#I don’t know if this makes too much sense

[satoblue]

you know those safety precautions women take just to feel a little less vulnerable in their own homes? house alarms or extra locks — even a pair of men’s shoes by the front door?

well, yours are sneakers. slightly scuffed and huge — just enough to pass as believable. like there is a man of the house. and honestly, you’ve never thought twice about it.

that is — until satoru visits your home for the first time.

like always, he’s halfway through teasing you. this time, it is about your adorable entryway rug. the sorcerer is passing through the doorframe, ducking his head slightly due to his towering height when he suddenly halts in his tracks.

the words stutter to a stop on his tongue. the very tip of his right dress shoe hovers in the air above the floor where he stands frozen — paralyzed.

you can sense the shift in the air. it is not hard to miss. after all, satoru never goes quiet just like that. not unless something shakes the man.

and consider him shaken by the sight in front of him.

he spots a pair of men’s sneakers in the corner of his eye. nothing flashy yet glaring. one is upright, the other on its side. as if they had been haphazardly kicked off just recently.

there’s an eerie silence. a pause. a throbbing in his chest.

to be honest, you didn’t think he’d notice. but that’s the thing about him — you always underestimate what he notices. what he sees.

because in a millisecond, those six eyes are scanning for a thousand possibilities — racing with infinite thoughts you can’t read. but you can feel it — the way his whole body has gone absolutely still on reflex.

“what are those?” he questions lowly.

there is no humor. no teasing grin. just a raw, shaky edge in his voice. and for once, he doesn’t even bother with the usual sarcasm to hide the hurt that’s bubbling up in his chest.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you — it’s that he wasn’t ready to feel this much about the idea of you letting someone else in. of having another man in your life. the very notion makes him sick to his stomach.

you blink, a bit caught off guard by his bothered demeanor and you hurry to explain.

“satoru, it’s not what you think— those aren’t anyone’s. they’re mine… for safety. you know, to make it look like a man lives here.”

soon enough, you watch your words land. you see the way his shoulders shift, the tension breaking only slightly with relief. but then — something darker shifts in his expression. angrier.

but not at you.

at the world.

at the fact that you even have to think that way. that pretending to belong to a man is the easiest shield society gives you.

satoru doesn’t say much after that. he just looks at you for a long, long moment before pretending as though it never even happened.

but the next time he comes over, he comes with a bag. and when you glance by your front door — the old pair is gone.

now, they’re replaced with a pair of his own — some obviously beat up sneakers from his school days. the kind he only kept around for nostalgia.

you lean against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed as you watch him shuffle through your pantry.

“so…” you start carefully, “are you gonna tell me what happened to my shoes, or should i guess?”

“it’s more convincing if they’re worn,” he huffs back quickly like he rehearsed in the mirror, trying to act nonchalant. but you see the way his eyes dart to the shoes in the front — his shoes now. as if making sure they don’t walk off on their own.

“they weren’t even really yours anyway…” satoru grumbles, acting like an unbothered cat marking its territory as he searches for his favorite chips you always keep stocked up for him.

“seriously didn’t expect to walk in and see another guy’s shoes by the door — off brand by the way.” he notes, continuing to mumble to himself before taking a little peek at you. “kind of a jarring welcome, don’t you think?”

you roll your eyes at his behavior. it’s clear as day — he was jealous. not that he’d admit it. not yet anyway. he’s too proud to admit he had gotten jealous over nothing.

when he finally finds his snack of choice, he shuts the cabinet and closes the distance between you in two lazy steps, arms slipping around your waist like it’s second nature and pulling you in close. your heart skips a beat.

“besides,” he adds, mouth close to your ear, voice dropping low. “you could’ve just told me you needed protection.”

and with that, satoru releases you before plopping onto your couch, big sock clad feet propping up on the coffee table like he owns the place — like he’s the man of the house now.

“my savior…” you mumble sarcastically, watching him open the loud bag of chips before popping one in his mouth and flashing you a charming grin as he chews happily.

but you know him. you know that there is something fierce beneath the casual tone — an unspoken promise.

he’s offering — no — he is telling you that he’ll be your home security system. unlimited plan. premium package. comes with a hot boyfriend as a plus.

because there is no world where he’d ever let anything happen to you. as if anyone could even dare to try.

[luna-azzurra]

Writing characters who don’t know they’re in love

(PS: but literally everyone else does and is so tired)

These characters aren’t clueless, no, they’re not walking around like, “love? never heard of her.” They know something’s going on, they just won’t admit it (not to themselves, not to anyone.) Maybe they’re scared of messing it up, or maybe they think the other person doesn’t feel the same. Maybe they’ve stuffed the feeling so deep even a NASA rover couldn’t dig it out.

Whatever the reason, they’re not avoiding the truth as much as they’re…rebranding it. Calling it “friendship” while giving each other their only jacket and dreaming about each other’s voices like it’s totally normal behavior.

ꕤ They don’t realize it’s love, but they notice everything else. They clock every mood shift, every absence, every little thing. They definitely  know when something’s off.

⇢ “You changed your hair.” ⇢ “You looked upset earlier.” ⇢ “You didn’t text me back and I panicked.” ⇢ “You weren’t at lunch and it felt weird.” ⇢ “Are you cold?” hands over jacket without a second thought

They don’t say “I love you,” but their actions scream it constantly.

ꕤ they get weird when someone else gets close They’re not jealous. No, how dare you think something like that… they’re just keeping an eye out. For safety... Or whatever."

⇢ “Who was that?” ⇢ “Oh, you’re hanging out with them again?” ⇢ “I just think it’s interesting how you never cancel on them.”

They don’t say it, but they hate the idea of being replaced. It stings more than they’re ready to admit.

ꕤ they make excuses to be around each other.

Literally inventing reasons to be in the same space.

⇢ “Wanna study together? I’m struggling with this topic.” (They’re not.) ⇢ “Oh, I was just in the area.” (They weren’t.) ⇢ “You forgot this.” (It’s a single pen.)

They’d rather lie badly than admit, “I just wanted to see you.”

ꕤ  Their friends are so over it Everyone around them is either rooting for them or trying not to scream.

⇢ “You’re in love with them.” ⇢ “That’s not friendship, and you know it.” ⇢ “You made them soup. FUCKING SOUP. Just say you’re married already.” ⇢ “If I have to hear you talk about them one more time, I’m charging rent.”

Friends are the Greek chorus of this situation, like, brutally honest and endlessly tired.

ꕤ  There’s always a moment they almost figure it out That one soft, unspoken beat where the truth almost breaks through.

⇢ Watching them laugh like it’s the first time. ⇢ Seeing them cry and wanting to fix it more than anything. ⇢ Realizing no one else makes them feel like this. ⇢ Thinking, God, they’re beautiful.

Then they blink, panic a little, and go, “Huh. Weird.” And move on. Like absolute fools.

ꕤ  When it finally hits, it’s not cute, it’s catastrophic. Suddenly everything makes sense and feels like too much.

⇢ Flashbacks. ⇢ Internal screaming. ⇢ “Oh no.” ⇢ “OH MY GOD.” ⇢ “Has it always been this obvious??” ⇢ “Wait. Everyone knew?!”

Yes. Everyone. The friends, the neighbor’s cat. You were the only two who didn’t get the memo...

[cameronsbabydoll]

BASIC TRAINING — CHAPTER TWO

WARNINGS — power imbalance, suggestive comments, physical touch (shoulder, hair, guiding), age gap tension, gaslighting-style manipulation, rafe being icky/possessive, grooming-adjacent behavior, internalized guilt

You weren’t supposed to be alone.

Your dad gave you rules. More than rules, really—an entire itinerary. You were supposed to read for your summer classes, organize his files, avoid the barracks, and “keep to the other officer’s kids if you need friends.”

Except the other officer’s kids are twenty-somethings with active duty assignments or civilian lives far from here. They don’t sit at mess. They don’t linger by the soda machine. They don’t stop and say hi.

But Rafe does.

You don’t know his name yet. Not officially.

You just know the way his eyes linger. How his shoulders stretch his t-shirt. How his dog tags swing low when he jogs past you in the mornings—shirtless, dripping with sweat, smirking when he catches you staring.

You hadn’t meant to stare.

But it’s hard not to.

He’s… tall. And mean-looking. He has a buzzcut that makes him look even meaner. You’re not really into tattoos, but he’s got one on his arm you keep thinking about. A snake winding around a dagger.

You’d only noticed because he caught you looking. Again.

And then he winked.

It’s been three days now since you arrived on base. Your dad is swamped. The heat is unrelenting. You’ve reread the same chapter of your textbook six times and still don’t understand what Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is even about.

So you get up early.

You walk the perimeter road.

You grab a Coca-Cola from the machine outside the barracks. Sit on the shaded curb. Watch the soldiers run drills in the distance, far enough away that you don’t feel weird about it.

That’s where he finds you.

“Didn’t peg you for the early morning type.”

His voice startles you.

You twist around fast, can already feel the pink rising in your cheeks. It’s him. The man from the jogs. The tattoos. The stare. He’s not in uniform this time. He’s in a white shirt and gray sweats, both clinging like they’ve earned the right to his body. You hate how that thought even forms.

“I—uh. I didn’t know anyone else came here this early,” you manage, gripping your drink tighter.

He smirks.

“And here I thought this base was crawling with rules.”

There’s a beat. “But I guess that only applies to the rest of us.”

You blink. “Huh?”

He crouches a little, elbows resting on his knees. Close, but not too close. His eyes flick to your soda.

“You know there’s coffee inside, right?”

You shrug. “I don’t really like coffee.”

“Right.” He squints like he’s just realized something. “Sugar rush, not caffeine.”

He says it like he knows something about you that you don’t.

Then: “Makes sense. You’re a sunshine type of girl.”

“A what?”

“You know,” he grins. “The kind that wakes up humming. Writes in a pink notebook. Says stuff like ‘golly.’”

He leans closer. “Am I wrong, sugar?”

You feel like your brain short circuits. You try to laugh, but it comes out awkward. “I don’t say ‘golly.’”

“Yet.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

He just keeps looking at you. His gaze feels heavier than it should. You shift in place. His eyes follow the movement, pausing too long at your knees before flicking back up to your face.

“I’m Rafe,” he says finally. “Staff Sergeant. Been here too long.”

You nod. “Nice to meet you.”

“You got a name, princess?”

You tell him.

He repeats it. Quietly. Like he’s tasting it.

It shouldn’t make your stomach flutter.

After that, he starts showing up more.

He always has a reason. Always casual. Always calculated.

You’ll be carrying a box of your dad’s reports—he takes it from your arms without asking.

You’ll be at the vending machine—he guides your hand to press the right button.

You’ll be reading alone—he sits just close enough that you can smell him: sweat, cologne, something like cedar and anger.

Every time he calls you princess or sugar, you go still.

He’s so much older. More experienced. Bigger. His voice is always low, like he knows you’ll lean in to hear it better. And you do. Every time.

One afternoon, he catches you by the printer in the admin hall, struggling to staple a stack of papers. Your dad asked you to file them, but the staple keeps jamming.

You hiss softly, shaking the thing out. That’s when a broad hand appears behind yours.

“Move,” he says. You do, startled.

He fixes it in seconds.

Then he looks down. You hadn’t realized how close he’s standing. You’re basically against the wall. His hand is still on your shoulder, firm.

“You gotta be careful with these,” he says, low. “They bite.”

“Yeah.. I-I noticed,” you whisper.

He leans in, his mouth next to your ear.

“You ever been bit before?”

You don’t answer.

Your cheeks are burning. Your eyes drop to the floor. You know he’s watching them water.

When he finally pulls back, he taps your chin once with his finger.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

You try to avoid him the next day.

But it doesn’t work.

You’re walking back from the mess hall, still chewing a bite of banana bread, when a shadow falls across the path in front of you.

It’s him.

You stop. So does your breath.

He raises an eyebrow.

“No ‘hi’ today?”

You look down. “I didn’t see you.”

He hums. “That’s a lie.”

He steps forward. You step back.

But it’s just one step. Then he sighs and hooks his fingers into your bag strap.

“Relax, sweetheart. I just wanna walk with you.”

You’re not sure why you let him.

But you do.

He walks slow. Leisurely. His hand brushing yours every few seconds, like he’s testing to see what you’ll do. You don’t pull away.

When you reach the main building, he tugs your strap again—just a little.

“I ever make you uncomfortable, you tell me.”

You blink. Look up at him.

“No,” you say. “You haven’t.”

That smile again.

The one that makes your chest feel weird.

“Good girl.”

You can’t stop thinking about that for the rest of the day.

Not the words. But the way he said them.

Low. Rough. Possessive. Like it meant something.

Like you meant something.

[pearlofamphitrite]

Yeah I personally didn’t enjoy it too much. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the sets and the props and the work that went into that. I liked the dragon designs. Stoic, Gobber and Fishlegs were my favourite characters. From an artistic point of view, everything looked visually good, but from a writing point of view, I didn’t like it.

It didn’t add anything to the story that the first movie didn’t have already. In fact, one of the important scenes (the terrible terror scene) was removed. The first half of the movie felt rushed, scenes didn’t have enough time to breathe, dialogue was kept in from the original movie even when it didn’t make sense/flow with the scene. Some of the characters told us what we should be focusing on instead of showing it to us like the original movie. (Prime example was when, during the final battle, we hadn’t seen that the creature had wings and Hiccup points out “oh it has wings!” And then only we see it’s wings. It’s a tiny detail, yes, but things like that add up.)

I just don’t see the point in remaking a movie if you aren’t adding anything to the conversation. And you can’t expect to remake a shot-by-shot film to the original and not have me compare the hell out of it. Yes, I may be nitpicking, but I’m sick of live action remakes and the fact that their only purpose is to say “hey I’m better coz I have real people”. Animation is a cool medium of storytelling and it’s perfectly okay to create a film in animation that’s not supposed to be translated into real life/real people. That’s the point of animation.

Anyway, it wasn’t an awful remake, but I don’t understand why (I know because of money) they had to remake it in the first place.

people saying that the live action how to train your dragon is good actually because it's basically just a shot for shot remake of the original... then why the fuck would I watch it when I can just watch the (more visually stunning, not a blatant cash grab) original

[chrollohearttags]

𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎. 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛

studying has been taking up a lot of your time (and mental energy) as of late. Your boyfriend has just the plan to shut your brain off for the night.

black nurse!reader (fem descriptors), eren is a nursing student (a few years younger than reader also) fingering, neck kissing, choking, facefucking, rough-ish sex, squirting, missionary, slightly aggressive rennie 🫠, daddy is used once, nipple play, calls reader slut, spit play, fingers in mouth, creampie, multiple orgasms

word count: 5.3K

🎙️: some of y’all might remember this AU from Wattpad and I’m officially restarting it bc my muse for the others are shot right now. If you’re not familiar with it, I apologize in advance bc I promise it’s not this smutty and juicy in the slightest ☠️ I’m just in a mood. Also, this is my first fic in almost two months, please be nice or I’ll cry!

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“You know you play too fucking much, right?”

“Mmmm..nah, I don’t think I’ve played enough. Look at you. All tense and shit.”

if there was one word in the entire English language that you could use to describe your mood at the moment, it’d most certainly be irritable. To the highest degree..and granted, that could have been chocked up to the fact that you hadn’t eaten in hours, you’d been staring at textbooks and computer screens since four in the afternoon and your phone screen read nine thirty..and to really add the proverbial icing atop the cake, this annoying ass man would not leave you alone! Here it was only a week away from your BSN final; two from his N-CLEX exam and here he was bullshitting as per usual. It was how he approached most things in life, his mantra if you will. No need to stress, what’s meant to be will happen.

too bad, you couldn’t take on those sorts of ideologies when so much was at stake! Not when the results of these tests would determine your future as an RN and instructor, and his career as a nurse in general. You’d met Eren Jaeger almost three years ago when he was merely a patient at the office you worked for during your initial internship..earning clinical hours and experience in the field. He was most certainly the liveliest one you’d seen in Dr. Smith’s office and there was never an appointment where you didn’t leave in stitches because he’d made you laugh so hard. However, you pegged him as the rich kid, the son of a doctor with no ambition or common sense...always looking to make a joke out of everything.

so imagine your surprise when you were tasked with not only supervising an entire floor but the local nursing school recruits as well and the first person to come traipsing through those heavy double doors was him! And even more so, in six months time, he’d have you wooed and swept off your feet. That same charm and wit that had you cackling during his appointments were the same ones that made you nearly spit your drink out when you were on a date and eased serious tension among your staff after a rough night on the floor. Just being in his presence brought you immense comfort. However, at the moment…

“Look, Eren. I’m busy, find sum’ else to do, for real.”

you weren’t in the mood for any of it! This exam had been causing you immense stress and it seemed that no matter how hard you studied, retaining information was impossible. Nothing stuck and you were at your wits end..certainly not in the mood for childish antics.

”I’m trying but you don’t want to stop—“

“Maybe because everything isn’t a goddamn joke to me.”

Eren could see the frustration, hence why he had come up behind you, in a half assed attempt to make you scared and somehow wound up groping your chest in the process. Admittedly, he’d never seen you act like this..never even so much as raise your voice at him and here you were, lashing out. Part of him understood your feelings. He knew how important this was and although he wasn’t showing it, he was equally as nervous for his own test. But regardless, nothing was going to change tonight and especially by sitting here irate and snappy. The only thing he wanted to do was shut his brain off and wanted his beloved (y/n) to follow suit..and he was willing to make it happen by any means!

“Eren, what did I just say—“

one thing that he had learned since being together was that once your mind was resigned to something..there was no changing it. So rather than spend time arguing with you, he had another solution!

“..I heard you, I don’t give a fuck about all that right now…’just trying to help..”

“You’re trying to help me by fucking me? Righttt.”

“Yes, I think it’s a very helpful tool for relieving stress. Seen that somewhere in my text book or sum’..”

“Mmm, I think me and you were studying different materials..but sure, why not.”

seconds later, his hand was snaking around your upper body, clutching your throat with the other steadily pulling the chair back and his lips marking your neck with soft kisses. He was adamant in making sure that you got proper rest and a distraction. What better way to do so than to wear you down? Eventually, you’d find those large hands of his snaking around to the front, making home back on your plump breasts..soft, voluptuous and perky as they sat up in your tank top. He could see you visibly enjoying this little tease, indicative by the way your muscles relaxed. He’d continue to massage them until your legs almost instinctively parted.

That’s when, before you even had time to react, he’d spin you around to face him. His grasp still firm around your throat as he moved in for a kiss. Your tongues collided in a steamy clash; smacking against one another as you attempted to catch your breath. But he wasn’t leaving you much room to do so, less known, attest him right now.

“Exactly..now keep those legs spread and don’t move.”

the command was so absolute and matter of fact, it damn near caught you off guard! He’d never spoken to you in such a manner. It was always so playful, jovial and even a bit needy during times like this. But alas, you’d awoken this side of him and you were going to have a hell of a time ‘calming’ him down. Even so, you’d follow his order just this once and part those thick thighs until that plump center, sheathed by the smallest pair of shorts he’d ever seen. Your physique truly was something special…thick in all of the correct areas with stretch marks and a semi-pudgy tummy to match. Your belly ring dangled from the gentle force of him maneuvering you around.

“Eren..I—“

“Whatever you’re about to say, save it…you don’t always have to handle shit alone. I got you..just let me help, okay? I promise, you can trust me..”

he was aware of your past..how mean and cruel previous partners had been so he was very careful in how he approached you. He understood all too well that being overly aggressive would only prove to make you anxious or even shut down entirely. His intention was never to make you uncomfortable. Even so, he wanted to see you give yourself to him fully…trust that he would do right by you and not take advantage of the precious gift that was your love.

he would take great care of you to not only relax but feel pleasure like you’d never experienced it. Although you seemed a bit reluctant, you were ready for whatever he was going to toss your way! Assuring him that you were all his for the taking..

“Fineee…I trust you..”

without a moment of hesitation, he’d detach from your own mouth and move down your neck. Whilst those tits remained exposed, he’d prompt you to give each of those nipples a light squeeze in his place. Meanwhile, his own hands were busy gliding into your underwear, trying to locate that aching bud. That long, tattooed forearm gliding down the center of your torso as a result. It would also serve as a semblance of comfort when he inevitably brought you to ecstasy..

“Mmm..there we go, baby..fuck, you’re so wet already.”

“That’s because you were grabbing on my neck..”

“Oh you like that, huh? I’ll keep it in mind..”

you wouldn’t know it but when you first began dating Eren, he was completely inexperienced. Although he wore his confidence like a lapel pin, he was incredibly timid, shy and nervous when it came to intimacy. The first time you two actually had sex, he lasted all of three minutes before he forced himself to pull out and splatter you with a heavy load. Left a trembling mess, his entire face turned beet red as he just glared at you. He was certain you were going to leave him right then and there; flustered and apologetic, he’d try to make up an excuse as to why he couldn’t satisfy you to your full potential. However, you thought it was adorable! He’d worked up all of his courage to give you a night filled with pleasure and even though it didn’t pan out quite the way he imagined, he had made a complete turnaround since that night and had done good to broaden his sexual horizons. You grew together; learning one another’s ticks and desires, which he knew each of yours to a science. So much so, you practically melted within his grasp and wanted to see just how far he’d take it!

“Open your mouth f’r me, princess…” prompting you as he causally glided those fingers across your tongue. Your gorgeous brown eyes fixated on him in a lustful gaze..by this time, you’d come to completely face him with that tall, lanky frame hovering above. You were all but level with that rising tent within his sweats. Meanwhile, his opposite set of digits were good and preoccupied with your juicy cunt; tightening around the base of the knuckles and then releasing once he’d use the thumb to stroke your swollen clit. Such an awkward position to be in at the moment but it was well worth it for the amount of pleasure both of you were about to receive. Finally retracting the ones in your mouth, Eren would leave you with a trail of drool seeping down your lips and chest in the process. Looking fucked out and starved already without so much as even a single thrust yet..that was the type of desperation and submission he wanted to see from you..

“ ‘ren…lemme suck on that dick..”

although he was trying to maintain control, who was he to deny your very blunt request? After all, he knew if you were dripping now, this would inevitably have you overflowing. Just as the first hand did, he’d slowly withdraw from those tight folds and allow you to clean up the remnants before tugging at that elastic waistband. “oh shit..I knew you’d come around. Here, baby..”

suddenly, you’d feel that same grasp on the back of your head, tugging you forward so that he could align himself with the rim of those pretty lips. The softness brushing against the tip as he rubbed them around…teasing you. “There you go..kiss it—stick your tongue out..that’s it..” from there, (y/n) needed no further instruction. Without the guidance of your own hands, you’d take his entire tip into your mouth and begin to suckle. Suctioning in, enclosing the silkiness of those jaws around his cock. “Fuck..you don’t need me to tell you anything..just make me feel good, princess..like you always do—“

he was well aware of how deviant you truly could become when the need arised. From outside appearances, you always looked so poised and proper..never getting out of character and to some, you’d even come off as ‘boujie’. However, Eren got to see the multitude of your complex layers; dispelling the notion that you were dull or boring. Including this one..the very promiscuous side that would do whatever it took to get hers and make him climax too! When it came to the bedroom, you were adamant and steadfast in what you wanted and he had no issue fulfilling those requests. Eventually, you’d take another couple of inches before establishing a rhythm. It didn’t take long for the very audible sounds of slurping and gagging to emit as a result. You’d gaze up to see Eren’s head resting back on his shoulder blades; groans spilling out in a whiny huff as a result of it all. You could be rather relentless when it came to pleasuring him but he didn’t mind it one single bit, of course!

“Oh my—shit, baby. You take me so good..fucking your own face like that. I love it..”

those words only served as further encouragement and inevitably prompted you to cradle his balls in addition, knowing how sensitive they were. Giving them a light squeeze, you’d continue forcing his shaft between your jaws; the sloppy wet strings of drool pooling down your chest serving as a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself. Where limits should have existed, there were none and it wasn’t long before he’d find himself buried to the hilt of your throat with your forehead scraping his pelvis. With that salacious gaze fixated on him, Eren had to all but restrain himself from forcing a load down your esophagus. But to be fair, this was the outcome he desired so badly and kept pestering you for.

“F—fuck! You’re not playing fair, baby.. ‘gonna make me come if you don’t stop..”

that deep tone with breathy whimpers cried out as he struggled to maintain his composure. However, you weren’t interested in letting up when he so rudely disturbed your study session. He was going to pay for breaking your focus! In a quick slight of hand, you’d shift his member into your palm and his sack in between your lips. Making slow jerking motions until you’d lean back up and coat both with exorbitant amounts of saliva. Seeing how filthy and unabashed you had become for him was causing Eren to lose his mind. Sometimes, he felt as though he couldn’t keep up with you and this was one of those moments. Although this little sexual escapade was his idea, you’d seem to have taken full, unequivocal control of the situation.

“That’s exactly what I want…”

“Then gag yourself on this dick, baby..let that stress out.”

that look in your eyes screaming for him to give you every ounce of his creamy nut…wanting to swallow every drop. Eventually, you’d begin to writhe around against the desk chair, attempting to create friction and stimulation for your clit. Your nipples had once again become extremely hard and the slightest brush was driving you crazy. Eren had heard your response loud and clear, which led him to sandwiching your head between those same fingers that had once curled up inside of you. He’d prompt you to take his cock back into your mouth so that he could work out all of that cum of his own accord.

the pace mirrored that of heavy, rough strokes..ones you’d get to experience soon enough. Gag spit along with loud moans poured out as a result of his brutal pounding but you welcomed the sensation..even increasing it by reaching down and fingering yourself in his place. “..yeah, play with your pussy, baby..” It wasn’t even a full five minutes before you noticed his stride beginning to break and his toned legs trembling. The last couple movements were off kilter and choppy but soon, you’d have your reward in the form of his seed. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, damn—‘coming—“

in that very moment, (y/n) would find yourself held in place by the tight grasp of his palms as he allowed that thick cock to pulsate in the back of your throat. The warm fluid filled your oral cavity until he could muster another drop. The entire time, his loud groaning was permeating the room as well. Once he was able to regain his senses, Eren would slowly withdraw and examine the aftermath. That towering six foot something frame would take a step back to truly take in the beautiful sight in front of him. You were drenched from the neck to your belly button in silky fluids…that wrung out tank top sat idly underneath your breasts and those shorts were halfway around your thighs at this point. To say he’d make an absolute wreck of you would be an understatement.

“Lemme look at you…”

proudly displaying his work of ‘art’, you’d cup those saliva laden tits and squeeze them together with your tongue dangling. By the look on your face, something told him that you were more than happy he’d interrupted you! “Yeah..that’s how you should look. Happy as fuck.” Shoving his thumb between your puckered lips, he’d then bend down to shove his tongue into your mouth for a sloppy peck.

but something also told him that you couldn’t be satisfied with merely sucking him off. You needed—no, you deserved more.

“Are we done? If so, imma be disappointed.”

“Of course not, baby..I got you.”

Regardless of how lightheaded that orgasm had made him, he leaned forward and took you into his grasp. Hoisting you up in one fell swoop to carry you to the bed that was a mere ten feet away. Once he had you flat against the mattress, he’d make haste in disrobing you of those clothes to render you completely naked. He’d follow suit and tug his sweats until they reached his ankles so he could kick them off. Once the two of you were left with only your bare flesh, Eren wasted no time in pinning both your wrists and ankles behind your head. But not before propping your head up with a pillow. A position that led to excitement riddling your face. From this angle, you could watch it go in and out together. With you exactly where he wanted, your boyfriend began the descent down your torso to that plump center. Those fat lips drenched in slick whilst that aching bud protruded between them. He knew you were already overly sensitive so he didn’t want to keep you waiting for much longer but the selfish glutton in him just had to have a taste of that divine nectar.

“Just be patient with me..’need to make sure you’re good and ready first..”

immediately, your eyes would roll to the back of your skull and a nervous giggle arose as well. Make no mistake, he allowed you to have your fun but it was his turn to take control now. Delving headfirst between your thighs, Eren began his quick descent onto that swollen pearl and lapped around it. You’d immediately grasp at the sheets, eyes trailing to the back of your skull as those feet dangled in the air. He’d keep you at bay with a hand clutched around your throat as he continued exploring those folds with his tongue. For a split second, his head would raise to make eye contact with you.

“Fuck..you really needed this, huh? You’re already starting to come..” alluding to the fact that your juices were spurting out as he scooped his tongue inside of your hole and rubbed that sensitive clit. It seemed his skills grew better and better each time you two had sex. He was far more attune to your needs and desires, even more aware of them than you were sometimes.

“Y-yeah!..how’d you learn to do that?” “What can I say? I got a hell of a teacher...” tossing you a wink and a smirk because you truly did turn him out when it came to the bedroom. He’d continue lapping and tracing his tongue intricately throughout your folds until he received the beautiful payout of you squirting all over his face. Try as you might to harbor restraint, it was to no avail and of no use…that tight entrance would spasm before more would spill forth. Just to increase that pleasure, Eren added a finger in hopes of coaxing more out.

“Give me that cum, baby..that’s it. Make a fucking mess for me..” and you certainly didn’t disappoint. The shower of sweet juices continued for another minute or so before you’d lie there, spent and breathless from such an amazing orgasm. Once he’d gotten his fill, your boyfriend would return to the surface for air and to get a good look at your current state. “You taste so good..love making you squirt in my fucking face..” Breaking into a sadistic chuckle, he’d readjust so that his palms were stationed firmly on the backs of your thighs and that he was centered right between them..in that moment, he’d slide his throbbing member across the sensitive core and tease it for a moment. But you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

“Eren, please don’t play..I need you so fucking bad right now..”

nearly in tears from the pending overstimulation and the overwhelming need to be stuffed full of his cock. Your walls would ache and spasm in anticipation; so much so, he’d watch you reach for his hips to guide him in. But naturally, nothing with this man came completely easy…he had to mess with you a bit for all of the resistance earlier. Just as you went to grab him, he’d pin those wrists back in one fell swoop with one hand and use the other to press into your stomach.

“I know you do…that’s why you’re gonna beg me for it.” Immediately being met with a look of shock and a bit of infuriation. Even so, you’d remain there, lying in wait until he got what he wanted.

“I mean, you were being all fussy earlier..I’m not convinced you really deserve it..c'mon, princess…change my mind.” he was so assured of himself and honestly, you were in no position to attest. The desire grew stronger with every passing moment and if he didn’t deliver soon, you were bound to implode. “Fuuuck, Eren! Please—“ “That’s better but not quite..tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.” Besides, when he hovered above you like this, looking so fucking attractive and domineering, you felt no other choice but to submit. So setting your pride aside, (y/n) began to grovel..whimpering and bucking your hips to meet the friction of his shaft rubbing against your wet folds. You’d tell him how good he made you feel and that your body was his for the taking, unequivocally. Finally, that submission and trust he had craved..best believe, he was going to take care not to break it. After your speech, he’d seem content and proceeded to tap the head of that appendage against you before gripping the base and making one full glide across the outside and shoving it inside. Sucking his teeth and moaning as he made place between that flesh.

“Oh fuck…that’s it, gorgeous. Right there..”

you’d release a whimper of your own as you became acclimated to that thick shape. You’d clench around him once before releasing and he knew he couldn’t sit idle for long. With haste, he’d begin slamming his hips forward, quickly trying to establish some semblance of a rhythm so that he didn’t blow his load too quickly. Upon being immersed in that juicy cunt, he’d find his knees buckling from the sensation.

“..pussy’s so fucking tight..and warm..oh God, I love you so much..” his whiny yet deep moans complimented by the sounds of smacking flesh. With your hands now planted firmly on your asscheeks, per his instructions, you’d keep it spread open so that he had ample room to give you both the satisfaction you both desired. Suddenly, his strokes would increase in speed and depth; really stretching you out. Jolting that body around as those perky tits bounced from the force. “Fuck!… babyyyy…” “I know, baby. I know..you just look so pretty when I’m digging you out. I can’t help but fuck you this hard.” Cooing to you as he bent down to plant soft kisses along your forehead. You’d cry out, maneuvering your hands to his back, digging your nails into it..you’d never felt pleasure like this with anyone else. The way he made love to you was incomparable. Even when you fought against it, he knew your body’s needs and wanted more than anything to satisfy them.

“That’s right, princess..let me fuck that stress out of you..let that mind go blank. Just focus on taking this dick.” Whispering in your ear as you held him close.

eventually, your legs would coil around his waist and your eyes would trail to the back of your skull in a haze of sheer ecstasy. You didn’t know what to do with yourself..all except fall apart underneath him. Your body was a bundle of tight nerves, bound together by the building ecstasy and you were bound to explode any minute. Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t done teasing quite yet..instead, he had one more move he just had to try in hopes of sending you over the edge.

“Eyes on me, baby..yeah, I need to see that pretty face right now.”

garnering a smile as he leaned back up and maneuvered his arms to fall into the center of your torso. Suddenly, you’d feel a slight pinch of your nipples before he began to rub them slowly. Tracing tiny circles as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. It was very apparent you couldn’t handle it by the way that cunt twitched around his shaft..you were bound to explode at any moment. Mouthing off about how good it feels as he made alternating motions on those sensitive buds; rolling them between his fingertips, squeezing and even leaning down to suckle them for a brief moment. The sensation lasted for a few minutes before he’d return his attention back to ensuring you got your well deserved orgasm. This time, with a bit more aggression because he recalled how excited you’d gotten when he grasped your throat.

“Oh my God…fuck! ‘m gonna come—“

“Then do it..come f’r me, slut..give me what I want.”

the name sending you into an absolute spiral as he never spoke that way on a regular basis and would never think to disrespect you. But this was exactly what you craved. To be used and made devoid of all feelings except pleasure. Suddenly, you’d feel his fingertips squeezing your jaws as he increased his speed yet again..this time, feeding you the deepest, longest strokes he could muster. The two of you would spout off filthy, steamy remarks at one another through gritted teeth, intense glares and breathy moans as you reached down to aid him by stroking your aching bud.

“ ‘m so fucking close, baby. I don’t think I can hold it..”

“Fuck yes you are..that pussy’s gripping me so tight right now..goddamn.”

Eventually, those thrusts became rather sporadic and Eren was rapidly losing both his composure and stamina. The both of you were so near your peaks that it was only a matter of time before you exploded. You’d try to outlast him but as he maintained that clutch on your jaw, he’d lean down to spit into your mouth, letting that trail drip down onto your tongue as you stuck it out. He knew what was coming and he couldn’t be vexed to continue anticipating it so your boyfriend decided to assist with a little extra lubrication.

“Get yourself off..I’m not fucking waiting..” Without hesitation, (y/n) scooped that saliva out your mouth and onto your fingertips to massage that clit once more. You were rubbing so fast, your head began to grow fuzzy and soon, nothing but an image of static and blackness would fill your vision as you released all over him; voiding yourself of all those warm, sweet sticky juices as they sprayed his abdomen. Right above the incisions from some prior operations..he wore it as a badge of honor quite frankly. That a woman who once took care of him, was now having all of her wants and needs fulfilled. His cock sat idly inside of you until that stream became too powerful and all but pushed him out. That’s when he’d simply grasp the base of his throbbing member and tap against your slit.

“Shit! Oh my gosh..”

“Ahhh..fuck. That’s it..I knew if I got in it deep enough, you’d squirt for me again, baby. That’s my girl..”

“Fuuuck, it feels so good!”

You’d continue spraying until you convulsed uncontrollably. He was still in awe of the mess you’d made but there was still the task of releasing his own. Although he loved the sight of you in such a vulnerable state, he couldn’t let up. Grasping your hips once more, he’d tug you down onto it and continue drilling you with his cock. This time, to relieve himself.

“Hold still, I’m not yet…need to..come inside of you..”

clutching the backs of your thighs, Eren relentlessly shoved that thick cock back inside of you, pumping sporadically until he felt his own legs begin to quiver. It wouldn’t be long before his stride broke so he’d bend down to grant you one last kiss and sweet nothing. Cradling the side of your head into his palms in an intimate manner. With baited, sporadic breath and whiny cries, he’d pour his soul out to you. Becoming almost obiedient and subservient himself.

“I love you! fuck…I love you so much...”

“I love you too..”

