fake documents, and I moved out at fourteen.”

Kaz widened his eyes, clearly taken aback. “I don't believe you.”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine. “It’s the truth.”

He studied her, the puzzle pieces of her past fitting together in ways he hadn’t expected. “Does she know about your job?”

“You’d be surprised, but yes. As long as I’m safe, she’s fine with it.” A small smile played on her lips, a mix of pride and a hint of vulnerability.

Kaz leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I don't want you to leave tomorrow.”

She turned to him, their faces inches apart. “If I tell you how much money I'm making, you're going to finish packing for me.”

“Shoot,” he said, his curiosity piqued.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to whisper a number in his ear. Kaz’s eyes widened in shock. “Who has that much money to use for-” He stopped himself, almost saying something he knew would hurt her.

“For a whore, you can say it, Kaz. I'm not ashamed.” She made a playful pout. “You're telling me you wouldn't give me that much to spend three weeks alone with me?”

“Are you crazy? And be stuck on a cruise with you? And how annoying you are? No way.” He laughed, a genuine sound that eased the tension between them. “Plus, I just got you for free.”

Y/N faked a look of shock. “I'm going to take your virginity back,” she declared, launching into a playful fight, pretending she could physically reclaim it.

“Too late for that,” he said, easily locking her arms in his grip.

“I’m going to find a way, I swear.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

These were the moments that made Kaz want more. The way they could be playful, open, and raw with each other was something he hadn’t experienced before. It was more than just physical; it was the connection, the understanding, the shared moments of vulnerability that pulled him closer to her.

He gazed at her, their breaths mingling.

Y/N had shifted under him, cupping his face to kiss him again, locking her legs around his hips to pull him closer. Kaz couldn’t resist the urge to move against her, their bodies aligning perfectly.

“Y/N, let’s try it,” he whispered against her lips, his breath hot and desperate. Her soft nails scratched his back, sending shivers down his spine. “I want to be with you,” he murmured, feeling her smile between his frantic kisses. “I want to fucking move in with you, think about it.”

“Baby, you’re losing your mind,” she commented, her voice a mix of amusement and tenderness.

“So? I don’t care.” Kaz's kisses trailed down her neck, his pleadings growing more desperate. For the briefest moment, he actually understood why his boss would ask her to marry him every time they were in bed. The intensity, the connection—it was overwhelming.

Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, moans escaping her lips when he bit her nipple. “Kaz, you know it’s not that simple.”

He didn’t stop, all his words separated by kisses and bites. “Let’s make it simple. I want you, I know you want me. It’s already done.”

“Yeah? And then what, love? Tell me about it.” Y/N passed him a condom, raising her brows.

A grin spread on his face, and he managed to put it on easier than he thought. He pushed inside her, watching her close her eyes in satisfaction. Kaz leaned on her, trying to find his pace. Y/N locked her legs around him, allowing him to go deeper.

“Fuck,” he said, pressing their foreheads together.

“Keep talking to me,” she said between heavy breaths.

He struggled to be present enough to form thoughts, and in fact, he didn’t. “I would take you out, show everyone how beautiful you are... buy you everything you want... Do you like flowers? I would buy you flowers every day. I’d take you to the beach. We’d travel, see the world... anywhere you want to go. I’d learn to cook fo you, hell, I’ll became fucking vegan for you.”

“Faster, love,” she purred against his ear, letting her hips match his movements.

“Faster? I would marry you right now if you want me to.”

Y/N laughed, “I meant move faster, baby.” His voice was raw, the intensity of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Oh yeah, right.”

Kaz quickened his pace, their bodies moving in sync. The room was filled with their mingled breaths and the sound of skin against skin. He kissed her deeply, pouring all his emotions into it.

“I’d spoil you rotten,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Y/N’s nails dug into his back, her moans growing louder. “Kaz, you feel so good,” she breathed.

“Just want to make you happy,” he replied, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

She arched her back, pulling him closer. “You do, baby, you do.”

“Do you want children? I don’t but I would for you,” he blurted out, his voice rough with emotion and physical exertion.

The intensity of their connection in that moment made him feel invincible, as if he could take on anything if it meant being with her.

Y/N snorted, “Shut up, love.”

“Mh, I don’t think I can,” Kaz responded with a breathless chuckle, his movements never faltering. The feel of her, the way she responded to him, it all felt too right. His thoughts raced as he tried to grasp onto the reality of his words. Could he really see himself in a future like this? At that moment, everything seemed possible.

Y/N pulled him even closer, her nails digging into his back, urging him on. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Don’t stop, keep talking.”

Kaz’s mind was a whirlwind, but he focused on her, on the way she felt beneath him, around him. “I’d wake up next to you every morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Make you breakfast, kiss you before you leave for work. Every day would be about us.”

She moaned, her hips meeting his with every thrust. “That sounds perfect.”

“I’d take you on trips,” he continued, his voice growing hoarse. “We’d see the world together. I’d show you everything, give you everything.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her body tightening around him. “Kaz, you’re making me come, don't stop.”

“Let go, love,” he urged, feeling his own control slipping. “I’ve got you.”

Their movements became more frantic, driven by the raw emotion and the physical need. Kaz’s thoughts were a jumbled mess of desire and promise. As they both reached their peak, Kaz’s mind went blank, consumed by the intensity of the moment. They collapsed together, breathing heavily, their bodies still entwined. He held her close, pressing his forehead against hers.

His intense gaze was lost in hers. “You called me love,” she said in a small voice, and he thought he’d never seen her so unguarded, so vulnerable. In that moment, he realized just how much power they had over each other. Her walls, always so carefully maintained, had crumbled in his presence, revealing a side of her that she rarely, if ever, showed to anyone.

“I did,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached up, gently cupping her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheek. He was struck by the raw honesty in her eyes, and it made him feel a mix of fear and exhilaration. The word had slipped out naturally, a reflection of the genuine affection he felt.

Her vulnerability in that moment was a stark contrast to her usual confident, almost defiant demeanor. He realized that this side of her was a rare gift, one that she didn’t share lightly. It made him want to protect her, to be the one person she could always rely on.

“Kaz, don’t tell me that you love me. I know you’re about to do it; it’s just the sex,” Y/N added, her tone growing more serious, breaking his reverie.

He took a long breath and nodded, slipping out of her and laying next to her. “I think I might have gotten carried away a bit,” he admitted.

“A bit?” she asked sarcastically, curling on his side.

“Okay, a lot,” he gave up with a chuckle, “Why didn’t you tell me sex is so good?”

“I tried,” she protested.

“How many times did you do it today?”

“Four.”

“And how many times did you come?”

Y/N patted his nose two times, making him grin like an idiot. Kaz’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He reached out, tracing the outline of her face with his fingers, memorizing every detail.

As Kaz held Y/N close, her warmth and scent enveloped him, momentarily easing the weight of their impending separation. His whispered declaration of "You're amazing" was met with a soft laugh from her, a tender sound that echoed in the quiet intimacy of her room.

"You're not so bad yourself, Brekker," she replied, her voice carrying a mix of affection and amusement. Her fingers traced absent-minded patterns on his chest as she looked up at him, her expression softening with a hint of melancholy.

"I don't want this to end," Kaz confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. He tightened his embrace, as if trying to prolong the moment, to hold onto the fleeting connection they shared.

Y/N's gaze met his, her eyes reflecting the gravity of their situation. "I leave tomorrow, baby," she reminded him gently, a touch of sadness coloring her voice.

"Don't," Kaz pleaded softly, his fingers brushing through her hair. He didn't want to acknowledge the reality that loomed outside her door—the responsibilities, the complications, the consequences of their choices.

"Kaz, stop," she whispered, her tone gentle yet firm. She knew they couldn't linger in this fragile bubble forever, that their time together was finite.

He sighed, rolling his eyes in a half-hearted attempt to mask his reluctance. Deep down, he understood that their passionate interlude couldn't shield them from the complexities awaiting them once they parted ways.

"I think I'm falling asleep," Y/N murmured, her eyes already closed as she nestled against his chest, seeking comfort in his presence.

"Go to sleep, love," Kaz whispered tenderly, his hand gently stroking her back, relishing the intimacy of the moment.

Y/N hummed contentedly against his chest, settling into a peaceful slumber. Kaz held her close, savoring the quiet intimacy of their embrace, yet his mind raced with thoughts and unspoken words.

"Y/N, I forgot everything you taught me about foreplay," he confessed softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I haven't told you how pretty you are, I didn't—"

"Those are for girlfriends, not for whores," Y/N mumbled sleepily, her words cutting through Kaz's vulnerable admission like a knife.

Kaz's heart sank at her blunt response. Her words pierced through the fragile facade he had built around their relationship, reminding him of the reality they both tried to avoid. He swallowed hard, a knot forming in his throat as he processed her words and their implications.

In that moment, as he held Y/N in his arms, Kaz couldn't deny the complexity of their connection. They had crossed boundaries, blurred lines, and now he grappled with the consequences. He knew their encounter was more than physical, yet he also understood the limitations imposed by their circumstances.

Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken emotions and unfulfilled desires. Kaz closed his eyes, silently grappling with the ache in his chest, unsure of how to navigate the tangled web of emotions that bound him to Y/N.

Kaz stirred awake as a soft knock rapped against the door. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, he realized it was nearly sunrise. Beside him, Y/N remained peacefully asleep, undisturbed by the gentle interruption.

After a few more knocks, one of Y/N's roommates cautiously cracked the door open. She peered inside, clearly surprised to find Kaz there. Her voice was hushed as she whispered, "Hi. I need to leave her my swimsuit. I'm not sure if I'll catch her later."

Kaz nodded understandingly, gesturing for her to enter. The roommate swiftly deposited the clothes in Y/N's luggage, taking a moment to discreetly assess the situation in the room. Her gaze lingered momentarily on the scattered condoms on the floor.

"Did you guys have sex?" she asked bluntly, her curiosity evident. Kaz met her gaze and nodded in affirmation.

"Finally," the roommate exclaimed with a satisfied smile, her tone teasing. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Kaz replied sincerely, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he recalled the night's intensity.

The roommate's knowing smile widened slightly, clearly pleased with the response. Without further ado, she quietly exited the room, leaving Kaz to reflect on the unexpected exchange.

When Y/N's alarm punctuated the morning air, she was already bustling around the room, gathering her remaining belongings. Kaz grumbled in irritation, still half-asleep. "You can sleep a little more. I've still got an hour," she paused at the doorway, glancing back at him. "Do you want to take a shower with me?" she asked, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

Kaz cracked open one eye, feigning reluctance. "I think that's too much."

By the time Kaz managed to rouse himself fully, Y/N had returned, busying herself with her morning routine and sorting through her pills. Kaz, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, couldn't help but comment, "That stuff can't be good for you, love."

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly. "Everyone has to die of something," she remarked casually. "Get up, I have to fix the bed."

He complied, gathering his scattered clothes from the floor as she tidied up the room. As she finished, Kaz pulled her onto his lap with a playful grin.

"Ew, Kaz, you have morning breath. Stay away from me," Y/N teased, wrinkling her nose.

He chuckled and opted to kiss her temple instead, affectionately ignoring her comment. As they sat together, the mood shifted subtly when Y/N spoke up softly.

"I don't think we should write to each other these days," she said, her tone hesitant.

Confusion flickered in Kaz's eyes. "Why?"

"I don't want you to think there's more," she explained, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"I know that," Kaz responded quietly, reaching for her hand.

"Yeah, but do you believe it?" Her question hung in the air, stirring a heavy silence between them.

Kaz sighed, unsure how to answer.

"You're too sweet for me," Y/N continued, her tone tinged with sadness as she traced his lips with a delicate finger. "The work you've done on yourself for Inej is incredible. No one would ever do something like that for me."

Kaz sat there, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He searched for the right response, wanting to reassure her, to make her see that he wasn't like the others. But the words eluded him, caught in the turmoil of emotions swirling inside him.

"And I don't think I would be able to do something so nice for someone else," she admitted quietly, her voice laced with vulnerability.

"Don't push me away," Kaz pleaded softly, his eyes pleading with her to reconsider.

"I have to," she replied, her tone firm yet tinged with regret. "This night was... but I can't do this, Kaz. Are we going to sneak behind Inej's back? Are we going to fight because of my job? Why should we put ourselves through all of that?"