“Am I making you feel good? Did I do a good job? Can I come inside of you..please, baby. Can I?”

and without hesitation, you’d nod your head profusely and grant him his wish. But not without sending him spiraling with your last statement.

“Yes, please! Come in this pussy, daddy..I need it.” And from that moment on, Eren fell to pieces. Collapsing his entire body weight onto your own as your legs coiled around his waist, ensuring he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted. His final thrust came in a sharp, forceful thud before he’d begin to pulsate and eventually, release every last drop of remaining semen he had to offer. Emptying his balls inside of you shamelessly. Already spent from his earlier orgasm, he’d let out an ear curdling grunt, allowing you to claw into his back because he knew he’d lost all semblance of control and had probably been a bit rough. However, none of that mattered..you both were utterly satisfied and it was apparent by the puddle of tears streaming down each of your faces. Never had either of you experienced lovemaking so powerful that it reduced you to literal tears.

eventually, he’d finish pumping the remnants into you and soon, find the strength to pull out. Once he was able to gather his own bearings, he’d turn his attention to you.

“Are you okay, princess? I'm gonna go grab you some water and a towel real quick—“

even insisting he’d help you to the bathroom afterwards to avoid an infection and get cleaned up properly. However, he was shocked to find that his words were falling completely on deaf ears! That’s when he’d turn around to see you sound asleep..completely knocked from the events that just transpired. All he could do was laugh to himself not only out of pure pride but the fact that you truly needed this reset. Although he admired and looked up to your hard work ethic, even the most brilliant of brains needed rest. Those test materials, patients and everything else would be there when you awoke..but for now, you could focus on yourself!

taglist: idenwhims @blaxcunicorn @valentineluvu @cocoacunt @charminstasia @star0bsessi0n @mrsackermanfeed @aquabby21

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [12] - Pressure

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Having a high pressure job has its consequences.

Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks.

Word Count: 4.9k

Series Masterlist

The news of the breakup spread like wildfire.

To be honest, you hadn’t expected anything different. This had to be one of the rare times that Caleb hated being in PR because even you could tell that he was working way too hard.

And of course, your name had been brought up multiple times, but so far there wasn’t anything actually threatening thanks to Bucky and Hazel having attended the gala together right before they broke up. 

“Mom, how did you know dad was the one?”

Your mother looked up from the bowl she was mixing the cake mixture in, then let out a laugh.

“What brought this on?”

“Just curious.” You dangled your legs from the high stool and sipped your coffee before putting the mug on the kitchen island. “Also, I would like to ask again, why are we in the kitchen? You don’t cook.”

“I’m baking.”

“You don’t bake either.”

“Well, one of the girls in my spiritual retreat said it would be a good bonding practice between mothers and daughters.”

You pulled your brows together.

“I guess today is good as any to start,” you murmured. “Fine, okay. We’re bonding, see? Tell me how you knew, other than the fact that he dazzled you with money.”

“Oh I didn’t care about the money.”

You tilted your head. “Uh, are you sure? I mean no offense obviously, but I always assumed money played a part. Safety and all that.”

“I did feel safe with him but that had nothing to do with the money.”

“So you were actually in love with him.”

“I was and I am.”

You made a face. “Oh come on, that I don’t buy. You can be honest, there’s no way you’re still in love with him.”

“Why not?”

You let out a laugh. “Because he’s evil?”

She rolled her eyes and started pouring the mixture into the cupcake tray. “He’s not evil, honey.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean he has been bribing and extorting politicians for decades so that things work the way he wants them to work. That’s like, textbook bad. Disney movie bad.”

“Funny, I heard a lot of people say Bucky Barnes is a bad man, but you seem very eager to defend him.”

“That has nothing to do with—okay, let’s never ever put Bucky in the same category with dad ever again,” you said with a laugh. “It’s kind of like lumping The Night King and Jon Snow together.”

“I didn’t watch that show.”

“They’re like complete opposites.” You took another sip of your coffee. “Let me put it this way; Bucky would sacrifice his own life to save someone, dad would sacrifice the whole world to save himself.”

“And you, and me.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said. “You yes. Me, doubtful.”

“He does love you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders. “And I don’t mind, really.”

“He does,” your mother insisted. “It’s just that, you’re both very stubborn and don’t know how to communicate.”

“That and our political stances and our principles and our goals are very different.”

“So what?” she asked as if it was just trivial, and you scoffed a laugh.

“You seriously don’t mind what he does?” you asked. “All those people he hurt? All the corruption?”

“I’m not interested in what he does at work. I’m interested in what kind of a man he is with us, his family.”

You grimaced. “That’s not how it works, mom.”

“It’s how it works with me.”

You rubbed at your eyes, heaving a sigh. “I guess this just proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“I’ve always thought that…” you trailed off. “I’ve always thought you and him were just meant to be together, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”

“Never say that!” She gasped. “We love you!”

“That’s not it,” you said with a weak smile. “No, you guys make sense together, in some very weird and unhealthy way. But I don’t, you know what I mean?”

“That’s so not true,” she said, putting pieces of chocolate into the batter in the pan. “And as I’ve said, your father loves you and me. What he does at work doesn’t matter.”

“It actually does,” you said. “You might be able to pick and choose, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Is that why you broke up with Max?”

“That dickhead voted for the opposition.”

She turned to you. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with him over that.”

“See? It doesn’t matter to you,” you said. “But it matters to me. And hey, it’s a good thing I dumped him, apparently he was cheating on me anyway.”

Her jaw dropped and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “Aw I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you said. “I mastered the art of detachment thanks to the revolving door of nannies you guys kept changing when I was little, so it’s okay.”

“Well, we just didn’t know who was the best for you.”

You bit at your lip to hold back your retort.

“How’s everything at work?” she asked. “Are those rumors still going on?”

“Well, to some extent but no picture or anything,” you said. “Just whispers.”

“And you like him?”

“Professionally, yes.”

Bullshit.

It was a good thing that your mother hardly ever spent time with you, she didn’t know how to read you.

The truth was that every day your feelings for Bucky were getting deeper. You knew that Hazel was right, you knew the risks but somehow, when you thought about him kissing you…

Your brain just refused to be logical.

Granted that didn’t mean you were going to throw all the caution to the wind, but you were wondering if something was wrong with you if that didn’t intimidate you as much as it was supposed to.

“A lot of my friends think he’s too handsome to be in politics.” Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “And they have a lot of questions.”

“About him?”

She hummed and walked to the oven to take a look at it. “Which button do I turn?”

You jumped from the stool to turn the button. “This one.”

“Aw thank you,” she said as she put the tray in, then closed it and turned to you. “So what’s he like?”

You took your seat again. “In politics?”

“In his daily life. Why did he and that girl break up?”

You cleared your throat. “Um, difference in opinions.”

“On what?”

“No idea, that’s what I’ve been told.”

She hummed, sitting down as well. “And you guys are close?”

“Professionally.”

“But you consider him a friend as well?” she asked. “I don’t know many people who are friends with their boss.”

“You don’t know many people with a boss.”

“Fair,” she admitted. “But that’s irrelevant. Tell me more about him, we’re all curious. Is he nice?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“To you? Even with all these rumors?”

You couldn’t help but smile, then nodded your head.

“He um…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “He’s amazing, mom. I know a lot of people think there are still traces of the Winter Soldier in him, but it’s not like that at all. He’s the sweetest, I’d trust him with my life. He even—”

You stopped yourself and your mother leaned in, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What?”

“He got Blinky back for me.”

She blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Who’s Blinky?”

Of course.

You hesitated for a second before you forced yourself to smile and shook your head.

“It’s not important,” you mumbled. “Anyways, enough about me, how was your retreat?”

                                                *

The next day, you didn’t even have the time to go to lunch. You had to work on the draft Bucky had asked you to, and of course you had volunteered to go over the revisions Lucas had sent you just so that you could impress Congresswoman Gray, and your phone kept buzzing with emails every two minutes.

And for some reason, everything was louder today.

You took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm down as you clenched and unclenched your hands, staring at the screen before you deleted the last line, and added a new one.

“Please don’t tell me we’re back to skipping lunch for work.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard before you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky watching you, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a protein bar and like two cups of red eye, I’m fine.”

His worried gaze raked over you, making your heartbeat even faster.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done with this.” You nodded at the screen and he came to lean against your desk, making you bite back a smile.

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your glances to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?” Bucky asked and held out his hand for you to give him the phone, but you shook your head.

“I’ll handle him,” you said and answered the phone. “Max, go fu—”

“Wait wait, don’t hang up,” he cut you off. “I swear, this will be very civil and you’re gonna want to listen to what I have to say.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair while Bucky kept his eyes on you.

“What?” you asked crossly and he took a deep breath.

“I saw that piece about you and Barnes.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“A journalist contacted me,” he said in a rush. “He wanted to know whether there was anything going on between you and him while we were still dating.”

Your stomach dropped, your eyes snapping up to Bucky before you gritted your teeth.

“And let me guess,” you said. “You told him you’d think about it and now you’re calling me to ask for something.”

“No actually,” he said. “I told him we broke up because I cheated on you, because you put your career over our relationship, the very same career you wouldn’t risk for anyone much less your boss.”

You pulled back slightly. “…What?”

“I gathered ambitious bitch sounded better than greedy slut. Not that you’re either of those but you know, the guy was an asshole.”

 You let out a surprised laugh.

“You’re telling me you had the perfect opportunity to fuck with me and you didn’t take it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not asking for anything in return?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” he said. “If they called me, it means they’re working on a piece.” 

You frowned, drumming your fingernails on the desk.

“And why would you do this without asking for anything in return?”

He fell quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Tessa said she’d leave me if I didn’t go to therapy,” he said. “And my therapist made me realize it wasn’t cool, what I did. What with keeping Blinky and stuff.”

“By ‘stuff’ you mean cheating on me, or the ultimatum or going behind my back at voting?” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry about all that.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you figured this was at least just a little progress.

Very little, but either way.

“Well, what do you know?” you muttered. “I mean you’re still an asshole, that goes without saying but I appreciate the heads up.”

“My therapist says I have um… he says I am scared of emotional intimacy. That’s why I cheated on you, he says.”

“Yeah Max, because he can’t say you’re an asshole. You’re paying him.”

“I guess.” He snorted a laugh. “How’s DC?”

“Full of people who’d love to step on your back for their own gain. I haven’t slept in two days.”

Bucky shot you a disapproving look but you waved a hand in the air.

“So you’re having the time of your life?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s good—” He started but you heard another voice coming from the other line, probably his assistant. “I uh, sorry, I gotta go. Work thing.”

“I gathered,” you replied. “It’s almost five minutes.”

“…Yeah, that wasn’t cool either,” he said. “Also sorry about that.”

“Listen, how about I send you a list of things you should be sorry for and we can get all of them out the way?”

He let out a chuckle. “That’d make therapy so much easier. Can I call or email you to apologize then?”

“Call me and I’ll see if I’m in the forgiving mood,” you said and hung up, then looked up at Bucky.

“So, great news,” you said. “A journalist asked Max if you and I had an affair while I was with him, but he said no.”

“And he didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“He’s doing therapy, as it turns out,” you said. “My belief in psychology has been renewed because honestly, if they can make Max apologize…”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile and you bounced your leg, biting inside your cheek.

“We need to find who this journalist is.”

“I will.” His voice was completely calm. “And I’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t threaten him.”

“If he didn’t want me to threaten him, he shouldn’t have dragged you into whatever nonsense he’s working on,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “That’s just not how it works.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I thought I was the one protecting you.”

He winked at you. “It’s a two-way street.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he turned his head to look at the approaching footsteps before Caleb appeared at the door and let out a groan.

“I’m like two seconds away from assigning a chaperone to you like we’re in Georgian era,” he said. “Bucky, you might be familiar with that.”

“Wrong century, Caleb.”

“Well, how about we don’t start another fire when I’ve just extinguished the other one?”

You held up your hands and turned your attention to the screen, your cheeks burning and Bucky heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the desk.

“Make her eat something.”

“I will but did you have the chance to think about what I said?”

You looked between them. “What did you say?”

“Caleb thinks we all should have a barbeque at my new place,” Bucky said. “Something something PR.” 

“It would show you’re still relatable and that you’re doing fine after the breakup.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” you mused. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, and I missed Alpine.”

“And the team would love it,” Caleb added and Bucky’s gaze stopped on you as if he was torn between ideas, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” he told Caleb who pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Just let me know when.”

“Will do!”

“And I’m not locking Alpine in the room,” he said as he walked into his office. “She gives me an attitude for days when I do that.”

Caleb approached you to plop down on the chair next to your desk.

“Thanks for convincing him.”

“I barely said anything.”

“Well, I’ve been begging him for a week and one word from you…” he trailed off and you shook your head, then turned to him.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“There’s something you need to know as Bucky’s communications director.”

His grin wiped off his face in a second. “What?”

“There’s a journalist,” you said. “And apparently he’s been asking questions about me and Bucky.”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, cussing under his breath.

“Of course,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It was getting a bit too peaceful today, so why not? Be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the office and pressed your hands on your eyes before you dropped them, straightening your back.

“It’s fine,” you murmured to yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. “It’s totally fine.”

                                      *

As your anxiety would show you; it was not, in fact, fine.

You had spent the whole day working, and now almost everyone had left but Kelsey and Bucky, both of whom were in a meeting with Congressman Murray.

And you. Working overtime.

It was already dark out, and the only thing illuminating the office was your laptop screen. You could feel the migraine slowly making its way to your temples. For the whole day, your chest hadn’t stopped feeling tight, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs especially after Max had told you about the journalist. In addition to all that, the work you had to cover was getting bigger and bigger, you still had one hundred pages to go over, and to make the necessary edits.

In other news, you might have bitten more than you could chew.

You typed away at the keyboard, forcing yourself to hum a melody in hopes of calming yourself down before you got up from your chair to make your way to Bucky’s office. You grabbed the file from his desk and went back to your desk, but before you could sit down, your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up.

From: Dad

We need to talk about the journalist.

And just like that, your line of sight grew narrow, darkness swallowing everything else other than the phone.

To your terror, you could feel the familiar tingling spreading over your face as your throat tightened, the breath you were taking getting stuck there. A fire burned through your chest, twisting your heart harder and harder while it tried to escape from your ribcage. You could feel your whole body beginning to shake, the floor getting wobbly underneath your feet like quicksand as you took a step back, grasping at your throat with one hand.

You’re not dying.

It’s a panic attack, you’re not dying.

Except that you were sinking.

You held onto the desk with one hand and managed to crouch down to sit on the floor as the room started spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. Nausea crashed down on you while you tried to get enough air in your lungs, your other hand balling up into fist tight enough to cramp.

You’re not dying.

You couldn’t even tell if it was tears or cold sweat running down your face; it was probably both. Your hand on your throat slipped down to your chest to press on it in hopes of soothing the pain there while you forced yourself to take another breath.

You’re not dying.

You see a laptop, you see a chair, you see a—

You hadn’t even heard Bucky stepping into the office before he rushed to you, his hands grasping your upper arms, almost frantically checking you for injuries like he wanted to see if you were bleeding.

“Birdie?”

“Not dying,” you managed to gasp out. “Panic attack.”

That made him stop only for a moment, a look of absolute relief crossing his face and he let out a breath.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast right now, can you breathe with me?”

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath at the same time as him, then exhaled. For almost a minute, you followed his lead and once you weren’t breathing as fast, he gave you a small smile.

“There you go,” he said. “Five things you can see?”

That made your eyes snap to his as you took another breath. “How do you—?”

“Five things,” he said and you exhaled.

“Laptop,” you rasped out. “Chair. Papers. Desk. My fox figure on my desk.”

“Four things you can hear.”

You tried to focus, pulling your brows together.

“Your voice,” you said. “Footsteps from the hallway. AC.  Um…”

“One more.”

“The laptop running,” you said, pressing your palm on the floor. “And three things I can feel are…the marble floor, and sweat dripping down the back of my neck, which is fucking disgusting—”

“Birdie, focus.”

“And um, the wind. From the AC.”

“And two things you can—”

“Smell. Your cologne and paper. I just printed a bunch of stuff.” 

“And one thing you can taste?”

“Blood. I bit my tongue too hard.”

His eyes searched your face and you let out another shaky breath, exhaustion creeping up on you as you leaned your head back to the wall. Bucky hesitated for a second before he sat beside you, leaning back against the wall.

“How do you know grounding techniques?” you asked after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Mandatory therapy.”

“Ah,” you said, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. “Interesting.”

“And I’m guessing this is not your first panic attack?” he asked, making you scoff a laugh.

“Nope,” you said. “Been having them since I was like twelve.”

Bucky’s brows pulled into a frown. “Twelve?”

“Yup,” you said. “As it turns out, if you put too much pressure on a kid and yell at them whenever they didn’t meet the expectations, their brain gets messed up. Who would’ve known?”

“I’m going to kill your father.”

“You can’t,” you said. “If he’s dead, who’s gonna go around crossroads to make deals for people’s souls?”

“Birdie.”

“I’m fine,” you said even if your arms felt way too heavy when you raised your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. “This happens, no big deal.”

“How often?”

“Not regular,” you said. “Sometimes. But let me tell you, I would not last a day back in the 1940s. I saw those documentaries, my husband would send me off to an asylum and they’d try to lobotomize—”

“I’m giving you time off.”

“Tough shit, I’m not taking it.”

He gave you a look. “I’ll change the locks to the office.”

“I’ll work in the hallway.”

He ran a hand over his face as if he was straining his mind to come up with a solution and you wiggled your brows despite exhaustion.

“Sorry. I guess you shouldn’t have hired me, huh?”

“If I hadn’t hired you, neither of us would be here,” he said and thought for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t be, at least. You would have probably made someone else win so you’d be here.”

“I wouldn’t have worked for someone else,” you murmured and he licked his lips.

“Please take some time off.”

“Nope.”

“You either take some time off, or I’m hiring someone to help you out with the workload.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky, no.”

“Bucky yes.”

“I don’t trust anyone else with what I do,” you said. “They’re gonna miss something, some detail and then I’ll have to go over what they did anyway.”

“Either vacation, or this,” he said, his voice signaling this was not open to discussion. “You’re not leaving me with many options here.”

“There is an option!” you exclaimed. “The system we have works.”

“It obviously doesn’t if you haven’t slept in two days and the workload is triggering a panic attack.”

“It didn’t though!” you insisted. “It’s a coincidence, not a chain of events.”

“I’m not risking it.”

You huffed out, slipping a little on the floor and crossing your arms while Bucky’s lips twitched into a fond smile.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m contemplating,” you corrected him and gritted your teeth, then rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give the okay though, whoever you hire. I need to make sure they can handle this whole thing.”

“Didn’t think otherwise.”

You let out a noise of displeasure, exhaustion still heavy on your whole body and you leaned your head on his shoulder with a tired sigh. He dipped his head to nuzzle into your hair, making your stomach do a happy flip and you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

“Bucky?”

He hummed into your hair. 

“How did it go with Murray?”

He raised his lips from your hair so that you could hear him; “We’re not talking about work right now.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” you said with a pout. “How are you handling the breakup?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

You lifted your head and sat up straighter to look up at him better.

“Are you?” you insisted. “For real? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. I mean no offense but Hazel is kind of perfect.”

“She is,” Bucky said immediately. “She really is, but I don’t think—uh, I don’t think I was the right person for her.

Your heart sped up again but this time instead of dread, all you could feel was excitement rushing through your veins.

“…Oh,” you managed to say. “Why not?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment, his gaze slipping down to your lips before it snapped up to your eyes again. You couldn’t help but notice his throat bobbed nervously, and he took a deep breath as if he was trying to gather up courage.

Which was insane.

You had seen him throw himself in danger over and over again without so much as a second of hesitation.

“Because,” he started, his voice soft, “Birdie, I—”

“Hello?” Kelsey’s voice carried out from the doorway, snapping both of you out of your daze. “Guys?”

You loved Kelsey but you could swear that the urge to scream at her was way too strong.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment as if he shared the sentiment, then opened them again, his jaw tightening. You sat up straighter and raised your hand from beside the desk.

“Over here, Kels.”

“What the fuck are you two doing on the floor?” Kelsey asked as she made her way to you and you exchanged glances, then turned to her.

“I…we—uh—”

“I think better when I’m sitting on the floor,” Bucky cut you off and Kelsey tilted her head.

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a habit from the 1940s.”

Kelsey looked from him to you while Bucky stood up, then offered his hand for you to take it, a warmth spreading from your hand to your arm. You were still exhausted, but you looked up at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. Bucky squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, and you turned to Kelsey.

“Are we going home?”

“Sure, let’s.”

“Call me when you get home?” Bucky murmured and you nodded your head, giving him a small smile, then grabbed your purse off the desk and followed Kelsey out of the office.

“Please don’t tell me you two were having sex on the office floor.”

You let out a laugh, then shook your head.

“We were talking about his ex,” you said and cracked your neck, making a face. “And oh, before I forget, Caleb says we’ll have a barbeque at Bucky’s place this Saturday.”

“At Bucky’s place?” she asked. “All of us?”

“Mm hm, the whole team and I think Sam and Sarah will come too.”

Kelsey grinned at you.

“Just let me know if you happen to find yourself in his bedroom and need me to distract others,” she joked. “During the house tour, that is.”

You pushed at her arm gently.

“There’s gonna be people there,” you reminded her. “Lots of people. Hypothetically, even if Bucky liked me like that—”

“Did they raise you in a convent?”

“That would still be impossible,” you said as if she didn’t interrupt you. “Which by the way, he doesn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t even think he finds me hot, to be honest with you,” you said. “It’s like Hazel said. He entertains my crush, that’s it.”

Kelsey threw her head back.

“You are so oblivious,” she groaned. “This barbecue—”

“Will be just a barbecue,” you said. “Some PR thing, that’s it. I assure you.”

[eeriesilkworm]

There's a real possibility we get a Will Byers centric love triangle in ST5

We know the Duffers love a good love triangle.

So much so, they've given us one (or several) in every season of Stranger Things thus far—and I don’t think they’ll break that streak in Season 5.

One thing I’ve noticed is that while some love triangles stretch across multiple seasons (like Steve/Nancy/Jonathan), the writers also introduce at least one new triangle each season.

Here’s a quick breakdown:

S1: Steve / Nancy / Jonathan S2: Steve / Nancy / Jonathan + Joyce / Hopper / Bob + Lucas / Dustin / Max S3: Robin / Steve / Tammy + Joyce / Hopper / Alexei + Joyce / Hopper / Mr Clarke S4: Steve / Nancy / Jonathan + Mike / El / Will + Robin / Vickie / Vickie's ex-boyfriend S5: Steve / Nancy / Jonathan (likely resolved) + Mike / El / Will (will come to a head) + ???

Sometimes they’re played straight, but the writers also love to openly mock the love triangle trope, too—especially in Season 3:

For example, Hopper gets irrationally jealous over Joyce talking to Mr Clarke and even Alexei—prompting Joyce’s sarcastic line about how every man she talks to must be her boyfriend. And of course, there's Steve wrongly assuming Robin has a crush on him, then confessing to her, only to find out she actually liked Tammy Thompson.

Basically, there’s no one way the writers use this trope. They clearly enjoy it—but more importantly, they enjoy subverting it.

So, call me delusional but I think it's likely that we could be getting another Will Byers love triangle in Season 5:

He's the main character of the season and his arc will (partially), revolve around his "coming of age" and acceptance of his sexuality, after all.

Will has consistently been portrayed as someone who is considered attractive or desirable in-universe. In every season except Season 3, a girl shows interest in him despite his nerdiness and perceived queerness.

And now, it looks like the Duffer Brothers are visually rebranding him as a romantic lead:

His new hair and costume design feels both heroic and boyish. The flannel—once a staple of his wardrobe and a symbol of his innocence—is slowly being phased out, suggesting a gradual loss of that innocence. However, he’s still buttoned up. That tells me Will is stepping into his manhood (and by extension, his sexuality), but he's still holding something back. He's going to need to be pushed out of his comfort zone; both physically and emotionally.

Even narratively, there are established links which hint at a possible non-Mike love interest:

When we look back at Will’s comment about not falling in love, we often read it as foreshadowing his feelings for Mike—or hinting that he already is in love with him. But I also interpret it as something more: Will doesn’t believe he will ever inspire love (or romantic attraction). He sees himself as undesirable.

Think about the four original members of the Party. Yes, they’re all considered uncool nerds to some degree—yet three of them are affirmed through romantic connection: Lucas has Max. Dustin has Suzie. Mike has El. They each receive validation and the feeling of being wanted.

Will does not.

And yet, the writers have made a consistent effort to show us that Will is considered attractive—despite his belief that he isn’t, and despite the lack of romantic validation he receives. That creates a real disconnect. A kind of cognitive dissonance.

Having Will repeatedly receive attention from girls—only to reject them or appear disinterested—was an effective way to subtly hint at his queerness. But it’s happened so many times now, that there needs to be a payoff.

What is the long-term point of making the canonically gay kid, who already believes he’s undesirable, only receive interest from women?

Er, there isn’t one.

It makes sense, then, to give Will the opportunity to experience mutual same-sex attraction with someone who isn't Mike.

Because Will's arc about accepting his sexuality doesn't just have to culminate in the realization that Mike loves him too (as sweet as that is).

It should culminate with the knowledge that queerness is valid, that he is considered desirable and worthy of romantic interest, and that he isn't alone in experiencing queerness.

Additionally, as mentioned above, Will is already perceived as queer—he’s been bullied for it his entire life, despite never explicitly coming out. Hawkins is a small town where word travels fast. So if there is another young gay guy in town, chances are… they’ve already heard of “Zombie Boy” Will Byers.

He'd certainly be on their radar: he’s good-looking, he’s mysterious, and he’s still closeted, which means he’d likely be discreet.

And let’s not forget where Will was emotionally at the end of Season 4, especially regarding his feelings for Mike:

He’s starting from ground zero in Season 5. He has zero hope that Mike feels the same way, and he’s likely going to be making zero moves.

In fact, most Byler theorists agree—it makes sense that Mike will have to be the initiator in Season 5. Will is just too emotionally shut down to make the first move.

But… wait a minute.

If this season is supposed to be about Will coming into his own as a young gay man—about self-acceptance, confidence, and owning his identity—how does that make sense if Mike is the one initiating everything?!

Well… maybe Mike needs to make the first move when it comes to Byler. But that doesn’t mean Will has to stay passive the whole season.

It’s possible that Will could gain some much-needed confidence—maybe even a bit of romantic “practice”—by taking a more active role with someone else first.

Giving Will a (temporary) new love interest would also level-out the playing field between himself and Mike:

There's a real sense of karmic justice and ironic foreshadowing in Stranger Things.

Will's jealousy of Mike and El's relationship has been hinted at for two seasons now—and he even complained that Mike only called a couple times while El had a "book of letters" from him.

What’s interesting is that even after Mike takes accountability for their argument and they make up, that specific comment—about the phone calls and letters—is never addressed. It lingers.

That’s why I think we could see a similar conversation (or even a full-blown argument) between Mike and Will in Season 5. But this time, Will might be the one receiving phone calls or letters—from someone else.

And let’s not forget: it’s possible that the Byers are temporarily staying with the Wheelers in Season 5. If Will has a secret admirer, and he’s trying to keep it quiet, Mike is going to find out. (Excellent way to manufacture drama).

I also feel compelled to reiterate that the Duffers have shown time and time again: they can handle love triangles in many different ways.

They can play it for comedy. They can make it completely one-sided or delusional—like Mike projecting his own jealousy, much like Hopper did with Joyce in Season 3. A love triangle doesn’t have to be serious or long-lasting. It could span multiple episodes, or just one. It could involve a kiss—or zero physical contact at all.

And it doesn’t have to disrupt a Byler endgame—in fact, quite the opposite:

Seeing Will Byers receive romantic attention from another male character would serve as a reminder to the audience that Will is desirable and that he has options—this increases the stakes for Mike.

The GA will start wondering if this is really Will's endgame, and if he is truly ready to get over Mike. The GA, especially those who never shipped Byler before, may find themselves unexpectedly invested. They might even feel disappointed or sad at the thought of Will "moving on."

It also creates space for the writers to show us jealous Mike. Just as we've seen jealous, longing Will, a temporary love triangle allows us to explore Mike’s feelings through that same lens of romantic insecurity.

This brings the possibility of Byler to the forefront of the GA's subconscious. At the same time, it invites them to root for Mike, and therefore Byler.

[charmedreincarnation]

Lucid Dreaming Challenge (Simple + Low Effort!)

I know it’s been a while, but I’m finally putting together a new lucid dreaming challenge :) This one will be super simple: no long routines, no heavy Law of Assumption work, and minimal time commitment.

Optional: Supplements that can help

(Not required, just an extra boost for those who are interested)

– Galantamine (can be found on Amazon): A supplement that increases acetylcholine levels, often used to enhance memory and awareness. Many lucid dreamers use it to increase dream recall and trigger lucidity.

– Huperzine A: Similar to galantamine, it boosts cognitive alertness and dream vividness.

– Valerian Root: Helps promote deep, restful sleep and can lead to more vivid dreams.

⚠️ Important: Do not take any supplements without doing your own research. Always check for allergies or pre-existing conditions, and if you’re under 18 or on medication, consult a doctor before trying anything new.

Step 1: Set a Reminder to Reality Check

Set an alarm to go off every hour during the day if you can. If that’s not realistic, just try to manually remember to check as often as possible.

Each time the alarm goes off, ask yourself:“Am I dreaming?” Look at your hands, check the time twice, or try to push your fingers through your palm. The goal is to make this a habit that carries over into your dreams.

Step 2: Choose One Focus Method Per Day

I’m leaving this part up to you. Every day, you’re going to pick one of the following four and do it. Don’t overthink it!! just stay consistent. Each one trains your subconscious in a different way, so whichever you choose will work as long as you’re intentional about it.

1. Listen to a lucid dreaming subliminal for 1–2 hours

This works by bypassing your conscious mind and feeding your subconscious direct commands. Most subliminals layer affirmations under music or white noise. your brain still picks them up. Over time, your subconscious starts acting on those affirmations, especially in dream states where the conscious mind is less dominant.

2. Write “I am lucid” 100 times

This is a form of subconscious imprinting. Writing something over and over builds a neural pathway especially when you stay present and focused. It’s old-school repetition, and it works because your brain registers written words as intentional. You’re building identity through muscle memory and thought pattern.

3. Listen to lucid dreaming affirmations out loud for 1–2 hours

Affirmations help rewire your inner dialogue. By listening consistently, especially in relaxed or passive states, your brain starts normalizing the idea that you lucid dream. The more familiar the idea becomes, the more likely your brain is to bring it into your dream world. You’ll start noticing cues and remembering dreams more vividly.

4. EFT tap while saying lucid dreaming affirmations

EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) works by stimulating acupressure points while saying affirmations out loud. It calms your nervous system and removes energetic resistance. If you’ve ever struggled with believing you can lucid dream or you get frustrated when you can’t, EFT helps remove that block while programming in new beliefs.

→ Pick one and stick to it daily. Don’t switch around too much. This part is less about intensity and more about repetition. You’re planting seeds in your subconscious your only job is to water them.

Step 3: audio aid

We’re going to be using two audios as we fall asleep, before we even get into the actual lucid dreaming method. Use them like a warm-up for your subconscious.

Put both in a playlist so they play back to back:

•The first audio is the shorter one; start with that.

•The second audio is 10 hours long, so it should be second. Just let it run while you sleep.

Step 4: The Main Method We’re Using – SSILD

I do have a full lucid dreaming guide, but for this challenge, we’re focusing on SSILD, which stands for Senses Initiated Lucid Dream. It’s one of the easiest and most effective methods out there, especially if you don’t want to rely on supplements or stress about doing too much.

SSILD works by tricking your brain into becoming hyper-aware during sleep. You cycle through your senses: sight, sound, and touch in a specific way that builds subconscious alertness without fully waking you up. When done right, this creates the perfect conditions for lucidity to happen naturally while dreaming.

How to Do SSILD (Quick Summary)

Wake up after 4–6 hours of sleep.

You want to be in a lighter sleep cycle. Set an alarm if needed.

Get up for 5–10 minutes. Just enough to become a little alert, but not fully awake. Don’t turn on bright lights. No scrolling.

Go back to bed and start your cycles:

Sight: Close your eyes and pretend to look at the darkness behind your eyelids. Don’t strain

Sound: Listen to the silence. Focus on any background noise or ringing in your ears.

Touch: Pay attention to how your body feels—your hands, your heartbeat, your bed, the weight of the blanket.

Then Cycle through sight → sound → touch slowly and calmly. One round takes about 20–30 seconds.

Do 3–5 rounds then let yourself drift off.

SSILD builds dream awareness by sharpening your internal senses right before sleep. You’re basically training your brain to “wake up” inside the dream without trying too hard. It’s subtle, easy, and works best when you’re relaxed and consistent.

This is the method we’ll be using throughout the challenge. You don’t have to do it perfectly just stay chill and curious. Your body will start catching on.

That’s it .Don’t overcomplicate it.You can mess up and still get results.

Even if you do it half-assed, it still gets your brain into that hypnagogic, in-between state. You might get false awakenings, random vivid dreams, or just lucid dreams straight up. From there, you can easily:

– Spawn someone (like a dream guide or character) and tell them to take you to your desired reality or the Void

– Make a portal or door in the dream, walk through it while setting your intention

– Affirm with your eyes closed in the dream: “I’m entering the Void,” “I shift easily,” etc

– Become lucid mid-dream and just let go and fall when you fully surrender or become weightless, you might drop right into the Void

– Ask a dream character to help you shift—they often know more than you think

– Recognize yourself in the dream (like seeing your reflection, name, or face) and use that moment to command a shift

Step 5: Succeed and send me your success story, because you deserve to be celebrated.

When it happens (and it will), I want to hear about it. Whether you had a false awakening, a full lucid dream, shifted, entered the Void, or just got closer than ever before (it counts).

You did that.You deserve to be seen for it.Send it to me so I can hype you up properly!!!!!

Now This isn’t supposed to be some intense, life-consuming thing. I know people have hard lives, stressful jobs, school, responsibilities. this challenge is not meant to add pressure. It’s supposed to be gentle. Supportive. Fun.

Everything you do here even the smallest effort is scientifically rewiring your brain. Your subconscious picks up on repetition, intention, and belief whether you’re trying hard or barely doing anything. So just let the world do its magic. Your only job is to show up with curiosity. And honestly, you can use lucid dreaming for anything not just shifting or entering the Void.

This isn’t a LOA-focused challenge but even Neville Goddard who’s like the blueprint for modern manifestation talked about lucid dreaming.

He told a story once about waking up with a literal object from a dream. He had a dream where he was in a desert and picked a branch off a bush. The next morning, he woke up in his bed with that exact same branch in his hand. Like physically. In real life.

He said he didn’t imagine it, it was actually there. And he used that moment as proof that consciousness isn’t limited to the physical world. What happens in dreams, in imagination, in the subconsciousit’s real. It can materialize. That’s how powerful your inner world is.

So yeah, lucid dreaming isn’t just some side hobby. It’s a doorway. A technique. A way to access higher states, shift realities, and literally bring things back with you.

You literally spend one-third of your life asleep. That’s decades of untapped time where your body rests, but your consciousness can still create. You don’t have to wait for your reality to change you can go into your dreams and become the change first. So yeah…go manifest. Shift. Tap into the Void. Do whatever you need to do. The world is already a dream. Life is already weird. You might as well use that to your advantage.

[makingsenseofwhathappened]

Building a Support Network (when work gets messy)

Hello friends. Hello work week.

In the spirit of getting through, I wanted to start this Monday off by sharing a few quick thoughts about how to keep your head when something at work crosses a line (harassment, retaliation, just a gut-level this isn’t okay thing).

In my experience, it's easy to veer into full on self-protection mode. By either shutting down completely or oversharing too fast. That's normal, but trust me, it can backfire. One moment of panic or pressure can lock you into choices you didn’t actually want to make.

You need people who help you stay grounded and make decisions that are right for you, not reactive ones fuelled by fear or rage.

WARNING: I have a feeling this one might be a longer post than usual, but I think (I hope) it’s worth it!

Assess Your Workplace First: Before you confide in anyone or take action, pause. Does this place protect its people or protect itself? Have others been supported, or quietly pushed out? Taking the pulse will help you gauge how careful you need to be, and what kind of support makes sense.

Go slow with coworkers: Even the ones who seem safe and the ones who “get it” If you share too soon, you risk gossip, misinterpretation, or triggering a formal response before you’re ready. You deserve time to process and decide what you want to do.

Pay attention to who isn’t helpful: If someone dismisses it, changes the subject, or says “Are you sure it was that bad?” that may seem neutral, but I'd say it's a red flag. You’re not wrong to notice who makes you feel smaller.

Try trained support: Hotlines and harassment-specific services exist for moments like this, not just worst case scenarios. You don’t need a full story, just a place to think out loud with someone who won’t judge, push, or oversimplify.

Friends & family aren’t always it: Sometimes the people closest to you don’t know how to help. Start with someone who truly listens - who doesn’t immediately problem-solve, give ultimatums, or make it about themselves. Your needs have to come first here.

Look for survivor spaces: Online communities. like subreddits, Discords, private groups, can help you feel less alone. But a lot of advice is U.S.-based. If you’re in Canada, double-check legal guidance locally before taking steps at work.

Build a layered team: A steady friend, a trained listener, a survivor community. Each offers something different, and together they give you options and a feeling of control when things feel chaotic.

Rule of Thumb: Caution is wise and boundaries are healthy. Taking your time doesn’t make you weak. it makes you smart. And if you can find even one person who helps you feel clear, grounded, and believed, that’s a solid start. The rest? You get to choose.

TL;DR = Partly covered in this nice article.

And a really solid Canadian-based Reddit for support with workplace sexual harassment.

Take care & much love 🥰

[sarahroutldge]

caveman.

a/n: I wrote this for the brilliant 'make rafe great again' campaign by @zyafics!! It's a bit of a mess and unedited but I hope someone enjoys it!

summary: you may love rafe cameron, but that doesn't mean you have to love his borderline toxic possessiveness and jealousy.

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, fluff, creepy guy behaving creepily (nothing graphic), violent rage on rafe's part (what else is new), alcohol, weed, smoking, mentions of past messy relationships, I'm lazy so I didn't proofread this... uh I think that's it. lmk if I forgot anything!

Parties at the Boneyard are practically rites of passage for the kids who grow up there; whether you’re a kid from the cut or the heir to a multi-million-dollar fortune on Figure Eight, you’re probably spending those summer Friday nights getting drunk or high—most likely both—at the Boneyard. In high school and college, those nights are treasured, rare moments where the parents and grandparents aren’t eyeing their kids, waiting to see them fail. 

And sure, maybe, on occasion, things get messy. The Pogues and the Kooks are never quite at peace for long, but usually it blows over before anything truly terrible can happen, as the Kooks involved know that once Deputy Shoupe gets notified, so will their parents. And for the Pogues, one run-in with the police is a future discarded—a scholarship taken away, a college acceptance thrown out, a job opportunity lost. 

But it’s hard to care so much about that when you’re a bit tipsy, a bit high, and dancing with your friends under the moonlight. Your boyfriend is just across the beach, drinking with his friends, and you can almost swear that the winks he sends you every once in a while feel like a jolt of electricity. Truly, they’re almost as intoxicating as the weed and the alcohol.

Kiara spins you around, and the two of you twirl across the makeshift dancefloor (which is really just sand), as you enjoy a drama-free night. The wind is just strong enough to provide an extra breeze to what would usually be a much hotter, much more humid Outer Banks night. And the music has mellowed from Top 40 hits to some softer, bedroom pop. You don’t know the words, but you’re having too much fun to care.

Unfortunately, though, nothing in the Outer Banks is ever truly uneventful. The bliss you’ve taken for granted is shattered without warning, when you feel a sweaty, unfamiliar hand grasping at your midsection. Immediately turning around, your hand drops from Kiara’s, and you make eye contact with the tall, unfamiliar man before you (a Touron, if you had to guess). Not wanting to make that much of a fuss, you simply shake your head, hoping he’ll get the message. But he’s either too wasted or simply doesn’t care, and he reaches for your waist again, and this time his grip is strong enough to pull you back into his chest. 

“What the hell, dude?” Kiara bites, before pushing him off of you. “Get off our beach if all you’re planning on doing is acting like a perv,” she adds. You grab her hand, squeezing it in thanks. 

The man raises his hands up as if he’s totally innocent, and you just scoff. Thankfully, though, he seems to finally take a hint, as he turns around. Kiara looks up at you, and opens her mouth as if to speak. But unfortunately, before she can, you hear the familiar but worrying shout of your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, from behind you.

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rafe starts, before shoving the man’s back. 

You can immediately sense where this is going, and frankly, you’re not up for it. “Rafe, it’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Rafe turns around. “It’s not fucking fine. He’s scum.” 

And just as you’re about to grab your boyfriend’s hand and pull him away, the stranger turns around. “Hey man, it was an honest mistake.”

“Yeah? Well, next time, ask a girl before you put your fucking hands on her, especially when that girl is my girlfriend.” 

“Rafe, please, let’s not do this. I just wanna go home,” you chime in, hoping that you’re loud enough for him to hear over his rage. 

“You didn’t want to go home until this prick put his hands on you,” Rafe argues.

And while you were annoyed before, now you’re irritated. “Rafe, let’s go,” you say, colder. 

He stares at you for a minute, and then looks around, noticing that the man who touched you has walked away. He huffs, his fists balled in anger, and then he walks away from you. You watch as Rafe walks across the sand, away from the crowd.

“Do you want to go after him?” Kiara asks, feeling awkward about the obvious tension between you and your boyfriend.

“No. He just needs to blow off some steam.”

Kiara nods. “Are… are you okay?” she asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… That was gross. And I’m mad at that guy, but unfortunately, shit like this happens. And I’m tired of having to deal with Rafe’s temper tantrums every time we go out.” 

“Any other time, I’d get it. Believe me. But this wasn’t just a guy getting too close—he wouldn’t back off. That piece of shit deserved whatever punch Rafe was gonna give him.”

“It’s not about what the guy did. Trust me, I’d be happy to see him get punched. It’s the possessiveness that bothers me. It’s like Rafe thinks I’m helpless without him,” you explain.

“I promise that’s not true,” Kiara assures you, but even she seems a little unsure of the words she’s saying. “Look, I’m not Cameron’s biggest fan—”

“I’m aware,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes.

Kiara chuckles. “But this time, I think that guy deserved what was coming to him. And it’s so obvious that Rafe loves you. Maybe your anger is a bit misplaced.”

You shake your head, trying to get her to understand your point of view. “Shit like this has happened before, Kie. And with guys that were way less upfront than that one. It’s not that I’m mad he defended me; I’m mad that he sees me as some damsel in distress, someone who can’t function without him as a bodyguard. I just wish he’d have a bit more faith in me.”

Your friend considers your words for a minute, ultimately giving you a tight smile. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. You can hang with us at the Chateau while your man figures his shit out.”

She tosses her arm around your shoulder, and your mouth curves into a reluctant smile. As the two of you make your way off the beach, your head turns behind you, looking out for your troublesome but usually well-meaning boyfriend. He’s far away now, but you can still sense the frustration radiating from him in waves. 

A few days pass before you see Rafe again. You’ve texted a bit back and forth, putting some space between the two of you. You know you’ll forgive him eventually, but you need time to consider how to move forward. Rafe’s issues with anger and jealousy span far back into his childhood. And it might not be your job to “fix” them, but you can’t help but want to. 

Rafe is complicated, always has been. From his issues with his father to his struggles with hard drugs and history of getting into fights, there’s a lot of darkness swirling around in that brain of his. For the longest time, he struggled with asking for help, lacking the attention and care of a parent who could teach their child how to deal with the toughest emotions. But you won’t deny that he’s gotten better at it. He’s matured in a way that his younger teenage self would never have imagined, and the responsibilities of adulthood combined with the weekly therapy appointments (that only you and his sisters know about) have helped to mellow him, giving him the tools with which to face his demons. 

And that’s why you won’t give up on him. 

Midsummer’s is just around the corner. Though balls and galas in the name of “charity” are certainly not rare on Figure Eight, Midsummer’s is always one of the grandest and most important (at least in the minds of the Eight’s parents and authority figures). For the teenagers, it’s a time to converse with adults about the future, hopefully landing connections that will help with the process of college applications and even internships later on. For the parents and grandparents, it’s the perfect time to show off the family unit; those who live on the island year-round and the families that stay just for the summer all come together to brag about the past year’s “achievements.” For those in their early twenties like you and Rafe, it’s a time to take advantage of the open bar and see the friends from high school that you haven’t seen in a while.

This year, however, is the first year that Rafe and you are attending as a couple. Your table is a mix of the Cameron family (plus Sarah’s boyfriend John B. who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else), your own family, and a few singles. Normally, this would be an occasion for pressure, but your families have known each other throughout the years, as the Figure Eight scene has always been a tight circle.

After the main courses have been served and the parents have swapped conversations about business for the latest gossip, the band’s music starts to slow. The sun has set and the moon looks stunning over the country club, reminding you of just how lucky you’ve been to grow up in a place so beautiful. And even though you and Rafe are a bit rocky, you almost forget it. The tipsiness from a few too many unclassy shots behind the bar with your friends has set in, and Rafe’s hand on your thigh feels almost too hot for a night like this. He squeezes the bare thigh uncovered by the slit in your dress every once in a while, as the two of you shift in and out of conversations with your family. It’s almost going too well. 

That is, until your father mentions your cousin’s upcoming marriage when he speaks to Ward.

“She’s the first of my nieces to get married. We’re all thrilled, and the wedding is only two months away.” He shifts a bit, seeking your attention. “Y/N, honey,” he says, and you turn your head to face your father, away from the pleasant and lighthearted conversation you’ve been having with Sarah and her boyfriend.

“Yes, Dad?”

“I still need to book the tickets for your trip with your cousin, so please send me the dates tomorrow at the latest. Or else you’re going to have to find your own way to pay for them,” he adds, laughing at himself like it’s the most ludicrous thing in the world. 

“Will do, Dad,” you add, and as soon as the words have left your mouth you go back to the conversation with your friends. 

But before you can speak, you feel the hand that’s been on your thigh move to your hand, squeezing to get your attention.

“What trip was your dad talking about?” Rafe asks, unsure of why this hasn’t been mentioned before.

“Oh, Rafe, I’ve told you about this. I’m going away with my cousin and a few other girls in a few weeks for her bachelorette party.” 

Rafe considers this. He knew you’d mentioned a vacation, but he could’ve sworn it was a family trip up to visit your grandparents. His jaw clenches, though his tone remains the same. “Where is it?”

“Miami. We’re all staying in one large suite at a beach resort that I can’t remember the name of.”

He nods. “Why can’t I come?”

You hesitate. He did hear the word bachelorette, right? “Rafe, it’s a bachelorette party. You’d be the only guy there.”

And yet he doesn’t seem to get it. “Exactly. Babe, you’ll be going to bars in Miami without me or any other guys. And as much as I love you, you’re the clumsiest drunk I know,” he adds, with a smirk. Clearly, he thinks you’ll find his comment funny. Though you normally would, he says it with a condescending tone that makes you drop the hand you’ve been holding.

“I can take care of myself, Rafe.”

“Can you?” he asks, not yet sensing the change in mood.

“Yes!” you respond, more sternly but without raising your voice. “I’ve taken care of myself drunk way longer than you and I have been together. I think I can manage a few days in Miami with my cousin and her friends.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion, not understanding where your anger is coming from.

“I know you can take care of yourself, babe, but you shouldn’t have to. I’m a guy—I know how guys behave. And you’re nice—sometimes too nice—and it makes me worry about you.”

“I am a grown woman, Rafe. I’m not helpless.” 

“I never said you were helpless, and you know it. Why are you fighting with me over this? It’s like you think I’m the bad guy, and not whatever perv is gonna start groping you in a sticky Miami bar.” 

Frankly, you’re stunned, and a thought comes to your head. Is he really worried for me—or does he not trust me? But you don’t feel like voicing your opinion out loud, and you need to cool off. You stand up out of your seat, and shove your chair in. The action draws the eyes of your family, but you ignore your mother asking where you disappeared to. You need fresh air.

Taking the path you and every other Figure Eight kid knows from the time they’re fifteen years old, you follow through the winding hallway of the club that leads out back, to where the waiters and other club employees take their breaks. The immediate gust of wind feels refreshing on your face, and you walk to the edge of the parking lot. 

Your feet take you to the abandoned dock that, for whatever reason, was never taken down when the country club was renovated a few decades ago. It’s hidden behind overgrown trees and weeds, and you breathe in relief at the absence of anyone else there. Though from here you can still faintly hear the sounds of the event behind you, it’s quiet enough to where you can also hear the swamp waters crash against the dock, and the night bugs buzzing around you. 

The edge of the dock is too dirty for you to sit down on—your eagle-eyed mother would immediately notice any stain on your dress and berate you for it—so you simply stand there, thinking about the boyfriend you left at the table. The look on Rafe’s face just makes you let out a harsh chuckle. It occurs to you at that moment that your boyfriend is either an idiot or really entitled. Maybe he’s both. 

You’ve dealt with this shit before, and Rafe knows that. He knows that your most recent boyfriend before him was controlling and overprotective in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. It’s why you broke up in the first place.

Does he not even listen to me?

The small but effective cardigan that covers your shoulders begins to itch, and you reach to take it off, only to stumble upon something in the left pocket. When your hands grasp the item, you immediately sigh in relief, pulling it out. 

The pack of cigarettes is old, of course; you haven’t worn this sweater since high school, but it was the only one that even somewhat went with your dress tonight. And Outer Banks summer nights have always had a bit of a chill to them. Your fingers carefully open the pack, pulling out one of three cigarettes left, before setting the pack down next to your feet. You drag it to your lips, holding it there as your fingers naturally reach for the lighter in the opposite pocket. 

It takes a few flicks before a flame is successfully lit. You draw it to the end of the cigarette, an inhale.

About halfway into your second cigarette, you hear the sounds of footsteps on the creaking dock. 

“You hate when I smoke,” he says, and though the immediately recognizable voice of Rafe Cameron should be comforting, in the aftermath of the argument it’s only agitating.

“I don’t want to do this now,” you say without turning around to face him. He nods, though you don’t see, before walking a few more steps.

He’s about a foot away from you, and you still haven’t turned. “Look, Y/N, I only—”

And his insistence on talking only adds to your irritation. Turning around your heel, you look him right in the eyes, meeting his blank face. “No, Rafe, you don’t get to speak.”

“But I—”

“No,” you say, and he finally seems to understand. 

A beat passes, and he nods, encouraging you. 

“Rafe, I love you. I really love you. But I don’t love you enough to deal with distrust that clearly comes from a place of insecurity rather than genuine concern. I’m not saying that you don’t have any concern for me; I’m saying that whatever your little interrogation was back at the table felt more like an insult than anything else. And you know the shit I went through with Noah. So don’t act as if my rage is misplaced or coming out of nowhere. I’ve done this shit before and I know I deserve better, Rafe.” 

You take an inhale of the cigarette, before exhaling right in his face. He rolls his eyes at the action, but you remain unbothered. “Can I say something now?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

He looks hesitant, but he proceeds anyway. “I’m not great with words—you know this. I’m not good at expressing myself eloquently, and one of the things I like so much about you is that I don’t ever feel like I need to. You know what I’m feeling even when I can’t find the words to describe it, and you don’t push me to.”

He waits a bit, eyes searching your face to ensure that you’re paying attention. When he finds at least a bit of interest in your eyes, he continues. 

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t get why you ran off before.”

“I can tell.”

He ignores the snark in your comment. “But it doesn’t matter whether I get it or not. What matters is that I love you and I trust you. And I did sound a bit like a dick.”

“Just a bit?” you ask, and he tries not to smile at your question. Clearly, he’s headed in the right direction with his speech if you’re willing to even joke with him.

“Fine, I deserve that,” he accepts. “I mess up a lot. Like a lot. I don’t always say the right things and I don’t always express my feelings in the most polite way, but I’m working on it. I promise.”

“Rafe, that’s just the problem. I’m tired of hearing you say that you’re working on it—I want to actually see the change. I can’t do the possessive caveman shit again, I can’t. And I don’t like feeling like your teacher. I’m your girlfriend; as much as I care about you and want to help you with shit like this, it can’t be all our relationship is.”

He nods. “I know, babe. You deserve better than that.” And something in his tone makes you want to lean into his sincerity, trusting that he actually gets how you feel. You drop the butt of the cigarette, and he stomps it out with his foot. “Your mom would go insane if you ruined those heels.”

You smile… just a bit. Testing the waters, he brings a hand up to your face, and your body reacts by leaning in, craving his touch. Even when you’re mad at him, he’s the one you yearn for. But before you can get swept away in the magic, you need to make sure that he gets your point. Your hand reaches up to his and pulls it down. He immediately frowns at the action, and it takes all the willpower you possess to not abandon your speech when his lips pout in that adorable way that they do. 

Instead, you squeeze his hand in assurance, and his pout morphs into something less worrying, more hopeful. 

“Rafe, I don’t mind that you get worried sometimes. I don’t even mind that you get a little jealous. They’re your feelings and you’re entitled to them. But you’re not entitled to talk to me the way that you just did. I love you and I would never, ever do anything to risk that.” You punctuate your declaration by bringing your hands to his face, pulling him down to meet you. He settles into the familiar action, and leans in.

“I’ll work on it, I promise,” he says, only an inch away from your lips. 

You nod, sensing the truth in his words. “Thank you.”

His blue eyes look into yours with a gleam of hope. With the natural habit that comes with almost a year of dating, his lips come to press against yours, as his hands fall to your hips. The moment is picture perfect, and your hands run down his tux-covered chest. It’s gentle at first, almost hesitant—just like when you first started dating. But then it moves into something deeper, as you feel his hands squeeze at your hips and his lips move against yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. What started out as something soft and romantic quickly becomes something much more crazed and heated, with whines and sloppy kisses drowning out the noise of the waters behind you and the country club in the distance.

You make out like teenagers, hidden away from everyone else as if you’re not both grown adults in a serious committed relationship. It’s thrilling and messy, filled with passion and earnestness, as if he’s trying to convince you of his promise with the kiss. And you love it.

But unfortunately, the fog of youth can only last for so long. Your immature but intoxicating makeout session is too-soon interrupted by the sounds of your boyfriend’s closest friends, Kelce and Topper. 

“I told you they’d be making out,” Topper says, and you and Rafe immediately jump apart as if your parents have caught you. But he refuses to drop you entirely, instead pulling you with him as he turns to face his friends. 

His mood quickly shifts from slightly annoyed to severely unimpressed when he sees Topper take a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, passing it to Kelce. “Really?” he asks. You roll your eyes at the juvenile bet. He pulls you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hey, you have no reason to be mad, Cameron. You’re not the one with twenty dollars less in their pocket,” Kelce bites back, and Topper just snickers.

“Not really my problem and also not my fault,” Rafe retorts. You can’t help but giggle at the petty argument, and Rafe’s heart swells knowing that your argument has been resolved. Maybe not completely, but he knows the two of you will move forward. You always do.

As the two boys in front of you begin to bicker more about God-knows-what, Rafe leans down to your ear. “You reek of cigarettes by the way.”

“And since when does that bother you?”

“Oh, I couldn’t care less. But your mother—”

You huff, not letting him finish. “Don’t even go there. Let’s sneak out through the back parking lot.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth. Come on.” He grabs your hand, tugging you forwards. The two of you shove through Topper and Kelce, but Rafe couldn’t care less. You quickly make your way across the parking lot, hand-in-hand. 

“And maybe since I won’t be joining you on the Miami trip, you could give me a little show of all the bikinis I won’t get to see,” he adds with a smirk. 

You gasp in mock agitation, but the mischievous glint in your eyes tells him that you’re back in tune with him. “Only if you’re on your best behavior,” you tease back. 

I'm soooo bad at endings so apologies for that - but otherwise hope y'all enjoyed!! and here's a reminder that requests are very much open :)

also again - shoutout to zyafics for this clever campaign!! I loved participating and I encourage y'all to read the other great fics written for it <3

[taeeflwrr]

oh my god was this a rollercoaster of emotions #bringbackangst #imafeministdespiteallthethoughtsthatthisficmademeentertain #forgivemesinceitwashyuck

death by a thousand cuts | l.hc

“but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?”

💿now playing: death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift

❯ summary: If you get more than one love in a lifetime, why does your heart still beat for the boy who wrecked you completely?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, second chance, cheating trope, smut.

❯ words: 9.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, cheating (booo), exes, toxic relationship, a therapy joke, lots of angst, swearing, heartbreak, a whole lotta hurt, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, arguing, heavy petting, protected sex, nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), i can’t lie this is just 9k words of heartache and sex lol.

an: this fic will not be for everyone!! i do not condone cheating in any way, you’re a loser if you cheat. i just felt like writing something heart achey, and this is my favourite taylor swift song that inspires cheating fics whenever i listen to it.

“Give me that!”

Yeji snatches the phone out of your hand with the kind of urgency only a best friend possesses—the kind forged after too many years of watching you do the stupidest things when it comes to boys. Her eyes flare the moment she spots the familiar username. 

@ haechanahceah

“Oh my god. You’re kidding.” Her thumb hovers accusingly over the screen. “Y/N, it’s been a year. A whole year. Why haven’t you blocked Hyuck yet?”

You don’t answer immediately. Just tilt your head back with an exhausted exhale, reaching for the phone. Not because you want it back, but because it feels incriminating in her hands. Like a wound she’s now inspecting. And you don’t need her inspecting it.

“Because we’re okay,” you say, not entirely convincingly. “Mostly.”

It was just a like. On an Instagram post. Of him—with his friends.

(Some of them girls. Most of them girls. All of them tagged. And you definitely weren’t planning on clicking through their profiles in the middle of your best friend coffee date with your screen brightness criminally low. Definitely not.)

“And because we’re friends,” you add breezily. Then you pluck the phone from her hand and tap back into the app, your thumb moving faster than your brain, already leaving a comment beneath his photo.

Something flippant. Something funny. Something that screams: See? I’m a functioning, emotionally stable adult who can totally be friends with the boy who annihilated my heart while he gallivants around Europe on a boat with girls. 

Except probably subtler. 

Yeji stares at you like she’s witnessing a slow-motion car crash. “Oh, absolutely. And when that guy drove me home from the bar last weekend and told me I had pretty eyes, we were just friends too.”

You roll your eyes, swatting the air with your hand. “That’s different. Hyuck’s my childhood best friend. I can’t just cut him off now that we’re not…” you pause, the words catching in your throat like they always do, “you know?”

“No. I don’t know,” she says, arms crossed and chin lifted in that annoyingly perceptive way of hers. “Because you two are in a loop. An exhausting, toxic, ‘I-don’t-know-where-we-stand-with-each-other’ loop. And staying in touch with him is why you can’t move on.”

“We are not toxic.”

You are. 

But you’d already said it out loud like a reflex, before you even had time to make it sound believable. So, you try to fix it. 

“We’re just…”

You trail off, blinking hard like the answer might fall from the ceiling.

 “Co-dependent?” Lia offers helpfully. 

 You sigh. “Yes. That. Thank you, Lia.”

“It’s weird, is what it is,” Yeji says. 

You lean back in your chair, arms folded across your chest like armour. “Ugh. You wouldn’t get it.”

And they wouldn’t. They never have.

Because nobody gets you and Hyuck. Not Yeji, not Lia, not even the therapists you’ve paid a concerning amount of money to explain it all to you. No amount of therapy or psychoanalysis can remove the him-shaped hole inside of you. The way he exists like a second heartbeat.

How many times does a person truly get to fall in love? Not the practical kind. But the kind that rewires you completely. That makes you wonder how you ever existed before this person, and fear who you might become after. 

If love were fair—the answer would be simple. Once. Only ever once.

Because to love someone—truly love someone—is not just to hand over your heart. It’s to fold it delicately, wrap it in every part of your soul, and place it willingly in that person’s pocket. Trusting that they won’t ever give it back frayed or barely beating. 

And if they do (and he definitely did) well, what remains might resemble a heart, but it never beats the same again. You don’t think it ever will.

So yes. One love. One person. One boy—him.

Yeji calls it nostalgia. Says that since he was your first everything, it feels bigger than it was, and that’s why he’s taking up too much space inside your chest. She says you're scared of forgetting. But that’s not it.

You’d give anything to forget. It’s better than remembering everything. Of living in a world where he’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. Where songs feel like him. Where movies feel like him. Where your own body sometimes feels like him because he’s marked it so damn much.

But if you did move on, if you could—you’d still have to ask yourself: where does all that breathless, foolish, all-consuming love go? 

The common consensus is that love turns to hate when it stays too long without being fed. But you can’t imagine a universe cruel enough to make you hate the very boy who made you believe in soulmates.

So you don’t hate him. Even though you should.

“Fine,” Yeji slumps back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp with that familiar fury she reserves exclusively for you—when you’re being like this. “You’re right. I don’t get it. I don’t get why you’re still in cahoots with the same boy who cheated on you and left you a complete mess.”

Lia gasps. “Yeji!”

But the thing is—Yeji has a point. And you know that. But knowing something and truly understanding it is two different things. 

You don’t understand how he put his hands on someone else. How his mouth touched a body that wasn’t yours. How he delivered that line—“I didn’t mean for it to happen”—with the kind of ease that made you wonder just how many times he’d practised it in the mirror before he had the balls to actually tell you. 

You didn’t understand, yet you knew all the same.

You were wearing his shirt when he told you. Still in his house. Still in the space you thought was yours too. And all you could think was: how many nights did he lie next to you like nothing was wrong? How many times did he touch you with hands that had already betrayed you?

He never told you when, or who. Just a sorry. A soft one. A useless one. And a vague promise that he’d do anything to fix it.

But there are some things sorry can’t fix.

You clear your throat, suddenly too aware of how loud your heartbeat feels in a room full of people who love you enough to hate him.

“Because we’re not in cahoots,” you correct. “We’re friends, Yej. Him and I have always been friends.”

It’s not a lie. Not exactly. 

You have been friends with Hyuck ever since he moved in next door to your family when you were six. And even then—when you climbed trees and shared crayons—you think your heart was already beating for him. So much you don’t know what life is without that pulse anymore. Without a hint of him running beneath your skin.

It’s why you plaster on a smile and say, “In fact, I even invited him to my birthday party next week.”

They look at you, eyes full of pity and sympathy. And that hurts way more than him breaking you ever did. Because now your friends are staring at you like you’re some sad, shattered, pathetic thing he left behind.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lia asks weakly. 

“You’re seriously a lunatic,” Yeji cuts in before you can respond. “You’re just dragging this out for yourself. Death by a thousand cuts and all that.”

“I am not a lunatic,” you say, shrugging her off. “It’s just... he’s still part of my life. It’s not like I’m inviting a stranger.”

“He fucked up your life,” she huffs, the words stinging. “He hurt you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “But I love him anyway, don’t I?”

And you do. Because some loves don’t end—they just rearrange themselves. 

Yeji yanks her chair back so hard the legs screech against the floor.

“He’s gonna hurt you again,” she spits. “How many times are you gonna let him rip you apart before there’s nothing left? Before you’ve sacrificed yourself and everyone else around you and you’ve got nothing left to give?”

You want to say something, but the words get stuck, because she’s right.

Lia reaches out, “Yeji—”

“If he’s there next week, Y/N,” she says, eyes burning over her shoulder looking from you to Lia, “then I won’t be.”

When Hyuck got a DM from the only girl he’s ever loved—two days ago, now—he sobered.

Which, if you asked Mark, was some kind of divine miracle. Because Mark had been watching his best friend drink himself into oblivion for the better part of a year. A slow, intentional kind of fucked up that was clearly a desperate, pathetic attempt to forget you.

But no shot, no spirit, no stranger’s skin pressed to his could ever do the trick. Not really. Because no matter how hard Hyuck tried, the hangover was always the same: he’d wake up, and you still weren’t his girl.

So when he saw your username light up his phone, he paused. 

Because the preview didn’t give anything away. It did that annoying thing that said “2 new messages.” No hint. No breadcrumb. Just a loaded gun of a notification staring up at him.

And, of course he clicked it. He had to. You knew he would. You’d sent two back-to-back messages on purpose—he’s certain of it. Because that’s exactly the kind of person you were. Always two steps ahead. Always orchestrating even your vulnerability. 

You wanted to see when he’d read it. 

And he did.

At 2:36 a.m. Because you’d definitely be asleep by then. And that meant he had enough time to draft the right response—measured, brisk, detached—like the past year hadn’t cracked him open.

He read it in the half-light of Mark’s living room, surrounded by people he didn’t really like and a bottle of something he couldn’t quite remember picking up.

hey. i’m having a thing next friday for my birthday—just a chill party. nothing major. 

you can come, if you want.

Hyuck stares at the two messages.

It’s not because of the party. He couldn’t care less about the cake or the candles. That’s not what has his heart in his throat. It’s the fact that—for the first time in a year—you actually reached out. None of that accidentally bumping into each other nonsense you two pull. No one buys that it’s an accident. 

At least, it’s not an accident on his behalf.

It’s not an accident when he keeps frequenting the same coffee shop you once claimed made the best lattes in the city—always at the same time. It’s not a coincidence when he drives through your favourite places on rainy days, just in case you need a ride and are too proud to just call him. And it’s definitely not a coincidence that makes him take the long way to your house. He does it deliberately. He selfishly takes more of your time than he deserves.

Because saying goodbye wasn’t an option for him. Not until it had to be. He’d take prolonged suffering. Death by a thousand cuts.

And it’s not his fault. Well. It is. All of the ruin, anyway. But in the twelve months since he blew it all up, you’ve still lingered. You always do. You always will. So he just keeps showing up in your life when he knows you need to move on. Because he doesn’t want you to. 

Because everything in his life is still half-yours. And he won’t board up the windows of that love—not even now. Not when some part of you still flickers inside it, and half of his heart is still in your chest.

Hyuck stares at your message again. He types something. Deletes it. Types something else. Deletes that too.

what kind of thing is it?

Too uninterested.

who’s gonna be there?

Too nosy.

sure, if you want me there.

Too honest. 

Everything felt like a trap—too much, too little, not enough to win you back, but equally too honest and would remind you of his actions that hurt you. 

How was he supposed to respond to the girl who once memorised every mole on his face? Who was the muse of every song he’s written? Who still makes his hands shake on the keyboard? Who he cheated on? Who he destroyed completely? 

Eventually he landed on:

might swing by, angel. happy early birthday, btw.

He hit send before he could change his mind.

11:27PM

Thirty-three minutes left of your birthday, but you’re not celebrating.

Instead, you’re sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with one leg dangling, the other tucked beneath you, whilst your dress wrinkles and bunches around your thighs because you stopped caring how ruined you looked an hour ago.  

You don’t care that your lipstick is all but gone or that your mascara is smudged under both eyes. You don’t care because he’s not here. 

You were supposed to be smiling by now. 

But he didn’t walk in. 

He still hasn’t.

And you don’t even know why you’re surprised. He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your baby. He’s not your Hyuck anymore. He doesn’t owe you a goddamn thing—not a happy birthday, or his time. You gave that privilege up the night you stopped being his. Or maybe the night he stopped being yours. You still haven’t decided which one came first.

Still, you hoped he would come. 

It was the only thing keeping you remotely sane—delusional hope that he might still show up. That maybe he’d walk through the door like he hadn’t betrayed you and still want you. You still wanted him. 

You hated that he broke you and still got to keep the pieces. Hated that even now, on your birthday, all you could think about was him. Hated that you still wanted his birthdays, his weekends, his forever. 

You take another drink. Cheaper vodka this time, and let it burn your throat as it goes down. You want the sting. You deserve the sting. Your eyes drift (again) to the front door.

Still nothing.

“You need to stop doing that,” Lia pads barefoot into the kitchen, coming right behind you to smack both her hands on your shoulders. “Stop watching that door like a hawk. Yeji would kill you if she saw you pining after him on your birthday.”

You press your lips together and glance away like you’ve been caught red-handed. Because, well. You have.

“Yeah, well. Yeji isn’t here,” you mutter, taking another sip—longer this time. 

Lia raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

You drain the last of your drink and look her straight in the eye. “Because I invited him.”

Lia looks at you expectantly. You know she hates being caught between you and Yeji, but it’s clear she thinks you were wrong to invite Hyuck tonight, knowing full well how Yeji would react.

And maybe she’s right.

That’s why you sigh.

“Look, he said he might come,” you say finally. “He didn’t promise anything. Yeji was overreacting.”

“He never promises,” Lia says gently. “And yet, you keep prioritising him like he’s still that sweet boy we both used to love, who used to buy your favourite cookies before class, or pick fights with the boys who made fun of you. But he’s not that boy anymore, Y/N. And he’s not yours anymore either.”

You flinch.

She notices. Regrets it. “Sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

But it isn’t, not really. Because this is the first birthday he’s missed since you were kids. Since you were eleven and he showed up with a homemade card. 

It’s not fine because his absence would say something that the cheating weirdly never quite did—that he’s not the boy you fell in love with. Maybe he hasn’t been for a long time.

Lia leans against the counter beside you. “It’s allowed, you know? Being hurt.”

“I don’t get to be,” you reply, glancing at her. “He doesn’t owe me anything anymore. I was the one who didn’t want to forgive him that night. I said I was done. I don’t expect him to grovel forever.”

“No,” she agrees. “But you deserved something. More than a half-assed apology at least.”

That lands in your chest harshly. You press your tongue to your cheek, the way you do when you’re trying not to cry. You’re not drunk enough to cry yet. Give it another hour.

“Come on,” Lia sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into her side, “I’m not letting you stay in here staring at that door and giving him the power to ruin the rest of your birthday.” 

But even as she says it, your eyes flicker to that door again—still no him.

Lia doesn’t let go of your hand as she leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room, where people are scattered across the sofas and floors. They all feel like strangers at your own party because you’ve spent the whole night looking for one person who never came. 

“Y/N,” Lia says, squeezing your hand, “this is Hyunjae.”

You blink. The boy in front of you is pretty. Dark eyes, strong jaw softened by the curve of a perfect smile, black hair pushed back sexily. He’s holding a drink loosely in his hand as his eyes sweep over you. 

“Happy birthday,” he says. “You look—”

Please don’t say beautiful. Please don’t say gorgeous. Please don’t say anything he would’ve said.

“—pretty,” Hyunjae finishes. “Really fucking pretty.”

You smile. Or try to. “Thanks.”

And look, it’s not that Hyunjae isn’t nice—he is. You can already hear Yeji telling you to give him a chance. He’s the kind of boy who’d text back, who’s safe, who’d never leave you staring at a door wondering if he’ll show up on your birthday or not. Hyunjae is the kind of boy who wouldn’t cheat on you. 

But the truth is, you don’t know if you can be the girl who lets someone call her pretty and fawn anymore. Not without wondering if they’ll still mean it once they see someone better, shinier, hotter than you. 

Just like he did. 

You nod along when Hyunjae talks. You laugh where you’re supposed to. Play nice. Be sweet. But everything he says sounds like static. Everything he is feels like a placeholder. 

And then, you hear it. That deep, honey-smooth, familiar voice saying: “Happy birthday, angel.”

It slices through the room. Through you.

Because there’s only one person who ever called you that. One boy. Lee Donghyuck.

You didn’t even hear the front door open. Typical. But there he is, leaning in the doorway, all tan skin and messy hair. His hands are buried in his pockets, his jaw set tight—too tight, like he’s seconds from grinding his teeth into dust. 

But it’s not you he’s looking at. It’s Hyunjae. Sitting far too close. Arm tossed lazily behind you on the couch, thigh pointing into yours, almost grazing like he owns your space. 

And Hyuck notices. You know he notices.

His eyes narrow. Lips parting slightly as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You know that look. You’ve seen it before. That blend of heat and hurt and possessiveness he has no right to anymore.

It hits your chest all at once—shame, hurt, lust—and you fumble. Your hand twitches with the red plastic cup still clutched tight. The drink tilts before you even realise it’s slipping. Cranberry vodka sloshes, causing sticky, cold liquid to spill down the front of your dress, dripping into the neckline. 