Kaz scoffed, irritation seeping into his voice. "So what, then? We leave this room and then we never talk to each other anymore?"

"It's the right thing to do," she said, standing up and avoiding his gaze, her hands fidgeting nervously.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Kaz murmured, disbelief coloring his tone.

"I can't believe you aren't," Y/N sighed, her voice heavy with resignation. "You have to go, Kaz. My client is picking me up soon."

Kaz shook his head in disbelief, feeling a surge of frustration and hurt. "How much do I owe you for the night, then? Since I'm just one of your clients," he shot back harshly, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Oh, fuck off, Kaz. Get out," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

He grabbed his cane and left without a second glance back at her, feeling a bitter taste of regret and disappointment. This wasn't how he had envisioned their parting, their fleeting connection ending in such bitterness and misunderstanding.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker imagine

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rosewaterandivy · 10 months

Text

1.01 - Notes on a Scene

summary: a meet-fuck cute courtesy of The Hideout.

pairing: teacher!eddie x fem!reader

w.c.: 3.6k

warnings: modern! AU / 18 + no minors! / eddie is in his early 30s, in the tkaa timeline, this is set about two years after the epilogue, hook ups, fwb, Eddie being a menace, my usual filth™️

a/n: an Eddie-centric companion series to the kids aren’t alright. it’s not necessary to read the previous series, but there are certain plot points and characters that will be making an appearance here as well.

nota bene: feedback is always appreciated— reblogs, comments, likes, etc.— but reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

🎵gonna melt the fever sugar, rolling back your eyes🎵

“Hey.” A man says as he scoots into the stool next to you. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You look up and around. The space is dimly lit, brick walls, wooden shelves, a very subtle we don’t give a fuck vibe. There are plenty of women around who are dressed to impress, but he is strangely alert and focused on you. You are sitting perfectly still in denim cutoffs and a t-shirt that has seen better days—grubby house clothes. Even your hair, piled on top of your head screams: go away.

“You look lonely.” He’s dressed in an open green flannel with a crinkled tee underneath, ripped jeans, and dark sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Blinking owlishly, you stare at him some more. This guy has got to be messing with you. You stick the tip of your thumb to your chest. “Me?”

“Yeah. What’ll you have?”

Um. Alone time, maybe? You’re still searching over his shoulder as he says this, stubbornly ignorant of your aloof vibe. You look again toward the door, plotting your escape. Is this guy the type of person to chase you down and stuff you in the trunk of his car? You try to smile.

“I’m uh—I’m ab–”

“Babe!”

A third voice cuts in and then suddenly an arm wraps around your shoulder, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.”

Your head turns to regard the rest of its owner and your heart leaps into your mouth. Sumptuous brown eyes encased in dark lashes. Corners lifted by a wide smile. They are looking lovingly down at you, and they are magnificent.

“Uh.” Nice job.

“Uh- you—you were waiting on someone?” The stutter is incredibly pathetic when your first suitor clocks the man with his arm around you. He’s deceptively built, much to your surprise. He’s sturdy too, from what you can tell with his side pressed up against yours.

“Yep. Boyfriend. Good to meet you.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, but there’s no kindness in that look. “Care to fuck off now?”

And fuck off he does. When the man slinks back to his group of buddies who are all snickering at him, you turn to your timely savior, “Thanks…”

“It looked like you might need some help.” He takes his arm back and sinks into the stool next to you. “Just playing the part—I’ll fuck off too in a second.”

You’re still too shocked to mouth off yet as you continue to take in the sight of him at your side. He leans over on his palm, takes a quick look behind your head, and then gives you a wink. “Your man’s turned around. I think you’re safe.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” You mumble, facing him, “That flannel was straight from the nineties.” And then you pause, feeling your mouth-motor whir to life. He’s wearing a black leather jacket. Black shirt. Ripped jeans. Long hair tied back half-way, a slight scruff gracing his jaw. Probably sharp as a knife under that. “You look pretty straight from the nineties too, grunge-boy.”

Beer sprays from where his lips touch the rim of the bottle. He hisses, wiping the dribble from his neck. It takes him another minute of fumbling before all the moisture is off, and you can see the tiniest hint of a blush on his cheeks from where he’s embarrassed himself.

“Where are you coming from?” You ask mischievously, “A Spinal Tap convention?”

“No. I’m a townie, thanks very much.” He crosses his arms. “Just having a drink at my local.”

“Good to know.”

“My roommates…” He pauses to take a drink, “Well, I have a lot of them and they’re all coupled up.” He says plainly, “A man can only take so much.”

“So….” You sing, “You went out to… save helpless chicks from creeps?”

“Mmm,” he makes a show of sizing you up, eyes working slowly down your body. “I think you’re pretty capable of handling yourself, maybe a bit of a priss,” he decides, taking a long pull from his beer as the heat rises in your cheeks.

You want to laugh, but the shit-eating grin on his face doesn’t deserve to be encouraged right now. You can tell already he’s a real wild one, so you push the edges of your mouth down and pretend to find a lot of interest in grabbing your purse instead. “Well, mister, thanks for the saving. See you around.” You’re not above picking up a guy in a bar but why not tease him a little more while you’re at it?

He tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and grabs your jacket off the back of the stool. “It’s Eddie.” He says, “My name.”

“Hmm, Edward, nice to meet you.”

“Not a chance,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“I know what you are,” you continue voice flat, eyes glinting with mischief.

C’mon, someone named Edward who looks like that, there’s no way he’ll take the bait.

His eyes fix on you, playful. “Say it,” he leans closer to you, drowning out the sounds of Joan Jett asking who wants to touch her where. “Out loud. Say it.”

Giving it your best Kristen Stewart, you go for it: “Vampire.”

“Fuck you very much.” He laughs, voice soft against the din of the bar,

You smile and slip the sleeves of your jacket over your arms. “Well, Eddie, thanks for the saving. Bein’ a helpless chick and all, I sure hate it when a fella doesn’t know his place.”

Eddie’s pink tongue darts out to lick his equally pink lips and he hops off the stool, placing a five under his half-full beer. “Can I walk you to your car?” He asks. “You know—dark night, creeps in alleyways and parking lots… Unless it’s not my place… princess.”

Well, that’s just not playing fair.

You laugh, because it’s barely sunset. But the way he’s looking at you makes your blood rise and leak hot magma right into your tummy. What’s the harm, you think, because you’re new in town and you’ll likely never see him again. It’s Friday night.

“No, I suppose it’s not your place.” You pause, watching the disappointed expression on his face. “Eddie–” You pretend to wipe a smudge off the corner of his leather collar, leaning in until it really does look like he’s your boyfriend.

“You’re welcome to come to mine. But no more of this priss business.” You push your lips into an exaggerated pout.

He laughs a joyful noise, tugs his jacket on close to his chest, and follows you out the door.

Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger. “If you’ll just—”

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

Eddie tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he follows you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and you’ve made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, princess. You’re makin’ me crazy.”

Fuck. How can one person have so much stamina? This guy must be related to the Energizer Bunny. It’s been nearly two hours and he’s propped up against the headboard of your bed, legs spread, pointer finger beckoning you to crawl between them. This is your third (third!) time going at it.

You paw at your face because you are so sweaty. Eddie’s hair is down, strands framing his cheeks, just as wild as he is. Two hours of some of the filthiest talk you’ve ever head, ass-slapping, spit-swapping, hair-pulling, straight-up debauchery.

“This your usual M.O., Eddie, or are you doin’ me a favor?” You ask as your knees nudge him wider apart. Blowing a damp strand from your forehead, you lie down on your stomach and press your mouth to his thigh. “Death by exhaustion.”

“Sexhaustion,” He laughs, then grunts as your lips finds the blunt head of his cock. “You’re still goin’ too.” He comments. “Jesus, girl. Can I call you sometime?”

You hum a vibrating warble and he shudders in delight, “The helpless chicks of Hawkins won’t mind?”

“Pfft.” Then, as easily as he dismisses the idea, Eddie rests his arm on your shoulder before pulling you flush against him. “C’mere.”

There’s something about him that turns you inside out. Easy-going demeanor. Charm and wit. Just fucking gorgeous. It’s a silly little notion from a romanticized one-nighter, but you’re very interested in prolonging the fantasy. You’ll get the best of this, you think, a no-strings attached kind of attachment with someone who makes your body sing. You don’t even want to know his last name—and you don’t tell him yours no matter how many times he asks. You want to know nothing about him other than what you can touch and taste and feel.

And there’s quite a lot of him for all of that. Your hands roam his shoulders and arms, your tongue laps at the sweat on his neck, your tummy tightens when his cock flexes against your hip.

Even if there might be an attachment, the physical distance of him— you have no idea where he lives, would nip that foolishness right in the bud.

Against the backdrop soundtrack of the neighborhood traffic and chatter, you wiggle your way on top and seal your arrangement with a glide of your hips onto his.

Monday morning finds you unpacking in your new classroom at Hawkins High School (home of the Tigers!) and blaring music from your speakers. The tech guy said he’d be around to check the audio levels and load some editing software onto the Macs at some point today, and you’d been killing time ever since.

After meeting with your department head, along with a few other teachers, and getting the lay of the land, you decided to hang a few prints on your walls— you were standing on a table hammering a nail into the wall when you hear voices from the hallway.

“Ooh, this is a vibe!”

Turning to the door, you see two heads precariously poking in and recognize one from the department meeting. Sliding the hammer through a belt loop on your shorts, you step down from the table.

“It’s Robin, right— graphic design?”

The blonde perks up with a smile, “Yeah! How’s it going, need any help?” She steps into your classroom with another woman. “Oh this is Trouble,” she says by way of introduction, “She teaches sophomore English.”

She waves to you with a smile. “I’m digging the aesthetic,” she says, taking in the few things you’ve managed to unpack. “Sick tats, by the way.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You grab the frame next to you and step back on the table, “I figured I wouldn’t need to cover them up until school starts so.”

“Pfft, don’t even bother.” Trouble scoffs with a wave of her hand, “We have enough teachers with ‘em so it’s a non-issue.” She steps closer to get a better look at the Drive print near your door.

Robin grabs another frame from the pile, “Where do you want this one?”

Settling the Paprika print against the wall you step back down to see which one she grabbed. “Oh,” you say, eyeing the Midsommar piece in her hands, “That’ll be by my desk, you can set it over there.”

You meet her over there with two nails prized between your teeth. Grabbing a chair you step onto it and briefly check the fastening of the frame before lining up where the nails will be hung. While Robin helps you the other woman, Trouble, continues her perusal.

“Okay,” she says with a clap of her hands, “You have great taste based on your playlist, film choices, and is that—” She tugs at your free arm, “A horror sleeve? Oh my god, you have to meet the gang. They will love you.”

Her enthusiasm is heartening— she turns your arm this way and that, surveying the different films represented in black lines and shading. Robin’s eyes find yours with a mouthed ‘sorry about this’ and you shrug.

“Robs has your number?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your arm becomes your own once more as her fingers stop their tracing of your tattoos.

“Great! We’ll text you the details,” she continues to say, “We’re checking out a new bar in town tonight.” A waggle of her brows, “Rumor has it there’s a mechanical bull.”

A smile breaks across your face, “Well, yee-fuckin’-haw I guess.”

They leave with promises to see you tonight just as the tech guy, Bob, makes his appearance. He greets you politely, asking to check your PC and Mac before moving onto the students Macs. The two of you install and update the computers in your classroom before heading to the sound booth to check the audio ports and software. The rest of your day is spent discussing the finer points of your preferred editing programs and Bob peppering you with questions about the best cameras and equipment for sports broadcasting.

Eddie arrives at six-forty at the bar Trouble had selected for this evening, fittingly called ‘Outlawed.’ He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets, quickly crossing the parking lot to enter the bar, his mind elsewhere.

It was too good to be true, really. Meeting some girl and fooling around with her and, of course, he can’t help thinking about her. He doesn’t even know her name, he just calls her princess. Sometimes sweetheart, sometimes baby, babygirl, because their little meet-cute at the bar spawned a million different alternatives to choose from.

He’s only seen her once for fuck’s sake, but the way she giggles when he takes off her clothes and how her breath stutters against his mouth is something he thinks about frequently when he’s in bed with his hand down his boxers.

And now, Trouble wants to set him up with some new teacher at school. She’d told him all about it at lunch. “Seriously Eds,” she said, splitting a burger with Steve as a tomato slid from the bun and landed with a splat on her plate. “She’s just your type, cool as hell and takes no shit,” she hands the burger off to Steve, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Had like, fuckin’ nails in her teeth and was just hammering away on there walls while listening to an amazing mix— Portishead, Death Grips,” her eyes turn to him, bright and excited. “Between the Buried and Me, so she’s automatically better than those chicks you’ve been dealing with on the apps.”

Outside, under the final rays of sunshine people are streaming down the sidewalk, couples with arms hooked around each other, pretty girls in heels and guys looking after them. Monday night in the Hawkins, surprisingly buzzing with life and music.

He spots Steve as he walks in and they walk next to each other, dodging people left and right as Steve leads them into the dark space of a bar, cramped more than sardines in a can. Eddie shuffles sideways to squeeze past a couple already a little too frisky for a public setting. It’s hot and sticky inside, and the smell of fried foods and beer permeates through his clothes.

He doesn’t really get the look of it, either. An entirely metal and southern kind of aesthetic, the kind that reminds him of old bleach-blonde, wrinkly and tanned housewives with rhinestones on the back pockets of their jeans, toting puckered alligator purses. There are string lights over the walls, bumper stickers, and license plates, and all manners of slogans about Texas and being a country girl.

Modelo neon lights. Budlight paraphernalia. The bartender is wearing cowboy boots.

Steve orders a six-dollar pitcher of the house draft and Eddie whistles. Okay, he thinks, for six dollars a pitcher—he gets this place.

He waves to Robin and Vickie before pointing over to Trouble’s table but Steve and Eddie take some time to themselves to shoot the shit.

“So, are ya gonna tell me about that girl or what?”

“What else is there to tell, man?” Eddie asks as he licks the froth from his upper lip, hoppy bursts of carbonation stinging his tongue. He’s kept her a secret even from Trouble, but it’s not like there was much he could say other than, “She screwed my brains out and then I left. Nothin’ more to tell.”

Steve nods along.

“I don’t even know her name. Just called her princess or baby all the time. She’s a goddamn wildcat, knew how to ride like it was her job. Great ass, too.” A shudder passes over him as he thinks of the way she would crush him into the bed and grind until lights burst behind his eyelids.

The last few words of their conversation get drowned out by loud cheers and whooping, drawing their attention to a crowd forming behind them. People press up against each other, holding their beer bottles and glasses in the air, cheering and screaming.

“What the hell is that?” Eddie calls to Steve who sits up straight chair to get a peek over the tops of everyone’s heads. “I think it’s a mechanical bull?” He replies, shrugging. “Wanna go look?”

“Might as well.”

Robin catches Steve’s eye and sends him a nearly lethal toothy grin, cocking her head over to the crowd. “Go get her, tiger!” She yells, one hand cupped over the edge of her mouth. Eddie’s grabbed by his arm and dragged along as Steve’s interest peaks.

It’s like a concert mosh pit. Someone splashes their drink next to Eddie’s shoe, and he steps out of the way. When they reach the center of the ring around the perimeter of the stage, Eddie’s heart drops because the face he sees—beaming with joy is attached to a body he knows extremely well. Intimately. Every single inch. Her hips, gyrating in circles as she holds onto the handles of the mechanical bull—he’s seen it. Her hair, flurrying around her face in circles, moving along to the whipping of her body, adjusting with every jerk of the machine—he’s seen that, too.

“I think that’s the one Trouble was goin’ on about.” Steve announces. “Jesus, how is she doin’ that?”

Eddie is wide-eyed, turning back and forth. It’s too much. The laughter from her throat he’s previously shoved himself down. The cheer from the crowd that is deafening in his already ringing ears. Steve’s clapping– like a trained circus seal.

When the bull bucks for the last time, she leans forward and runs both hands through her hair, flicking it over her shoulders. Then, his girl, ever a gymnast, hops off and gives the crowd a bow, picking up her jacket on the way. Eddie watches her grab the same one she had on the first time they met- faded denim, worn shoulders, decorated in pins and patches.

It’s gotta be fate. Or destiny. Or maybe some fucked-up circumstance.

Her face is bright with joy, cheeks glistening with the lightest sheen of sweat, lips shiny with the way her tongue flicks out and licks it. To his right, Steve discreetly adjusts his pants, but Eddie is already rock hard. He slides back until he’s disappeared behind his friend, a smirk suddenly growing.

Trouble claps you on the back when you step out of the cushions of the ring. Robin and the rest of the gang stand by with so many questions, but you only wave them off. The secret is that in your college days you worked at a restaurant with a mechanical bull, and on your breaks you rode the fuck out of it.

Sometimes, growing up in the dirty South had its perks.

At first, upon entering the bar, you were wary and afraid you might throw out your back now that you’re not a spry young thing, but two pitchers in with Trouble and Robin and you were spitting into your hands and swinging over its seat.

Yep. You think victoriously, still got it.

“Hey!” A coif of hair sticks out of the crowd an inch or so above most other people. Steve, Trouble’s boyfriend and history teacher at Hawkins High, is grinning ear-to-ear, and you duck because you were not expecting him to witness that. Trouble smacks you on the ass and pushes you forward. “So, you hid this from us?” She asks, motioning to the bull and then up and down to you.

“Aw, fuck,” you mutter but can’t help the grin that breaks across your face. “C’mon, y’all… I didn’t think it’d come up.” Steve hands you a glass of amber, and you hide behind it with your hand, pretending to cool off by pressing it to your forehead.

“I almost forgot–” He turns, looking over his shoulder. “I wanna introduce you to Eddie, my other roommate, he teaches at Hawkins too!”

Eddie swivels into view, and any previous thoughts fly right out your head. If you had something in your mouth, you’d probably choke on it. He’s there, in all his glory, just like you remember: black leather jacket, dark stubble and eyes moving like smooth bourbon poured into a glass as he looks you up and down.

His teeth are sharp when he smiles.

“Oh, princess,” Eddie sighs, “I can’t believe you thought you’d get away that easy.”

And you think, as you stare wide-eyed at him, with Steve now coming to the same conclusion—mouth forming a silent “Oh”, you think that you are so fucked.

Maybe your life isn’t a romantic comedy at all, maybe it’s a terrible porno opening scene or some psycho sexual thriller because your former one-night stand is shooting you a mischievous grin, flexing his biceps, pulling on his lower lip with his teeth until it stretches white and snaps back plump and red.

Sensing the tension, Steve quickly turns around to the table.

Eddie cocks his head back, motioning you to follow.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #reader insert #notes on a scene - rosewaterandivy #Spotify

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sloancameronspits · 4 months

Text

Cold Sloan Creamery

A charming cutie steals your attention at your boring coffee-shop job. Turns out they've got a food service gig as well - a much sweeter one. Modern AU.

Another experiment I did with first-person stuff. Sex is alluded to but not present. Word count: 2253. Enjoy!

Five A.M. Entirely too early to be doing anything, let alone having to drag myself into work for another day; yet here I was, miserably reading the back of a shampoo bottle in the shower. Mornings like this, I would idly wonder if it was worth quitting my job. Technically, I could probably survive college without it if I took out more loans. There were benefits to working at a coffee shop as well. I just had to push through it.

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Working on campus was pleasant at least, even on the weekends it felt like I was part of a community. I had a few regulars I knew and enjoyed talking to. I was hyping myself up as I dried myself off, hoping to make the day a little less miserable. It worked slightly, as I was at least able to muster up the energy to get ready and make it there.

The lights were already on, and I mumbled “good morning”s to my coworkers as I kept preparing myself mentally for the day ahead. I made myself a small coffee - one of the perks of the job was a free drink per shift, and I needed it now - and drank it entirely too quickly for something that hot. With that, I was finally ready to start the drudgery of commerce. It was Saturday, so there was no rush of people coming to class, but there were still a few customers. Just get into the groove, it’ll be fine. I thought to myself.

I was able to dissociate and lose myself in filling orders and making drinks, and by the time I looked at the clock again I had made it to eleven. Not too bad so far, just a few hours to go. The next customer came up, looking a bit frazzled, and I couldn’t help but notice how cute they were. Cute brown hair, an eyebrow piercing, a dazzling smile - they had it all. And they would have their caramel latte with extra whipped cream they ordered in that beautiful high-energy voice.

They took their drink and sat themselves on one of our tables, pulling out a laptop festooned with stickers. A few pride stickers, including a nonbinary flag in a cute heart, as well as a litany of representations of historic places. A column from the Parthenon, a pyramid from Giza… this was clearly someone who was well versed in the wonders of the world. Exploring sounded nice right about now, trapped in work. At least it was lunchtime. Maybe I should talk to them? No, that was weird. I took another small coffee - one small coffee plus another still added up to one free drink, right? - and sat down at a table near enough to the mysterious cutie without being so close that I’d be anxious. It didn’t work. I was still anxious, hearing them tap-tap-tap away at their keyboard. I hadn’t had an infatuation this powerful or instant in a long time, and it had me sweating.

“Howdy!” They’d directed their attention to me. I was careful not to get my hopes up, but there was an outside shot that this was my chance. “That latte was really good. You seemed kinda down so I figured I’d uh, swing by?” They had taken their laptop over to my table, and were smiling that adorable chipped smile at me again.

“Oh, thank you.” I said. Don’t fumble now, I thought to myself. “I was just thinking about an assignment I have due next week.”

They nodded. “Ugh, I feel that. I was actually working on a paper about the classical structures of Rome, which I love, but the writing still gets to me.”

“That sounds unique. What degree is that for?”

Their eyes lit up and they started to ramble a bit. “Archaeology! It’s been one of my favorite topics… well, my whole life! It’s been so fun to study. Still not into the writing though.” They sighed. “I wish I could get out of the classroom and out into the field, but digsites won’t take you without the degree. Lame.”

“Where are you hoping to get to work at once you get the degree?”

They paused for a moment in thought, then continued with their mile-a-minute responses. “I mean my favorite place in the whole world is Cairo, and I’d love to get to find an undiscovered part of the Pyramids, but I worry that staying in one place will mean I miss out on all the other places I could explore! I guess my answer is that I want to travel a lot? It would certainly be better than now, where the farthest I travel is from my dorm to the gym.”

Their figure did look as if they were into working out - not too much, but they certainly looked like an arm wrestling contest with them would not be particularly close. Hot. Averting my eyes, I checked my watch. Three minutes left on my lunch break. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to work. It was really nice talking to you…” I realized I hadn’t got their name.

They realized too. “I’m Sloan! Nice to meet you too! Hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah! Best of luck on your paper. When in Rome and all that.”

They stuck their tongue out playfully as they packed up their laptop, and left with a wave. I spent the rest of my shift hoping I’d see them again soon. That said, I think I was the only one who was going to drink two coffees in one day, so I guess it’d have to wait…

---

Two P.M. I was finally free from my job for the day. Most of the time, I only worked weekends, so in a way I was already halfway through the week. Despite this, I was still willing to spend a bit to get myself a little treat. A new ice cream shop had opened near campus, and it did sound relaxing to get a cone and relax in the courtyard in the summer sun.

A small bell rang on the door as I entered, and I heard a surprisingly familiar voice greet me. “Welcome to Lindholm’s Ice Cream, where sweet treats are always…” They trailed off. “It’s you! Hello!” Sloan was there, on the job, dressed in a cute but admittedly somewhat tacky red and white striped outfit adorned with a hat and bowtie.

“You work here? I promise this is a coincidence.” I said sheepishly.

“Aw shucks, I mean you’re allowed to come visit just for me.” They said with a grin. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, um…” My order was suddenly gone from my mind, lost in their eyes. “Whatever you recommend? Dealer’s choice.”

“Not something I hear often, but I can dig that.” They said, getting a scoop out and taking a hunk of pink dessert. “This one’s a simple combination I like. Strawberry and vanilla.”

“That sounds good. Thanks!” As they took the second scoop and placed it into a cone, I took the treat. “Is it alright if I hang out here? I’m not sure how busy you guys get.”

“Of course you can! As for business…” They put their hands on their cheeks in exaggerated disappointment. “You’re the first customer we’ve had today. I don’t know if the owner doesn’t do any advertising or what, but it gets pretty boring.” They perked back up a bit. “I still get paid the same either way, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“So how long have you worked here?” I asked, taking a spoonful of ice cream. The strawberry flavor was really refreshing after today.