“Fuck—” you hiss, jerking upright as the cup lands onto the coffee table. You paw uselessly at the now soaked fabric, trying to blot it with the hem of your sleeve, but it’s only smearing it worse.

Hyunjae starts to reach for a napkin, concerned. But your eyes have already found Hyuck’s again. And the way he’s looking at you now…

Your throat goes dry. “I—I’m gonna go change.”

You don’t wait for a reply. You’re moving before anyone can stop you, heart hammering against your ribs because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

You barely make it up the stairs, breath coming fast, fingers trembling as you reach for the door to your room. You close it. But you don’t get the chance to lock it. Because the door creaks again behind you. And then it clicks shut. You spin around. And there he is.

You don’t say anything at first. 

Just stalk over to your wardrobe like it’s perfectly sane to have your ex-boyfriend—your ex-best friend, the boy you used to see every single day, the only boy you’ve ever slept with, the only person who knows all the tells on your body, the boy you still love—in your bedroom for the first time in over a year.

You wrench the closet door open. A pair of heels fall out and land with a little thud. You don’t flinch. You pretend to rifle through hangers, but you’re not looking for anything specific. All of it is just something to do with your hands, because looking at him right now would be a sick kind of torture.

“What are you doing here!?”

Hyuck doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, you only hear the soft thud of his shoes on your floor, the creak of your floorboard by the dresser. He’s closer than you want him to be.

“You invited me,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You spin around. “I invited you to my birthday party. Which started five hours ago.”

He lifts his phone, the screen glowing in the dark. “As far as I’m aware,” he says, tapping it once, “you’ve still got thirteen minutes left. So again, happy birthday, angel.”

You stiffen. 

There it is. That.

That fucking word. The one that used to make you feel warm and wanted. Now it feels like an insult wrapped in silk.

“Don’t call me that.”

That stops him. Just for a second. Then, slowly, he lowers the phone. Shoves it back into his pocket.

“I thought you liked it when I called you that.”

“I used to like it,” you spit. “Back when it meant something. You know, before you fucked someone else behind my back.”

His jaw tightens. Good, you think. The truth hurts; you hope it hurts. And maybe that makes you cruel. But then again, he was cruel first.

He rubs his jaw, then exhales. “We’re really doing this now?”

You laugh dryly. “Oh, sorry. Would you prefer we pencil it in for next week instead? Talk about it over brunch sometime, yeah?”

You turn back to your wardrobe, suddenly too irritated. Your fingers find the old grey hoodie you always loved. It looks soft. Comfortable. Definitely not party appropriate. But you don’t care because you don’t want to go back out there. Not after this.

You peel your dress off in one motion, leaving you in the black lace set you picked out this morning—because it was your birthday. Not for anyone else. Not for a boy. Certainly not for him.

Him. 

You forget for a moment that he’s still behind you.

It’s like your brain short-circuits in his presence. Like it still confuses this boy for the lifeline he used to be. Like your heart can’t shout loud enough to warn you: this boy broke us, this boy hurt us, this boy is bad for us. All it says is: this boy is Hyuck. This boy is sweet. This boy—we love.

You only remember when you hear him inhale—sharply—and turn around. 

He’s looking at you like that again. Like he did back when he loved you, and you loved him, and he hadn’t ruined everything yet. He looks hungry, and like the only thing that might satisfy him is you. 

That thought makes you clutch the hoodie to your chest. “Turn around!”

He does. Obediently. But then: 

"So, did you wear that for me?"

His voice is so annoyingly smug it makes you roll your eyes as you reply. “No.”

But your cheeks betray you. Hot. Guilty. Flushed. Thank god his back is still to you, because if he turned around now and looked at you, he’d know. Because he knows all your tells. Always has.

And from just a simple flush, he’d know that yes, you wore this set for him. That yes, despite pretending you were over him in his Instagram comments, your traitorous heart had hoped that he might come tonight and rip the set off of you.

And just in case he caught your second tell (the tremor in your voice), you twist the knife a little more.

“I wore this set for Hyunjae, actually.”

A silence. Then the fucker starts laughing.

Not a little laugh. A full-bodied, head thrown back, belly laugh. You hate how much you’ve missed that sound, how it still makes your stomach flip. 

“Five minutes ago, I might’ve believed that, angel,” he says, turning slightly. Just enough for you to catch the outline of his grin. “And it would’ve driven me fucking crazy.”

Your heart stutters when he nods toward your chest.

“But I wasn’t talking about your underwear,” he says, eyes dipping lower. 

You follow his gaze down to the delicate gold chain resting just above the swell of your breasts. The one with the tiny heart pendant. The one with the H engraving. 

“I was talking about that necklace. The one I bought you for your sixteenth birthday,” He cocks his head. Smirking now. “Did you wear it for me?”

Your fingers fly to it instinctively. You hadn’t taken it off. Not even after finding out. You always wore it underneath your clothes, tucked away like a secret, because Yeji would have a field day if she knew you still wore his necklace.

But in the heat of the moment, stripping down to your underwear, your brain hadn’t realised that he’d see it again. 

“I thought I told you to turn around,” you snap, furious with yourself.

He lifts his hands defensively. “I am turned around.”

“I meant your head, not just your body, Hyuck.”

And so he does, again. Obediently.

You pull the hoodie on. It swallows you immediately. The sleeves dangle past your hands, the hem skims your thighs, and it smells like dust and weirdly like…the boy behind you.

“I’m decent,” you mutter.

He turns around, eyes flicking down before he smiles. Not smug, this time. Just soft and… a little sad?

“That’s mine.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at the sleeves. “No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. It’s massive on you. And unless you’ve got a secret stash of men’s hoodies in your closet, that one’s mine.”

You glare. “Oh yeah? And who says I don’t have a collection of men’s hoodies in my closet?”

“I do.”

 So fast. So sure.

You scoff, a single sharp laugh. “God, you think so highly of yourself.”

He crosses his arms—all tensed jaw and too-tight t-shirt—and it’s irritating, how stupidly good he looks whilst being smug.

“Yeah,” he says, deadpan. “I do. Because, despite us being broken up, you still wear my necklace.”  He nods toward your nightstand.  “You still have a photo of us beside your bed.” And then, one step closer. “And you fucking invited me here tonight.”

You lift your chin. “I invited everyone. It was a mass text.”

“Funny,” he says, a fake smile forming, “Mark didn’t get a text.”

“Aww,” you coo, mocking. “You still talk to your friends about me, Hyuck? Christ. Now I’m gonna start thinking highly of myself.”

“You should.”

For some reason, those two simple words hit you like a slap across the face. Because no.

“You don’t get to do that!” you snap at him. “You don’t get to tell me I should think highly of myself when you’re the exact reason I can’t even imagine the top anymore, Hyuck!” You laugh bitterly. “I don’t know my worth because you had me. But you wanted something else.”

And in that moment—maybe it’s your tone, or maybe it’s accountability—a flash of hurt crosses his face, that makes him wince. 

“Y/N, angel…” His voice cracks a little on your name, as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck! It was one mistake. You don’t understand—”

But you don’t want to hear it. You’ve already heard it.

You hold up a hand, stopping him from wasting his breath. “I don’t want to understand anything about the night you decided to fuck another girl, thank you very much, Hyuck.”

“Of course, I get that but—”

“But?”  you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Yes, but, Y/N,” he fires back. “Because I don’t know what you want from me. You say you don’t want to forgive me—and I get it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He’s pacing now. “But you string me along. You comment on my posts, you let me drive you home, you still have my fucking hoodies—”

His eyes flick down to the one you’re wearing now, oversized and drooping around the neckline to show that gold chain. 

“—you wear my initials around your neck, and you asked me to come tonight—you. And now you’re mad that I’m here?”

His voice rises and you swallow—hard. Like maybe if you keep swallowing, you’ll stop the tears from climbing all the way up your throat. Because it’s all too raw. All of it. Him. You.This.

He’s unraveling in front of you. And even though you know—deep in your bones—that he doesn’t have the right to be this angry, a part of you gets it. Because this awful, splintered, aching love you have for him is confusing. It’s contradictory. It fucks with your brain so much that it doesn’t matter that you’re hurting because he’s hurting too. 

And that’s all you can focus on.

It’s like you said:  nobody gets you and Hyuck. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, angel,” he says again, quieter this time. He takes a slow step forward. Close enough to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, like he used to.

His hand lingers.

“I don’t know what you want,” he breathes, “but if you tell me—I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath stutters. Your throat tightens.

And then, so quiet you almost miss it: “Because. I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes. You don’t want to. You don’t even mean to. But those three words wrap around you tight. 

“Don’t,” your voice cracks. “Don’t say that to me, Hyuck. Not after everything.”

When you open your eyes again, they’re full of tears. Angry ones. Bitter ones. Hopeful ones too—because you’re weak, and stupid, and still a little bit in love with a boy who shattered you.

“I mean it,” he says instantly. His hand twitches at his side—you see it. He wants to touch you. Wants to wipe your tears like he used to because he hates them. But he doesn’t know if he has permission anymore. (He does, but he doesn’t know he does.)

“I’ve always meant it.”

“Then why’d you throw it all away?” You spit the words out like poison. “Why did you ruin us for a quick fuck?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes, stepping back. “But I do know I hurt you. And I’ll hate myself for that forever. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

You laugh. But it sounds more like a sob. “You have a funny way of showing love.”

“I know.”

“You know everything,” you say, “except why you did it.”

A beat passes. Two. Three.

“You should go,” you whisper. “The party’s over. You’ve said what you needed to say. And I thought I could do this but I can’t.”

“No.”

Your eyes fly to his. He’s shaking his head, tongue in his cheek again as he sniffs.

“No,” he says again “I’m not leaving us like this.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Liar.”

“Hyuck—”

“You want me to say it again?” he asks, voice rising just slightly. Not angry. Only desperate. “You want me to beg? Fine. I will. I’ll fucking get on my knees if that’s what it takes.”

And then, to your absolute horror, he does. 

“Hyuck, stop—”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry for everything. For all of it. For her. For the lies. For shattering everything good we ever had. But I love you, Y/N. And I’m not sorry for that. I’ll never be sorry for that.”

You’re trying to stay angry. Trying to hold onto the rage but it’s slipping. Because you want him. You love him.

He’s still on his knees. Still looking up at you. Still pleading. You wish he’d just stand up. You wish he didn’t look so much like the boy you fell in love with instead of the man who broke you.

“Please,” he says again.“I know I don’t get to ask. But I’m asking anyway. I’m asking because I love you. I never stopped. I swear to God, I never—”

“Stop it,” you say, too fast.

It feels like your chest caves in. Because the thing about love is: it’s loud. Louder than hurt. Especially right now. You love him so much you could scream. But instead, you drop down to your knees. Right there in front of him. And before you know it, your hands are reaching for him. Stupid, traitorous things.

“Stop,” you whisper. “Please, stop.”

But he doesn’t.

Of course he doesn’t.

Because he’s Hyuck. And Hyuck never knows when to shut up.

“I know I ruined it,” he’s saying. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I wouldn’t forgive me either. I wouldn’t. But I can’t stop loving you. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried so hard. I’ve kissed girls who weren’t you and I’ve gone home wanting to claw off my own skin.”

You suck in a breath.

“You don’t have to forgive me now. Or ever. Just let me prove it. Let me try. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you for fucking ever, I swear—”

You’re kissing him. 

You have no idea why, but it just feels like you have to. Because you physically can’t not. Because the love of your life, him, is bleeding out in front of you and you’re the only one who knows how to stop it.

And when your mouth crahses into his, it tastes like heartbreak and history and every stupid, selfish thing he’s ever done. But you keep kissing him. Because just as much as it hurts—it feels like home. Like you’ve finally been returned to the place you belong. Like his lips have been waiting for yours all this time. 

He’s kissing you back just as fiercely. Like he might die if he doesn’t. And maybe he would. Maybe you would too.

You don’t know who moves first. You think it’s you, but maybe it’s him. You’re both equally desperate—lunging backward until his back knocks against the foot of your bedframe and you’re straddling his hips. 

His hands find your waist, landing heavy and possessive around you. But you don’t mind, because your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan into your mouth—and God, you missed that sound. Missed him like oxygen.

His mouth moves to your neck, lips skimming every slither of skin he can reach, greedily not wanting to miss a single piece of you since he’s trying to make up for all the parts he used to take for granted. And you tilt your head back, giving him that access, because you’ve never been able to deny him anything.

“Tell me you’re still mine,” he breathes against your skin, half-choked.

You should tell him no. Should tell him he doesn’t get to ask things like that—not when he gave himself away so easily. Not now when he’ll never solely be yours like you’re solely his. 

But your heart is so tired and so in love it’s ridiculous, so instead you whisper: “I never stopped being yours.”

And then he’s kissing you again—deeper, this time. Until he pulls away and his forehead presses to yours, and he pants against your lips. “Let me love you,” he begs. “Please. Let me love you right this time.”

He feels solid beneath you. It’s making your brain fuzzy. It’s making you whimper.

“Okay,” you pant, tugging harder at those soft brown strands, as your hips shift and grind down against him, making him groan lowly. 

His hands clamp tighter around your waist, dragging you down harder, closer, like he’s trying to fuse you to him. And suddenly your skin feels too tight. You’re too aware of the clothes between you—what little there is.

Because you didn’t put on pants. Just that hoodie of his over your pathetic pair of black panties—thin, useless fabric—and now your pussy is rubbing right up against the thick outline of him through his jeans, and it’s overwhelming. You can feel absolutely everything you’ve missed.

Heat blooms in your stomach and you roll your hips again. It’s so shameless. So needy. But you don’t care. Not when it’s been this long. Not when it’s his fault it’s been this long—because you never would’ve let it be anyone else.

And he meets you in it. Each grind matched with one of his own, more harsh than the last. Until his hips are moving on impulse, chasing you like a man starved. His head drops to your shoulder, and his breath stutters. 

“Fuck, angel, slow down,” he chokes, “You’re killing me.”

You press your lips to his temple, to his jaw, anywhere you can reach, and whisper, breathless, “You deserve it.”

He groans—louder this time—like he agrees.

His hands slide beneath your hoodie, fingers splayed wide, dragging up the warm skin of your back like he’s relearning it. 

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he breathes into your neck. “You can’t be real.”

But you are. You’re right here. Straddling him. Shaking for him. Letting him touch you like he never stopped having the right to.

He kisses your collarbone. Then lower—your sternum, the tops of your breasts, the edge of lace peeking from beneath his hoodie. His hoodie. That fact alone seems to snap something inside him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and then he’s pushing the fabric up and up and up, until it pools around your ribs and the cold air hits your bare stomach. You shiver. 

“Take it off,” he murmurs. “Please. Want to see you.”

You raise your arms, let him peel it over your head, and suddenly you’re half-naked in his lap—wearing nothing but that black set you wanted him to rip off, then didn’t, then did… and now, he is. Fingers working at the clasp, slipping the straps from your shoulders and tossing the bra aside in your room somewhere.

And then, he takes his time letting his eyes drag over you. Taking a sick pride in seeing his initial rest in the valley of your breast. 

“Jesus,” he whispers. “You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

And something about that word—still—makes your stomach twist.

Your arms fold over your boobs on instinct, shielding yourself from the one person you’ve always felt safest with. Because still means there’s someone else now. Someone he’s looked at. Someone he’s touched. Someone you had to beat—and somehow did.

But you shouldn’t have had to.

He notices the shift immediately—how your arms cross, how your body goes stiff, how the room, warm just a second ago, chills.

“Hey. Hey,” he says, brows furrowing. He cups your face, thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes. “Talk to me, angel. What’s wrong? What happened?”

You’re still straddling him, half-naked, kissed raw and dizzy, and yet you feel like you’re a million miles away. You try to speak, to explain, but the words choke you. How do you tell him something he’s never known? How do you make him understand? You’ve never done this to him before—and just knowing how much it hurts—you don’t think you ever could.

“I just—” your voice cracks. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

He flinches—just enough for you to know it landed. But he doesn’t pull away.

The thing is, he doesn’t say her name. Doesn’t even mention her. Never has. But she’s here. Right here. In this room. Your room. In the silence. In his presence.

He shakes his head like he’s trying to wipe the thought away. “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t think about her. This—” his hands cup your face tighter, gently desperate, “—this is you and me. Always you.”

Your jaw clenches, your eyes sting. “Then why wasn’t it only me?”

He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to your lips before flickering away. He doesn’t answer—of course he doesn’t. He never does. And that’s been half the war between you. He doesn’t want to tell you the why.

Instead, his hands drift from your face to your waist, pulling you in like proximity might somehow make up for his silence. Like touch could smother your insecurities. 

His breath ghosts over your skin as he leans in.“Forget her. Just for now. Right here, right now, it’s only you. Only us.”

You hate that you melt. Hate that the ache in your chest loosens its grip the second his hands coax your arms from where you’d folded them. Hate that even after everything, he still knows how to make you feel safe inside the wreckage he caused.

He’s infuriating.

“Let me show you,” he whispers. “That it’s always only been you for me.”

His hands skim up your sides, thumbs brushing delicately beneath your tits. His eyes never leave yours—not for a second—as he kneads and explores and feels your body in his palm. And then his mouth follows.

Lips warm, slightly chapped, close around your right nipple. Your breath punches out of you. You can’t help it because his tongue flicks once, then again, then again until your spine arches and pushes the bud further into his mouth.

“Hyuck,” you moan, helpless, feeling the curve of his smirk drag against your skin.

His free hand trails up your other side, rolling the neglected peak between calloused fingers so deliciously because he remembers exactly what used to make you fall apart, and now he’s hell-bent on proving he hasn’t forgotten.

“God, you’re fucking unreal,” he murmurs against your skin, then bites gently, just enough to make you gasp. 

His words make you ache. Everywhere. Especially between your legs, where you’re still pressed tight against the thick, unrelenting shape of him through his jeans. And he hasn’t even touched you there yet, but it’s coming—you know it is. 

His mouth keeps going, warm and wet whilst he stays sucking just hard enough to turn your bones to water. And whenever you whimper he groans. 

“Please, Hyuck,” you plead. “Need more.”

He lifts his head, murmuring, “Yeah? You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

You nod, dizzy. 

“Fuck,” he groans and wastes no time lifting you off the floor like it’s nothing, carrying you to your bed. He lays you down gently, spreads you out beneath him like something precious. And then he peels off his t-shirt.

That tan skin—scattered with moles you’ve memorised, counted, traced with your fingers and your mouth—is on full display, just for you.

“I’ll give you everything,” he says, voice low as he drops to his knees, crawling between your legs. “Absolutely everything. As long as you don’t regret this. Don’t regret me.”

Your fingers sink into his hair before you can think. “I won’t,” you whisper. “Couldn’t.”

And then he dips down.

His mouth finds the inside of your thigh, open-mouthed kisses dragging tantalisingly up your skin. He’s not rushing. He never does when he gives head. It’s his favourite thing to savour. You. On his tongue.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs, nipping at your skin, making you gasp. “How many times I’ve had to stop myself from texting. From begging you to take me back.”

“Who said anything about taking you back?” You say, hips shifting, dying for friction, but he pins them with strong hands, keeping you right where he wants you. 

“I did,” he says, a smirk ghosting over his lips. “Am I wrong, Y/N? Because if I am, we can stop right now?”

“No,” you whine on a trembling breath.

He smiles. “I didn’t think so.”

Then, finally, finally—his mouth finds the place you need him most.

He licks a slow stripe up your center, groaning from the taste of you in his mouth. He does it again, and then again, until your legs are trembling and one of your hands fists the sheets, the other tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging at it, just how he likes. Just how you like.

He flicks his tongue, circles it, moans when you cry out for more.

“God, you taste the same,” he says hoarsely. “Still fucking perfect.”

You try to respond, to say something, but then he sucks again, so hard, you almost shoot clean off the bed.

“Hyuck—please,” it’s half a sob, a half moan, one hundered percent completley ruined.

He growls, arms locking around your thighs to keep you still, mouth relentless as he licks and sucks and worships like this is his penance.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mutters between licks, “I missed how fucking responsive you are. Always so good for me.”

You whimper. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna,” he promises. “Not until you fall apart for me. Right here. Right now.”

He hums, the vibration making your stomach flutter, and you swear your heart forgets how to beat.

“Let me make you come,” he says, voice completely ruined now too. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my mouth. Please.”

And you do. You let him. Because you want this. Want him. Still. Always.

Your entire body coils, legs shaking, hands clawing at the sheets as your orgasm crashes through you. It’s shattering, making you cry out, his name falling from your lips repeatedly. 

Hyuck doesn’t stop. Not until your body finally slumps back to the mattress, boneless and trembling. Only then does he lift his head, lips wet and shiny. He crawls up your body, kissing your thigh, your stomach, the underside of your boobs, your jaw. Everywhere. Until he’s hovering over you, and you’re staring up at him, glassy-eyed and overwhelmed.

“You okay?” he whispers, brushing hair gently back from your face.

You nod, breath catching. “Yeah. I just... I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I never really left,” he says. “Even though I know I should have. I’m too damn selfish.”

Your throat tightens. You reach up, tracing his jaw with shaking fingers. “I want you to fuck me, Hyuck.”

He blinks, then his eyes darken. “You’re sure?”

You pull him down until your foreheads press again and then whisper a soft, “Yes.”

Then he kisses you. Slowly. Passionately in a way you know this about to be more than just fucking. It feels like the before. The soft. His hands coming up to your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Everything so tender and full of love. 

And somewhere between the kiss and the forgetting, his pants are off. His boxers too. He’s about to fuck you completely raw—like he used to—and for a moment, your body almost lets him. Because it remembers. The blind trust. 

But this isn’t then. And that’s why you reach out, fingers curling gently around his forearm. Stopping him.

“Condom,” you whisper, cheeks flushing as you glance toward the nightstand.

Because it shouldn’t have to be like this. Back then, you were on the pill. You were his. He was yours. There was no one else. But now? Now you’ve had to share him—with her. Maybe with others too. 

He freezes. And for a second, you swear he looks gutted. But then he nods.

Wordlessly, he reaches into your nightstand, gets one open and rolls it on his cock. He doesn’t protest. He never would. Because it’s not the condom that guts him—it’s what it means. It’s that reminder that everything’s different now. And why. A barrier he put there himself because he was reckless, drunk, stupid and ungrateful. A consequence he crafted with his own hands.

But he doesn’t let that thought linger too long. The past is the past—he hates thinking about it. It’s what wrecked him. What wrecked this. What wrecked you.

Now, all he wants is the present. Not even the future. Just this. Just you. Because you’re here. Beneath him. Asking him to fuck you. You’re his—if only for now. And that’s enough.

He slides back over you. And for a second—just one—you both just… look.

You’re looking at him like maybe this could fix it. He’s looking at you like he knows it won’t. Sex doesn’t fix anything. It’s what broke you two in the first place if you really think about it . But he’s still doing it. And so are you.

He pushes inside of you slowly and your breath stutters, nails digging crescent moons into his biceps.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, voice tight and thick. “You feel like—”

“Home,” you whisper, beating him to it.

Because you do. And he does. And it’s pathetic. And perfect. And completely going to destroy you in the morning.

His forehead drops to yours and he lets out a shaky breath, like the kind that comes right before someone starts to cry. But he doesn’t cry—he moves. Gently. Tenderly. 

You cling to him, every nerve alight, oversensitive in that desperate, raw way that makes you breathless beneath him—letting him kiss you through it, through the pain, through the slow, aching stretch of him inside you. 

And in between those kisses and the thrusts and the way your fingers tangle in his hair again, he whispers:

“Missed you.”

“God, I missed you.”

“I’ll never stop being sorry.”

He fucks you like he’s trying to put you back together with every snap of his hips. And maybe he is.

So you let him.

You let him fuck you until you’re both a mess of moans and apologies and, fractured I love yous. Until you’re panting in time with each other. Until you’re cumming—together.

After, it’s quiet.

Not awkward or bitter or biting, but comfortable. You’re tangled in each other, limbs overlapping, as Hyuck brushes his nose against your temple. Eventually, he slips out of you, careful to not hurt you, but you flinch at the loss. He presses a kiss to your forehead, one to each cheek, and then he’s moving—disposing of the condom, finding his way back to your side. 

“Let’s shower,” he murmurs, thumb storoking your jaw. “Let me take care of you first. And after… we’ll talk, yeah?”

You don’t say anything—because you can’t. Your throat is raw from all the moaning and the whimpering. And also because you’re scared of the talking. Terrified, really. Of the hurting that’ll come with addressing it. 

So instead, you swallow and say softly, “I’ll be a minute. Just... need a sec before I move.”

He pauses, like he’s checking you over again, brows pinching. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Not in the way he means.

“No,” you whisper. “Just… been out of the game for a while.”

He pauses but doesn’t argue. Just leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your cheek. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll start the shower.”

He slips out quietly, to the bathroom attached to your room. You hear the soft creak of the cabinets. He still remembers where everything is. 

And then—of course—his phone buzzes.

You glance over. You don’t mean to look. You really, really don’t. You know you shouldn’t if you wanna rebuild trust and whatever. It’s just…It’s on the floor, fallen from his jeans with the screen lighting up. 

It was taunting you. 

And anyway, he’s the one that broke your trust first. He’s the one that made you so paranoid. He’s the one who made you like this. 

Yeji

if i find out you went to that party tonight, hyuck, and didn’t tell her the truth, i will.

Your stomach drops straight through the mattress.

Another buzz.

Yeji

i’m serious. how long are you gonna keep it from her that it was lia you cheated on her with?

you’re ruining our friendship!

And suddenly you’re not warm anymore.

Suddenly you’re freezing. And hollow. And very, very awake and out of the afterglow sex haze. 

You can’t breathe.

You feel sick. 

Are you sick? Are you dying? Are you about to have a fucking panic attack?

Because it feels like something has clawed its way into your chest and is now eating you alive from the inside out.

Lia?

It all makes sense. It all echoes.

“That sweet boy we both used to love.”

“He’s not yours anymore.”

The door creaks again. Hyuck walks back in, towel slung low on his hips. Completely clueless. 

“You okay?” he asks, soft and smiling. “Shower’s warm.”

You don’t answer because your heart is hammering against your ribs and because you physically, viscerally, cannot breathe.

His smile falters, just a touch.

And then you say it.

One word. One name.

“Lia?”

You’re not even sure if you want to scream at him, or sob, or laugh—because how dare he. How dare he touch you like that, kiss you like that, look at you like that, when he knew—he fucking knew—he’d fucked your best friend and said nothing.

The same best friend who held you while you cried over him for a year. Who told you it wasn’t your fault. Who had her arms wrapped around you less than an hour ago trying to comfort you about him. 

You hold out his phone, pointing to the screen. “You fucked my best friend, Hyuck?”

He freezes. He lifts an arm reaching out towards you or towards his phone, you can’t tell. Probably the phone to see how much you know so he can spin it. Twist it. Try to manipulate this—manipulate you—again.

“Angel—”

“My name is Y/N.”

The words are a blade. His hand drops.

“Y/N,” he breathes, swallowing thickly, “it’s not what it looks like—”

But it is. You both know it. 

“Yeji seems to think it’s exactly what it sounds like.”

And then it hits you. All over again. Yeji knew. Your other best friend. She knew. 

Did everyone know? Everyone you loved? Everyone you trusted? Everyone you thought was safe? 

And suddenly your knees give out. You drop to the floor, spine hitting the edge of the bed on the way down, but you don’t even register the pain. You’re already somewhere else, hands trembling, vision blurry, gasping like there’s no oxygen. 

That fucking necklace around your neck—the one he gave you, the one you swore you'd never take off—isn’t fucking helping. So you rip it off. The chain snapping in your fist and you throw it. It lands at his feet. 

It’s the first time you’ve taken it off since you were sixteen.

“Y/N—”

Hyuck’s voice sounds panicked now. Hurting. He kneels in front of you, eyes wide, reaching for you—

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

You flinch so hard you nearly hit the nightstand. You can’t stand the idea of him touching you now, even though you know there isn’t a part of you he hasn’t touched.

He freezes. Arm stopping in the air. His face furrowed. And you know that face. The face from the night, the one carved from guilt and horror and regret—but it’s too late.

It’s so late.

You’re sobbing now. And it’s ugly—gasping and choking and curling up on the floor. 

“I—I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” he whispers. “I never wanted to hurt you—”

You laugh. Actually laugh.

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” You shake your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, spit and snot and mascara streaking your face.  “Hyuck, you fucked my best friend. And then you came here, tonight, and touched me like…like I was still yours.”

“You are—”

“No. No, I’m not!” You snap. “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely am not—and never will be—yours again.”

“Please, Y/N,” he whispers. “Let me explain. It wasn’t—”

“You’ve had time to explain.” Your voice trembles, but the words are steel. “I gave you so much of myself. So much trust. So much love.” You swallow hard. “But it wasn’t enough, was it? You needed to fuck my best friend. And keep it from me. And somehow rope the other one into it too, so now—”

Your voice cracks.

“So now I can’t trust anyone.”

He opens his mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to lie, maybe to beg. But then he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word. He just looks at you, regret written in every line of his stupid, beautiful face.

He doesn’t deny it. And that’s the last straw. You fold in on yourself. Arms wrapping tight around your knees as you bury your head and whisper: “I need you to leave.”

He doesn’t move.

You look up—eyes glassy, voice so quiet and weak.

“Get out, Hyuck. Now, please”

And this time, he listens. And you’re glad he listens. Because this time it feels different. This was it. The final fracture. Whatever you had with him? It’s dead now. You just wish you hadn’t kept it on life support for so long—wish you hadn’t clung so tightly to something already bleeding. 

That thousandth cut finally bled dry.

[cheftsunoda]

hii my love, could i possibly request a poly with carlos and rebbeca? with reader being an architect/ archeologist studying in edinburgh?

redesigned— cs55 + rebecca

smau + blurbs

you always thought your life would be built in clean lines and quiet mornings. tucked away in edinburgh’s grey stone charm, buried under piles of models and sketches, you were content building your future from the ground up—brick by brick, draft by draft. loving quietly and living softly. until rebecca. model, muse, and your first real love—rebecca donaldson walked into your life like a thunderstorm in a glass house. she swept you into her world of fashion weeks and flights, of candlelit rooftops and cameras that never stopped flashing. and yet, somehow, she always made space for you. for the silence. for the stillness. for love that felt like breath. you both were never looking for more—until a gala in barcelona. until carlos sainz. he shouldn’t have made sense. but he did. he saw you. he saw both of you. and maybe, for the first time, your carefully drawn plans weren’t ruined. they were just… redesigned.

fc : julie knezvic

(a/n): hi angel!! i hope you love and i am sorry that it took so long, im just a little behind rn. love you sm.

—

yourusername

liked by iamrebeccad, yourbff, yoursister & 2,301 others.

yourusername : random dump for you as i am too busy trying to survive my last few weeks of uni 😭

tagged : iamrebbecad

—

view 100 other comments.

yourbff : body is STILL tea tho. (so proud of you love) (you and rebe r so damn cute)

liked by yourusername and iamrebeccad

↳ yourusername : we love and miss you SO MUCH.

liked by yourbff and iamrebeccad

↳ yourbff : becs can you pls convince her to stop studying just for a night and we can all go out and have fun

liked by yourusername and iamrebeccad

↳ iamrebeccad : babes i am working on it i promise. she is stubborn 😭

liked by yourusername and yourbff

↳ yourbff : trust me i KNOWWW

↳ yourusername : right here guys

↳ yourbff : we know. hopefully you see this and decided to let yourself have some fun.

liked by yourusername and iamrebeccad

username0 : how long have her and rebecca been dating??

↳ username1 : around 2 years i believe!

↳ username0 : aw omg. they r so cute

yoursister : can’t believe my baby sis is about to graduate 😭

liked by yourusername and iamrebeccad

↳ yourusername : you say ‘baby’ as if we aren’t a year apart

↳ yoursister : still a baby TO ME

liked by yourusername

iamrebeccad : so proud of you baby! you deserve everything and more. love you 🩷

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : love you even more. would not have survived w out youuuu

—

You’re on your third coffee of the afternoon, hunched over your desk, sleeves rolled up, graphite smudged across your hand like battle scars. The model in front of you is refusing to cooperate, and the sun is setting outside the Edinburgh flat you and Rebecca have half lived in for months. She leans against the doorframe—hair up in a loose bun, wearing one of your old hoodies that somehow still looks like a Vogue editorial.

“Babe,” she says, drawing the word out like honey, “how attached are you to your studies this weekend?”

You don’t even look up. “Deeply. Passionately. Borderline Addicted..”

She crosses the room, arms wrapping around your shoulders from behind, chin resting lightly on your head. “That’s cute. Unfortunately, I’m here to kidnap you.”

“Rebecca—”

“Barcelona,” she cuts in. “Sun. Sea. Minimalist wine bars. Me in a silk dress. You in that black jumpsuit that makes people fall in love with you. Come with me to the gala.”

You glance at her from the corner of your eye. “I have five boards to finish by Monday.”

“And I have one very stubborn girlfriend who hasn’t taken a break in weeks,” she murmurs, nosing against your cheek. “You’re starting to talk in floor plan metaphors in your sleep.”

You huff a laugh, trying to stay strong. “If I don’t finish this model, I’ll fail.”

“You’ll finish it. But not this weekend.” She pauses. “Because I have reinforcements.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Reinforcements?”

She grins like she’s won something. “Your best friend. She’s flying in. I booked her a flight this morning. She’ll be in Barcelona waiting for us with two Aperol spritzes and a disposable camera.”

Your mouth parts slightly. “You didn’t.”

You cave. Of course you cave. Because it’s Rebecca, because it’s Barcelona, because she’s looking at you like you hung the stars—and because part of you wants to be reminded that there’s more to life than models and deadlines.

You lean back against her, eyes closing for a second. “Only if you let me bring my sketchbook.”

She kisses your temple, smiling. “Deal.”

—

Your suitcase is open on the bed. And still, somehow, empty. Rebecca lounges beside it in a silky robe, legs crossed, sipping her oat milk latte like the world isn’t burning in the form of your wardrobe meltdown.

“Okay,” you say, flinging a pair of trousers onto the pile for the third time. “I have absolutely nothing to wear.”

She hums, unconvinced. “You have literally three garment bags of stunning outfits, and yet you are now debating between the same pair of linen pants and that ‘reliable’ black dress that’s one dry clean away from falling apart.”

“I don’t like being perceived,” you grumble, yanking open another drawer. “Especially not in Barcelona. At a gala. With your friends. Who are all supermodels.”

Rebecca slides off the bed and wraps her arms around you from behind, hands warm over your waist. “They’re not my friends. They’re acquaintances I occasionally make eye contact with at runways. You, on the other hand, are the love of my life. Which, I’d like to point out, is more important.”

You lean back into her, your voice softer now. “Still nervous.”

“I know.” She kisses just behind your ear, gently. “But you’ll be breathtaking. You always are.”

She pulls away slightly, rummaging through your closet and pulling out the slinky black jumpsuit with the open back that you wore on your first real trip together. “You’re wearing this.”

You blink. “That’s… from Paris.”

“Exactly.” She hands it to you with a wink. “Let’s remind the world who made me fall head over heels in the middle of a hotel hallway.”

—

The jet is quieter than you expected. Sleek leather seats, dimmed lights, and a tray of strawberries and champagne already waiting. You curl up against Rebecca in one of the oversized seats, your legs draped over hers, the hum of the engines low and steady beneath you.

“Is this a kidnapping or a honeymoon?” you ask, eyes closed as she runs her fingers through your hair.

“A prelude,” she says. “To your well earned escape from architectural hell.”

You laugh, half asleep, letting your hand trace lazy circles over the inside of her wrist. She leans down and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips—slow and unhurried.

“You’re going to love it,” she murmurs against your mouth. “The city, the sea, the food. I’ll take you to that Gaudí museum you’ve been obsessed with since forever. And the gala… You’re going to walk in and ruin everyone’s night in the best way.”

You smile against her lips, dazed and warm. “Only if you’re holding my hand.”

She tangles your fingers together. “Always.”

—

The wheels touch down on the tarmac just after noon, and you blink awake to golden light pouring through the windows of the jet, warm and sleepy against your skin. Rebecca is already smiling at you, one hand stroking your cheek, the other holding her sunglasses by the frame.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she murmurs. “We’re here.”