“Like a month. It’s honestly not that bad. Nobody comes in, so I’m not bothered. Plus, they let me mess around with my own uniform for, uh, gender reasons. Let me wear this snazzy bowtie.” They stepped out from behind the counter with their own ice cream and sat down across from me.

“This is good! My compliments to the scooper.”

“‘Course! My taste is always good.”

---

The next few weeks, stopping by the ice cream shop on days when Sloan was working became something of a ritual. It was always nice to give them some company, chat about what was going on in our respective classes, and just… soak in their energy. Their bright smile, their cheery laugh, even down to their regularly changing nail polish, they just exuded positivity and light. Soon, they started coming to get more coffee more regularly, and we spent my breaks there talking as well. It turned my feelings on work around to know I’d get to see Sloan around midway through the day.

It was about a month before during one of our conversations over ice cream that I noticed Sloan was acting kind of strangely. Their eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine, their hands trembled a bit as they served out our desserts, and they nervously tapped their fingers on their side. They sat down across from me, eyes staring straight at their ice cream. There was no one else in the store, as usual - I’d seen maybe two other customers in the last month.

“You okay, Sloan?”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Their downward gaze still didn’t change. They muttered under their breath. “¡Demonios!”

“If something’s bothering you, I’m happy to listen. Professor being a jerk again? Argument with someone?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” They breathed in deeply. “Could you come with me to the back for a second?”

“I know I come in here a lot, but I don’t actually work here.” I said with a laugh.

“It’s fine, nobody else will come in anyway.” They grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to the storeroom in the back.

“Did you need me to like, do inventory?” I said, befuddled.

“Will you go out with me?” They said, finally meeting my gaze. “I know this is sudden, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

I stood stunned for a moment, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

“This was a bad idea. I knew it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause trouble-”

“Of course, Sloan!” I interrupted. “I’d love to, I just - I’ve thought about this for so long, ever since we first met. I was just afraid to ask too.”

Sloan smiled, a big grin showing off their chipped tooth, and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much!” They mumbled into my shoulder. It was so comforting, their frame wrapped around me, the warmth of their body making the momentary anxiety fade away, their eyebrow piercing shining in the light, their goofy paper hat sliding off as they leaned into me.

“Do we need to go back out front? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Nobody’s going to show up, and I want to go further. I need you.” They cupped my face in their hands.

“Okay. Take the lead then.”

Sloan took a moment to summon their usual optimism and courage, freeing themselves from their earlier fear; then, they pulled my face in for a kiss. Their lips gave in to mine with ease, and I melted into their embrace. I could taste a hint of sweetness on them. They reached an arm around me and gently lifted me, letting me fall deeper in. This was bliss. My tongue met theirs and my mind started to go blank. The rest of the world seemed to fade out; I was focused on them exclusively.

After an amount of time - I couldn’t tell how much - we pulled apart a bit, still in an embrace but not quite as close. “Still doing good?” Sloan panted out.

“So good.” I said. “If you want to go farther I’m willing.”

Sloan thought for a second, then shook their head. “Not here. That’ll have to wait for after my shift. I don’t want to get THAT much in trouble with my boss.”

I laughed, managing to get to my feet. They did as well, and I helped them smooth out their uniform to try to hide the evidence of our little escapade. Their hair was well mussed from my hands grasping through it, so I attempted to fix it. With a few brushes of my hand in a more orderly fashion, it almost worked.

Sloan took out their phone to look at themselves. They laughed too. “Sloan Cameron, back in action, baby!” They mimed finger guns at me.

Clutching my heart in faux pain, I blew them a kiss and headed back out to the front. Just as they predicted, the ice cream shop was barren. “Looks like your job’s safe, Sloan.”

“Of course! You didn’t doubt me, did you?” They said.

As the flood of emotions faded from me, I suddenly started to notice one thing that I can’t believe I hadn’t up until now. I was freezing. “How cold is it back there?” I said, starting to shiver.

“It’s an ice cream freezer! I’m just used to it.” They said with a smirk. “I’ve got an idea, though…” They threw their jacket at me. “Just bring it back to me later! I just keep it here just in case, I’m not using it much anyway. It’s hot out.” Grabbing a scrap of paper, they quickly scrawled in messy handwriting a note and handed it to me. It was their dorm room, their phone number, and a heart. “See you soon!”

#venture overwatch #fanfic #chloe writes #venture x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron

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haikiria-san · 1 year

Text

If they were your best friend

AN: This headcanon wasn't a request, but one that I thought of doing myself, but you can ask for one if you want! <3

Synopsis: You, Y/n, are this character's best friend, what would that be like?

Characters: Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira, Nezuko Kamado, Genya Shinazugawa, Kanao Tsuyuri and Aoi Kanzaki x Fem! Reader

Warnings: None (?), Fluffy, Not Romantic, Modern! AU

Tanjiro Kamado

— He's nice to most people, that's a fact, but he's even nicer to the people he cares about.

— Tanjiro is happy to see you playing with your younger brothers, he thinks it's the cutest thing in the world when you do Hanako and Nezuko's hair or play board games with Kanata.

— He helps you study, this boy is really smart and knows how to explain well. You are in good hands.

— He is very happy when you help him cook, and if you can't make some part of the recipe he will help you.

— He'll want you to meet his friends, and he'd be happy to see you getting along with them.

— He cares about your well being and feelings, and is always there if you need comfort, this boy is just an angel <3

Zenitsu Agatsuma

— Yes, he is scared and whiny, but he is a loyal friend and loves you <3

— He's smart, but not very good at explaining. He tries his best, but always ends up fumbling a little.

— Very, very affectionate. Zenitsu will hug you whenever he can, he will always walk close to you. You are his best friend after all.

— When he gets sad or scared, Zenitsu will come to you looking for comfort.

— He doesn't much like how Inosuke acts impolitely, and is jealous of Tanjiro and his far too kind treatment of you.

— He is capable of facing his fears for you. As his best friend, you have a special place in his heart.

Inosuke Hashibira

— He is certainly the most restless among you, regardless of whether you are a quiet person or not.

— Always gets you into trouble, which has gotten you a fair amount of scolding.

— Sometimes it ends up being a little impolite, but don't get so mad. He has some difficulty expressing how he feels.

— He'll take you to meet his friends, even if he creates some competitions to get your attention.

— It's not a good help to study, please, if you want some help ask someone else.

— Inosuke is someone fussy and quarrelsome, but a really loyal friend who will be there for you in most situations <3

Nezuko Kamado

— Usually likes your help cooking, whether it's something for an outing or just snacks for the afternoon.

— She is affectionate, she likes to hug you and comb your hair. She always asks Hanako to join in when you're at her house.

— Smart, but not very good at explaining. She can help you understand something when she tries hard.

— She is not a very agitated person, so the girl usually prefers to just talk or play with you.

— Nezuko is sleepy, especially after expending energy, so you end up being the girl's “private pillow” most of the time.

— She's calm, sleepy and all, but can be someone really excited when it comes to making you happy or just being around you <3

Genya Shinazugawa

— The entire Kimetsu Academy wonders how you can be best friends with someone as scary as Genya, but little do they know that the boy is a sweetheart <3

— Even with a frown on his face 90% of the time, Shinazugawa is a true angel to you and always shows his gentler side.

— He is not a genius in subjects that require calculations, like mathematics, but he does his best to be able to help you!

— Sanemi knows you, and even though he is the way he is, he's happy inside that his little brother has a friend.

— The kind of friend who is always there for you, ready to cheer you up in happy times or comfort you in sad ones.

— He introduced you to the Kamaboko Squad, first to Tanjiro because he knew the boy would be kind to you.

Kanao Tsuyuri

— Quiet, very quiet, but she tries to be more open with you and her sisters.

— She's good with botany, and she'll help you plant and care for the flowers if you like it too.

— Tsuyuri really prefers to stay at home, reading a book that interests both of them or watching a movie.

— She's very smart, but average when it comes to explaining, so she ends up asking a few questions.

— She's already introduced you to her friends, although she still feels much more at home when she's with you.

— Kanao is not the best person when it comes to comforting with words or communicating in general, but for you she tries <3

Aoi Kanzaki

— She is certainly the most responsible among you, acting almost like a big sister.

— Intelligent but without much patience to explain, although it is a help.

— The kind of friend who is concerned about your well-being, always ready to give you a hug or a scolding.

— She introduced you to her friends, and she is happy inside to see you talking and having fun with them.

— Not fond of affection, but she makes an exception for you when you're alone.

— A very kind friend in her own way, taking care of you like a sister, showing her more loving side to you always <3

AN: I hope you enjoyed this post, until next time! <3

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kyrowmee · 3 months

Text

ᝰ dying out.

note. no thoughts, short scenario + tw. break-ups & endings, toxic relationship, love died out, onesided love? — no fluff/comfort. just pure angst + scaramouche. an old piece of mine that never made the cut. HEAVILY SELF-INDULGENT!! modern au?

The silence was deafening, although you were sitting next to each other since a long time apart—It feels like he's ever the more farther. as if you were strangers. It felt like you haven't talked in months to the point that, you don't know each other like before—No, it was like you didn't know him anymore.

How long — Has always been on your mind these days, echoing at the back of your head as another voice to listen to when dawn falls.

How long has it been since he last held your hand? How long has it been since he'd tell you the sweetest words, cooing the preaches of his love - how long has it been since he last told you, 'I love you'?

Perhaps a long time, when you cant seem to remember it anymore.

All you can remember are the bleak days of when he'd leave you to months to no end. The reassurances turning into arguments - petty reasons, and the worst part of it all, he makes it feel like YOURE the one at fault. He leaves you, alone in your shared room - letting the ringing silence of guilt eat you up until YOURE the one who apologizes.

How long - How long since he last looked at you? with those loving eyes of him once filled with so much warmth, You wait for him through every night, throughout your relationship you thought he'd be the one. Through every text messages, unread and ghosted - through all the preplanned dates moved just for him.

But for waiting as long as you have, is it worth the wait?

.. How long did you have to wait?

"Kuni-..Kunikuzushi." you call his name even if it feels unfamiliar and bitter rolling off your tongue, no longer calling him the terms of endearment that you both used to go by - because the love had already died out long ago. This was enough.. a mutual want to end it all.

You thought of yourself as a patient person, you could wait. You would always tell yourself during the late nights alone. You can adjust, You can be his greater part, is what you'd tell yourself when you're the one who reconciles with him.

But everyone has limits.

You choke out the words, fumbling with them with the nibbling of your lower lip as you think of what to say, - No, you didn't have to think really. It's obvious what you needed to say and what you wanted to say.

-'Lets Break Up.' Is what's stuck in your throat, clawing like a numbing feeling of abyss staring down at you and the years of your relationship going down the drain, and you can't find the courage to say it.

Not when you still wanted him. Not when you still wanted this.

There was a moment of silence before you talk again, glancing up at him from the corner of your eyes and he doesn't even look at you - Hell, he was doing everything to not look at you by looking at all the passerby that had walked past with more interest he'd ever had for you. That's when you knew - it was like a confirmation that you needed to just say it, there was no going back now.

"Do you.. still love me?" you stare up at him, resorting to other words to term it and it slips from your lips instead of the three words you were trying so hard to say. Cursing yourself in your head because you knew the answer all too well and you knew you were just asking for more pain. You knew it, because the first thing he'd do since getting here - was redirecting his attention to anything and everything that wasn't you.

"Do you really want an answer to that?" You stay silent for a moment, like a domino effect all the words get stuck in your throat and your breath hitches, the pain that flashes in your eyes and the sharp pang reverberating in your chest at the silent answer you knew all to well - But you wanted him to say it. you just hoped, perhaps..

But it was all in vain. Why were you just wasting your time with someone who never even wished to be here?

The fickle confidence that you gathered through the months he left you alone with your thoughts and this withering relationship, for the words to end it all - shatters in the palm of his hands like a fleeting breeze.

Right. Why would you ever work out?

He was always the sun, and you were the never changing moon.

Like the cycle, your relationship goes out like a dim flame of the sun setting upon the horizon.

Ironic that the sun really was setting at this moment and you smile up at him - one that doesn't reach your eyes,

"The sunset looks beautiful, doesn't it?"