You stretch with a sleepy groan, her hoodie still drowning you as you sit up. Barcelona smells different already, even from the window — like heat and citrus and the sea in the distance. The flight felt short, maybe because you spent most of it curled up in Rebecca’s arms, half listening to her whisper soft, ridiculous commentary while flipping through design magazines with you. You’re halfway down the steps of the plane when you spot her—your best friend—bouncing on her toes near a sleek black car waiting on the runway, waving both arms in the air like she might take off.

“There she is!” you shout, already sprinting.

She crashes into you with the force of someone who hasn’t seen you in far too long, arms tight around your neck, both of you laughing so hard it echoes off the runway.

“Oh my god,” she says dramatically. “You’re real. You exist outside of voice notes and crying over thesis reviews.”

You mock glare at her. “I was not crying. I was… processing stress. Loudly.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, starchitect.”

Rebecca walks up behind you, smiling fondly at the chaos. “You must be the famous best friend who gets more good morning texts than I do.”

She shrugs. “Guilty. Someone had to emotionally support her through model glue disasters and coffee fueled breakdowns.”

“I can hear you both,” you deadpan.

Rebecca kisses your cheek in response. “Still adorable when you’re defensive.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks warm.

The three of you pile into the car, luggage loaded, air conditioning on blast. Your best friend immediately hands you a disposable camera and a tiny bottle of sunscreen.

“For the photos,” she says, “and so you don’t get roasted again like last summer. I’m not dealing with lobster YN in every candid this time.”

Rebecca leans over and stage-whispers, “Did she tell you about the time she got so sunburnt in Capri that she walked like a 90-year-old for three days?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh, she told me,” your best friend grins.

You groan, burying your face in Rebecca’s shoulder, who just laughs and presses a kiss to your hair. As the car winds through the narrow streets toward your hotel, Barcelona spreads out around you—sun-soaked buildings, palm trees, motorbikes weaving through traffic, balconies draped in ivy. And in that moment, with Rebecca’s hand laced in yours and your best friend humming along to the Spanish pop song playing through the speakers, it feels like everything is exactly where it should be. It doesn’t matter that there’s a gala tomorrow. Or that you’re probably going to trip in heels at some point. Or that Rebecca’s world still feels a little too fast, a little too beautiful. Right now, it’s just the three of you. And it’s perfect.

—

The hotel suite smells…well…sweet, the scent of Rebecca’s perfume curling through the air like a promise. The sun’s nearly down, casting that golden hour glow across the skyline of Barcelona, softening the sharp edges of the city outside your balcony. From inside, the room hums with quiet movement—heels clicking gently on marble, fabric brushing skin, the low murmur of music from the Bluetooth speaker on the vanity. Rebecca stands in front of the full-length mirror, slipping into a floor length silk dress the color of champagne. It clings to her in all the right places, light catching on her collarbones and the soft curve of her back. She catches your eyes in the mirror and smiles softly.

“You’re staring.”

You hum, still barefoot in your robe, curled up in the corner chair with your sketchbook half-forgotten in your lap. “You’re literally unreal.”

She turns slowly, gliding across the room until she’s kneeling in front of you, her hands resting gently on your bare knees. “And you, my love, are not allowed to hide in that robe all night. Come on. Let me help you.”

You let her pull you up, fingers laced. The black jumpsuit hangs neatly on the closet door, the same one she picked out. She helps you step into it, zipping it up with steady hands, smoothing the fabric over your hips.

When you turn to face her, something shifts in her expression.

“God,” she whispers. “You’re gonna ruin me tonight.”

You blush, looking down, but she lifts your chin with one finger, pressing a kiss to your mouth—soft, reverent. “I mean it. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

Later, with heels on and lipstick applied and nerves starting to stir low in your stomach, Rebecca slips her hand into yours as you step into the waiting car.

“I’ve got you,” she says, as if reading your mind. “Always.”

—

The venue is even more dramatic than you’d imagined—an old Spanish estate turned event space, all arches and climbing vines and warm candlelight. The crowd buzzes with the kind of energy you’ve only experienced at fashion week: air-kisses, flowing gowns, and laughter that’s just a little too practiced.You stay close to Rebecca at first, your hand tight around her fingers as she introduces you to people whose names sound familiar from Vogue articles. It’s not your world, not really. But the way she keeps glancing at you—checking you’re okay, brushing your arm with hers when no one’s looking—grounds you. You’re mid-sip of champagne, standing just off to the side of the courtyard, when he walks in. Carlos Sainz.

The buzz ripples almost immediately—subtle, but tangible. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits like it was made just for him, open collar, hair a little windswept like he stepped out of a commercial. There’s something warm and relaxed about him, like he’s completely at ease in the chaos. And yet, the moment his eyes find you—you—his expression shifts. Like you’ve pulled his attention into focus.

He walks toward you, slow and certain, and for a second you assume he’s going to greet Rebecca. Everyone here knows her. You brace for it. But then—his gaze lingers on yours.

“Hola,” he says, smile soft but curious. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You blink, heat prickling at the back of your neck. “Hi.”

Rebecca steps in, hand still loosely curled around yours. “Carlos, this is my girlfriend. The brilliant architect I’ve been talking your ear off about.”

Something flickers behind his eyes. “So this is the famous Edinburgh genius.”

You laugh nervously, cheeks hot. “Hardly genius. Just a tired student who got bribed into coming to a gala.”

Carlos grins. “Best bribe anyone’s ever pulled, then.”

Rebecca’s thumb brushes the back of your hand. The three of you stand there a moment longer—his gaze darting between you both, your body language, the way you lean into each other naturally. He doesn’t look surprised. He looks fascinated.

He tips his head slightly, voice lower now. “May I steal you both for a drink?”

Rebecca glances at you, eyebrows raised. Your heart thuds once, hard. You nod.

“Sure.”

And with that, something shifts—quietly, subtly, like the first breeze before a storm. You don’t know it yet, but tonight is the beginning of something. Something uncharted. Something beautifully complicated.

—

You’re seated between them. Rebecca on your left, her hand resting gently on your thigh beneath the tablecloth, fingers drawing slow, absentminded circles into the silk of your jumpsuit. Carlos on your right, nursing a glass of red wine, elbow resting casually on the back of your chair like he’s known you for years instead of ninety minutes. The gala is in full swing now—waiters weaving through tables with trays of Spanish tapas and champagne, a string quartet playing something low and romantic from the garden stage. Lights glitter overhead like a net of stars. And still, you can barely focus on anything but the energy between the three of you. It’s subtle but electric. Warm, blooming quietly under the surface of every glance and word.

Rebecca leans in, murmuring, “This wine is actually amazing,” as she reaches for her glass, brushing her shoulder against yours. You can feel the heat of her, the scent of her perfume still clinging to the air around you.

Carlos glances over. “You two are making everyone here jealous, you know.”

You blink. “What?”

He grins, nodding toward the rest of the table. “Look around. Half the people here are trying to figure out who you are and how you managed to make Rebecca Donaldson giggle like that.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Rebecca says, though she’s smiling into her glass.

“I’m not,” he replies. “I just think it’s rare. That kind of… ease. Most people in this room are trying so hard to look perfect. You two look like you already have everything you want.”

Your breath catches a little in your throat. Rebecca squeezes your thigh gently. “That’s because we do.”

You look between them—Rebecca glowing under the golden light, Carlos watching you with something softer than charm in his eyes. He doesn’t seem like he’s trying to impress you. He’s just curious. Present. Drawn in.

“So, Carlos,” Rebecca says lightly, turning the spotlight, “tell us—how does a Formula 1 driver end up at a fashion gala on a Thursday night?”

He shrugs, leaning back slightly. “I got invited. My manager said it would be good for me to socialize with people who aren’t constantly talking about tyre degradation.”

You laugh, surprising yourself with how easy it feels around him. “Fair enough.”

“But I wasn’t planning on staying long,” he adds. Then, without missing a beat— “Until I saw you two walk in.”

Rebecca raises a brow, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Is that so?”

He holds your gaze when he answers. “Yes.”

Your heart skips. The silence stretches for a moment—not awkward, just thick with something unsaid. Rebecca reaches for her wine again, then turns toward Carlos with playful curiosity.

“So,” she says, tilting her head, “what exactly is it that fascinates you?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“She grounds you,” he says simply, looking at Rebecca. “You shine differently when she’s near.”

You feel the breath catch in Rebecca’s throat beside you. Her hand tightens on your leg, and when you turn toward her, her eyes are glassy with something unspoken. And then Carlos turns to you.

“And you… you look at her like she’s made of something holy.”

You stare at him, unable to speak. His voice is gentle, without expectation. He’s not hitting on you. Not in the way you’ve seen others try. He’s just seeing you—both of you—with a kind of quiet reverence that makes you feel… known. The moment is broken only by the clinking of silverware as dessert is served—some delicate Catalan cream and fresh berries—but the weight of it lingers. You eat in silence for a while, your thoughts buzzing.

Carlos turns slightly toward you as he dips a spoon into his dish. “So tell me something,” he says, tone light but curious. “Do you always design things with this much precision… or do you ever let yourself create something messy?”

You blink. “Messy?”

He shrugs. “Unplanned. Unbalanced. A little chaotic.”

You smirk. “I’m an architecture student. Chaos is my natural enemy.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But sometimes… chaos brings the best results.”

You glance at Rebecca. She’s already watching you with that look—the one that knows exactly what you’re thinking. That maybe… just maybe… this doesn’t feel like chaos. It feels like the start of something beautifully unexpected.

She leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You okay?”

You nod, eyes flicking between her and Carlos. “Yeah. I’m… just wondering what happens next.”

Rebecca smiles softly, hand resting over yours now on the table. “Whatever it is… I think we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Carlos clinks his glass gently against both of yours. “To figuring it out.”

And in the middle of that glittering courtyard in Barcelona, with Rebecca on one side and Carlos on the other, you realize: You don’t feel like you’re in between them. You feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

—

The morning starts with sunlight spilling through the gauzy hotel curtains, soft and golden. Barcelona wakes up slowly — a city that stretches before it rises, where the air smells faintly of sea salt and fresh bread, and conversations drift up from the streets like music. You wake with Rebecca curled around your back, still half-asleep, her hand resting lightly at your waist. Her breath is warm against your neck. You smile, eyes still closed. A knock sounds at the door.

Rebecca groans dramatically and pulls a pillow over her head. “If that’s room service and they forgot your croissant again, I swear to god—”

You giggle, rolling out of bed, slipping into one of the hotel robes. But when you open the door, it’s not room service. It’s Carlos.

Wearing sunglasses, holding three iced coffees and a brown paper bag full of pastries like it’s the most casual thing in the world. His smile is crooked. “I brought breakfast. And a proposition.”

Rebecca’s voice calls from the bed. “If the proposition doesn’t involve carbs, we’re not interested.”

He chuckles. “Good thing I know my audience.”

You wave him in and close the door behind him. Carlos steps inside, handing you your drink and then holding up a small envelope.

“What’s that?” you ask, sipping your coffee.

He grins. “Tickets. Gaudí House Museum. You mentioned it last night, remember?”

You blink, surprised. “You remembered?”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Of course.”

Rebecca sits up in bed, hair messy and eyes still heavy with sleep, grinning at both of you. “Did you just ask us out on a museum date?”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “If I did, are you saying yes?”

You glance between them, heart blooming.

Rebecca nods. “Let me put on a cute outfit and we’re in.”

The taxi ride is filled with sunlight and soft laughter. You’re sandwiched in the back seat between them, Carlos’s arm thrown over the headrest behind you, Rebecca snapping candids of you both with the disposable camera your best friend gave you yesterday. At some point, Rebecca leans across you to steal a bite of Carlos’s croissant, and instead of pulling away, he just watches the two of you with that warm, unreadable look again — the one that says he’s taking this in like it means more than he’ll say out loud. By the time you arrive at the Gaudí House Museum, the three of you are humming with that easy sort of energy people only find when they’ve stopped pretending.

The museum is quieter than expected, cool and airy despite the heat outside. Everything inside is curved and intentional, dripping with artistry — from the mosaic tiles to the asymmetrical windows to the wrought-iron details that make the house feel alive.You pause in front of a set of floor plans and models, your eyes scanning the intricate designs like they’re secrets waiting to be solved.

Carlos leans in beside you. “So this is your world, huh?”

You nod. “It’s strange. I’ve studied this for years. But being here, in it… it’s different. It feels like touching someone’s dream.”

Rebecca takes your hand gently, her thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You do that too, you know.”

You glance at her. “Do what?”

“Build things that matter,” she says simply. “Even when it’s just in your sketchbook.”

Carlos watches the two of you with that quiet gaze again — soft, and maybe a little reverent. You keep wandering through the house, taking your time. At one point, you all stand in front of a massive stained-glass window that throws patches of color across the marble floor. Carlos snaps a photo of you and Rebecca bathed in the light, and when he shows it to you, your breath catches. Rebecca has her hand at your cheek. You’re smiling at her like nothing else exists.

“You really do light up the room,” Carlos murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You blush, looking away. Eventually, the three of you make your way up to the rooftop terrace. The city stretches out in all directions, hazy and golden beneath the sun. The famous chimneys rise like sculptural flames around you — surreal and magical. Rebecca presses her back against the warm stone, pulling you gently into her side. Carlos leans beside you both, arms crossed loosely, the breeze tugging at his curls.

“I get it now,” he says, voice low.

You glance over. “Get what?”

“How people fall in love with Barcelona.”

You can’t help but smile. “It’s beautiful.”

He looks at you when he answers. “So are you.”

The words hang there for a moment — not a line, not a flirtation. Just truth. You look at Rebecca. She’s already looking at you. And you feel it — that same undercurrent from the night before. Like the three of you are circling something unspoken. Something delicate. But real. Rebecca kisses your temple and leans her head on your shoulder. “This might be the best morning I’ve had in a long time.”

Carlos shifts slightly closer. “Same.”

And in that moment, high above the city in a house built from dreams, you think maybe — just maybe — you’re starting to build something, too.

—

several weeks later

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, iamrebeccad, lando and 1,109,227 others.

carlossainz55 : 📸

—

view 121,007 other comments.

lando : i feel like the other woman’s other woman rn.

liked by carlossainz55

username00: whomst???

↳ username1 : i believe rebecca donaldson and her gf yn ln. check @/yourusername’s recent post.

↳ username00 : oh that is def carlos in her post.

alex_albon : okay carlossss👀

liked by carlossainz55

—

yourusername

liked by iamrebeccad, carlossainz55, lando and 75,764 others.

yourusername : life + baddies first day on the job;)

tagged : iamrebeccad

—

view 597 comments.

username0 : is this the girl from carlos’ post??

↳ username1 : i believe so…that is def him in the dump.

↳ username5 : him and lando in the likes 😭

↳ username7 : we have lost ladies

↳ username11 : she is dating rebecca though…

↳ username7 : they were both on his ig post…maybe throuple?

iamrebeccad : i am so proud of you, angel! you are killing it. i love you so much.

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

↳ yourusername : love you even more. could not have done it without you.

carlossainz55 : Congratulations hermosa! So proud! ❤️

liked by yourusername and iamrebeccad

↳ yourusername : thank uuu carlitos ❤️

liked by carlossainz55

↳ username7 : oh yeah we are cooked.

—

The apartment is quiet, sun filtering in through the linen curtains, the scent of fresh basil and lemon lingering from the pasta Rebecca made the night before. You’re at the kitchen counter, barefoot and glowing — still not entirely used to the fact that you’re done with uni. That you’re officially working as a junior designer at one of the most respected firms in Edinburgh. That the world is beginning, finally, to expand. Rebecca hums to herself in the next room, curled on the sofa with a fashion book open in her lap, glasses perched on her nose. Her hair’s up in a lazy bun, an old t-shirt  hanging off her shoulder. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Until the knock. You both freeze.

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you order something?”

Rebecca shakes her head. “No. Did you?”

You make your way to the door, curious, and open it—and there he is. Carlos. In jeans and a grey hoodie, holding a bouquet of wildflowers and a crooked smile that says he’s very pleased with himself.

“Hola,” he says, dimples deepening. “Surprise.”

You blink, stunned. “What—wait, are you—you’re here?!”

Behind you, Rebecca gasps and immediately darts to the door. “Are you kidding me?!”

Carlos laughs as you both wrap him in a hug, arms tangling. It’s warm and a little chaotic, the three of you practically swaying in the doorway.

“I couldn’t miss your celebration,” he says, pulling back just enough to hand you the flowers. “You graduated. You started your dream job. I figured that deserved something… dramatic.”

“You texted me ten minutes ago from Madrid!” Rebecca accuses, hitting his arm lightly.

“I was on the way to your place,” he grins, clearly unbothered. “Needed to keep the element of surprise.”

You’re still standing there barefoot, flowers in hand, heart pounding like you’ve just won something you didn’t know you were competing for. Carlos steps fully inside, glancing around like he’s been here before in his mind. “You two look like you’ve settled into something domestic and terrifyingly cute.”

Rebecca smirks. “We did. You just made it worse.”

“Good,” he says. “Because I’m here to ruin your cozy night in.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “Oh?”

Carlos tugs two envelopes from the inside pocket of his hoodie. “I made a reservation at that rooftop place with the insane sunset view—Rebecca sent it to me weeks ago in a TikTok, so you’re both exposed. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

Rebecca bites back a grin. “You are unreal.”

“And then, if you say yes, I’m going to romantically kidnap you both.”

You pause, blinking. “Romantically… what?”

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “I want you to come to my next race. I already booked the flights. There’s a suite. It’s hidden. Think sun, espresso, a lot of carbon fiber, and the three of us hiding from the media in style.”

Your jaw drops. Rebecca’s hand finds yours instinctively. “Carlos…”

He smiles, softer now. “Look. I know we’re not putting names on it yet. But I miss you. All the time. And if I can steal you for just a few days—to cheer me on, to kiss you under Italian moonlight, to pretend this thing between us is real for a little while longer… then I want to try. I want to keep trying. With both of you.”

You feel the words settle between your ribs like something sacred. Rebecca squeezes your hand. You look at her. She looks at you. You’re both already smiling.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, heart racing.

Carlos steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear, his voice lower now. “I know. But admit it… you love it.”

You do. God, you do. Rebecca leans up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thirty minutes, Sainz. If we’re late for our own celebration, that’s on you.”

He winks. “I’ll be waiting.”

As he steps into the living room to give you time to get ready, you turn to Rebecca, breathless.

“We’re going to Italy.”

She grins. “With Carlos Sainz.”

You bury your face in her shoulder. “What are we even doing?”

Rebecca laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Something new.”

And you smile, because it doesn’t feel like chaos anymore. It feels like exactly what you want.

—

From the rooftop, the city looks like it’s breathing — windows flickering to life one by one, cars crawling slowly through the narrow streets below. There’s a warm breeze drifting over the tiles, carrying the scent of wine and sun-warmed stone. You’re seated at a candlelit table nestled beneath a string of golden fairy lights, the linen tablecloth fluttering gently in the wind. Everything is dusky pinks and golds and the soft clink of wine glasses. The kind of setting people spend months trying to plan. Carlos didn’t even flinch when he called ahead.

You’re in a silky deep blue dress Rebecca helped you pick out in ten minutes flat, your hair pinned up with tiny gold clips, and Carlos hasn’t stopped looking at you since you sat down. Not in a showy way — it’s quiet. Constant. His eyes find you every time you laugh, every time you turn toward the view. Rebecca sits across from you, a soft backless dress in burnt orange clinging to her like it was made for her, one arm stretched over the back of Carlos’s chair, her other hand holding yours across the table. Her skin is warm and golden in the candlelight.

“This is completely ridiculous,” you murmur after the waiter pours the first round of wine. “Like, offensively beautiful.”

Carlos lifts his glass. “You deserve ridiculous.”

Rebecca clinks her glass lightly against his, then yours. “To our girl. For surviving sleepless nights, evil professors, thesis disasters, and becoming a full time grown-up.”

You laugh and duck your head. “You two are being weirdly nice to me. I’m suspicious.”

Carlos leans closer. “Fine. Let me balance it out. Do you remember when you tried to explain structural cantilevers to me and ended up drawing a sketch that looked like a sad giraffe?”

Rebecca chokes on her wine. “That was a cantilever?! I thought it was a palm tree.”

Your hand flies to your chest in mock offense. “Wow. I am under attack at my own celebration.”

But you’re smiling. The kind of smile that feels like it’s living in your ribs, spreading slow and wide and warm. The kind you don’t even try to hide anymore. Carlos reaches over and brushes something off your shoulder — a petal from the small bouquet resting on the table — and his fingers linger just a second too long.

“You’re glowing,” he says, so quietly you barely hear it.

Rebecca meets your eyes and smiles, soft and knowing. “She always does when she’s happy.”

The food arrives — shared plates and small bites, things you’ve never tasted before but love instantly. You end up feeding each other across the table, laughing through full mouths, brushing hands as you pass forks and spill wine and get far too invested in an argument about what the best dessert on the menu will be. Eventually, after the plates are cleared and the second bottle of wine is opened, the wind dies down. The city hushes just a little. You lean back in your chair, tipsy and warm, the scent of Rebecca’s perfume wrapped around you and the sound of Carlos’s low voice filling the space between stories. He’s talking about racing, about how everything slows down the second he’s in the car. How quiet it is, even with all the noise.

“It’s not adrenaline,” he says, eyes on the skyline. “It’s clarity. Like the world only makes sense when it’s going a hundred miles an hour.”

Rebecca rests her head against your shoulder. “Is that why you’re so calm all the time? Because you’ve already met chaos head-on?”

He glances at her, something soft behind his grin. “I think I’m calm because I know what matters now.”

You don’t ask what he means. You don’t have to.

—

Later, the three of you are the last to leave. The waiter brings out one final glass of vermouth and a tiny plate of dark chocolate, and you all sit there beneath the fairy lights like you’ve slipped into another version of the world — one where nothing needs to be defined, only felt.

Carlos helps Rebecca up, his hand settling low on her back with a kind of gentleness that surprises her. When he turns to you, you hesitate for just a second.

Then you reach for him. Your fingers slip easily into his, and he doesn’t speak — just smiles. You walk back to the car with your heels in your hand, your head resting against Rebecca’s shoulder, Carlos’s arm around your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth over your hip. Three shadows under the moonlight. Three hearts slowly, steadily aligning.

—

You’re nestled into a private jet again — only this time, it’s not a whirlwind trip to a fashion gala. It’s something slower. Sweeter. Yours. Carlos insisted. No press, no handlers, no chaos. Just you, Rebecca, and him, headed for Italy.

“Technically,” Carlos says, settling into the seat across from you as the jet levels out above the clouds, “this is a work trip.”

Rebecca raises an eyebrow from where she’s curled beside you, your legs draped over hers. “Your version of work includes flying two girls across Europe for moral support.”

He grins. “High performance drivers require emotional regulation. You two are my favorite kind of therapy.”

You laugh, tipping your head back as the sunlight pours in through the window. “Well, we are professionals.”

Carlos slides his sunglasses to the top of his head and watches you for a moment — like he’s memorizing you. The way your hair falls against Rebecca’s shoulder, the soft flush in your cheeks, the way your fingers trace idle patterns into the blanket across your lap.

“You look lighter—calmer,” he says, just quiet enough to be real.

You glance at Rebecca. She’s already smiling. “We are.”

The seatbelt light clicks off, and Rebecca shifts to face you more fully. “Okay,” she says, nudging you with her knee. “Tell him your Italian bucket list. She made one.”

Carlos perks up. “You did?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “It’s not a bucket list, it’s just… a few places I want to see. Sketch. You know. Architect things.”

Carlos moves to sit beside you now, across from Rebecca. His knee presses gently against yours.

“Let me guess,” he says, hand held out expectantly. “Villas, vineyards, maybe a Roman ruin or two?”

You place your phone in his palm, unlocked with your Notes app open. He scrolls slowly, eyebrows rising as he reads.

“You want to see the medieval towers in San Gimignano?” he says. “That’s like an hour from the track. We can go.”

Rebecca beams. “I told you he’d say yes.”

He keeps reading, and then—“You want to sketch the pit lane?”

You blush. “I don’t know, it’s a cool structure. It’s like a weird blend of utilitarian design and showmanship.”

Carlos stares at you for a second, and then says, “You’re genuinely the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

Rebecca hums. “Right? She makes buildings sound like poetry.”

The next half-hour melts into comfortable chatter. You talk about the race weekend, about places they’ll take you between sessions, about what you’ll wear to the paddock. Carlos jokes about putting you both in matching Williams polos and parading you around like his secret weapons. Eventually, Carlos disappears into the back cabin to take a call with his engineer, and Rebecca uses the opportunity to pull you closer, kissing your cheek, then your jaw.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” she whispers, brushing her thumb over your bottom lip. “You, me, him. Italy. This whole… thing.”

You tilt your head, voice just as soft. “Does it feel right to you?”

Rebecca looks at you for a long moment. “It feels like it was always meant to happen. We just had to get brave enough to let it.”

Before you can say anything, Carlos reappears, flopping into the seat beside you with a groan. “Well. Apparently my rear wing isn’t cooperating. But I’m not thinking about that yet.”

You smirk. “We can distract you.”

Rebecca grins. “Gladly.”

Carlos rests his arm on the back of the seat, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. “I think this might be the best race weekend of my life.”

—

f1gossipgirls

liked by lando and 2,188,001 others.

f1gossipgirls : So… let’s unpack the situation, shall we? First, Rebecca Donaldson and her longtime girlfriend YN LN make their debut on Carlos Sainz’s Instagram a few weeks back — soft lighting, soft smiles, soft launch vibes. Fast forward—the trio is now very much in Italy. Very much in the paddock. Very much together. Rebecca and Carlos? Spotted on a bike ride together. YN and Carlos? Photographed at lunch with his race engineer. Then YN and Rebecca are seen strolling hand in hand through the paddock like nothing’s changed.…Except on Quali day, YN shows up with Carlos. Walking in. Side by side. And standing next to him during a live interview, casually repping a Williams polo. We’re not saying it’s a throuple… but we’re also not not saying it’s a throuple. 👀

—

The morning begins with sunlight spilling across the balcony of your villa, the kind that turns everything soft and golden. Carlos is still asleep, tangled in the sheets, his arm slung over your waist. Rebecca is already up, barefoot in one of Carlos’s hoodies, sipping espresso and sketching something into your notebook that you’ll find later — a cartoon drawing of the three of you, hearts drawn over your heads.

“Get up, sleepyhead,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We’re taking you somewhere.”

You blink awake. “Where?”

She just smiles. “Italy is full of secrets. Get dressed.”

They won’t tell you anything, but an hour later you’re in the back seat of Carlos’s rental car, winding through the Tuscan hills — green and sun-drenched, dotted with vineyards and wildflowers. Rebecca holds your hand loosely across the center console, and Carlos hums along to an old Italian song on the radio, sunglasses pushed up in his hair. Finally, the car slows near the edge of a medieval town, quiet and ancient. You step out, confused — until you look up. San Gimignano. Your breath catches.

The towers — the ones from your list — rise above the stone walls like jagged fingers reaching toward the sky. Brutalist, elegant, stubborn in their geometry. You’d written about them in a thesis once. But this… this is different.

You stare in awe. “Guys…you didn’t have to.”

Carlos smiles, locking the car. “Of course I did.”

Rebecca laces her fingers with yours. “We thought you deserved to see the real thing. You’ve been talking about it for years.”

You laugh, teary-eyed despite yourself. They walk you through the town slowly, letting you stop to sketch little pieces — an archway here, a crumbling façade there. Carlos carries your bag without you asking, Rebecca keeps tucking hair behind your ear and stealing kisses when you’re not paying attention. At one point, the three of you sit on a low stone wall overlooking the hills, passing a sandwich between you, legs tangled. You lean into Carlos’s side, Rebecca tucked under your arm.

“Do you ever get tired of being adored?” Carlos asks, only half-teasing.

You glance at him. “Do you?”

He pretends to think. “Nope.”

Rebecca hums. “I think she deserves to be adored. Every version of her. The architect. The sleepy one. The one who can’t remember where she put her pencil but can recite Roman history like it’s a love poem.”

Carlos leans in, brushing your shoulder with his. “Agreed.”

You don’t say anything for a while. You just breathe. You let it settle. This is what love feels like — not loud or rushed or fragile. But steady. Expansive. Soft around the edges. Later, Rebecca takes your camera and snaps a photo of you standing between one of the towers — Carlos behind you, arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder. You’re smiling, cheeks flushed, sun in your hair. And when you look at it later, you’ll think — this looks like a beginning.

—

Race weekend has a way of feeling overwhelming. But somehow, with Carlos, it feels calm. He meets you and Rebecca outside the paddock entrance, dressed in his full Williams kit, sunglasses perched on his nose, hair still slightly messy. You’re in one of his oversized team polos — partially on a dare, partially because it just smells like him — and Rebecca’s in all white linen and a pair of black sunglasses that make her look like she’s walking into the Cannes red carpet instead of an F1 paddock.

“Ready to be shown off?” Carlos teases, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and tugging you into a gentle side hug. He kisses the top of your head and then leans over to press another to Rebecca’s cheek.

“Bold of you to assume you’re the one showing us off,” she replies, linking her fingers with yours on the other side.

He grins. “Fair.”

The first few minutes are a blur of cameras and whispers, heads turning as the three of you walk past in tandem. You feel it — the way people are watching, curious. Wondering. But Carlos doesn’t let go of you, not even when one of the Sky Sports guys gives him a very obvious once over. He walks you through the garage first, introducing you to a few engineers, showing you the car like it’s a favorite pet. He explains the updates they’ve made for the weekend, and you’re so genuinely interested — asking questions, tilting your head at the suspension setup — that one of the techs looks thoroughly impressed.

Rebecca leans over and whispers, “He’s going to marry you if you start talking about aero.”

You laugh and Carlos hears and just smiles.

“Alright,” he says after a moment. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

He leads you around to the Mclaren hospitality suite where, to no one’s surprise, Lando Norris is sitting on a bean bag, eating something from a takeaway box like it’s not Quali day. 

“Ah, finally!” Lando jumps up as soon as he sees you. “The girls! The internet is losing its mind over you lot.”

Rebecca raises an eyebrow. “And what does the internet say, exactly?”

“That Carlos has taste,” Lando grins, holding out a hand to shake yours and then immediately pulling you into a hug. “I’m Lando. You’re YN. You’re Rebecca. You both terrify me, and I love it.”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Ignore him.”

“Never,” Lando chirps. “Do you know how long I’ve been begging him to bring you both here? It’s like… morale, Carlos. Atmosphere. He’s been smiling like an idiot for weeks.”

You glance at Carlos. He’s pretending not to blush. Failing spectacularly.

“And you’re YN, right?” another voice calls — and then Alex Albon appears, holding a coffee and looking far too cool for someone awake this early.

You nod, shaking his hand. “Hi. Huge fan of your girlfriend.”

Alex laughs. “Aren’t we all.”

He turns to Carlos, eyes twinkling. “So this is the famous architect slash girlfriend. And the supermodel slash dangerous mafia wife energy girlfriend. Stunning work, mate.”

Rebecca gives him a dangerous little smirk. “You get it.”

The five of you chat for a while — it’s easy, natural. Alex and Rebecca get into an unnecessarily passionate debate about oat milk. Lando and Carlos talk strategy, but every few seconds, Carlos glances at you, just to check you’re still smiling.

—

Later in the afternoon, when the paddock thins out a little and the media starts to shift into race prep mode, Carlos leads you both to the back of the hospitality lounge and pulls you into a quiet corner. He sits down first, tugging you gently into his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder. Rebecca curls beside you on the padded bench, fingers brushing over your knee.

“I’ve never felt this calm before a race,” Carlos murmurs.

You lean your head against his. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s the best thing,” he says. “I’m usually somewhere between tense and mildly homicidal on Saturdays.”

Rebecca hums. “And now?”

“Now I feel like I’ve already won something.”

You’re quiet for a moment, fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve. The paddock noise feels far away now. Just the breeze through the flaps of the tent, the low hum of passing mechanics, the occasional click of a camera.

Carlos sighs into your neck. “Can I say something dumb?”

“Always,” you and Rebecca say in unison.

He smiles. “If I could take you both with me in the car, I would.”

You tilt your head, half-laughing. “We’d make terrible co-pilots.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But everything makes more sense when you’re near me.”

Rebecca looks at him then — really looks at him — and something shifts behind her expression. Something tender. “You know… this started as something casual. Something fun.”

Carlos nods.

“But it doesn’t feel casual anymore.”

You don’t say anything. You just reach for both their hands — one on either side of you — and squeeze. No labels. No pressure. 

—

The sun is beginning to dip when Carlos crosses the finish line. P8. Not a disaster. Not what he wanted either. Not after how good race day looked. Not after how hard he pushed in quali. He doesn’t say anything on the radio after the cooldown lap — just a clipped, “Copy,” and then silence. His hands stay tight on the wheel until he’s back in the garage. The air inside is thick. No one meets his eyes. There’s too much noise and not enough at the same time — fans cheering in the distance, tires hissing, a metallic clang echoing from the back of the pit. Carlos doesn’t take off his helmet right away. He just sits for a moment. Letting it settle. Then, through the haze, he hears your voice.

“Hey.”

And just like that, the weight cracks. He looks up — and there you are, standing in front of him in the soft blue Williams polo you’d worn all day, eyes full of quiet warmth. Rebecca is beside you, sunglasses pushed into her hair, lips pressed together like she knows exactly what he’s feeling. You don’t ask about the race. You don’t say, what happened? or are you okay? You just hold your hand out. Carlos lets you help him out of the car. His gloves are still on, but your fingers fit between his anyway. Rebecca’s hand finds the back of his neck, grounding.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “We’re here.”

He nods once, blinking hard behind his visor before finally tugging it off. His hair is damp, cheeks flushed, eyes a little unfocused — like he’s still halfway between the car and the world.

Rebecca tugs him gently toward the back of the garage, away from the lights. “Come on,” she says. “Breathe.”

You sit him down on a flight case, crouching in front of him. “You don’t have to be on right now,” you whisper. “You can just… be. With us.”

Carlos closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

“It wasn’t a good race,” he admits. His voice is hoarse. Honest.

Rebecca kneels beside you. “That’s not why we’re here.”

You nod, smiling gently. “You are not your result.”

Carlos laughs, just barely. “You two are dangerously good at this.”

“At what?”

He glances between you, soft and overwhelmed. “Loving me anyway.”

And then he leans forward, presses his forehead against yours, and exhales. Rebecca wraps her arm around both of you, pulling you into a quiet little triangle of comfort — there, on the edge of the paddock, while the world buzzes just beyond the garage doors.

“I’d come to every race,” you say into his shoulder.

Rebecca kisses the corner of his mouth. “Even if you finished last.”

Carlos lifts his head, smiling now — small, real. “You know what? That might be my new strategy. Finish badly. Win anyway.”

And as the sky turns gold outside and the paddock begins to clear, Carlos sits between the two people who make it all feel okay — win or lose, podium or pit lane — and knows, with complete certainty—This is everything.

—

carlossainz55

liked by iamrebeccad, yourusername, alex_albon and 5,001,001 others.

carlossainz55 : may not have won the race but i am always winning off the track. i love you both so much.

tagged : iamrebbecad and yourusername

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

[batsandbirdbrains]

All your posts about Dick being younger than everyone thought at first is making me think of a scenario farther in the future, with all the batkids playing never have I ever or something, and Dick's real age comes out. And none of them really bat an eye at it first, because at this point Dick is a legitimate adult. But later it dawns on them just how young he was when he first started and DID BUCE EVEN KNOW???

Okay but the batkids getting together when they’re like all in their 20s. Dick is supposedly 28, Jason is 26, Tim is 23, and Damian is like 18ish.

And what’s the question god I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think of a good one.

Okay it’s lame but I’m gonna go with Tim saying “Never have I ever smoked a cigarette before I was a teenager” because they all knew Jason had an unfortunate experience with a cigarette when he was 12 and they always make fun of him for it.

But then Dick takes a drink and they all hound him to find out how he had a cigarette before he was 13 when he lived with Bruce, the world’s biggest helicopter parent.