There wasn't any hope, its for the better for us both.

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harringtons-cupid · 1 year

Text

Computer!Technician!Steve x fem!reader

-> modern au

Thanks to the guy who took my laptop in to fix, and acting very Stevecore of you.

Warnings: 18+ - sex as payment, public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, slapping, dirty talk. creampie. Squirting.

Tagged: @urlbitchin @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @beesoo13 @moonchildquinn @mcbeanzontoast @munsonsbaby @allthingsjoeq @alienthings @jamdoughnutmagician

Masterlist | KO-FI

[Feedback/reblogs are extremely meaningful. Please support your content creators]

Steve had seen you around, your brief encounter together never left his mind. You had brought your boyfriends laptop to his shop, he had repaired successfully.

So when your laptop broke, you were devastated. Your ex boyfriend had told you to just get another one but you suddenly remembered Steve.

Nervously, you pushed the door open of his shop. It was quiet as the bell jangled, a voice came from behind the screen as you waited patiently in the foyer.

“Hi, what can I do for you” he smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Uh hi, I believe we spoke on the phone” your voice was shaky as you swung your bag forward.

Getting out your laptop and handing it to him, dropping your bag on the floor silently. You could smell his cologne as you watched him fiddle with your laptop intently, scanning his facial features you noticed how the loose strands of hair fell just below his eyebrows.

Which were unattended, thick pressed together until you watched his face relax. Looking in relief at figuring out what was wrong, his eyes staring directly at you.

Not once wavering off your face as he explained in detail the problem and began to direct you through the small pieces of your laptop. You felt yourself admiring his face, looking at every crease and mark until he caught you.

His smile was small and cheeky, shifting his eyes between you and your laptop. Until he had figured out how to fix it, your eyes still on him as he quickly checked on the desktop next to him.

“So, i know how to fix it. What the plan is, we will buy the new part, take the payment off you and I will hold until the part arrives. Then I will give you call. Sound good?” He grinned at you, after spouting out all the boring information.

His muscles tensed against the soft material of his work shirt, you nodded with a smile. He beckoned you around the corner, behind the separation board and offered you a seat.

The paperwork fell between you both on the cramped table, you could feel him breathing in your ear as he watched you sign it. His hands were on the paper, pointing to where you needed to sign when they met.

Steve had thought about being this close to you since he first met you but didn’t realise, he’d be so speechless.

Laughing giddily at the touch of a hand, the scuff off a knee. A flush as your eyes gazed into his, it all happened so quickly before your lips crashed into each other. Hands fumbling onto each bit of skin, soft subtle grunts escaping out of your mouths.

Both now standing up facing each other as your lips were unable to be separated. He hooked his hands under your body and lifted you up, knocking a few things including the paperwork on the floor. Before delicately placing your back onto the wood, waiting a second to admire you before kissing you again.

Pulling off your trousers to expose your frilly pink underwear, he was practically drooling at the sight of you. Kissing down your body softly until he sucked on your hip bones, his nails digging into your skin.

“I have wanted to do this for ages” he mumbled as he edged closer to your cunt.

Your hips were twitching, something in you compelled you to be his close to him. His pretty face looking at you, the way no one else ever had.

Within seconds your underwear was around your ankles, a soft groan left his mouth as he spread your legs apart and buried his head between your thighs. His hands digging into you, his tongue was soft and silky as he twirled it around your clit.

It felt good, too good.

His tongue sped up, sliding up and down your folds. Teasing your hole before bringing his attention back your throbbing clit, your head tipping back as he pursed his lips around your clit and began to suck.

“Oh fuck. Steve” you whimpered, your hands finding his hair and tugging as he sucked harder.

Feeling your clit grow with arosal, his fingers moved from around your thighs and teased your wet cunt. Toying with your hole before sliding a finger inside, slowly curling it upwards towards your soft spot until your hips begged for more.

Grinding against his face and fingers, the sound of your dripping cunt filled the room as he slurped loudly against your clit. You were so close to your orgasm, it was riling up inside you with every movement.

He had slipped a second finger inside you that was hitting your soft spot, tipping you right over the edge until your legs shook violently. A pool of your cum dropped down your thighs and coating your ass as you caught your breath.

Panting, he wriggled his jeans from around his waist and letting them fall to his ankles. His cock was hard and throbbing against his boxers, you gasped at the sight of it.

You were shocked, excited and slightly scared. You had never taken a cock as big as his before.

Palming over his cock, you watched as he shuddered at the touch. His head tipping back, allowing you to force his boxers off his cock. It bounced back in your face, holding it tightly with his hands and bringing it closer to your skin.

He slapped it across your face, rubbing the tip around your lips. Saliva dripped down the length of his cock as it teased your mouth, you took it slowly into your mouth. Wettening it before he let it dangle as he spread your legs even further apart.

Toying with your hole, his tip forcing you open as he gradually entered inside you. You whined at the sensation, you were wet from both your own saliva and cum as his cock struggled between your tight walls.

“I don’t think it’ll fit Steve” whining again through gasps, his fingers circling your clit.

He groaned as he felt you grow wetter and wetter with every flick of your clit, his cock preying you apart even more.

“I will make it fit” moaning as you took more of his cock inside you, his tip leaking with pre cum as it throbbed.

You drooled at the him, once his cock managed to slide all the way inside you. Your legs fastened themselves around his waist and back, forcing him closer to you.

His pelvic bone slamming into your clit as he thrusted inside you, his hands stroking your cheeks fondly as he noticed that tears had dripped down your face.

“It’s okay pretty one” he cooed with assurance, quickening his face as you both rocked against the wooden table.

Your facial expression softened to his touch, staring into his eyes as you bit your lip. His cock was filling up your cunt completely, moaning in unison with every stride. His back was angled upwards, pushing directly against your soft spot.

Letting yourself be controlled by him as he fucked you, moving in time with each other. He was more sensual that your ex boyfriend, it amazed you that he had wanted to sleep with you since he first met you.

His body jerked forward, grasping onto your skin as he groaned. His eyes fluttering open and shut, leaning towards your mouth. His teeth dug into your lip and bit it as he mumbled breathlessly.

“I’m so close baby” his cock was throbbing aggressively inside you, the pressure was building up inside.

Rocking your hips against his, increasing the sensation against his length. Tensing and untensing your muscles just to hear him whimper your name.

“You going to cum in me? My stretched out cunt, all for you” panting against his mouth as you rode his cock underneath him, edging him closer and closer.

Whimpering above you, his eyes were tightly closed unable to do anything else. Shuddering again until you felt his cock twitch hard, your legs not unfastening from around him as hot sticky cum spurted inside you.

Groaning at the release of pressure, collapsing softly on top of you. Grasping onto your arms, holding you as his cock stroked softly inside you. Grinding your clit against his pelvic bone, feeling it twitch against him as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

Reaching your second orgasm, you shivered digging your nails into his arms as your body released the intense pleasure around his cock. Your eyes rolling back with the sensation and movement, he groaned as he felt you squirt hard coating his cock and body with your cum.

Leaning forward as he slowed down his pace to kiss you, wiping the sweat off your face. His lips were damp as they moved with yours, panting heavily against his lips as you caught your breath and the wave of intensity died down.

Holding him in your arms for a second on the weak wooden table, he hummed into the crook of your neck. Sweat glistened off his back as you stroked his skin with your nails, feeling his body rise and fall with satisfaction.

“I told you it would fit” he grinned at you, his hair was sticking to his skin from the sweat.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sighed.

“So i assume we can count that as my payement then?” You smirked at him, watching as he didn’t say anything.

Simply smirking at you before pulling you in for another kiss as you both felt the table give way underneath you. Laughing heavy as it reached the carpeted floor, still tangled together as you laughed together.

Neither of you moved, his cock still throbbing inside you. Your forgotten laptop was out the front on the counter as you laid together.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington concepts #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #technician!steve

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katyswrites · 1 year

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 6 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, discussions of past trauma, daddy kink, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, slight breeding kink, dirty talk, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, jealous!Steve, overstimulation, swearing, sexual harassment/men being gross, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 9.2k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 6 | honey, hell is when I fight with you

You left Steve’s apartment and made your way home in a daze. After studying the save the date and reading it approximately a hundred times, you shoved it back into the drawer and shut it. You moved quickly after that, your only thought being that you needed to get out of this apartment before Steve got back. You gathered your discarded dress off of the floor, only realizing halfway to the door that you were only wearing a robe. You paused, then scoffed inwardly - Steve probably wouldn’t notice if a few things were missing from his closet, and even if he did, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. That’s how you found yourself pulling a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants out of his dresser, nearly in shock that he even owned anything like that. You pulled them on quickly, hardly caring that they didn’t fit right, pointedly ignoring the fact that the clothes smelled like him - his aftershave, a hint of smoke, and something so distinctly Steve.

You tore out of the elevator and stumbled onto the street, blinking in the bright morning light. You stalked up and down the streets for a while, realizing that you really didn’t know your way around this side of the city - Steve’s chauffeur had always driven you to and from here, and you had never had much of a reason to come here previously. After what felt like ages, you found a bus stop, luckily with a line that would take you back home. You didn’t remember much of the journey home after that - it was all in a blur, the blood rushing through your head making your ears roar, your hands shaking and breathing heavily.

A million thoughts ran through your mind, forehead pressed against the glass as the city flew past. The image of Steve and Nancy was imprinted in your mind, the text of the invite practically memorized. You felt your eyes burn, but did everything within your power to not let any tears fall. The initial shock was already wearing off, and you found yourself fluctuating through a range of feelings: Devastation. Regret. Sadness. Anger. As the moments ticked by, anger seemed to be winning.

You felt like an idiot, an absolute fool for not considering this as a possibility. Steve had felt too good to be true, and it’s because he was. It explained so much, really - why he rarely talked about home, evaded questions about his personal life, why he traveled so much for work… were those trips to other cities and countries just back to the United States, a quick rendezvous to see his wife? You felt stupid, small, and used. And that was why, with each passing moment, you became angry.

Steve is lucky that you weren’t still at the apartment when he came home. If you were, there’s a good chance you would’ve killed him. How could things have gone wrong so quickly? Twelve hours ago, you were writhing beneath him, Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ears as he touched you everywhere. Just two hours ago, you had woken up in his bed, waiting for him to come back with breakfast, blissfully unaware. But now… now, you just wanted to scream, to wish you had never met him. You’d rather be run down and broke if it meant you never had to feel like this.

You were still working through these thoughts as you made the walk from the bus stop to your apartment, moving on autopilot as you went up the stairs and opened the door, fumbling with the keys thanks to your blurring vision and shaking hands. You made enough of a ruckus that Robin was glancing over from where she was seated on the couch, grinning.

“Hey! I was about to send a search party, but I’m guessing that the night went pretty great -”

It was a miracle, really, that you had held yourself together as long as you did. But, the moment the door had clicked shut behind you, and you saw Robin’s beaming face, you lost all semblance of composure that you had been holding onto. You felt the tears start to fall, fast and hot, and you let out a choked sob.

Robin was up off the couch and to you in seconds. It was like a dam had opened, the tears flowing, your body convulsing as you fell into her arms.

“Oh, babe,” she whispered, “what did he do?”

You just pulled her tighter, burying your face into her shoulder as the wave of devastation finally, truly set in. You were an absolute mess, and it was all Steve Harrington’s fault. You decided then and there that you would always hate him for it.

******

The first thing he did was text you. When you heard the telltale ding from your phone, you instinctively knew it was him. Your nose was runny, your eyes red and puffy as tear stains dried on your cheeks, warm and sticky. Robin has unearthed some chocolate from the cupboard, scrolling through Netflix for something comforting to watch. You glanced down at your phone, your stomach turning at the sight of his name on the screen:

Hey! Is everything okay? I thought you’d still be here. If you had somewhere to be though, I understand - errands this morning took longer than I thought. I hope you had fun last night.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you read it. This, of course, was followed immediately by another round of tears, albeit more quiet and soft. You couldn’t help it - despite feeling cried-out, your vision blurred as you felt the tears start to fall again. It felt ridiculous, to let him make you cry like this. You should be furious, over this already, but it still just made you sad, as stupidly simple as that sounded.