“Roy got a pack when he was like 18 and all the Titans tried one. They were pretty good, actually, but I coughed like hell for like five straight minutes,” Dick tells them. Then he snorts and laughs and adds, “Wally threw up.”

“Wait, how old were you?”

Dick starts counting on his fingers, then shrugs.

“Like, ten? Maybe eleven?”

“Isn’t Roy only five years older than you?”

And Dick realizes he fucked up, and he tries to start back pedaling and laugh it off and say he misremembered, but they all hound him for it.

“Wait, Roy is 33 right now,” Jason argues. “How fucking old are you, Dickhead? Because your math isn’t making any sense!”

“Just leave it alone, Jason!”

“No, no,” Tim pipes in. “If you were ten when an eighteen year old Roy gave you a cigarette, that means you’re 25 right now.”

“Shut up, Tim! No one asked you to do math!”

“Oh my fucking God, Dick-for-brains, are you younger than me?” Jason gapes at him, then gags. “I am NOT the oldest here! No! I refuse!”

“Then fucking leave it alone then!”

“Does Father know?”

They all whip their heads towards Damian, who’s swirling around the bottle of beer they let him have. He raises an eyebrow at all of them.

“No,” Dick eventually says, his voice strangled. “And no one is going to tell him.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Dick narrows his eyes at Damian, who’s smirking at him.

“You’ve been hanging out with Jason too much.”

“That’s no way to speak about your elders, Dickie!” Jason says with glee. When Dick glares at him in return, Jason holds his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Just kidding, just kidding.”

“This information does not leave this room,” Dick warns all of them. “I know where you all sleep. Don’t test me.”

“Damn, dude,” Tim whispers. “Fine, fine. What do you want, a blood pact?”

“Are you offering?” Dick asks, pulling a wing ding out of his pocket.

“Do you just carry those around?” Jason asks, laughing.

“Obviously. Now everyone hold out your palms.”

“Spit pact, spit pact!” Tim begs. “Don’t make me mix blood with the demon brat!”

“You’re just jealous my blood is superior to yours!”

Jason is the first to spit into his palm, then he holds his hand out.

“Just put your fucking hands in, gremlins,” he orders. Then he shudders and turns to Dick. “No, I do not want to be the oldest. You can keep the role. This secret dies with us.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dick says haughtily, spitting into his own palm and holding his hand out too.

Tim and Damian both groan and whine, but they join the spit pact with the other two. No one ever tells Dick’s secret.

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ rafe stalking pogue!reader’s instagram and getting off to her pictures.

warnings — 18+ MDNI. instagram stalking, enemies (rafe x pogue!reader). male masturbation, slight degradation. rafe lowkey being a perv.

cherie’s note — i’m writing this half-asleep + my phone being on 4%, but i absolutely needed to get this out for you guys. c: no idea if this makes any sense i’ve been consuming cleaning chemicals all day LOL.

he tells himself he’s just checking up. that it’s strategic — practical, necessary — to keep tabs on the people who hang out on the wrong side of the island. that’s all you are — just another loud-mouthed pogue girl from the cut who didn’t know her place.

he spat the words like venom, made it clear he couldn’t stand you. said it to anyone who mentioned your name — he hated you.

but rafe’s lying to himself. and he knows it.

because every time your posts slide across his screen, it starts the same way. just a peek. just a scroll. and then suddenly, he’s got his cock in his hand and that skimpy bikini picture posted on your instagram pulled up like it’s fucking porn.

it’s pathetic. he knows that, too.

he groans, thumb dragging slow over the screen while the other hand pumps his cock with rough, desperate strokes. he’s already leaking at the sight — already imagining you moaning his name, begging him to fill the same pretty little hole you use to run your mouth with.

at least then that smug pogue mouth of yours would finally be good for something.

“fuckin’ pogue bitch,” he mutters, stomach tight, eyes glued to the screen. “bet you’d let me ruin you in two seconds.”

his mind spirals.

you, on your knees in that pathetic excuse of a swimsuit, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, while he fists your hair and shoves his cock down your throat. you, messy and whining, pretending you don’t want it just as bad.

“you’d let me,” he pants, thumb flicking to another picture — smaller bikini, lower angle, tighter smile. “you fuckin’ would. talk all that shit, then let me bend you over and make you cry.”

he sees it clear — you in that tight bikini, ass up in the sand, voice shaking while you beg him not to cum inside. him groaning about how tight your little pogue cunt is, about how it doesn’t matter what you say — he’s gonna take what he wants.

“i’d ruin you,” he growls. “turn you into a cock-hungry little mess. cry to your friends about how much you hate me — then sneak off just to let me fuck you again.”

he cums with a broken grunt — hot, fast, messy. fucks into his fist like he wishes it was you. thick streaks spill over his stomach, his knuckles, his fucking phone.

your face is still smiling up at him. happy. untouched.

he stares at it for a second, jaw clenched, chest still rising and falling. then he grabs the phone and hurls it across the bed, jaw tight.

“fuckin’ hate her,” he mutters, like saying it out loud might finally make it true.

[xylatox]

reasons to (hate) love you || lhs

Saw this come up in my feed and I just knew I had to read it. I love that the genre is academic rivals to loves with class dynamics in the mix; which fits the entire theme of them being law students as that is often present in that environment as well! Anyways unto my thoughts :) 

What I immediately love about the beginning is the way Hee talks about the system and the fact that is flawed and then pivots to the hypocrisy of it all and just tying it to the mc’s behaviour—it just shows how much he actually thinks about her because despite him not really caring about her presence, hes very attentive of her and plays it off with just her drawing attention.

I think too because the class dynamic is obvious its easier for Hee to lean in a bit more to thinking she is hypocritic because not only is it easy considering shes from an upper middle class but also because of the way she seems to carry about her self (i assume with confidence and a “i dont care” kind of attitude) would in fact make sense to irritate Hee and make him dislike her to the extent that he does.

He couldn't put it into words, but you triggered specific emotions in his brain — and the main one was agitation.

I love that he’s just agitated at her existence honestly. Also love that immediately from MC’s perspective, you can tell what her family dynamic is like just from her college options alone. Not only does it highlight an issue in a lot of cultures where this kind of behaviour is present (even if the family isnt necessarily well off) but given her family history it also shows the root of why some parents give their children limited choices in their career paths; their own battles with poverty and its their way of protecting their child from going through the same hardships even if it involves dismissing your clear talents or interests.

The way your hand handed your phone while you looked away irritated Heeseung deeply “Do you always have to be this petty?”

“What?” You asked confused as he finished putting his number into your phone “Can’t you interact for 5 minutes without being petty? Is it that hard?”

Im laughing it this because im just as confused like, where is she petty? She’s disinterested sure, but if she was truly petty i think she wouldnt have even talked to him in the first place.

“And isn’t your topic simple?” he approached you and looked into your eyes “You just want to do what’s convenient for you, as always.”

Honestly, I’d love to know whats exactly so convenient about this for her, i genuinely do not see it. Maybe its because I agree with her sentiments in just doing a more complicated/non-basic topic for the sake of it, so perhaps I am a bit biased but I dont get Hee’s point of view pertaining to it (love him still tho).

Loving the way Jay and Jake tease Hee about his interactions with MC from the way he seems more worried about her during exam season to the fact that she’s attractive and he admits it before brushing it off with ease that shes annoying is king of cute. I love that its just her social status is what irritates him the most which makes sense why all the arguments he starts with her feel baseless (at least imo)

I think its cute that mc is super accommodating to Hee seeing his clear exhaustion but hes so snappy about it.

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung opened his eyes slightly and looked at you in a way that you swore you almost saw some kind of affection “Don’t go, please.”

I just think from here and their conversation after is so cute because despite the clear animosity between them mc still cares for him and his wellbeing and gets him orange juice and everything :((( and the way he genuinely smiles at her?? Im so fucking soft man

I love mc making Hee’s nickname Lee Heestupid thats oddly cute. But whats even cuter is the way he messaged her to say thanks again and she asks if hes better :( 

“We can talk about criminal accountability and the evolution of post-war human rights within international law.”

This is such a cool topic i cant lie. As a resident law hater, (for no other reason than it has too many words and uses the most complicated words in the english lexicon—native language btw) I am actually so intrigued by the entire law aspect of this fic because its so in depth and I appreciate that despite my distaste for it.

But he never really stopped to look at you. Heeseung’s judgment was always clouded by his anger at what you represented.

Love this because despite seeing her (and admitting to her beauty) this emphasizes that he hasnt looked at her beyond the privileged girl he sees and ugh, something about this line just gets to me.

I love that he notices her clear discomfort in the guy approaching and goes as far as to get him to back off, which is not only respectful but super sweet because despite not liking her, he respects and understands shes a woman and idk, its just a cute scene to me. Super glad for their little bonding moment after, theyre actually so cute when they arent biting each other’s head off.

Girl friendships in fics will always make me happy so Im always appreciative to see Gaeul and the moments she has with the mc, shes such a sweet and darling side character honestly.

You were smiling as you watched something interesting a boy was showing you on his phone. He recognized the boy as Jungwon, the president of one of the clubs you were a part of. 

The way my brain immediately went Aww. Jungwon has the ability to raise the motherly instincts in me and just ahh, this little interaction makes me happy. Also Hee being jealous is so hilarious to me even if he doesnt openly say it; hehe Jay picking up on it makes me giggle

I love that as certain things happen between them we see how their thoughts on each other transform—Hee becoming jealous and mc realizing how attractive his voice sounds. I love this.

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you directly about the subject.” 

A line like this would drive me crazy honestly.

“Because I’m already in bed and I’m shirtless.” You froze, feeling your cheeks heat up at what he said and blamed yourself for imagining him shirtless calling you in the middle of the night.

AHHH?? That feels so flirtatious to me, screaming

At this point they feel more like friends because Hee coming to help her finish her Civil Law presentation is cute honestly, what the fuck

In any case, you had already come to the conclusion that despite your differences, you had finally managed to understand each other — to the point where you began to feel an undeniable and overwhelming attraction to him.

This had me so excited, more changes are about to begin

“Damn, what’s so important that made you distracted like that?” He teased you and you gave him an awkward smile.

'Your lips'

Oh my god, what if I scream??

Im so glad she delves more into her family dynamic, very subtly and I also enjoy Hee’s ability to pivot the topic a bit since he realized the sensitivity of the topic. Aksi Hee becoming more filtarious will be the death of me like

“Are you calling me cute?” Heeseung smirked, bringing his face closer to yours. “I’m talking about the room.” You replied, swallowing hard, opening your laptop.

“Well, that's a pity then.” You felt your cheeks burn and your body fizz at the suggestive tone of his comment.

What if I just combusted

He wanted something to happen and this wasn’t good.

I will pass out i swear (freaking out so bad)

Heeseung kissed you, gently pressing his lips against yours, sending a dose of pleasure through your body. He gave you a long peck and quickly pulled away to make sure that this was really happening.

Giggling because oh my god, its finally happening and its so sweet too jesus, Ill throw up

Not even his deepest thoughts could recreate the exultant feeling he felt when he finally kissed you.

I will pass out for real

BIT JAKE DISTURBING NOOOO😭😭😭😭

“You look beautiful.” He took your hand and gave it a soft kiss on your knuckles while piercing through you with his intense eyes.

Girl istg I cant take this what the ?!?!

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “What I mean is that I’m here admitting that I want you.” he spoke directly making your legs weak.

You are single-handedly writing lines to make me crazy

“You should see me when I'm not wearing it, then.” you whispered sensually before biting Heeseung's ear making his breath shaky as he squeezed your thighs tightly “Fuck — stop teasing me, baby.”

Dont know if I wanna be Hee or her in this moment christ.

Man, first jake now her dad; the universe is really going out of its way to stop them. To make it worse, her dad is there?? I feel sick.

And just like lightning strikes a tree and burns it, you realized the obvious truth: you were in love with Lee Heeseung and would accept the consequences that would come with that reality.

Oh my god, this is so fucking sweet what

I lovelovelove that the entire interaction has made him realize fully what she had to deal with and the fact that he apologies?? On my knees oh my god

If someone had told you at the beginning of the semester that you would now be dating Lee Heeseung and walking hand in hand around campus, you would have thought they were crazy and needed to be hospitalized. But here you were, walking with a wide smile and bright eyes, your hand intertwined with Heeseung's soft fingers.

Oh my god I giggled again, im so happy hehe

I love that despite the relationship with her dad still being kind of unclear, you can tell theres improvement with the way hes so neutral with her going to other offices, its progress and Im happy with it. At least she should be able to find herself in the world of law better I think :) 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for an internship position at our law firm. We look forward to receiving your answer as soon as possible. — Jung & Taylor Legal Advisors

Perhaps your and Heeseung's journey into the legal world was just in the beginning.

Oh my god the end. Im so glad I read this, genuinely soso glad, I loved ever moment of it from the play in the class dynamics, the complexity behind it (i truly appreciate the way mc’s dad got out of poverty making it much more complex), the way the relationship between hee and mc began with hee’s distaste being him viewing her so one note and just like “any other rich girl” and mc irritated with just the attitude she got from him. And just the way their relationship blossomed so sweetly. Ugh, again Im so glad I read this.

Ruby, you have truly enraptured me with your writing and you will definitely hear from me again hehe

Lee Heeseung — REASONS TO (HATE) LOVE YOU

Your makeup is always intact, your hair is perfectly brushed, your clothes are always well-ironed and tidy, and your admirable grades are always on top. Many in the law course envy how you seem so perfect, unlike Lee Heeseung, who thinks everything about you is completely irritating. On the other hand, you can't stand Heeseung's arrogance. The way he always acts so pretentiously gets on your nerves, however, when you are forced to do a project together, you'll discover that this tension between you is much more than just hatred.

PAIRING: — Law Students - Heeseung x Reader (f)

GENRE: Academic rivals to lovers - (lower middle class) heeseung x (upper middle class) reader, fluffy, smut (mdni), a bit of angst - if you squint, super suggestive, slowburn.

WARNINGS: - lots of heavy making out (two in a bedroom and one in a storage room), lots of skinship, dirty talking, mutual pining, heavy sexual tension, yearning Heeseung, foreplay, soft dom Heeseung, teasing, petnames (baby, princess, pretty), skin marking (f receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, a few mentions of difficult family dynamics, miscommunication at the beginning, bickering, jealousy, Heeseung is kinda mean in the beginning but he becomes a loser and a simp (sorry not sorry), mentions of alcohol, cursing, a very brief mention of a man touching reader's shoulder in a non consensual way. + IVE's gaeul is reader's best friend. [reblogs and comments are always welcome]

WC: 28k — masterlist - perm taglist (open)

— Author Note: Guys, I'm back after a few months <3 It's finallyyyy hereee, I know it's big (I don't know how to write little when I get excited lmaooo sorry!!!) but I can guarantee you that it's fun since I wanted the story to give off rom-com vibes!! There are some specific legal concepts, but nothing too complicated to understand (I hope). I know that each country has its own legal system, so I used my country's legal system as a guide. Even though I proofread, it might have some typos. Anyways, I hope you guys like it ♡ If there are any errors pls lmk!!!

Since the beginning of human existence and during the formation of societies, law has been present. The norms and principles that governed ancient social groups were an archaic type of representation of what is known today as law. With the reformulation of how these laws should be formed after numerous social revolutions, law is still evolving, being considered one of the tools that keep human beings under control.

For some, the law itself is something to be feared, for others, something to be admired or somehow foreign. However, when it comes to law school, opinions differ.

For many laypeople, law school is a distant world, something unattainable and bureaucratic, that only forged and trained minds can reach. After all, dealing with the daily problems of human beings, but also understanding their treacherous nature requires a lot of vocation.

For Lee Heeseung, law is fascinating.

He finds it amazing the possibility to reach deep into society and cause a stir with some well-founded arguments. For Heeseung, there was a kind of freedom in knowing how the legal system in his country worked that fascinated him intrinsically. Heeseung has always been curious, especially because he wanted to understand why so many injustices could not be easily resolved. What was stopping a country from truly delivering justice?

But despite being an idealist, Heeseung learned that people can be hypocritical, cold, fake and especially selfish when it comes to something that is about their own interests. And perhaps that is the main reason why the system is so flawed.

Personally, Heeseung can't stand hypocrisy and in his opinion, everything about you screamed 'hypocrisy'. From the way you dressed and carried yourself to the way you spoke – everything irritated him. Initially, he didn't have this curious aversion towards you. He didn't really care about your presence, despite noticing that you drew attention wherever you went.

The hypnotized looks around you and the sneaky approaches trying to create some kind of bond with you demonstrated a clear situation: you were from an important family, or your beauty was a factor that contributed to that. This type of approach was expected within the law school, which was full of people who only cared about other people's backgrounds.

However, Heeseung only confirmed his suspicions when your surname began to be whispered in the hallways. Y/N Park, the famous daughter of a renowned attorney with a giant office in the city center.

Heeseung laughed at the irony: Of course, you are just another privileged rich girl who is only in college as a rite of passage with a ready and perfect pass to a job already premeditated by your father.

There were many people like this in law school, but for some unknown reason you affected Heeseung differently. The way you presented yourself perfectly, without any flaws, almost theatrically bothered him.

But even though he knew you were the type of girl he wouldn't want to get close to, his disdain began to increase after a specific episode. It all started when you were in Criminology class and there was a free debate going on about the ‘Historical Development of Criminology' and what impact it had on law in the modern world.

You were explaining about the evolution of the concept of crime, and how Cesare Beccaria had contributed to the Classical School of Criminology, in which the concept of crime is based on what is in the law with a focus on restoring social order and the criminal justice system, given that the free and conscious choice of a delinquent to commit a crime affected not only the victim, but the entire society.

According to your train of thought, there are social factors that influence people to commit petty crimes and that would eventually be appreciated in other modern schools. But even with your impeccable contribution, Heeseung couldn't take you seriously when he saw you using an overpriced bag while criticizing the dry theory of the classical school.

Heeseung was no fool, he knew that life wasn't fair and there would be people in better financial situations than him. In fact, he had fought hard to get into a good university and study law, so he had a pride about his academic achievements, but there was something about you that drove him crazy. He couldn't put it into words, but you triggered specific emotions in his brain — and the main one was agitation.

So, for every argument you brought up, he inevitably countered with something new. What was supposed to be just a friendly debate between classmates turned into a heated argument between you and him.

“I agree, however, if you allow me to make a brief criticism, we know that even with social issues involved, the key point of free will and the delinquent’s conscious choice to commit a crime – an argument that came from the classical school – is taken into consideration today as well.” Heeseung countered, making you sigh for having cut off your train of thought.

“Of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that social issues have a great weight in this matter.” You leaned over the table and he chuckled “Yes, I agree that they do have an influence, but you must admit that even with all the influence in the world, we know that it's not that simple to understand the conscience of an individual who commits crimes.”

Even though he didn't say much, Heeseung saw how irritated you were: you seemed out of breath, your eyebrows were furrowed, and your gaze was fixed on him. And it was at that exact moment — when your eyes locked for a few seconds and he smirked — that he knew that irritating you would be his new entertainment.

For the first time in his life, he had seen you make an expression other than your serious one or the one with that meticulously adjusted smile you gave when you wanted to appear overly polite. Seeing how he pressed the specific buttons to irritate you was the new entertainment that was missing in Heeseung's college life, and it made him more elated than it should have been.

And this brief rivalry that was born unexpectedly in a debate, continued to extend to test scores, projects and final evaluations in the following semesters. Heeseung couldn't deny that you were very intelligent because he had lost 1st place in many situations, but that didn't discourage him and instead motivated him even more, because each perfect 100 that he achieved and threw in your face was absolutely satisfying.

So Heeseung's college life became hectic, as he was the famous student brave enough to face the "queen" of the course.

The one and only— Lee Heeseung —the reason for your extra study sessions, as you swore you would never let yourself lose to Heeseung in any aspect of academic life.

After all, nothing was better than the feeling of beating Heeseung at the very game he created.

☆

Your reflection in the bedroom mirror seemed to show that everything was in perfect order. Your hair was neat, your clothes were well-ironed, and the hydrated glow of your skin was even more noticeable that late afternoon. But in reality, you were distracted, reflecting on your past.

When you were in high school, your father gave you two options for college:

1) Med school or 2) Law school. That's it.

Unfortunately, you had no choice or desire of your own regarding your future, because according to your father, all that mattered was studying something with a “financial return”. In a way, you understood your father's vision, because he was a man who had suffered from poverty and hunger in the past, and became who he is with a lot of pain and sacrifice. However, the pressure and responsibility that came with being his daughter were very heavy.

A man who had been brutalized by the hard life he had led could not think of other realities in life. Your father didn’t believe in “talents” or “gifts” that couldn’t pay the bills. It didn't matter how good you were at some sport or art-related hobby. If it didn’t bring money home it shouldn’t be pursued – or worse, desired and dreamed of.

When he wanted to talk to you about something specific, he would always call you to his personal office. The same office that you found terrifying because it was so impersonal. The dark gray walls, the low lighting, and the plain furniture, without any memorabilia, photos, or any kind of decoration that would indicate any personality trait — everything gave off a cold, indifferent, distant air.

Since work had consumed his life, you knew you had to take advantage of these minutes of interaction with your father. He would often sit there, typing and reading cases on the computer, with his attention 100% focused on the screen that must have contained sensitive information (that was what your curious mind used to believe).

“You understand, right sweetie? I only want the best for you.” Your father would often take your hand and squeeze it gently as wrinkles crept into the corners of his eyes with the small smile he gave you “Yes, father. I understand.” You would respond like a perfect little doll who obeyed without questioning his ideas.

But even though you’d done everything your father had told you to do up until now, you knew that this wasn't the path you wanted to follow forever.

You wanted options. Options for what to do with your future that didn’t involve working in your father’s office. This expectation that everyone around you has that you will become the next face of your father's office is like a weight that you have to carry, but you’ve already decided that your path will be different.

But no one besides your best friend knows about it.

Luckily, you had always liked law, so you had delved deeper into the careers you could pursue over time. The prosecutor's office seemed interesting, after all, criminal law is a passion of yours. Unlike your father, who liked corporate and civil law, which is why he had all kinds of demands in his office.

However, you could try to become an attorney at another firm and gain experience in another area of law. There were certainly many options for you to explore, and fortunately there was still time for you to figure out what you really wanted to do, and the next steps to take.

As you wandered through thoughts about your future, your best friend and roommate, Gaeul, snapped you out of your prolonged reverie.

“Are you going out?” she was holding a bag of potato chips when she appeared at your bedroom door “I’m going to another extra study session.” You gave her a delicate smile and picked up your bag before heading towards Gaeul who looked at you suspiciously “Again?”

“Sure, why not?” Gaeul sighed “You know you don’t have to do all of this to beat Heeseung.” she followed you through the small dorm “You’re already too good, I don’t understand this rivalry between you two.”

“Gaeul, it’s much more than rivalry.” You took out your keys to open the front door “It’s a matter of honor! I can’t lose to that prick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure...” she laughed before taking another bite of the potato chip “Have fun babe!” You blew an air kiss that made Gaeul make a funny face “I will!”

☆

The library was quiet, with the perfect atmosphere for a late afternoon study session. This time of day was always your favorite, the sun setting through the window and the tranquility of the place made the environment completely cozy, even if you had to read something grueling.

You were reading the work of a famous criminal law scholar when your peace was interrupted by the soft tapping of fingers on the table in front of you. “Busy?” Heeseung’s unmistakable ironic voice made you take a deep breath, trying not to get irritated by his mocking manner.

One of the rules you strictly follow is that you won’t interact with Lee Heeseung unless it is absolutely necessary. Even though you are a calm and reserved person, the slightest interaction with Heeseung somehow stresses you out.

“Can’t you see I’m obviously studying?” Heeseung felt the vein in his neck throb in irritation and clicked his tongue when he saw how you didn’t even look at his face to answer him.

“Well, I think you need to see this.” he placed the paper in front of your eyes. Reluctantly you placed the book on the table and held the sheet up, looking at the contents of what was there “What is this?” You asked in disbelief as you saw your name paired next to Heeseung’s under a title that said ‘international law project’.

“Are you surprised?” You turned to Heeseung with wide eyes “As you can see, we are partners in Mrs. Jung’s project.” for the first time that day, all of your focus faded in a matter of seconds.

'No. No. No. This couldn't be happening. Me and Lee Heeseung together? In a project?'

“What do you mean? How the hell did this happen?” Heeseung took the liberty of sitting next to you. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair “I don’t know either. Earlier I was leaving an extracurricular activity when Jay called me to look at the bulletin board because the pairings for the new project in the international law class had been announced.”

You stopped for a moment and began to remember that in the last international law class, Mrs. Jung had said that there would be a new project for that semester and that she didn't like to draw pairs, so she would choose the pairs herself.

And with the immense luck you had, she decided that the partner who would suit you best would be Lee Heeseung, out of the entire class.

“When I got close to the mural, Jay was staring at me with a hilarious face.” Heeseung gave a clearly frustrated sigh as he ran his hand over his face “I just didn’t expect it to be because of this.”

“This has to be a mistake.” It couldn’t be true. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Unfortunately, it’s true, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Heeseung, who seemed too resigned for your liking “I’m not going to do this project with you, I– we have to talk to the teacher.”

Heeseung gave you a wry laugh “You can try talking to her, but it won’t work.” he picked up the paper from the table and analyzed the names again as if to confirm that it was real “The seniors already told me that Mrs. Jung is strict and doesn’t make exceptions. She never changes her plan.”

Your stomach began to feel heavy with the anxiety that was building up. You also heard these rumors from a senior who had given you tips about the worst teachers she had to deal with.

“I don’t care, I’ll talk to her.”

“Do whatever you want, I warned you.” Heeseung gave you one last pitiful look and got up from his chair “Are you going to leave like that? We need to talk about this.” he looked at you and shrugged his shoulders putting his hands in his coat pockets “The teacher isn’t here right now, we’ll look into this tomorrow.”

If there was something about Heeseung that really stressed you out, it was his attitude like he knew everything and had everything under control. As if he was better than everyone else.

“But we need to align what should be said!” You countered and Heeseung sighed, running his thumb and index finger over his furrowed eyebrows “God, you’re so annoying.”

Your breath stopped for a moment. How could Lee Heeseung have the audacity to call you annoying? Him of all people? The most insufferable person of all?

“What did you say?!” You stood up from your chair “Say that again!”

He smirked and took a step closer to you “You’re annoying.” Your blood was boiling as his face was just above yours “Everything about you irritates me.”

“Look who’s talking.” You scoffed and pointed at Heeseung with your index finger “You’re completely unbearable and you want to talk about me?”

Heeseung's jaw clenched, and you smirked, seeing how he was also clearly irritated by your response "Heeseung, I'm gonna be honest with you. I think you're just an arrogant prick, and I have no interest in working with you." You gave him a false smile while he frowned.

"Well, I feel the same." he said through gritted teeth and walked away "We'll sort this out tomorrow."

"Great." You took the paper and put it inside your book and closed it. Your desire to study had completely disappeared, and now you needed to think about how to talk to Mrs. Jung, because no way in hell you are going to pair up with Heeseung.

No way.

☆

The international law class was lasting longer than usual that Wednesday.

Your legs were shaking as anxiety corroded your entire body. Heeseung looked calm, his head resting on his right hand as he sat a few chairs in front of you. He had no idea of the storm that was happening inside you.

You had to convince the teacher that she needed to choose another partner for you. Anyone would do, even the slowest human being you could handle, except Lee Heeseung. Not him. Doing a project with him would be extremely stressful. You even felt a pang in your head when you imagined the stupid arguments you would have over simple things.

The truth is that initially you didn't care much for Heeseung, but you started to notice that since the beginning of college he did everything he could to talk back to you. He could never agree with you 100%, no matter the topic. So over time you started to nurture these feelings of rivalry and irritation towards him.

It was unbearable how he acted as if he was better than you and tried to prove it at all costs. That's why you made the decision to never let him surpass you, even in simple college activities. You would beat Lee Heeseung, even if it cost you a few more hours of studying.

However, now with this shared project this would certainly be a problem.

When class ended and the students left one by one, Heeseung calmly put his materials in his bag, as if he knew that his stoicism would irritate you. Mrs. Jung was sitting in her chair as she finished organizing some papers when you slowly approached.

“Uh, excuse me, Mrs. Jung. Can I have a few words with you?” Your soft voice drew the teacher’s attention away from her papers, who smiled back at you “Oh, miss Park, of course. How can I help you?”

You bit your lower lip hesitantly as the teacher looked at you carefully “It’s about the recent international law project; I saw that it’s going to be in pairs.” the teacher’s smile widened “Yes, I think it will be a great project for you.” she stood up from her chair holding the sheets “Is there a problem?”

“Actually, there is.” You were hoping internally that your nervousness wouldn’t show too much “I noticed that you chose Heeseung to be my partner, but since we’re not very close, I don’t think it’ll work out.” the teacher’s eyes seemed attentive to you “Then I’d like to ask about the possibility of changing partners.”

Mrs. Jung gave you a small sigh before offering you a gentle smile “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible, miss Park. Since I’ve already separated all the pairs, they’ve already started their research. Besides, it would be problematic to disrupt this entire system because of a request.” You started to feel despair set in your bones “I understand, Mrs. Jung, but it really will be difficult to work with Hees–”

“Miss Park, I chose Heeseung to be your partner because I think you two would be a great pair.” she interrupted you, leaving you speechless “What do you mean?”

The teacher seemed to think for a moment “I think you are a good match. You bring out the best in each other, and I think you will do a fabulous job with this research.”

Heeseung had arrived at exactly this time and stood frozen beside you.

“But—” You were cut off again by the teacher “The pairings will not be changed and this is final, miss Park. Okay?”

“Alright… Thank you for listening to me, Mrs. Jung.” she smiled before grabbing her bag “You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to seeing what you guys come up with.”

Heeseung watched you from the corner of his eye as the teacher left first. You were paralyzed as if a lightning had struck you.

“I told you she wouldn’t change her mind.” he broke the silence and you grimaced in pain.

“Oh, shut up.” You left first trying to accept the idea that you would have to put up with Heeseung as your partner for the rest of the semester.

Heeseung was having an internal debate as he waited for class to end. He didn't know whether he should talk to you and decide to start this research right away or wait for you to say something.

He had sat a few chairs behind you and saw how focused you seemed in class. For the first time this semester, he couldn't pay attention to what was being taught. How was he going to work with the girl he couldn't stand? And worse: for an entire semester? Not even in his worst dreams did he imagine something like this would happen.

As he pondered what to do, Jake glared at him with the corner of his eye “Dude, you’re making a scary face.”

Heeseung looked away and ran his hand through his dark hair “Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Distracted?” Jake smirked “You looked like a creepy staring at her.” Heeseung sighed “I  have to do the international law project with her.”

Jake put his hand over his mouth to contain the laugh that was threatening to escape “Oh man, you’re screwed.”

“I know.” Heeseung leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself “I need to talk to her.”

“Good luck.” Jake gave him a side smile and shook his head as Heeseung remained with his eyes closed.

When class ended, Heeseung gathered all the courage he had and walked towards you. You also looked haggard. Although your clothes were perfect and your hair was as shiny as ever, the circles under your eyes showed your tiredness as you put your materials in your bag.

A small smile began to form on Heeseung’s face, but he held it back. He couldn’t laugh at your face when he knew that he also had to accept the reality that you would have to put up with each other for the next few months.

“Hey.” that was all Heeseung could say as he watched you approach him “Hi.” Your dry response made the atmosphere heavy.

“I need your phone number to schedule the meetings about our project.” he was trying to be civil, no one could complain about that.

You sighed, showing your clear lack of interest in any conversation with him “Okay.”

Heeseung was really holding back his sharp mouth, but you weren't making it easy.

The way your hand handed your phone while you looked away irritated Heeseung deeply “Do you always have to be this petty?”

“What?” You asked confused as he finished putting his number into your phone “Can’t you interact for 5 minutes without being petty? Is it that hard?”

In your mind you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Lee Heeseung wanting to lecture you about pettiness?

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who can’t go 5 minutes without criticizing anything I do.” Heeseung bit his lower lip, trying to hold his tongue. He was already upset, and you weren’t helping.

“Probably because you don’t make it easier?” he sighed and ran his fingertips over his temples, trying to regain his former calm state “You know what, forget about it. Have you saved my number?” his patience was running out, and so was yours.

“Yes, unfortunately.” You whispered the last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.

“See you after class.” he put his phone in his pocket and his backpack on his right shoulder.

You just nodded and left first.

'Yeah, this is really going to be difficult.' Heeseung thought before leaving the room with his mind messed up by the simple interaction you two had.

☆

The library was relatively crowded, but since you previously arranged with Heeseung, you managed to arrive together at the same time.

“Well, look at that. Lee Heeseung isn’t late, I'm surprised.” You teased as you sat down and took your laptop out of your bag.

“Tsk.” Heeseung clicked his tongue as he placed his notebooks on the table “Of course. The sooner we start, the sooner I can leave.” he replied, thinking about how he wanted this torture to end once and for all.

“Finally you said something I agree with.” You retorted as you opened a blank Word document and began sorting through your materials.

Heeseung had already noticed that you liked everything organized. Your materials were always organized in the same way: pens, laptop and a notebook lined up.

“Well, do you have any ideas or suggestions on what we can do?” Heeseung was a little surprised by your question, after all, he expected you to decide everything at once and create a big fight if he disagreed.

“I think this subject is too extensive, we can’t do a generic theme.” You nodded as you stared at the laptop screen “That makes sense. I think we should dive deeper into some specific subjects.”

“I usually research and read about the subject superficially before diving into complicated concepts.” Heeseung showed the sheet of paper from his notebook that had some sketches of past summaries he had done in other subjects.

“International law is a pain because if we read about everything, we’ll waste a lot of time.” You commented, scratching your head, feeling frustrated “Let’s choose some subjects we like and see which ones are the best.”

“Fine.” Heeseung just wanted to get it over with.

For the next 10 minutes you were in complete silence. As if it was a silent mutual agreement that you would only speak if it was absolutely necessary.

Interestingly, the discomfort was bearable. Was it strange that you were sitting side by side without saying anything? Yes, but at least when you didn't say anything, you didn't fight, and that was enough for the moment.

“These are my suggestions.” You looked at the list Heeseung had made, but one suggestion in particular caught your eye.

“Post-war law?” You tilted your head to the side “It’s too generic and complicated, we need to think about it.” Heeseung sighed “How can this be too generic? It’s literally about the law after wars.”

You mockingly laughed “Exactly. What kind of wars are you talking about? Because we can’t talk about every war in existence.” Heeseung felt a stab of anger in his head.

“So, what are your suggestions, genius?” Heeseung’s pejorative tone wasn’t enough to make you lose your patience, so you turned the laptop screen to show your contribution.

“We can talk about certain differences in the legal system in some countries and filter out only the most interesting ones.” Heeseung snorted and pointed at your laptop screen “That’s as generic as my suggestion!”

“Of course not!” clearly the discussion would not end there “We can only choose a few countries.”

“And we could talk about a few wars, for example the most famous ones? Like World War I or World War II?” his ironic tone gave you the creeps, in a bad way.

“It’s still a very simple theme, we should do something more elaborated.” You turned your laptop screen towards you and Heeseung took a deep breath.

“And isn’t your topic simple?” he approached you and looked into your eyes “You just want to do what’s convenient for you, as always.”

“What do you mean by that?” The tone of your voice clearly showed that you were now very mad. How could Heeseung make a single task so difficult?

“Forget it, you wouldn’t understand.” he whispered, clearly irritated.

Another 10 minutes of complete silence. Neither you nor Heeseung wanted to say anything else. It was clear that this would be a difficult task, but you tried to be rational and calm down.

What was at stake here was your grade, your academic record, and your future. You couldn't let Heeseung be an obstacle in your path.

“Look, let’s get one thing straight.” You turned to Heeseung who gave you a lazy look “It’s clear we don’t like each other.”

“Hm.” Heeseung nodded and waved his hands in the air as if he wanted you to get to the point quickly.

“But I don’t care about that. What I really care about is my grades, so if I have to do this damn project with you, I’ll do it.” Heeseung kept looking at you, waiting for you to finish “So, if you put your childishness aside for a moment and really help me, we’ll be able to finish this today.”

You were clearly nervous and out of patience.

“Then, can you please cooperate with me?” Heeseung somehow felt a bit remorseful, thinking that perhaps he had overreacted with the way you seemed to beg for the two of you to end this quickly.

“Okay, we clearly can’t reach a consensus, so let’s use another method.” he pulled his chair closer to you “What are you doing?”

“What do you like?” his bright, dark eyes stared into yours with intensity “What are you most comfortable with in international law?”

“I like the criminal part.” You whispered a little shyly as he got closer to you “Good.” Heeseung began to write in his notebook “I like the human rights part, especially the Post-World War II issue.”

You watched as he outlined the topics you both liked.

“Let’s research these themes and at the next meeting we’ll decide what to do.” he said and leaned back in his chair, looking at you.

“Okay. This might work.” You nodded, thinking it might be a good idea.

“It’ll work.” There it was. The tone of absolute certainty in Heeseung’s voice that usually irritated you, but this time you were satisfied that you had managed to reach a consensus.

“Okay, I’ll start now.” You stood up and headed towards some books in the international law section of the library, while Heeseung decided to research on the internet.

The rest of the meeting you were silent, researching the topics, but this time it wasn't awkward or heavy. You were just two students focusing on what you needed to do.

And that was enough for now.

“So, how is your international law project going?” Jay brought up the topic while he, Jake, and Heeseung were gathered in the campus cafeteria.

“Don’t remind me of that.” he sighed as he sipped on a soda “We managed to have a fight before the first meeting.”

“Damn, you guys are too complicated.” Jake commented with a smile “Luckily my partner on the project is Jay.” he fist bumped Jay.

“You guys are lucky. We’re trying to be civil, but sometimes it’s unavoidable not to get angry.” Jay narrowed his eyes as he studied his friend trying to understand why Heeseung seemed so reactive to you “You guys should see the way she acts. It’s like she does this on purpose to irritate me!”

“Can you believe the Mrs. Jung said she put us together because she thought we were a good match?” Heeseung gave a wry smile while Jake and Jay looked at each other with a knowing look and mocking smiles “She said I brought out the best in her, some shit like that.”

“Well, I somewhat agree.” Jay countered Heeseung “Since you two started interacting, you’ve become more dedicated to your studies.”

“Real, brother. You worry more about her than yourself when exam week comes.” Jake blurted out, and Jay laughed, making Heeseung stunned by his friend's confession.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Heeseung sighed “I don’t care about her. I just like being the best in the class! That’s all.”

Jay smirked and put his arm around his friend's shoulder “Sure, sure… but you can't deny she's hot.”

Heeseung stood frozen in place at what Jay had said. He wasn't blind, he knew you were a beautiful woman, but that didn't change the fact that you were annoying to him.

“None of that changes the fact that she’s annoying.” Heeseung looked away as Jake and Jay chuckled.

“In my opinion, I think you lowkey admire her, but you can’t admit it and that’s why you act like that.” Jake teased Heeseung who was stunned “Just admit you’re into her man, it’s okay.” Jay said and Jake snickered “Huh? You guys are crazy.” he got up from his chair and decided to leave while Jay and Jake laughed.

“C'mon Heeseung! Don't run away like that!” Jake and Jay stood up and decided to follow him while Heeseung went ahead.

So what if you were pretty and attractive? That didn't change anything.

You were still the rich girl he couldn't stand.

☆

After a few days of research, you and Heeseung decided to have a meeting to decide on the final theme for your project.

It was already 16:24 in the afternoon and he still hadn't arrived, which was strange because Heeseung was always on time. Being late for more than 20 minutes wasn't like him.

Before you could text him, Heeseung hurried into the library. He was more casual than ever, wearing a dark gray sweater and a beanie, and you noticed that he was pale with slightly red cheeks and nose.

“Sorry for the delay, something’s got in the way.” he sounded haggard and strangely tired. His voice was hoarser than usual and you could tell he wasn’t doing very well.

“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly. Even though he was annoying, he clearly didn’t look okay “If you’re not okay, we can postpone it and–”

“I'm fine.” he cut you off in a harsh tone “Let's get this over with.” You stared at him in disbelief at the way he was acting.

“Wow.” You spoke ironically and didn’t hold back “Heeseung, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He closed his eyes temporarily, trying not to say anything. As if any noise would hurt like hell inside his head.

“I was just worried because you’re clearly not okay. If you want to be a jerk, then you can be by yourself.” You got up from the chair trying to leave and Heeseung grabbed your wrist “Let go of me.” You looked at his hand around your wrist and felt tortured by how soft and large his hand was compared to yours.

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung opened his eyes slightly and looked at you in a way that you swore you almost saw some kind of affection “Don’t go, please.”

You swallowed hard and sat back down on the chair, seeing how regretful Heeseung looked. “I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just…” he sighed as if he didn’t want to admit his weakness “The truth is, I caught a cold and I’m not feeling very well, but I didn’t want to postpone our meeting.”

“Heeseung, you’re sick! We can do this in a few days, we still have time.” You looked at Heeseung with pity, who coughed a little “You need to recover, come on.”

He let go of your wrist, turning his gaze to you, who stood up again “But what about choosing the theme for our project?” he clearly seemed worried about the project, and you sighed.

“You’re not in a position to study, you need to prioritize your health.” Heeseung watched you grab your bag “We’ll decide that after you recover.”

Heeseung just nodded. At that moment he didn't want to argue or study, he just wanted his bed and sleep for the next 10 hours straight.

“Come on, I’ll accompany you.” You waited for Heeseung to leave first and followed him, after all, how could you trust a guy who was clearly sick.

Before he could leave campus, you bought a warm drink from a vending machine that was right next to the door.

“Here.” You handed the can to Heeseung “It’s good for you, it’s orange juice so it must have vitamin C.”

“Okay, thanks mom.” he replied and your eyes widened at his audacity “Hey!”

“I was joking, silly.” Heeseung gave you a smirk that disconcerted you.

It was the first time he had ever genuinely smiled at you. It wasn't a mocking smile or a fake smile after he said the most passive-aggressive thing possible. He was actually giving you a genuine, real smile.

And you definitely didn't want to admit that he had a very beautiful smile.

“Well, uh… anyways, take your medicine and recover. We’ll reschedule the meeting.” he looked down at the hot drink and gave you another smile before looking back at you. “Okay, see you later.” He – shockingly – kindly said “Thank you.” his gaze was fixed on yours, and for some reason, it made you feel embarrassed.

“It’s nothing.” You looked away “See you later.”

He gave you one last smile before leaving first. As you watched him walk away you began to wonder what kind of man Lee Heeseung was, who insisted on going to your meeting even though he was sick.

☆

You were choosing a movie to watch with Gaeul when your phone vibrated. Gaeul was putting the freshly popped popcorn in the bowl when you saw on your phone that surprisingly Heeseung had texted you.

[Lee Heestupid] — Hey

[Lee Heestupid] — Just wanted to say thank you for the orange juice.

21:46 pm

You smiled a little, seeing that he had the courage to send you a message about something that isn’t your project.

[You] — It's nothing. Are you feeling better?

21:48 pm

[Lee Heestupid] — Yeah, I'm way better now.

[Lee Heestupid] — If you're free, let's meet tomorrow for our project.

21:51 pm

[You] — Sure, it works for me.

21:52 pm

[Lee Heestupid] — Great

[Lee Heestupid] — See you then

21:53pm

[You] — See you.

21:53pm

“Who are you talking to?” Gaeul asked suspiciously as she approached your couch “I was just rescheduling the project meeting with Heeseung.” You locked your phone and tapped the fabric of the couch next to you indicating that you wanted her to sit there.

She stopped in her tracks and gave you a mischievous smile, looking at you. “I can’t believe you were smiling like that while you were texting Heeseung.” You rolled your eyes at Gaeul's suggestive tone “What do you mean? I was normal.” You looked away to the TV “Nuh-uh.” She was clearly enjoying the whole thing “I think you’re starting to like him after all this time.”

“Girl, you’re crazy.” You sighed thinking about Gaeul’s fertile mind and she sat next to you hugging your arm “Come on, admit that you changed your conception of him. Even if it’s just a little.”

You paused for a moment and thought “He’s still insufferable, but this time he was polite.” Gaeul chuckled, taking a handful of popcorn. “Oh, this is going to be interesting.”

“Babe, let’s just watch the movie.” You changed the subject and Gaeul was laughing beside you “Okaaaay.”

☆

As much as you didn't want to admit it, the atmosphere between you and Heeseung had certainly changed a bit. It was noticeable that although his thoughtless sarcasm hadn't changed, you two fought less about your project. Heeseung's posture was still as confident as ever, but a part of you had gotten used to this eccentric trait of his. Maybe he was naturally like this in any area of his life, or maybe he was forced to be like this.

“While I was recovering, I thought about how to combine our interests in our project.” Heeseung looked much better. His face had a healthy glow, his lips were pinker and, curiously, you noticed how his nose was perfectly shaped. Did he always have this insane profile?

“What’s your suggestion?” You asked, adjusting your seat, trying to dispel the strange thoughts that were distracting you “We can talk about criminal accountability and the evolution of post-war human rights within international law.”

You thought for a moment “That might work.” The smile that formed on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung who was taken aback “It’s just going to be harder than expected, since it’s a topic that we’re going to have to delve into in depth so we can’t leave any gaps.”

“I accept the challenge.” He smirked while looking into your eyes “And what about you? Are you scared?” You rolled your eyes, seeing how he never misses an opportunity to tease you.

“Of course not.” You snorted “You know I never run away from a challenge. After all, I’m the best in the class.” Heeseung’s eyebrow twitched slightly at your insinuation “Actually, we’re tied and you know it.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right.” You sighed “But it doesn’t change the fact that we’ll have to work hard with this topic.” Heeseung gave an airy laugh through his nose seeing how excited you were “Indeed, but at least we were able to officially set the theme of our project.”

“Now we need to define the next steps.” You stretched your arms and Heeseung couldn’t help but see part of your waist when your shirt rose slightly “I guess that’s a good idea, because we also have to study for that civil law presentation in three weeks.” He looked away to the screen of his laptop.

You widened your eyes and turned to Heeseung “Oh my God, I thought it would be in a month!” Opening your tablet's calendar you came across the date marked on a Tuesday in three weeks “I was so worried about our project that I lost track of time.”

“You're welcome.” Heeseung said without looking at you as he researched the subjects he needed to study for your project “It seems like I’m taking up too much of your mind for you to forget a presentation.” He snickered and you grimaced.

“Ugh, you wish.” You sighed as you typed on your laptop causing Heeseung to give you an enigmatic smile.

Yeah. As you thought, Lee Heeseung was still a pain in the ass.

Miraculously, after weeks of not going out, Heeseung was at a party. Contrary to what many people think, Heeseung doesn't go out to many parties. Since he has a scholarship to take care of, his main focus is on studying. However, when he has some free time, he allows himself the luxury of enjoying some kind of fun.

Today was no different as Jake managed to convince him that he needed to clear his head after being sick.

Since part of the international law project was well underway and he had made progress on his civil law assignment, he allowed himself to relax for a few hours at that random party on a Friday. Jake and Jay seemed more lively, taking advantage of the opportunity to play beer pong with boys from other courses.

Heeseung had been drinking for a while now, but nothing seemed very interesting. The music was great, but he was still feeling tired from working twice as hard during the week, so he decided to sit on an old couch that was empty. As he slowly drank, he began to analyze his surroundings, and noticed that he was surrounded by couples or people who were there with the aim of flirting and hooking up with someone.

Personally, Heeseung didn't have many girlfriends. He had gone on a few dates, talked to a few girls, and even had a serious girlfriend for a year and a few months during high school, but nothing had lasted that long. Life hadn't been easy for Heeseung's family, so all he could think about was how he needed to help out at home with the money from tiring part-time jobs and how to pay for his upcoming college expenses.

Love was a distant topic for Heeseung.

Most of the time he was worried about his future and the reality he wanted to improve. That's why love and relationships were foreign subjects on his mind. Jake used to say that he needed to relax a bit and at least try to meet someone during college, but he was too busy.

Too busy studying, working and self-improving but mainly busy thinking about you.

The amount of times you wandered through his mind seemed unhealthy. It was as if you were always there unconsciously, terrorizing the corners of Heeseung's mind. Like a presence he couldn't get rid of, like you were a sticker glued in the album of his thoughts.

He always swore he didn't care much about your appearance, but his breath caught for a moment when from afar he saw you with a short black skirt and a brown turtleneck blouse clinging to your torso. Heeseung felt his body sober up in an instant and he leaned over his knees so he could confirm his suspicion.

That shiny hair and that unique smile were unmistakable in his eyes. Yes, it was you.

Heeseung swallowed hard and felt strange for not being able to take his eyes off you. “Sure, sure… but you can't deny she's hot.” Jay's sentence from that day kept echoing in Heeseung's mind as he tried to convince himself that this was no big deal.

You've always been beautiful. No, you're always impeccable. As if you never had a bad day, you're always well-tied up, wearing a sweet perfume, unbeatable, gorgeous... stunning. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. In a way, your determination to always show your best version is impressive, especially in the world of law where Heeseung knows how much appearances matter.

But he never really stopped to look at you. Heeseung’s judgment was always clouded by his anger at what you represented. At the spoiled, privileged girl who would never experience what it was like to suffer from not having enough money for leisure or having every penny counted to pay the bills.

Your existence was almost an affront to him—even though you had never done anything to him.

But even though he knew all of this. Even though he had convinced himself that you were his rival, his eyes couldn't take their eyes off your figure. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the fatigue, but your legs seemed even more toned under the dark blue light of the place.

He swallowed hard, seeing how your eyes seemed to sparkle as you talked to a girl beside you that he assumed it was your best friend. Have you always had an outfit that adorned your waist flawlessly like that?

'It's okay, I can admire a beautiful woman.' Heeseung argued in his own mind as if he needed to justify himself for the thoughts he was having at that moment.

Thoughts of how hauntingly attractive you are.

Heeseung bent the cup he was holding a little from squeezing it so hard and ran his hand over his face. He was wondering if he should talk to you or just let it go. Even if he decided to go to you, what would he say? 'Hi, good to see you project partner.'? Absolutely not. That would be too pathetic of him.

After a few seconds of struggling, he decided to stay still. It could have been really awkward if he tried to say something out of the blue. Besides, you were with your friend, so he decided he wouldn't bother you.

However, as if life was playing tricks on Heeseung, he saw a weird man approaching you. A guy he had seen before at the party, and who was clearly not feeling well after drinking way past his limits. From afar Heeseung watched with his eyes as the clueless guy approached and tried to say something to you, which showed instant discomfort.

When the guy dared to touch your shoulder, Heeseung stood up at the same time, feeling his blood boil. You had a frown on your face and were obviously saying no. Even with the loud music, he could tell that you weren't enjoying that approach by the gestures you were making as you got away from the guy.

As he couldn't contain himself, Heeseung stomped towards him and pushed the guy back hard with his forearm. In a single movement he hugged your waist and pulled you towards him, slamming your back into his chest.

“Hey! Are you stupid? She said no!” Heeseung spoke harshly and you turned your face to him, shocked by the situation “Get the hell out of here, son of a bitch!”

“Ahh shi–” before the guy could finish his sentence Heeseung pushed him hard and the guy staggered back while cursing some swear words. The people around started staring at the guy who was clearly drunk and out of his mind.

“Let’s get out of here.” He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You just nodded and turned around with Heeseung as the other guy walked away aimlessly, bumping into other people.

As Heeseung led you through the crowd, your heart was racing. In less than 10 minutes of partying, Gaeul had gone to the bathroom, a drunk man disturbed you, Heeseung had saved you and now had his arm behind your back and his right hand firmly gripped on your waist while the other made room for you to pass.

It was almost like a scene from a movie where the security guard makes room for the protagonist to pass without touching anyone.

Your mind was spiraling when you arrived at the backyard near the kitchen that didn't have many people and had a bench for you to sit on. Heeseung let go of you and closed the kitchen door behind him seeing how shocked you looked at everything that happened.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung’s gentle tone made you finally look at him that night.

Your breath hitched and your mouth hung open seeing that he was wearing a white tank top showing his collarbone, a silver chain over it, an open dark gray jacket and dark jeans.

“Yes...” You felt your cheeks heat up as you noticed how his intense dark eyes didn’t look away from yours “Thank you, Heeseung.” You shyly mumbled feeling your stomach stir as he sighed, running his hand through his hair which was slightly messy, showing a bit of his forehead.

Even if you wanted to deny it, it would be an obvious lie, because clearly Lee Heeseung was so hot that you were at a loss for words.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can get you a water or something.” He looked genuinely concerned and didn't know what to do to make you feel better, but you smiled gently. “It’s okay, really.” You sighed in relief “You really helped me out back there. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, as a man it’s what I should do.” He sat down next to you “That guy is an idiot; I should’ve kicked his ass.” You laughed and propped your face on the back of your hand looking at Heeseung “It would have been great entertainment, but you don’t need to harm yourself because of a drunk idiot.”

Heeseung allowed himself to relax after what happened “I guess you’re right… but what really matters is that you’re okay.”

“I am, thanks to you who saved me.” Heeseung gave an almost imperceptible smile, slightly embarrassed by the tone of your voice, but he calmed down when he saw how you looked fine and out of danger. You continued to observe Heeseung's face thinking how curious it was how different he looked when he genuinely smiled.

Heeseung's smile is splendid, like the perfect complement to his handsome profile.

He turned to you and suddenly you felt aware of his gaze.

“To be honest, I was surprised to see you here.” Heeseung confessed “I don’t remember seeing you at the parties I went to.”

He noticed how you gave a weak smile and looked up at the starry sky “It’s because I’ve only been to a few parties since I came to college.”

“Because of studies?” He asked and you nodded “That’s all I care about honestly.”

He gave an empathetic side smile “I know how it is… I can’t fail my grades.”

“You gotta be on top of the class, don’t you?” You teased him with your sarcastic tone and he rolled his eyes smiling “It’s not just that.”

“So, what’s the reason?” You turned and asked him, feeling curious, as he looked at you for a few brief seconds.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment as he didn't know what your stance would be towards his answer, but a part of him wanted to be honest.

“It’s because I need to keep my scholarship.” He confessed and looked at you hesitantly, expecting some kind of exaggerated reaction. Maybe a joke, disdain or humiliation, but he was surprised by your bright face.

“A scholarship?! Wow, that’s impressive!” You were surprised and your face showed it “I had no idea you were a scholarship holder, that’s amazing! Only the best students get a scholarship in our course.”

Heeseung was stunned by your reaction. Maybe he had misjudged you for expecting the worst, but your relationship wasn't the best, so he didn't know what to expect.

"I mean, it's not that impressive. I just worked my ass off to get this scholarship, so yeah... I need to keep it.” Heeseung scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He didn’t know how to react to being praised, especially a compliment coming from you. His rival.

For Heeseung, the feeling of receiving recognition from someone who doesn't like him very much is more real and impactful than anyone else. Especially because you have all the weapons to criticize him, so receiving a praise from you hits different.

“It’s just the truth.” You moved a little closer to Heeseung, adjusting your skirt, making him glance at your smooth thighs “You know, I just realized something.”

Heeseung’s eyes rose and met yours again “What?”

“I think this is the first time we’ve talked about something that doesn’t have to do with our project.” You laughed and he noticed the gloss you were wearing. Your lips were shining in a mesmerizing way.

“You’re right…” He smiled “I mean, you haven’t cursed at me yet, so I say it’s an improvement.”

“Huh?” You dramatically let out a breath of air and pointed at him. “Heeseung, drop the act. You’re the one who always provokes me and starts bickering.”

Without letting go of eye contact, he brought his face closer to yours and you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach “You’re not innocent either, you’re always teasing me.” He whispered, making you snort and look away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Heeseung laughed and you noticed how warm the sound of his laugh was “Yeah, let’s pretend you don’t know.”

You were surprised. He seemed different that night, as if he wasn't the Heeseung you knew. The rival you felt so much despise for.

Beneath that serene air he looked like just a normal college boy. And you liked that — but you wouldn’t admit it to him.

“I need a drink.” You suddenly commented and he looked at you “Me too.” Heeseung got up from the bench and stood in front of you “Let’s go inside, the party isn’t over yet.”

“I know and Gaeul must be worried about me.” You stood up sighing thinking about how you’ll have to find your best friend in the middle of the crowd.

“Ladies first.” Heeseung opened the kitchen door and made room for you to go in first.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and walked through the door with your arms crossed “Who would have thought… Lee Heeseung is such a gentleman.”

Heeseung smiled and whispered as you stood beside him “There are still many things about me that you don’t know.”

Heeseung's deep voice was like sweet poison that seemed to penetrate your skin with ease. You swallowed hard, feeling your body heat up slightly, and just walked in without saying anything.

Normally you hated losing any kind of argument with Heeseung, but tonight you would let it slide.

As the night unfolded and you entered the venue together again, Gaeul watched the interaction from afar with a satisfied smile on her face.

Heeseung and you together? Without fighting? You guys would definitely talk about it later.

☆

“Okay girl, spill.” Gaeul leaned against the doorway of your room as you changed the sheets on your bed “What the hell happened between you and Heeseung?”

“What do you mean?” You pretended not to understand her insinuation as you finished fluffing the pillows so you could lie down.

“You know what I'm talking about.” Gaeul came in and sat on your bed, looking at you with that look she only did when she wanted to tease you “I saw you and Heeseung interacting at the party.”

“And what about it?” Gaeul sighed at your stubbornness “I thanked him for helping me with a drunk idiot there who tried to hit on me.”

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Your best friend looked at you worriedly and you sat down next to her “It was nothing big. When you went to the bathroom a guy was completely wasted and tried to hit on me, but Heeseung helped me.”

Gaeul put her hands over her mouth in shock and her eyebrows furrowed “Babeee, I didn’t know! I’m sorry I left you alone, I never imagined something like this would happen.” She touched your hand and you smiled.

“It’s okay Gaeul, I’m fine.” You squeezed your best friend’s hand, and she smiled sweetly.

“Sooo, you were saying Heeseung saved you?” She looked at you with a teasing face and you laughed “He helped me, like a good human being, okay?”

“Girl, there’s no point in hiding it. I know something has changed between you two.” She seemed 100% convinced and you just rolled your eyes “You’re very creative Gaeul.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything different after he saved you.” She approached you, watching you ponder her question for a moment.

In fact, since that event and the brief conversation in the backyard, you started to see Heeseung in a different light. Not to mention how much more attractive he seemed.

“Okay, maybe he’s not that bad.” You confessed and Gaeul’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in shock.

“Oh. My. God. You totally like Lee Heeseung!!!!” Gaeul stood up excitedly and you made a face “And don’t try to deny it! Your eyes don’t lie! You’re falling for your rival!”

You chuckled and shook your head “Gaeul, I don’t like him, I just think he’s improved as a person… that’s all.”

Before leaving your room, she turned and looked at you with affection and a sweet smile on her lips “Okay, you can keep denying it. But just know that when you are ready to admit your feelings, I’ll be here for you.”

You sighed knowing that Gaeul wouldn't change her mind about this.

But you couldn't help but feel that strange feeling deep in your chest when you remembered how he had held your waist tightly and protected you. The way his eyebrows were furrowed showing the anger he was feeling against that idiot on your behalf. How protective he was at that moment…

His strong hands, along with the bright smile he gave you and how his dark hair seemed to fall perfectly over his forehead.

Okay, you can admit that Lee Heeseung is attractive, but that doesn't mean you like him.

Right?

Heeseung was walking down the halls while Jay was talking about some random basketball topic when he saw your beautiful figure from afar grabbing his attention. You were stunning, as always, but you looked different.

You were smiling as you watched something interesting a boy was showing you on his phone. He recognized the boy as Jungwon, the president of one of the clubs you were a part of. Heeseung couldn't help but feel awkward about the scene. You looked so comfortable and relaxed as you talked to the boy who was undeniably handsome and put together.

A wave of sour feelings flooded Heeseung's chest. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, trying not to make it too obvious how much he was staring at you. Heeseung, who had always had this chill aura, felt insanely bothered when he saw how excited the boy seemed while he was making you smile so easily.

It was nothing special. Even he could make you smile if he wanted to, there was nothing special about this guy.

“Hey man, are you listening?” Jay asked and Heeseung looked away trying to ignore the dissatisfaction bubbling inside him “Sorry, can you repeat?” He ran his hand through his hair and Jay sighed “Dude, if you’re going to be jealous of her, please be more discreet, you look like a creepy staring at her like that.” Heeseung dumbfounded stared at his friend “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m certainly not jealous.”

“Give me a break man, you were practically staring at the girl.” Jay gave a smirk and Heeseung kept walking trying to resist the urge to look back and see your smile one last time “I'm fine. Let's go.” Jay shook his head and continued walking alongside Heeseung who remained silent for the rest of the way.

He wasn't jealous, was he?

☆

Civil Law was fun until you had to do a detailed essay and slides on dispossession in your bedroom on a Wednesday night. It was already past 11pm and you were still halfway through the paper. Your presentation was due next week, and you were still going over the details of the requirements for reinstatement of possession.

Being a perfectionist was a characteristic of yours that hindered you more than it helped you most of the time. You wanted your work to be perfect and meticulous to the point of not leaving any room for questions. The problem was that this cost you precious nights that you could have been having fun and enjoying life like a young university student.

You were stretching your arms when you were surprised by the sound of your phone ringing on the table. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Heeseung's name on the screen. What was he doing? He had never called you before.

'Is this an emergency?' You instantly thought and worriedly answered the phone.

“Hello? Heeseung?” The hesitation in your voice was clear “Hm—” Heeseung’s deep voice and breathing suddenly startled you “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry for calling you so late.”

“It’s okay. Did something happen?” Your heart was suddenly racing, and you couldn’t explain why. His laughter on the other end warmed your ear “No silly, I wanted to talk about our project.” The way his voice sounded deeper over the phone made you swallow hard and cross your legs instinctively.

This was pathetic. How could you feel nervous about a phone conversation? And worst of all — with Heeseung?

“Oh, right.” You gave an awkward chuckle “What is it?” It was like you could feel his smile through his breathing on the phone call.

“I was just thinking… maybe it would be interesting to talk about criminal liability for crimes committed during the Second World War with the creation of the Nuremberg Tribunal.” Heeseung said in a calm and soft voice. As if he was flirting, but you knew that couldn’t be possible. He had no reason to flirt with you “Ah, you mean the International Military Tribunal?”

“Exactly.” Was his voice always this sexy? “I think it would be a good topic, and I know you like the criminal side of things, so it could be interesting for us to address this.” Your stomach turned as you realized that Heeseung had paid attention to what you had said weeks ago and thought of this idea based on your personal taste.

“I think that’s a great idea!” You gave him an excited smile as if he could see it “I think it would be wonderful to include this part.”

“Yeah.” He laughed in a way that made you feel like a little girl interacting with her crush “I’m glad you liked it, we can work on that at our next meeting.”

God, you were hating yourself mentally. How could you let yourself be affected and have impure thoughts while Heeseung was talking about the Nuremberg Tribunal?

“Sure!” Was all you could manage to say before he interrupted you “Speaking of which, are you free in the afternoon on Friday? We can start right away.”

“Wait, I’ll check my schedule.” He laughed at your answer and said playfully “Of course you have a schedule.” You usually can’t stand it when Heeseung answers you sarcastically, but this time it was different. It was like he was teasing you, but not with the intention of irritating you, but just joking with you. “I’m an organized person, of course I’ll schedule my appointments in advance.”

“Alright, Miss Organized. Are you free?” You could hardly believe that you were having a friendly conversation with Heeseung over the phone “Yes, we can schedule it at our usual time.”

“Great, it's a date then.” The way he said it was normal, you know that, but the butterflies that invaded your stomach made you feel like a loser. He wasn't asking you out on a date, it was just the work meeting you always had, but you couldn't stay calm like before.

“Uh– Heeseung can I ask you something?” You gathered the courage to continue the conversation “Sure. What is it?” He seemed curious and you bit your lower lip trying to get the courage to ask what was eating you up inside “Why did you call me? You could have texted me…”

Your anxiety reached its peak when he was silent for about 5 seconds and all you could hear was his breathing “I guess I just wanted to talk to you directly about the subject.” He broke the silence and you let out an ironic chuckle “Woah?! I never thought I would hear those words from Lee Heeseung.” Unbeknownst to you on the other end of the line Heeseung had slightly pink cheeks while he had his hand over his eyes “Seriously, this topic is quite detailed so I wanted to get my point across as easily as possible, and over text it would be a hassle.”

“And why didn’t you Facetimed me?” You argued as you jumped onto your fluffy bed “I can’t.” He replied seriously and you hugged your pillow “Why not?”

Heeseung stopped for a second and laughed through his nose, which you could hear through the phone “Because I’m already in bed and I’m shirtless.” You froze, feeling your cheeks heat up at what he said and blamed yourself for imagining him shirtless calling you in the middle of the night “So… it would be a little complicated for me to have to get up, put on a shirt and turn on the lights just to say that.”

“I see… that makes sense.” You swallowed, feeling like an idiot for not knowing how to react with this bombastic information. Shirtless Lee Heeseung calling you at night is something you never expected to happen to you.

'I hope he doesn't think I'm weird.'

“And you? What are you doing up so late?” He asked and you laughed seeing how you needed to turn off your laptop and organize your materials “I was doing my civil law essay.”

“Yeah, this essay is really tiring. It took me a long time to research my topic, but you’ll finish it soon.” He said with that usual confidence with absolute certainty that you would kill the subject “Well, unfortunately I had the misfortune of getting the subject of dispossession, so it's more complicated than it seems.”

“Damn, dispossession is full of details.” He sighed, feeling his eyes grow heavy “My topic is about inheritance law. Heirs and shit like that.” You laughed, noticing how his voice was getting slightly choked with sleep “Are you sleepy?”

“Hmhum.” He nodded even though he knew you wouldn’t see it “I’m tired, I had a lot of work today.” Your legs were swinging in the air as you listened to Heeseung “Well then, I guess it’s time for you to sleep.”

He laughed and agreed “Yeah, you're right. Good night, Y/N.” His sleepy voice tickled your ear and you smirked “Good night, Heeseung.”

With one click he hung up the call and you buried your face in the pillow, giving a liberating scream after the unexpected call.

'Damn it, Lee Heeseung, what did you do to me?'

☆

Despite your good mood, this civil law essay was taking up a lot of your free time and it was tiring you out. You had been reviewing your paper and making slides for your presentation for 3 hours straight.

The civil law professor was known to be strict and detail-oriented, so you wanted everything to be perfect. As you were finishing your slides to clear your mind, your phone vibrated and you felt your body freeze when you saw that Heeseung had sent you a message.

[Lee Heeseung] — Hey

[Lee Heeseung] — Are you busy?

16:47 pm

Your heart jumped into your throat and with slightly trembling hands you picked up your phone and quickly thought about what to say.

[You] — Kinda.

[You] — Finishing the slides for my Civil Law presentation.

16:48 pm

While you were trying to calm down, Heeseung was already answering you at the speed of light.

[Lee Heeseung] — Oh.

[Lee Heeseung] — Want some help?

16:48 pm

The smile that appeared on your face was automatic. How could such a simple message affect you so much?

[You] — Really?

[You] — I mean, it would be nice if it doesn't bother you though

16:49 pm

[Lee Heeseung] — Yeah, it doesn't bother me.

[Lee Heeseung] — Where are you now?

16:49 pm

You took a deep breath, feeling your stomach churn at the excited feelings that were rising from the tone of his messages.

[You] — I'm at the library rn

16:49 pm

[Lee Heeseung] — Alright

[Lee Heeseung] — I'll be there in a few

16:50 pm

[You] — Okay

16:50 pm

Your hands went straight to the front camera of your phone to see how you looked. You started to despair because you hadn't done a more elaborate makeup that afternoon, but you didn't expect to see Heeseung.

Luckily, you had some blush and a reddish gloss in your bag. You touched up your makeup and checked your teeth for any signs of something between them but smiled in relief when you saw that they were perfect.

You adjusted your posture, your blouse, and ran your hand through the strands of your hair to comb them carefully. After feeling that you were minimally tidy, you tried to focus on your slides before Heeseung arrived.

Within 10 minutes Heeseung was already walking past the library door looking for you. When he found you, your eyes met in a second and he smiled. Your anxiety increased considerably as you watched Heeseung walk towards you. With each step he took, you were afraid that your face would show how anxious you were.

It was insane how Lee Heeseung could look so hot wearing a simple black shirt and dark jeans.

“Hey.” He pulled out the chair next to you and sat down while keeping his gaze on yours “It's been a while.”

“Yeah…” You let out the air you were holding “I've been busy with this essay and presentation.”

“I see.” he smiled and leaned forward "What do you need? I'm here to help you."

You hated yourself for not being able to look at Heeseung for so long, so you looked away to your laptop screen.

“I just need to review a few points.” You showed the summary of what you were going to present and the main points “Everything is ready, so I’m editing the slides now because I feel like I need to improve the design of them.”

Heeseung had spent so long without hearing your voice that he was almost grateful to hear you talk so much, even if it was about a stupid presentation.

“If you want, I can show you what I do on my slides.” He moved his chair closer to yours and looked at you. “Okay.” You nodded and made him comfortable so he could do whatever he wanted.

Heeseung placed his left arm behind your chair and brought his face closer to yours coincidentally as he pulled his laptop closer to him.

You felt your heart race when you smelled Heeseung's perfume. That mixed scent of chamomile shampoo married perfectly with his woody scent. It was a soft, punctual and addictive blend. A perfect masculine scent that caught your attention.

“Do you still use PowerPoint?” He mockingly smiled and you raised an eyebrow at him “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, but I personally think it’s hard to work with.” he opened a website in his browser “Try this site, it has easy designs for quick slides.”

“Okay.” You were trying to focus on what he was saying, but his face was distracting you.

His forehead was more exposed than before. His hair was parted in the middle so you could see how perfectly defined his eyebrows were.

How had you not noticed before how handsome he was?

“Look… you can put these dots in a different font so that they are more readable and don’t clutter the view of the slide.” he leaned in closer and spoke close to your ear, making you swallow hard “See?”

“Yes.” You replied, trying to ignore how much Heeseung’s velvety voice tickled your ear.

“Your slides are excellent, they just need some polishing.” Heeseung’s voice was gentle and he seemed focused on the task at hand. A warm feeling filled your heart at the brief compliment he gave you.

“I just want to get this over with.” You sighed “I’m tired and I want to sleep.” Heeseung chuckled and looked at you “You’ll be fine.” Your gaze met his and his eyes gently fixed on your mouth.

Crazy thoughts ran through his mind as he roamed his gaze over your mouth and eyes.

“Thank you for helping me.” You whispered and Heeseung smirked “Of course. I'm your partner after all.”

He looked away from your laptop screen, trying to control himself. You both were in a public space, but he was there to help you, so he would control himself for now.

“What else do you need?” He asked looking at the rest of his slides “I'm all yours today.”

You bit your lips trying not to smile too much at the way he said it.

“We can move forward with our project after I finish my slides.” You suggested and he glanced at you with an amused face “If you have time, of course.”

“Sure.” he smiled and scratched the back of his neck “I have all the time in the world.”

You smiled and decided that it would be perfect to work in something with Heeseung on that peaceful afternoon.

And suddenly you realized that Heeseung's presence had become comfortable to you.

☆

The day was cloudy, with an atmosphere that made you feel lazy and do not want to study at all. However, contrary to the statistics, you were dressed up with your hair brushed, a light pink button-up blouse, a gray ruffled skirt and lots of perfume.

You knew you were dressing up more than usual for a simple work date with Heeseung, but you couldn't help it.

It was as if your body moved on its own when it came to seeing Heeseung.

Without you realizing it, your personal opinion of him gradually changed. Lee Heeseung was extremely complex. At first, he seemed like a jerk who did everything he could to irritate you, but suddenly he showed a different side with his actions. He could actually be an interesting and nice guy when he talked to you like a normal human being and didn't argue for no reason.