You felt Robin’s eyes on you, and you just turned your phone for her to look. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, fuck him - if I ever see him out in the wild -”

“I’m just - I’m not going to respond,” you said, voice a bit thick and hoarse still.

“I mean, if I were you -”

“But you’re not,” you snapped. “And I just don’t want to talk to him, okay?”

Robin went quiet, staring down at her hands.

“Yeah - okay, no problem -” she said, voice quiet. You felt a surge of guilt run through you.

“Robin - hey, I’m sorry. It’s not you, I’m just -” you sighed, pinching your temples.

“I know,” Robin said softly. “It’s okay - I get it. I mean, fuck him, right?”

You feigned a thin smile, wiping your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Fuck him.”

Robin leaned back, opening up her arms. You took the invitation and laid down on your side, putting your head in her lap and facing the TV.

“What’re we watching?” you asked quietly.

“Whatever you want, babe,” she replied, running her fingers gently across your scalp.

And, for a while, you pushed Steve from your mind, fell into a state of acceptance, and let yourself appreciate having someone like her in your life, when seemingly everyone else had let you down.

*****

Steve texted you four more times that day, the first coming a few hours later. The longer you went without responding, though, the quicker he sent a follow-up, each message growing increasingly frantic:

Is everything alright?

Are you free to talk right now? I just want to make sure you’re okay.

This is going to sound stupid, but I’m freaking out a little - can you at least let me know you’re alive? And that you made it home okay?

Do I need to send out a search party? Because I will, if I have to.

Then, around 4pm, the phone calls started. The first time your phone buzzed, you ignored it and let it go to voicemail. For a while, you opted to just leave your phone in your bedroom and stay in the living room with Robin, ordering takeout and watching terrible reality television. It almost took your mind off of things. Almost.

At some point, Robin broke out a bottle of wine that had been hiding in the back of the pantry. It was pretty cheap, which you probably wouldn’t have noticed before. But lately, you’d only been drinking the good stuff. Still, it got you a little tipsy, made you relax just a bit, and you soon found yourself laughing like a child with Robin over something so silly, you couldn’t even recall what it was. Then, it was getting late, a little past midnight, and you remembered that Robin had work in the morning.

You probably would too, soon. You’d likely have to go back to the coffee shop, and ask for your shifts back. That would be easy - the gig at Enoteca might be harder to get back. You had enough money banked from Steve’s allowance that you’d be fine at least for a while. But, before the semester started back up, you had to begrudgingly accept that you’d have to get back to your shitty jobs again. But, that was a problem to deal with tomorrow. For now, you put on a brave face, and bid goodnight to Robin.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” she asked from the bathroom doorway.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Not right now. But… I’m dealing with it. Don’t worry too much about me, okay?”

You knew she’d probably let you sleep in her bed with her tonight, if you asked. You’d do the same for her. But it felt childish, and you had a feeling you already weren’t going to sleep well tonight. So Robin frowned, but nodded, murmuring, “Yeah, alright.”

You soon found yourself in your bedroom, alone. The moment the door shut behind you, you let out a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time since arriving home that day, you were actually alone.

You moved slowly, pulling on your pajamas and sliding under your covers. You sagged with relief, the weight of the day fully sinking in. You were exhausted, so deeply that it seeped into your bones. For a moment, you wondered if you would sink deep enough into the mattress that you’d fall right through, and never come back up.

You were letting your eyes flutter shut when your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You groaned, rolling over and squinting at the brightness of the bluelight. Steve’s contact name was on your screen - you suddenly found yourself thankful that you didn’t actually have any pictures of him, because the thought of seeing his contact photo on your screen right now was too much to handle.

You had been letting it go to voicemail all day. But, this time, you pressed DECLINE.

The screen goes dim. You click it on, and see a notification:

Steve Harrington

Missed Call (8)

You shook your head, laughing sardonically. You should’ve been spiteful, and left that wedding invite out on the bed for him to find, so he knew exactly why you didn't want to speak to him.

Despite yourself, you pictured it again in your mind. The photo of Steve and that woman, smiling and picture-perfect against the sunset. The giant diamond on her finger, the way his arms were wrapped around her. And, her name: Nancy Wheeler.

You knew that you shouldn’t do it. But, you were so morbidly curious. So, despite better judgment, you found yourself opening up Instagram, and typing in her name.

You scrolled through a few, until you finally spotted a profile called @nancewheeler with an icon that you were 98% sure was her. You tapped on it, only to find it to be private, much to your disappointment. Although, maybe it was for the best - what were you expecting to find? Photos from her wedding? Posts with Steve, wishing him a happy birthday, going on trips, spending holidays together? That would only be more painful.

She had more than a respectable amount of followers for an average person, and she looks just as beautiful in her tiny profile photo as she did on the card. The profile reads:

emerson 14’. columbia ‘16. permanently peckish.

IN → NY

You bit your lip. Even with these small scraps of information, she seemed smart, cool, and more put-together than you’ve ever been.

Next, you went to Facebook - you found her profile, but it looked like it hadn’t been active for several years. The last public update was in 2018 - it was photos from a Christmas party. And, sickeningly, Steve is in the pictures, laughing as she’s curled into his side, both donning Christmas sweaters and paper crowns.

Steve looked younger, and maybe the happiest you’ve ever seen him. You closed it quickly, feeling stupid for the way your eyes burned when thinking about it. Next, you Googled her name - and, a lot came up. She was a writer for the New York Times. She’s published some hard-hitting stuff - exclusive profiles, breaking news coverage, in-depth exposes ranging from political cover-ups to tainted city water supplies to sexual harassment in Hollywood. You hit the paywall after a few articles, but you scrolled through the headlines. She was the real thing. Of course she was. How could Steve not fall in love with her?

You closed the browser and shut off your phone, throwing your covers over your head and burying your face in the pillow. You willed sleep to overtake you, but instead, your phone buzzed again. You huffed, twisting around and snatching it off of th nightstand. You declined the call again, put the phone on Do Not Disturb, and rolled back over.

This time, though, you let the tears fall. You had been holding them back ever since your breakdown with Robin earlier. But you weren’t done yet, and you had known it - but now, you sobbed into your pillow. You weren’t sure when sleep came and put you out of your misery, but your last thoughts before drifting off were of Steve, and how you hated him, but not as much as you wanted to.

*****

TWO DAYS LATER

“Seriously, it’s fine,” you assured Robin. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know! It’s just… I feel shitty for going on a date while you’re… well, you know.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just because I’m going through a tough time doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have fun.”

Robin crosses her arms.

“I’m just saying -”

“Robin! This is what, your fifth date with Vickie? Sixth? You like her - I see the way you talk about her. Just go - seriously, I’m just going to be here, watching TV and eating leftovers. Go have fun on my behalf, yeah?”

Robin pondered it for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah, okay - but, if you need anything -”

“Just go, will you?” you said, smiling. “I think I can be alone for a few hours, you know. Or… maybe more than a few, if it goes well -”

“Ugh! Gross!” Robin cried, grimacing.

“What’s gross about me wanting my best friend to get laid? If you don’t come home, I’ll just assume that you’re hav-”

“Okay, you win! I’m leaving, maybe forever!”

“Bring an umbrella!” you shouted.

You laughed, settling into the couch and turning your attention back to the television as you heard the door click behind her. The apartment was quiet - you hadn’t really had it to yourself in a while, and as comforting as Robin’s presence was, you were glad to be alone for a bit. And, although it was bittersweet, you couldn’t help but feel giddy that things seemed to be going well with Vickie - after hearing Robin rave about that cute girl in my art history class for a whole semester, you had told her enough was enough, and she should buck up and ask her out. Occasionally, you were capable of giving out good advice, it turns out.

A storm was raging outside, the rain pounding against the glass as the wind whistled. It was forecasted to pour all night, much-needed relief after an unusually hot and dry past few weeks. To you, that meant a night in sweatpants, getting under the covers early, and falling asleep to the sound of the rainfall. To you, that sounded just fine.

Even though it had only been a few days, you found yourself thinking of Steve less than you thought you would. Granted, that wasn’t much. But, it was something.

To say you got your heart broken would’ve been dramatic. He wasn’t your boyfriend - outside of bed, there was nothing affectionate between you two. Your relationship had been an arrangement, a transaction, and nothing more. No, instead, you just felt used - he knew exactly what he was doing. And, you had been stupid enough to fall for it. When you thought of him, you just felt dread, a stroke of anger, and ultimately settled on defeat. He still called, and occasionally texted - asking what was wrong, wondering if he did something, demanding an explanation. He had left voicemails, too - you hadn’t brought yourself to listen to them. Hearing his voice was too tangible, too real. Besides, there probably wasn’t much he could possibly have to say to you. You had considered blocking his number several times - Robin had practically demanded it. But, every time you tried, your finger hovered over the button, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

It was a little past 8pm when you heard a knock on your door. You were munching on popcorn half-watching a Netflix rom-com while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You jumped, glancing over the couch towards the door - was it Robin? It must be, if it wasn’t somebody ringing the buzzer from downstairs. Maybe she was locked out. That would be really early for her to be back, though - unless somehow, something had gone terribly wrong on her date. The thought of that alone was enough to form a knot in your stomach. You leapt up from the couch, practically running to the door. You were so frantic, so worried, that it hadn’t even occurred to you to check through the peephole and see who it was.

You braced yourself as you unlocked and opened the door.

“Why are you already -”

Then, you froze. Because, standing there in the doorway, dripping with rainwater and shivering, was Steve Harrington.

His eyes widened when he saw you, his chest heaving - he must’ve run up the four flights of stairs. After a few seconds, once the initial shock wore off, you straightened up, moving to immediately slam the door in his face.

“Wait, hold on-” he started, catching the door in his hand. You considered trying to slam it even harder, hopefully to catch his fingers in the process, but you decide to relent.

“Please,” he said, voice a bit softer. “I - give me five minutes to explain, yeah? If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll walk out of here, and never come back. I promise you.”

You held his stare, pointedly trying to ignore his pleading eyes, and the way it made something in your chest crumble. Fuck.

“Goddammit,” you muttered under your breath. You sighed, taking a step back and opening the door, only just wide enough for him to shoulder his way in. You took a few steps back, crossing your arms and popping your hip. He was smart enough to keep his distance, standing on the other side of the room.

It was only now that it occurred to you that he had never been in your apartment. You had always made him wait downstairs, embarrassed by how small it probably would seem to him, how juvenile and messy the place looked. You also became acutely aware of your oversized threadbare t-shirt, your old sweatpants, the fact that he had never exactly seen you like this before. You felt the blood rush into your cheeks, the self-consciousness suddenly all-consuming.

No, you thought, I’m not the one who should be ashamed here.

So, you straightened up, holding firm. This was your home - he wasn’t much more than an intruder in it.

The way he was looking at you wasn’t unlike how you imagine prey looking at a predator, unnervingly wary, frozen in place. After it became clear that you weren’t going to be the one to initiate the conversation, he took a deep breath.

“Okay, so - I have a feeling why you disappeared on me.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, do you now?”

Your words were curt, tone biting.

“Yeah, well - okay, look - I’ve been really worried about you. I thought something had happened. Or, maybe I scared you off with something I said, or did… but, I thought it was crazy to come over here, even though I thought about it about a hundred times -”

“Well, yeah, showing up unannounced to the place where I live, in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night - that would be crazy, good thing you didn’t -”

“Yeah, I get it. But, the point is, I didn’t know why you left, or what happened, until now. I was cleaning up around my place, and - all of my stuff kind of has its place, you know? And, I saw my spare phone charger plugged into the wall, and I thought that was weird, because I didn’t remember putting it there… or pulling it out of its drawer…and that’s when I knew. You saw - what you saw, it isn’t what you think -”

“Isn’t it?” you asked. “Because to me, it looks like you had a wedding last September, Harrington. Let me guess - you had to come live abroad for what, six months, and couldn’t go that long without getting laid? I mean, you’re just like the rest of them -”

“Baby, no -”

“Don’t call me that!” you cried, not even realizing how close it was to a scream until it came out. You felt your eyes welling up, starting to sting, and you internally scolded yourself for letting him already get you like this.

“You don’t get to call me anything, I’m not your anything -”

“I’m not married!” he finally said, screaming to be heard over you.

You stopped mid-sentence, pausing for a moment, then scoffed.

“Do you really expect me to believe that? I saw it - Nancy, is it? Is she back in the U.S., just completely oblivious?”

He winced visibly at her name, like it was something foul.

“I wouldn’t know, considering I haven’t spoken to her in a year!”

It’s silent for a moment, both of you breathing heavily with frustration, too worked up. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words died on your tongue. He was still holding your gaze, unrelenting. There was something in the way he was looking at you, something saying please. You just held your ground, arms still crossed, mouth shut.

Steve took a moment, shutting his eyes and exhaling deeply, gathering himself.

“I - she called it off. Like, two months before the wedding. We - we had been having some issues. I ignored them, because I wanted to make it work. I really did. But… she didn’t, I guess. So, we went our separate ways. I haven’t seen her since she moved out of our - my, place. I swear to you - I didn’t lie to you.”

You bit your lip, letting your eyes drift downwards to the floor to avoid his gaze as you considered what he was saying. He had a lot of reasons to lie - but, there wasn’t much evidence suggesting that it wasn’t true. You nodded slowly.

“That’s not true,” you said.

“What?”

“That you didn’t lie. That’s not true.”

“I’m telling you -”

“No,” you interrupted, snapping up to meet his eyes again. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt for like, 5 minutes, and believe you. Believe that you aren’t with her anymore, I mean. But - you still lied. Back at the coffee shop, when I asked why you didn’t want a real relationship.”

His shoulders sagged a bit.

“What makes you say that?”

“You said you’re too busy - married to your job, don’t have time, all of that. And yeah, maybe that’s partially true. But don’t tell me that Nancy isn’t part of that. She is, right?”

He stared at you for a moment, considering what you were implying carefully, and nodded slowly.

“Yeah - kind of.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything that happened, but I need you -”

“No, I’ll tell you,” he conceded. “Can I sit?”

You nodded in the direction of the couch, watching him as he slowly walked over and sunk down. You stayed standing, holding your ground. He sat there for a moment, and you could tell that he was trying his best to compose himself. After a deep breath, he started talking.

“Nancy and I met in college, my junior year. We didn’t go to the same school, but we were both living in Boston, ran in similar circles, all of that. I’ll be honest with you - I was crazy about her, from the second I met her. And, I don’t know, it felt right, I guess? Or, maybe it didn’t, and I just wanted to lock it down, hold onto her. She also came from a good family, my parents loved her, all of that. So, after she finished grad school, I was already working my way up in the company, so I proposed. I’m sure a lot of people thought I was crazy - we were still pretty young, you know? I honestly was shocked that she said yes. I guess that was a sign, right?”

He was hardly looking at you as he told the story, his words careful and measured. His voice was quiet, solemn.

“So, we were engaged for a while - things kept getting in the way. Or, maybe we were searching for reasons to delay it all, I don’t know. Looking back, here’s so much I didn’t know. But, I was working a lot - long hours, late nights, traveling constantly. And Nancy was making her own name, always busy - she’s a journalist, a really good one. So, we hardly saw one another. And when we did, it was like we were strangers. Or, even worse, we kept fighting about stupid shit. Like, who was supposed to wash the dishes, schedule mix-ups, the wedding guest list. I think we were just both stressed with work, and we were both starting to figure out that we had less in common than we thought. And then… one night, at a friend’s wedding, Nancy got drunk. Like, really drunk. And she didn’t do that often, and I was honestly happy to see her letting loose. But then she had a little too much fun, started stumbling, feeling sick, and I tried to get her to leave. And, that’s when she started being brutally honest about everything.”

His voice got thick for a second, and he paused for a moment to pull himself together. This was painful for him - really painful. The kind of pain that you can’t make up.

“I won’t get into everything she said, but - I replay that conversation in my head, constantly. It brought a lot of things to light - we didn’t love each other the same way, and we didn’t want the same things for the future. She was totally blackout, of course. So the next day, when she was sober, I told her what happened, and asked if she meant it. She couldn’t answer me. And you wanna know the most pathetic part? I still wanted to fight for us, to proceed with the wedding, figure it all out… but I guess it got her thinking. I came back from work a few days later, and she was gone. She packed up all of her stuff, left the ring, and a note. And that was it. I haven’t seen her since. So yeah, you’re right - I’m not looking for a relationship. Because I don’t need anything like that to happen to me ever again. You wanted honesty? There, you have it.”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands.

This was a version of Steve you’d never seen before. There was a lot about him that you still didn’t know, sides you haven’t seen, you knew that. But this…

There were now a few more things about Steve Harrington of which you were absolutely certain, adding to your ever-growing list. He was heartbroken. He was scared. A part of him, however big or small, was still yearning for Nancy, wistfully mourning what could have been. And, he was telling you the truth.

In theory, he could’ve been lying about the whole thing. He could have fabricated some detailed, believable story about his forlorn ex-fiancee, playing up the heartbreak, putting on the performance of a lifetime. But you just knew - from the way his voice had sounded, the way his body sagged and deflated, the way he was now staring at you to gauge your reaction: he was being honest with you. And, everything about your arrangement, the way he spoiled you, his desperation when you were in bed, his stony persona outside of it… all of the pieces were falling into place. And you had just spent the last two days in agony for nothing.

He wanted you to say something, you knew that. But, you didn’t say a word. Instead, you kept his stare, slowly crossing the room until you were right in front of him. He never tore his gaze away from you, eyes following as you slowly sank to your knees, down to his level.

“So, are you gonna say some-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, because you were kissing him, soft and slow. He stiffened, then relaxed, easing into the kiss. He brought his hands to your face, grasping you gently as he pulled you close.

“You don’t have to -”

“No,” you said firmly, cutting him off. “Stop talking. There’s only one thing I want to do right now.”

“What?” he breathed.

“Make you forget all about her.”

His eyes widened, and you were on him again, situating yourself in his lap. You started kissing him again, but more hurriedly, hungrily. He responded, melting back into the couch as you straddled him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groaned against your lips, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. You let him, smiling at the way the telltale bulge was already growing in his jeans, the way he moaned when you brushed over it.

It had only been a few days, and you realized then how much you had missed him, as silly as it sounded. But the smell of his cologne, the taste of him, the sounds he was making under you, everything that was Steve - it was addicting.

So, the pair of you found your way back to your bedroom, gnashing teeth and tongues, whimpers and groans into each other’s skin, and hardly any actual talking happened after that.

*******

That night, you did your best to keep your promise to make Steve forget all about Nancy. With the way he was screaming your name by the end of it, you considered it a success.

You kissed him all over, pressing your lips and dragging your tongue over him until he was practically putty, begging you to touch him. And you did, wrapping your mouth around where he wanted you most. And, you had your fun, making up for your pent up frustration - you edged him, teasing and pulling him right to the peak until he was begging for release, practically crying. He was a mess, babbling a nonsensical cacophony of sweet praises, filthy promises, calling you his good girl and baby. When you finally lowered yourself onto him, you made him look at you as you rode him. You experimented with how far you could push it, forcing his fingers to your clit as you did.

Oh, daddy, you had moaned, looking down at him smugly. Does this feel good? Do you like when your good girl rides you? I bet you do. C’mon, daddy - make your girl cum, yeah? I need to cum on your cock, sir. Cum inside me, you know you want to -

And he did, just like that, a desperate mess beneath you. You were so worked up, the rollercoaster of the last few days coming to a head, that you followed moments later, pulling him close as you came down from your highs together, chests heaving.

Afterwards, he had kissed apologies into your skin, whispering all the ways he was going to make it up to you. You just quieted his worries, whispering, “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No,” he replied softly.

“Okay. Then the rest we can handle.”

And that was that. You didn’t even say anything when he fell asleep, right there in your bed. Instead, you buried yourself into his side, and had a peaceful sleep for the first time since the night of the gala.

Things went back to normal after that. Or, something like it. There was of course an explanation needed for Robin - she had nearly thrown a plate at Steve when she saw him in the kitchen the next morning. It took some talking down, and a series of death glares shot in his direction, but when you got her alone, she eventually decided to believe you, allowing Steve Harrington to live to see another day. It was easy enough, considering that the conversation quickly pivoted to the fact that Robin had spent the night at Vickie’s. She just blushed, punched you in the arm, and grumbled something about minding your business as she stalked back to the kitchen.

No, things weren’t back to normal. Yes, you and Steve resumed your arrangement, going out to nice dinners, having (incredible) sex after, and continuing your payments. He even gave you back the earrings you had purposely left back at his place the morning you had stormed out, despite your insistence that they were far too opulent. But, he was persistent, and they now sat on your nightstand, glimmering even in the dimmest light.

But, there was something new now. It was unspoken, barely tangible. For all you knew, the feeling was one-sided. But, Steve had shared this personal, vulnerable side of himself with you. You knew far more about him than you ever had before, and more often than not, you couldn’t help but notice the air of melancholy that followed him at all times, subtle yet unshakeable. And, you had shown him more of yourself than you had intended, too. You could be stubborn, and spiteful, and would much rather throw up walls and run than face the possibility of putting yourself in a position to be abandoned. Your immediate jump to a conclusion about Steve’s marriage, and your reaction after, was enough to prove that. He had seen this ugly, not-so-reasonable side of you. But he had come back anyway, and he continued to take care of you in every sense that he had been before.

A few weeks later, he texted you in the morning like he often did:

Hey there - are you free tonight at 7?

You found yourself smiling at the message, only to immediately catch it and stop. You responded:

yep - ill be ready for you

He responded almost immediately:

Perfect. I’ll see you then - maybe wear the necklace I gave you, that first one? I like seeing you in it.

You felt your face heat, the novelty of him telling you what he liked to see you wear still not completely worn off. You felt yourself smirking as you sent back:

anything for you daddy

You saw him start typing. Then stop. Then start again.

Christ - I’m in a meeting. You’re going to pay for that later.

Still feeling bold, you sent one last message:

i really hope so 😉

That was how you found yourself out to dinner at yet another 5-star restaurant, sipping wine and perusing the menu. You were debating with Steve whether to get appetizers or not when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You looked up, eyes shooting towards the direction it came from, and immediately smiling when you spotted him.

“Eddie?”

And there he was: Eddie Munson, your dear friend. He had his long curls tied up into a loose bun, his shirt more unbuttoned than buttoned, a camera slung over his shoulder. His tattoos peaked through the rolled-up sleeves and on his collarbone, and you could swear he’d gotten more since the last time you saw him. You practically jumped up out of your seat, giddy as he came right up to the table. You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace without a second thought.

“Ciao, bella,” he said endearingly, laughing in your ear. He pulled back, looking you up and down as he continued in Italian, “Look at you! Did you raid a model’s closet, or something?”

You giggled, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, stop - don’t act like you’ve never seen me look nice!”

“You always look nice, sweetheart. It’s been so long!”

“I know!” you said excitedly. “I mean, it’s been crazy so far this summer. I -”

You stopped yourself, then just shrugged.

“It’s been busy, that’s all.”

It was then that you regained awareness of Steve, who stared up at both of you from where he still sat at the table. His brow was furrowed in confusion, and you realized he probably barely caught a word of what you and Eddie had been saying. You caught his eye, and smiled.

“Eddie, this is my - well, uh… this is Steve,” you said in English, gesturing between the two men.

“Steve,” Eddie said warmly, extending his hand. Steve took it, shaking his hand firmly. Taking your queue, he continued in English, “Pleasure to meet you. You’re lucky to know this lady right here, you know.”

You felt yourself blushing, and shook your head vigorously.

“Eddie -”

“I’m just being honest, bella!”

Steve finally spoke up, taking a second to clear his throat.

“I, uh - how do you two know each other?”

“Oh, well, we both are at the university together,” you explained. “Eddie was actually a teaching assistant for an art history class I had to take. It wasn’t exactly my thing, but he really is the reason I passed.”

“Oh, c’mon, you excelled in that class. You’re smart -” Eddie started.

“So… you guys are… friends?” Steve asked tentatively.

“Yes, the dearest of friends,” Eddie answered. “We just don’t get a chance to see each other too much lately, since I finished school.”

“What’re you doing here, anyways?” you asked.

“Oh - the restaurant hired me to take some photos for their website. Pictures of plates of food, the space, ambience, that sort of thing. Not exactly my passion project, but it pays the bills, right?”

“Eddie’s a photographer,” you explained to Steve, turning to glance back at him. “And, well, a musician - his band is great. But, he’s an amazing photographer, a real professional - you should see his stuff!”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said quietly.

“But, darling,” Eddie started, “you really should model for me again. I swear, these gigs are killing me - I want to shoot something beautiful again!”

You felt the heat creep up into your face even more, and just shook your head.

“Oh, stop it -”

“Model?” Steve asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“Yes!” Eddie said enthusiastically. “Our girl here, she’s a marvel in front of the camera - I used her for so many projects in school, even shot her for my final portfolio. She’s like my - ah, what’s the English word… muse! Yes, my muse.”

“Is that so?” Steve asked slowly.

“He’s exaggerating, I just posed for a few projects he was in a pinch for -” you started.

“And I need to feel passionate like that again. You should come by the studio, seriously, I’d feel alive again -”

“Totally!” you exclaimed. “Text me the address, let me know when you’re working. I’d love to come by!”

“Beautiful,” he said, grinning in the way Eddie always does. “Well, I’ll leave you back to your meal, but it was lovely to see you.”

“Same,” you said, beaming. He leaned forward, leaving a kiss on each cheek, and he set off back behind the bar, setting his camera on a tripod as he returned to work.

You settled back in your seat, smiling to yourself. Steve was just staring at you, his face neutral.

“So, you and him… you’re close?”

You shrugged, bringing your eyes back to the menu.

“Yeah, you can say that. He really helped me with getting a better grasp of Italian, too - you should’ve seen me that first year, I was so lost. He’s a nice guy, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly. “Seems… friendly.”

For the rest of dinner, Steve was strangely quiet. Not silent, exactly - he still laughed at your jokes, chimed in on the stories you told, and, his breath audibly hitched when your hand found his knee under the table. He paid the bill quickly, both of you simultaneously deciding to book it to the car as fast as you could. He yanked open the door and gestured for you to go in, quickly following and slamming it shut behind him. As the car peeled away from the sidewalk and towards Steve’s apartment, a silence fell between you. The entire ride was silent. When you arrived at Steve’s building, you both exited the car and went upstairs without a word. Something was off - it was enough that you couldn’t really bear it anymore, and once you were through the door, you just blurted it out.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

You shrugged.

“It’s just - you’ve been kind of quiet. Something on your mind?”

Steve stood on the other side of the island in the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Eddie,” he mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “What about Eddie? Do you know him or something?”

“No, no - but… you do. He just seemed… is there something I don’t know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Were you and him ever… well, you know…”

That’s what this was about? Eddie? You found yourself starting to laugh, palm to your mouth as you shook your head.

“Oh, God no. We’re just friends, and always have been.”

“Someone should tell him that.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, you don’t get it - he’s like that with everyone. He’s just, so… like that. Seriously, he could flirt with a brick wall. And he probably would, to be honest.”

“He was calling you his muse -”

“He’s dramatic like that -”

“And what kinds of pictures was he taking of you, exactly?”

You furrowed your brow, Steve’s face set like stone. Then, realizing what he was implying, you felt your face heat.

“Come on - my clothes were on, if that’s what you’re asking. But, quite frankly, even if something had happened between me and Eddie, it’s not really any of your business.”

His face faltered for a moment, and you realized you had struck a nerve. You sighed, pressing your hand to your forehead.

“I just mean that… you don’t have anything to worry about, okay? He’s just a friend.”

Steve’s jaw clenched, and he nodded.

“Okay.”

Part of you was pissed off that this conversation was even happening. But another part of you was thrilled. The thought of Steve actually being jealous… It was new. It was exciting. And, you couldn’t deny the way the thought of him being worked up like this, and just a bit possessive, over you… your heart fluttered in your chest. So, you just smiled slyly, taking a step towards him.

“It seems like someone’s jealous,” you murmured.

“I’m not -”

“Yeah you are,” you said, now nearly face-to-face with him. “Does it piss you off? The idea of me and Eddie? Do you think about him… touching me? Me screaming his name? You must’ve thought about it, right?”

You noted how his hands were clenched into fists at his side, and you smirked. You were close enough that your noses were nearly brushing, and you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him.

“I don’t get jealous,” he whispered. “I don’t do that.”

“Prove it,” you said.

Then, he was on you, crashing his lips into yours. He was desperate, greedy, taking your face in his hands as he kissed you like it was the last thing you’d ever do. It was a blur after that - stumbling into his bedroom, shedding clothing on the way. He held your shoulders, keeping you in place just where he wanted you, practically manhandling you as he posed you towards the mattress. You had to do everything you could to suppress your grin - a lot of the time, you were in control, Steve moldable like clay in your hands. But this side of him… it was thrilling.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he practically growled, hovering over you. “You’re going to do everything I say. You’re going to lie there, and when I’m done, you’re going to cum three times, at least, got it? Just so you don’t go thinking anyone else can do this for you, baby - just me. Got it?”

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded. His eyes were dark, and part of you wondered where this version of Steve had been hiding this whole time. Maybe you needed to piss him off more often.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… yes, daddy.”

That was enough to get him going. He practically pounced, kissing you fast and hard, and perhaps a little messily. He worked his way down your body, practically tearing off your bra like it was some horrid contraption meant to keep you from him. Your back arched as he took one breast in his mouth, the other in his hand, massaging it and flicking over your hardened nipple. You gasped, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Could just touch these tits all day, baby,” he whispered into your skin. “Really could… but you want something else, don’t you.”

You bit your lip and nodded, watching as he pressed open-mouthed kisses into your skin, making his way down your navel, your hips, and then skipping where you wanted him, opting to ghost his lips over your inner thighs instead. You groaned in frustration, hips bucking as he continued to take his time.

“Patience, baby,” he breathed.

He brought his hand to your center, running his thumb along your slit until it was coated in your slick.

“Look at you, already so wet for me, and I’ve hardly touched you. Were you thinking about me, already worked up before you even got here?”

You pinched your brow, nodding as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your clit, a barely-there touch. You shivered, practically whining his name.

“What’s that, baby?” he asked sweetly.

“Fuck - touch me, for god’s sake -”

“I am touching you -”

“You know what I mean!”

“Not sure I do,” he said coyly, coating more of his fingers in your wetness, still avoiding where you wanted him most. You groaned, realizing you’d have to play into his game to get what you wanted.

“Fuck me with your fingers Steve, please -”

And he does, easily plunging two fingers into your cunt without a moment’s hesitation. You gasped, throwing your head back as his thumb found your clit. He rubbed deep, slow circles, pumping his fingers along your walls. Your hips involuntarily bucked as he brushed against that one spot inside of your, knowing your body by now like the back of his hand. You were already close, worked up far too quickly to the point that it was embarrassing.

“Fuck, you’re already squeezin’ me, baby. Are you close? That’s so fast, princess. You’re such a good girl, fucking yourself on my fingers. Can you scream my name while you cum? Are you able to do that?”

Instead of answering, you fisted the sheets, hips moving with his hand as you chased your high. It hit you out of nowhere, the heat pooling between your thighs and spreading through you, blissful and rapid.

“Fuck, Steve - fuck, I’m coming, shit, Steve, it’s so good -”

He just hummed approvingly, pulling his fingers out of you. You huffed in frustration, still mid-orgasm, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“What the -”

Then the words caught in your throat, because he dove in, pressing his tongue against your still-sensitive clit. You were still coming down from your high, and he hardly gave you a moment to breathe. He worked you through the rest of your orgasm with his tongue. But, he didn’t stop. He continued, lapping at your pussy while you twitched and convulsed. You were too sensitive, tears stinging your eyes at the overstimulation.

“Oh, fuck - oh my God, Steve -”

You reached down to where he was settled between your legs, gripping his hair. You tugged perhaps a bit too hard, and he just groaned in response. He groans as you tug on the brunette strands, arching your back with the movements of his tongue. You planted your feet into the mattress, moaning as his tongue circled your clit.

You weren’t even sure if you had ever stopped coming, the reprieve from your orgasm moments ago practically nonexistent. Your legs were shaking, and you were screaming, maybe the loudest you ever had in bed. The words were tumbling out of your mouth, because it was too much, it was everything, your mind going numb.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck - Steve, god, just like that - it’s so good, it’s too much, I’m gonna cum again - oh fuck -I”

It took one more circle of his tongue over your clit, and you were done for - your back arched enough that your head came off the pillow,his name on your lips as you screamed, tugging harshly on his hair as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

He continued to work you through your orgasm, hands placed firmly on your hips as he licked lazily at your folds, pressing deep thumbprints into your skin that you knew would leave bruises.

You felt tears running down your cheeks, your entire lower body still shaking as he brought his face back up to yours. His mouth and chin were glossy, his grin devil-like.

“What a good girl,” he whispered. “Was that good?”

“Mm,” you murmured, hardly able to find the words. “So good, thank you.”

“Can you do another?” he asked, dropping the mask for a moment - you considered for a moment. You reached down and ran a finger over your clit, wet and puffy, wincing slightly at the stimulation. But you just bit your lip as you looked up at him.

“I promised you three, sir,” you breathed. “I’m gonna cum three times, just like you asked.”

His eyes darkened, and he grinned wickedly.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“How do you want me?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. He thought for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder.

“Up against the glass,” he said, voice low and rough.

You followed his gaze to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the whole city. Your eyes widened, your heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Yeah?” you asked sweetly. “You gonna fuck me so everyone can see?”

“The whole fuckin’ city, baby.”

You were on your feet in an instant, bounding over to the window. You pressed your back against it, the cool glass seeping into your skin as he stalked towards you, unbuckling his belt. He was practically fully dressed still, in stark contrast to how you stood bare before him. You realized then and there that he intended to keep it that way - he was going to fuck you fully clothed, still in his suit from dinner.

“Turn around,” he said.

Oh.

You nodded, doing as he said. You felt him behind you, his breath against your ear.

“You’re fuckin’ dripping - got you nice and ready for me.”

“Anything for you, sir,” you whispered, casting a glance at him over your shoulder. “Do your worst.”

And he did. Without warning, he entered you from behind in one rough push, making your gasp and mewl around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping against your ass. “That’s it, baby - you can take it, can’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “fuck me, please -”

And he did, pounding into you hard and fast. You cried out, palms pushed against the window. Your breasts brushed the cool glass, and he picked up the pace. You squeezed around his cock for good measure, knowing that you were practically soaking it. He pressed his face into your shoulder, lips against your skin.

“So good for me, baby - letting me fuck you, after all that? Who else makes you feel this good?”

“Nobody?” you sighed.

“What was that?”

“Nobody. Just you.”

“Damn right,” he said, voice cracking. “This pussy is mine - I can’t wait to cum in it, what a good girl - my princess, my baby, so good for me. Can you cum again? Can you do that?”

You nodded weakly, following his movements as you threw your ass against his hips. He had never taken you from behind before, and the new angle was enough to nearly send you over the edge. There was something so primal about it, so thrilling - the image of him thrusting into you from behind, your naked form pressed against the glass. Rome sprawled before you, and though you were too high for anyone to actually see you, part of you liked to imagine that they could, any passerby on the street able to see Steve Harrington fucking your brains out.

“You should see yourself, all fucked out on my cock like this - are you close again? Are you gonna cum?” he breathed, skin slapping against yours. You reached down, rubbing fast circles on your clit to help get you to your peak.

“Yes, oh god, yes - fuck, Steve - daddy - fill me up, please, harder. Fuck your little girl, let everyone see, please -”

And that was it for him. He let out a guttural groan, his spend filling you up as he came. He thrust into you a few more times, and you clenched around him as you followed, coming with a cry. You threw your head over his shoulder, shaking and clenching on his cock as you came for the third time that night. It was white-hot, devastating, the scream you let out feeling like it was ripped form your fucking soul. You had had a lot of orgasms with Steve, him drawing feelings out of you in bed that you had never had before. But this - there had never been anything like it.

As you both stood there in silence, his cock still buried in you while you breathed heavily in unison, you knew two things for certain: first, you needed to get Steve jealous far more often. And second - he had completely, utterly, ruined you for anyone else. You tried your best to ignore the terror that set in with that thought, and kissed his shoulder instead, holding onto the bliss for as long as you could.

author's note: I know the wait was long for this, so thanks for sticking around! It's also barely proofread, so if there's mistakes... just act like you didn't see them. As always, shoutout to Em for fueling the fic, and getting me to actually write. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

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