He was smart too. Not that you didn't know that before, but the way he was punctual, organized and focused on what he wanted was your type. You couldn't stand people who didn't keep their commitments, and surprisingly Heeseung never missed a meeting you made — to the point of him going to one of your meetings even when he was sick.

It was impossible to ignore the signs that yes, Lee Heeseung could be a nice guy, but that you couldn't see it because you couldn't stand each other for some inexplicable reason.

However, you knew it wasn’t totally your fault for your previously bad relationship. You started to feel a bit resentful ever since he started picking on you. Your theory was that maybe he felt threatened by your academic performance, or maybe there was something more to it. After all, he was now keen to work well with you and didn't care if you also got top marks.

Maybe you misjudged him, or you spent too much time not liking each other for such superficial reasons that you didn't give yourself a chance to get to know each other better.

In any case, you had already come to the conclusion that despite your differences, you had finally managed to understand each other — to the point where you began to feel an undeniable and overwhelming attraction to him.

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror you felt slightly embarrassed. Deep down, it was embarrassing to admit that you were feeling so shaken by Heeseung, the guy you swore you couldn't stand, but so many things had happened that you couldn't deny your forbidden feelings.

And you had already decided that this would stay in your mind and that was fine. It was okay to feel a slight attraction to a man, even if that man was Lee Heeseung.

The difficult part was not showing what you felt when he seemed to be staring at you so deeply whenever you were together. Or when he smiled in a way that made your legs feel weak.

You grabbed your things and left the apartment, trying to distract your mind from those deep thoughts. Today would be a good day, especially since your work was progressing nicely and it was one less thing to worry about.

On your way to the library you decided to buy some juice from a vending machine and came across Heeseung in front of the machine. Suddenly you felt a strange chill in your stomach and tried to give a soft smile to him — one that didn't look forced.

Heeseung turned around and saw you approaching. He looked up and down before giving a smirk that warmed your body. “Hey, came to buy a drink too?” Heeseung kept looking at you intently as he grabbed his soda.

“Yeah, I think we had the same idea.” You awkwardly laughed as he pulled away slightly, grabbing a juice as well “You can't kick your soda addiction, huh?”

“You know caffeine is a must before studying.” He laughingly replied as he opened the can and handed you the orange juice you liked the most “For you.”

Automatically your eyes opened in surprise and you felt your heart warm at Heeseung's sudden action. “What?! Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I can buy some juice for my project partner.” You took the juice feeling your cheeks warm by his action “Thank you…” you replied giving a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.

“So, are you done with your civil law essay?” he asked, leading the way to the library. His company was no longer strange, and you had to admit that you were really enjoying talking and spending time with him.

“Yeah, but I struggled to finish it all. I was tired of reading about property invasion.” Heeseung laughed and took a sip of his soda “I know how it is. I’ve read so many cases about wills that I don’t want to hear about it any time soon.”

As Heeseung told you about an interesting story he had seen on social media, you analyzed his profile. The way he smiled without realizing it when he told you something he was interested in made you lose focus on the subject.

The way his lips moved was as if they were inviting you. They looked silky, soft and shiny. You barely realized you were staring when he turned slightly to look at you and smiled, waiting for you to answer what he asked. “Sorry, what did you say?” he sighed and smiled ironically “You weren’t listening to me, were you?” You felt your face burn with embarrassment “Sorry, I got distracted for a moment.”

“Damn, what’s so important that made you distracted like that?” He teased you and you gave him an awkward smile.

'Your lips'

“Nothing much, just worried about some things.” Heeseung narrowed his eyes, analyzing you. He knew it was nothing like that, but he wasn’t going to pressure you to talk.

“Okay…” He took one last sip of his soda before throwing it in the trash. From afar, the library door was wide open, revealing that on that afternoon, the flow of students was way bigger than on other days.

When you finally entered the library and found the place completely packed, you felt defeated. There were practically no free tables for you to work at.

“What the hell? Why is the library so crowded?” You whispered and Heeseung scratched the back of his neck “I have no idea, maybe it’s because of upcoming exams?”

You tried to think about something, but nothing came to mind. “Well, I think it’s going to be impossible for us to do our work here.” You said seeing how there was no free space and Heeseung sighed trying to think of a solution.

“What are we going to do now?” You asked, turning to Heeseung, waiting for some suggestion.

Suddenly an idea popped into Heeseung's mind, but it was a dangerous idea and he didn't know if you would accept it.

You bit your lower lip, feeling anxiety hit you with the thoughts that were coming into your mind as you saw how deeply he seemed to be thinking. “I have an idea.” You noticed his cautious tone, as if he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“What is it?” He turned to face you fully and you noticed how tall he was. Your insides were churning as he tightened his grip on the strap of his black backpack. There were plenty of places near college that you could go to study, but it might be more difficult and complicated.

“We can go to a nearby cafe, or somewhere else that’s quiet, like my room.” You felt the air catch in your throat and he pursed his lips without taking his eyes off your figure “You can choose whatever’s most comfortable for you.”

You bit your lower lip quickly thinking about his suggestion “But we can go somewhere else if you want.” He reinforced the other option, feeling embarrassed by the sudden suggestion he made.

“No, it’s fine.” You replied almost instantly as you ran your hand through your hair “If your room is quiet and has enough space, then it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, so he decided to ask again to confirm “Yeah… the most important thing right now is going to a quiet place to work.”

“Alright, I’ll show you the way.”

You and Heeseung always spent time together, so being alone in his room wouldn't be a big deal.

That's what you were trying to convince yourselves.

☆

There is nothing as unexpected as feelings. This is a fact that Heeseung knows. He understands that human beings are endowed with emotions, thoughts and decisions. Yes, human beings are complex by nature and it is possible for them to evolve and change their thoughts and beliefs over time.

But even knowing all this, he couldn't understand why you were messing with him so much.

He had already rationally decided that he would not get too involved with you. You would do this project and each of you would go on with your lives as normal. However, lately Heeseung realized that his rationality wasn't connected to the things he felt whenever he saw you.

Suddenly he started to feel strange butterflies in his stomach when you smiled at him. The way you spoke was no longer so annoying and he started to find some of your jokes funny.

And the most worrying part was that he no longer felt stressed at the thought of working with you. A part of him was already used to your presence and not only that — he felt excited at the idea of seeing you.

You who didn't used to talk much before, now are sending articles, posts and messages about work and things related to law. Including funny and random things. Someone from outside would say that you seem like friends. Talking, laughing and being seen walking down the hallway together when you meet from time to time.

He knew he no longer felt the same anger as before, but he didn't understand what kind of relationship you had. You weren't really friends, but there was clearly an inexplicable chemistry between you, a kind of invisible tension that was created whenever your eyes met for a few seconds.

It was obvious that you had changed with him. In Heeseung's old vision, you were rude, inconvenient, and completely annoying.

Now you're nice, kind, and helpful whenever he asks you anything. But what scares Heeseung the most is the undeniable attraction he's feeling for you. He's always considered himself a man of values and respect, but his eyes can't help but wander to the curve of your neck when your hair is loosely tied back.

It was impossible not to notice your torso being hugged perfectly by your pink long-sleeved blouse, the smell of your sweet perfume and your shiny mouth; and ever since the party he couldn't stop thinking about your waist and how it felt between his fingers.

It was becoming mental torture to see your mouth almost every day and think about how soft it must be but not being able to do anything about it. It was scary how he seemed to not think straight when it came to you, but what was even scarier was that you agreed to go study in his room.

Even though he was the one who had suggested studying in his room, the fact that you accepted was surprisingly exciting. Yes, you would study as usual, but this time you would be at his desk and in his environment. It was inevitable not to feel nervous about the situation.

He tried to talk about anything random on the way and you even laughed a few times, but both of you were clearly tense. Maybe you just needed to start studying and this would pass.

Heeseung stopped at the door of his dorm, opening it slightly, feeling aware of your presence there. He entered first and took off his shoes, making room for you to pass. “Come in.”

You smiled and left your shoes at the door, feeling slightly shy as you entered his place “Thank you.”

The place was simple, tidy, and decorated differently than you’d expect. Even though he has an eccentric personality, there wasn’t much decor. Heeseung and his roommate were surprisingly minimalists, except for a few pizza boxes on the kitchen counter that Heeseung picked up to throw in the trash. “Don’t mind the mess, Jake and I had pizza yesterday and we passed out after we ate it.”

You chuckled looking at your surroundings “It’s okay, everyone has those days.”

He gave you a side smile, guiding you to the door of his room. Surprisingly, the dorm was bigger than you expected, seeing as he still managed to have a room just for himself.

“This is my room.” He walked into his room, making space for you to observe everything while he grabbed another chair so you could sit at his table.

“It’s really cool.” You felt like you were entering a forbidden and very exclusive place. You never imagined that you would get the chance to see Lee Heeseung’s room. The decor was peculiar, with a framed basketball player’s jersey on the wall and minimalist posters about sports and music.

Interestingly, he liked rock music. You noticed after seeing that he had a few music CDs together on the table, giving it a sophisticated and personal air. You smiled when you saw that there was a photo of him as a child with his parents on the nightstand next to his bed.

But surprisingly, what shocked you the most was seeing the amount of books he had in the place. Yes, Lee Heeseung really liked reading, and especially doctrines of law from the library.

Obviously, he worked hard to be one of the best on the course along with you, but seeing this reality up close was even more impressive.

His bed was tidy, but the books scattered on top of it gave the final touch to what truly meant to be in Heeseung's environment.

“You have a lot of books.” You commented when you saw Heeseung placing the other chair next to his at the table and he mischievously smiled “Of course I do. I want to be an attorney, so I need to read a lot.”

“Attorney?” You raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s cool if you want to follow that path… You’d probably enjoy talking to my dad.” You spoke softly at the last part, but Heeseung heard it anyway.

He noticed that the way you spoke insinuated that you didn't want to follow that path and curiously, as if your father was a distant figure for you.

“Don’t you want to be an attorney?” Heeseung asked you, seeing you going towards his desk and sitting down with a serious expression. “To be honest, I don't know… it’s not my dream.”

He sat down next to you and came closer, trying to make you comfortable. “Do you have an idea of what you want to do?”

“Maybe a prosecutor?” You confessed and smiled shyly. It was the first time you had talked about this dream with anyone other than Gaeul. “It’s still a distant idea, I guess I’ll become an attorney first. That’s what everyone expects of me anyway.”

“Everyone?” He asked gently. “It’s complicated.” You sighed and he realized it was still a sensitive subject that you might not want to explain, and he wasn’t going to pressure you into doing so. He also had things to deal with that he didn’t open up about easily.

“Well, regardless of what you choose, I know you’ll do well.” He commented as he placed his notebooks and laptop on the table. “You’re the only one who’s managed to beat me sometimes, and I know very well that not just anyone can defeat me easily.”

You gave Heeseung a smile, realizing he was trying to cheer you up in his own way. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He smiled and watched you placing your materials on the table, noticing the post-it notes with legal concepts on the wall in front of the table.

“Your room is… interesting.” You commented as you analyzed all the mnemonics and tips he had written on a post-it that was almost falling on the table. “Are you trying to start a fight?” Heeseung looked at you suspiciously and you laughed.

“No, I just think this room suits you.” You grinned “It’s cute.”

“Are you calling me cute?” Heeseung smirked, bringing his face closer to yours. “I’m talking about the room.” You replied, swallowing hard, opening your laptop.

“Well, that's a pity then.” You felt your cheeks burn and your body fizz at the suggestive tone of his comment.

Maybe you were seeing things, but it looked a lot like Lee Heeseung was flirting with you right now.

“So, before we start,” He continued to look at you while you tried to pretend that you weren’t feeling weak with his presence so close “I’m going to the kitchen to drink some water. Do you want something to drink?” He asked and you shook your head “No, I’ll drink the juice you gave me later.”

He gave a little smile of pride seeing that you actually accepted the juice he bought for you.

“Alright then, I’ll be right back.” Heeseung nodded and stood up as you tried to calm down.

'It's okay, he was just teasing me. I just need to calm down and focus on my studies.' You thought as you tried to convince yourself that the tension in the air was just some kind of illusion and not the harsh reality.

☆

Heeseung was in the kitchen getting a glass of water trying to understand the situation he was in. You were there, in his room, with your beauty shining like the morning breeze.

It felt like a dream. At first he didn't even know how to explain why he suggested it, but his intrusive thoughts were faster, shockingly you had accepted. In a way, you were there to study like you always do in the library, but this time he was feeling strange.

He wanted something to happen and this wasn’t good.

Because it meant that Heeseung had finally accepted his feelings of attraction towards you and was considering doing something about it.

He took a deep breath and decided to control himself for the sake of your project. However, as much as he tried to focus on his studies, the moment he walked past his bedroom door and saw you sitting cross-legged, your hair loose showing your neck, and the way you were biting the tip of your pen while focused on your laptop screen, all his common sense went straight out the window.

“So, can we start?” Heeseung asked, swallowing hard and scratching the back of his neck, feeling nervous. “Sure, where do you want to start?” You asked, looking at him with the sexiest eyes he swore he had ever seen in his life. “We can read the article you suggested.”

“Alright.” He smiled seeing how excited you seemed about the project. “By the way, I saw your CDs and posters.” You changed the subject as he opened the file on his computer “You’re quite… eclectic.” He chuckled and turned to you “Why? Did you think I only listened to one type of music?”

You shook your head and gave him a side smile. “I thought you were more into the classics.”

“I like a little bit of everything, you know? I can appreciate different types of art.” He noticed the way your skirt seemed to have ridden up the moment you adjusted yourself in your chair.

“I’m surprised.” He looked away, trying to control his thoughts. But it was hard when you looked like a goddess next to him. “Every day I discover something new about you.”

“Well, I told you that there are a lot of things about me that you don’t know.” He replied as he locked gazes with you. Heeseung definitely had a unique charm.

“Fair enough.” You replied and he gave you that smile that made your legs lose strength. “I think I made too many assumptions about you.” You confessed, leaning against the table and he brought his face closer to yours “Yeah? Maybe you should get to know me better then.”

You felt your body catch fire at the way he whispered an octave lower than normal and smirked “Yeah, maybe I should.”

Heeseung felt his face and ears heat up at the way you were looking at him.

He knew something had changed between you and the tension was so intense you could cut it with a knife.

His eyes dropped to your exposed neck. Your sweet scent was intoxicating the air and the necklace you were wearing was shinier than usual. It adorned your collarbone magnificently.

Did you have to look this good for a measly study date?

He didn't know if he could cross that invisible line between you, so he slowly approached you, lowering his gaze to your mouth. Since he was sitting on your left side, his right hand went up to your face and tucked a single strand of your hair behind your ear.

You felt a shiver run through your body as his fingertips lightly touched your ear.

His face moved closer to yours agonizingly slowly, and you felt his sweet minty breath fan your face.

Heeseung instinctively wet his lower lip with his tongue and you felt your breath catch as he lowered his right hand to the corner of your neck, touching you gently.

Your eyes locked into Heeseung's intense, dark eyes, and you felt your body fizz at the way he was staring at you. It was intense, serious, deep, as if he wanted to convey a message that only you would understand. You didn't need to say anything. The way you looked at each other was the answer to the unspoken question that floated implicitly in the air.

The desire you both feel is mutual.

He moved closer and pulled your neck towards him, pressing the spot with his long fingers. You closed your eyes when you felt his mouth brush against yours as if he was testing your reactions.

Heeseung kissed you, gently pressing his lips against yours, sending a dose of pleasure through your body. He gave you a long peck and quickly pulled away to make sure that this was really happening.

He was kissing you. This is real.

He smiled over your lips and kissed you again, with more intensity, making you pull him by the collar. Heeseung's left hand landed on your left thigh, squeezing the skin there and you felt your stomach churn.

Heeseung bit your lower lip and you moaned, making him feel a wave of pride invade his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck, while your hands went straight to his soft hair.

All you wanted to feel was the soft strands of his gorgeous hair between your fingers and you finally knew what that felt like. Heeseung groaned into your mouth as you pulled his hair and scratched the back of his neck with your nails.

Heeseung felt like he had ascended to heaven as he felt your soft lips moving over his. You were like water on a dry day that he couldn't get enough of.

Not even his deepest thoughts could recreate the exultant feeling he felt when he finally kissed you. He was thirsty and wanted more. As much as he tried to hold it in, his deep desire was stronger and he happily gave in to its sweet taste.

You separated for a brief second to catch your breath and he licked your lower lip making you open your mouth slightly sighing as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

The kiss that started soft was now intense, passionate and more desperate. You ran your hands down Heeseung's neck until they stopped on his chest. Heeseung intertwined his right hand in your hair while his left rested on your lower back.

Heeseung kissed you intensely, as if he couldn't stop. You lost track of time as you let yourself be numbed by the feeling of Heeseung's tongue exploring your mouth.

He sucked on your bottom lip before attacking your neck with longing open-mouthed kisses. “You're so beautiful.” He whispered against the skin of your neck as he brushed it with his lips making you press your thighs together and sigh in pleasure “So fucking beautiful.”

You held onto Heeseung’s hair and his left shoulder as he got closer “Heeseung.” You whispered but were interrupted by his mouth kissing the column of your neck with desire.

“You drive me crazy.” He whispered in your ear making you roll your eyes back and moan embarrassingly. Heeseung felt his pants tighten at the reactions and sounds you made.

His left hand went to the buttons of your pink blouse with slight desperation. He was panting and you were spaced out with so many things happening at the same time.

You knew you wanted Heeseung, but you didn't know it would be this intense.

“Fuck” He trailed kisses from your throat to your collarbone, allowing the scent of your perfume to sweetly intoxicate his senses “It’s hard to contain myself when you’re like this.” He whispered over your mouth, kissing you again.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your heart was racing, your breathing was short, and even though you were sitting down, you felt all the strength in your legs evaporate.

His hands went to your thighs, smoothing them up under your skirt. You reached out to take off the denim jacket he was wearing and he smirked over your mouth.

"So eager, huh?” he teased you and you sighed, frowning “Look who's talking.” You whispered wryly trying not to be embarrassed at how breathless and needy you sounded.

“Thought you liked it when I teased you, babe.” Heeseung’s sensual tone as he took off his coat made you lose the last of your breath. His shoulders looked even bigger up close.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You whispered and pulled Heeseung by the collar of his shirt, making him give you several kisses and smile on your lips “So bossy…”

The way Heeseung's mouth seemed to fit perfectly into yours was impressive.

Heeseung's hands went under your shirt, squeezing the bare skin of your waist, giving you goosebumps and making you moan into Heeseung's mouth.

He was relentless. Heeseung's mouth devoured you with fervor and desperation, leaving you breathless. You held onto the hem of Heeseung's shirt as he pulled away slightly, turning his head for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, feeling your entire body tremble.

“Wait.” Heeseung reluctantly moved away a little more, hearing noises from outside “Do you hear that?” He turned to the door and you breathlessly tried to focus on what he was saying.

Until you noticed – the sound of keys moving near the principal door latch. You adjusted your skirt down and buttoned the first few buttons of your blouse that Heeseung had unbuttoned.

Suddenly you were paralyzed and stared at each other when you heard the key opening the main door in the room.

“Man, I'm dead, I want to sleep the rest of the afternoon.” Jake spoke loudly and you and Heeseung quickly separated from each other as he tried to fix his hair and appear as natural as possible.

You adjusted your seats as if you were studying your computer screen intently.

“Heeseung, are you there?” Jake knocked on his friend’s bedroom door and opened it at once “I need to tell you what happened to me at the coffee shop—” Jake’s eyes widened and he froze when he saw that you were in Heeseung’s room.

Heeseung glared at him with a menacing look. That look that implicitly said 'get the hell out of here'.

“I’m kind of busy right now, Jake.” He said through gritted teeth and his friend gave an awkward smile and scratched his head “Oh sorry to disturb you guys. I didn’t know you were studying … but it’s good to see you y/n.” He greeted you and you nodded politely “Hi.” Your voice came out soft and thin with fright.

“Well then, we’ll talk later.” Jake said to Heeseung with a teasing look making Heeseung want to kill him at that moment.

He closed the door to Heeseung's room and you were left in absolute, awkward silence.

Your heart was racing and your breath was still coming in short gasps. What the hell had happened?

“Sorry, I forgot Jake could come back earlier today.” Heeseung sighed as he ran his hand over his face, trying not to feel embarrassed by the awkward situation you both found yourselves in.

“It’s okay.” You gave a small laugh through your nose “We can try studying now… if you want.” Heeseung looked at you and mischievously smiled “Honestly, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to study right now.” He confessed looking into your eyes, hitting you like an electrifying lightning bolt.

You nodded and smiled, feeling your insides stir at Heeseung’s gentle tone “Yeah, me too.”

So, in silent agreement, you decided to organize the table and put away the materials. Even though the tension was still there, Jake cut the mood, so all that was left was the weird tension and the end of this unsuccessful study session.

After you packed your things, Heeseung walked you to the door and looked at you apologetically “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled and felt embarrassed remembering what happened moments before trying to calm your heart.

“Okay.” He leaned against the side of the door, crossing his arms and smiling at you “We’ll schedule the next meeting later.” He whispered as he tried to contain a smile with his teeth biting his own lip.

You nodded and slowly turned around “Bye, Heeseung.” He gave you that shy smile that only he knew how to do “Bye, y/n.”

After he closed the door and you walked out into the hallway, all you could think about was what had happened that afternoon.

You kissed. No, you had made out intensely and passionately, but the scariest thing is to think of what would have happened if Jake hadn't interrupted you.

And the worst part is that you wanted more.

Heeseung was still awake, staring at his ceiling as he remembered what had happened that afternoon.

After you left, Jake tried to talk to Heeseung but he went off to clear his head — which clearly didn't work out very well. Even though he tried to occupy himself and do other things he was still numb to the feeling of your mouth on his.

Heeseung couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, you appeared in his mind. He couldn't forget the feel of your soft skin under his fingers, your bright, pleading eyes, and how soft your mouth was.

He ran his hand over his face trying to control himself, but he couldn't help but feel hot when he remembered your kiss. He had taken the risk of kissing you, but he didn't expect your response to be as intense as his.

Heeseung couldn't pinpoint when everything changed, because 3 months ago he couldn't stand you, but now he couldn't wait to see you.

He picked up his phone and saw that it was almost 1 am and he couldn't get you out of his head. Your scent was tattooed on his mind and he knew he wanted to smell it again.

Heeseung wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you again.

But a doubt hovered over his mind: what about you? What did you want? Do you regret it? Or did you also like it and want more?

Heeseung knew there was no way to guess that now, but he would do whatever it took to find out.

☆

It's been 3 days since you and Heeseung were in complete silence.

After what had happened in his room, you were still in shock. But the fact that you and he didn't talk anymore was worrying and it irritated you.

You guys made out in his room and he couldn't send you at least a good morning text? Or anything else? How would you communicate and behave when you had to meet for your project after this?

Deep down, you didn’t know whether you regretted it or not. You don’t want to mess up your – finally – good relationship, but at the same time, you want to kiss him again. You don't know how this will impact the two of you, but you know you don't want to get ghosted by Heeseung or get weird by it.

Like a mature adult, you tried to occupy your mind with your civil law presentation, but the worst part was that nothing could get the vision of Heeseung out of your head. The words he whispered and how he kissed you like he’s been longing for it for a long time… it was too much.

The day of the presentation had already arrived, and even though you were confident in your knowledge, you were afraid to see Heeseung again.

You don't know how to behave or what to say when you see him. You could barely translate the things you were feeling at that moment when he intensively kissed you. In the end, all you knew was that even though you were irritated, you could barely see him without feeling your stomach twist and your body heat up.

On the other hand, for the first time in his life, Heeseung was excited to see your performance.

You were already at the front of the class with your slides turned on and waiting for the professor to give the go-ahead for you to start presenting.

Heeseung was sitting a little further forward so he wouldn't miss any details. His gaze met your and he gave a smile that made your insides melt.

It was different to feel that this time Heeseung's presence made you more nervous than usual.

When you started your presentation, everyone stopped and hung on every word.

Mainly Heeseung.

It was curious how you didn't look nervous while you clicked on the slides to explain your topic. Your confidence exudes how much you had prepared for the presentation, making him admire you even more. He eyed you attentively, not wanting to miss any of your moves. Your hands weren't shaking, and the way you presented yourself was so delicate and so fierce at the same time. He smirked watching how you pointed to the topics on the slide.

You really used his idea for your slides.

'Such pretty hands.' He thought about how it would feel them touching his face, his skin, him. The horde of forbidden thoughts filling his mind.

He swore he was really paying attention to what you were saying, but he got distracted so easily that even he couldn't explain why.

Suddenly he realized that he was thinking about things that definitely had nothing to do with possessory dispossession but had to do with what it must be like to see you on top of him while his hands roamed over your body.

His thoughts were interrupted when you finished your presentation perfectly making the sound of claps fill the room.

Once again you had outdone yourself in a presentation, but this time Heeseung wasn't analyzing the way you explained or trying to see if you would make mistakes in your diction. Now he could only think about how admirable your effort was.

Especially how he wanted you so bad.

However, when class ended, you had disappeared without giving him a chance to talk to you, leaving Heeseung even more anxious. What did he have to do to finally be able to talk to you again?

The ballroom was adorned with bright lights and chandeliers with sparkling stones that could blind you if you stare at them for too long. The buffet tables were extravagant (as always) and contained every type of food you could imagine. Seafood, pasta, and a variety of drinks. The exaggerated extravagance mixed with the forced, discreet laughter was a known sound that made your ears itch.

People were dressed in all the elegance that the event required, and everyone seemed polite and well-behaved. However, even from a distance you could capture several fake smiles, carefully placed on the faces of poor university students who were trying to survive in this environment by flattering more well-known and experienced attorneys in search of a possible internship or job at a renowned firm.

The P&J Foundation event was one of the only ones open to university students and law school graduates looking to meet future work partners or new opportunities in the job market.

And of course you would be there, “enjoying” the extravagant decorations, the lectures and the valuable advice from several experienced professionals — that’s the main reason why people go there anyway. But one of the biggest reasons was that your father was one of the sponsors, so missing out was not an option.

Even though it was a beneficial event for several college students, you felt slightly uncomfortable due to the judging looks people gave you when they saw you standing there drinking whatever was on the table without talking to anyone.

You were silent, observing the environment. Since you arrived, you had only greeted a few attorneys who approached to ask about your father, and not about you. It was as if you weren't even an option, but just the daughter of the great attorney Park.

In a way, it was comforting to know that the event wouldn't last long and maybe someone you knew would show up to relieve your boredom.

Someone like Heeseung.

“You look lonely.” Heeseung’s unmistakable voice behind you stole your attention, making you turn around at once “Maybe you need some company?”

Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened at the sight of Heeseung in a black suit and parted hair in front of you.

Your eyes shamelessly roamed over Heeseung's entire body seeing how the suit was intricately molded to his torso and waist. The black dress shirt he was wearing underneath was plain and was slightly open to reveal a bit of Heeseung's collarbone and his thin silver necklace.

“Oh, it’s you.” You swallowed hard and kept your face straight, nonchalant at seeing him. After 3 days of not talking to you, this is how he shows up?

He had his hands in his pants pockets and approached you with that smirk that drove you crazy “You look beautiful.” He took your hand and gave it a soft kiss on your knuckles while piercing through you with his intense eyes.

You felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach and a shiver ran down your spine seeing Heeseung's delicacy. Even if you wanted to be angry at him, it would be difficult to remain that way when he acted like this, it’s like he knew exactly what to do to disarm you.

“Thank you.” Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t move away from your figure, making your neck heat up.

“Your suit looks good.” You spoke sincerely and Heeseung chuckled “Just my suit?” He whispered, bringing his face closer to yours and firmly held your waist making you look away.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” Your cheeks were burning and your lips puckered in a cute pout that Heeseung found adorable even if you were speaking in a harsh way.

“Can we talk?” You felt weak at his gentle tone combined with the way he sweetly stared at you “Talk about what?” He chuckled through his nose and tilted his head so he could whisper in your ear “Stop pretending like you don't know.” The way his warm breath tickled your ear made you dizzy.

“Fine.” You sighed and crossed your arms trying to maintain your posture “Let's go somewhere.” You weren't going to talk about this in front of everyone, so you decided to lead the way to some secluded place where you would have the privacy you needed while you struggled to organize your thoughts. What was he going to talk to you about? The kiss? What did it really mean?

Your anxiety was already at its peak, but you felt a sense of deja vu when he placed his hand behind your back as you walked down the hall.

“So, are you enjoying the event?” He asked in a whisper and you snickered “’Enjoying’ is a strong word...” Your sigh made Heeseung raise an eyebrow “It’s boring.”

“I thought these parties were your thing.” He confessed and you mockingly glanced at him “I’m just used to them, but they’re usually a drag.”

“Yeah, it must be hard growing up going to rich people’s parties and eating the best of the best.” He said ironically and you pushed him lightly, giving him a sour smile “It’s not that fun when you have to flatter others so they don’t talk bad about you or your father.”

Your confession made him stare at you for a moment and go silent. Heeseung knew that you were a layered person and that in the past he had a lot of bad impressions of you, so maybe he needed to admit that he was wrong and try to see things from your point of view.

Suddenly you left the main hall and managed to find an empty room in an isolated corridor away from everyone. You entered and realized that it was a small storage room full of folders on dark grey shelves, a table and a locked cabinet.

After you both entered the room, Heeseung locked the door behind him, and you stood in front of the table with your arms crossed, impatiently staring at him. Unfortunately for your heart, it seemed like his addictive scent was even more evident in this closed room.

“So?” Your tone was impatient “What do you want?” He slowly smirked and approached you cautiously.

“You seem angry.” he stood in front of you making you scoff and put your hands on your hips “You didn't answer my question, Heeseung.”

Heeseung took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. He spent the whole afternoon mentally rehearsing what he was going to say, but now that he was in front of you it was different. Your red dress was making him lose his mind.

He needed to be honest, and he wouldn't run away anymore.

“I'm sorry.” your face softened at the sincerity in his voice “I’m sorry for disappearing, I know I should have said something.” Heeseung looked at you tenderly and touched your cheek “But ever since we kissed, I got crazy, like I genuinely couldn’t sleep, study or do anything without you showing on my mind” he breathed out “So… I needed to understand what I was feeling.”

You swallowed hard as you waited for him to finish.

“The truth is that I can’t stop thinking about you.” he whispered, moving closer to you “I know that since we met, we haven’t gotten along, and maybe I’m at fault at this because I’ve been an idiot to you several times, but there’s just… something about you…” he slid his fingertips under your jaw “You drive me crazy.”

Your heartbeat was already going crazy, while your breath was caught in your throat. The closer he got, the more you felt your feelings stir.

“What do you mean by that?” you frowned and crossed your arms, trying not to be shaken by Heeseung’s words and scent invading your senses.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “What I mean is that I’m here admitting that I want you.” he spoke directly making your legs weak.

Heeseung came closer and you felt your back touch the table behind you. His hands went straight to your waist as he pressed your body against his. Your back arched slightly and Heeseung brought his face closer to yours. “Do you really want me?” you asked shakily under the atmosphere pressure, and he smiled.

"Yes, I want you." he whispered against your mouth as he gripped the corner of your neck with the long fingers of his right hand "Isn't it obvious?"

His body radiated a unique heat that destroyed all your sanity. His dark eyes looked at you with intensity, breaking down all the defenses you swore you had put up against him.

“You’re all I have on my mind.” his smooth lips brushed against yours and your breathing became heavy “Can I kiss you?” his question was like an arrow being pierced through your heart “Yes.” you whispered, holding onto Heeseung’s forearms.

He smiled and kissed you passionately, pressing his body against yours. An electrifying current ran through your entire body when you felt his lips move intensely and passionately.

Heeseung kissed you with an insatiable desire. He couldn't get enough of your taste. He always wanted more and more. Suddenly, you groaned when you felt his tongue slide over yours and his hands grip your hips.

You couldn't deny it. Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, and it was so hot that you pulled him by his collar wanting more.

Heeseung moved his kisses down to your jaw and you gasped when you felt him grab your body by your thighs and place you on the table behind you.

“Did you dress up for me?” he whispered as he attacked your neck with desire “No, I always dress well.” you tried to answer feeling your breath quicken. Your hands went straight to Heeseung’s hair and he smiled against your skin “Aw, it’s a shame. I thought you wanted to impress me.”

Heeseung kissed your sensitive spot below your ear and you moaned making him smile against your skin “Why? Are you impressed?” you teased Heeseung and he moved his hands up your thigh under your red dress.

“Yeah.” he placed a lingering kiss on the center of your throat making your body tremble with desire “You're looking so fucking beautiful in this dress.” he kissed you again as you pulled him towards you with your legs. This time he kissed you slowly and deeply while holding onto your loose hair.

Heeseung was on cloud nine. How much he had missed feeling your lips on his, clashing in perfect harmony. When you pulled away from his mouth to breathe and began to kiss the length of his neck, he moaned, making you close your legs around him.

“You should see me when I'm not wearing it, then.” you whispered sensually before biting Heeseung's ear making his breath shaky as he squeezed your thighs tightly “Fuck — stop teasing me, baby.” The way he called you made your stomach turn.

“Why? What are you going to do if I don't stop?” You looked into his eyes, faking innocence, and began to slowly open the buttons of his suit, teasing him with your fingertips “You don't wanna know.” he smirked holding your neck tightly “I'm going to ruin you.” he bit your lower lip making you moan and squeeze his hips with your legs pulling him closer, seeking any kind of contact.

When you finished unbuttoning his suit, you ran your hands over his black dress shirt, sliding down his chest to his stomach, noticing how surprisingly defined he was. Heeseung instinctively groaned into the kiss and pulled your hair back to attack your neck and collarbone, making you gasp.

All of your reactions were like fuel that further fueled the fire inside Heeseung. He knew he couldn't go all the way in this storage, but the way you moaned and squeezed him with your thighs was making it difficult to control himself.

“You're making it hard for me to stop.” Heeseung said in a broken sigh with his forehead pressed against yours as his hands explored you beneath your dress “I want to touch you.” You could see the longing in his glossy eyes, especially by the way his cheeks and ears were burning red.

How beautiful he looked in that state of despair. A sight that only you had the privilege of having: seeing Lee Heeseung completely surrendered to you begging to touch you.

“Okay.” You whispered and cupped your hands around his cheeks, pulling his face to yours in a kiss, making him melt inside. It was insane how his mouth fit perfectly on yours, as if it was made especially for you.

Your entire body was on fire. The butterflies danced deep in your stomach when he slowly pulled the sides of your panties down as he ravished your mouth with his desperate kiss.

Heeseung's bangs were already losing their definition from all the movement and small beads of sweat accumulating on both of your foreheads making you think that your clothes were a big impediment.

With trembling hands, you began to open the buttons of his blouse, feeling the soft skin of his neck and collarbone under your fingers making him let out low grunts that shuddered your mind and body.

He forcefully pulled your legs closer to the edge of the table, making your body arch slightly. Your breathing became uneven as he removed your panties completely, letting them fall to the floor.

In a brief moment of sanity, you couldn’t believe you were doing this with Heeseung inside a storage room. This was dangerous, insane, lewd, and unfortunately, you liked it. It’s like your brain shuts out whenever you get involved with Heeseung.

As his hands began to roam the inside of your thigh you began to feel more desperate. “Heeseung, p–please.” Your stutter made Heeseung smile as his fingers slid across your skin teasingly.

“What?” he asked as he left a trail of kisses on your cheek “Please. Touch me.” You were on edge and he wasn’t helping.

He smiled against your skin, taking small bites on your jaw as his right hand slowly rose, as if to test your patience.

“Heeseung.” You dug your fingers into his shoulder, whispering, like a plea.

But before he could give you what you wanted, your phone started ringing madly. You were startled by the sound, and he pulled away for a moment so you could find your phone in the middle of the table.

You looked at the screen and your body stiffened when you saw that it was your father calling you. Heeseung instantly noticed the change in your body language and distanced himself enough to look at your face.

“Damn it.” You tried to steady your breathing “It’s my father.”

Heeseung stood up straight and reluctantly let go of your body, trying to catch his breath. He felt irritated. Why did it seem like someone always managed to ruin the mood between you two whenever you were alone?

He soon noticed that you were hesitating, so he grabbed your panties and gently pulled them up over your legs and touched your cheek with his knuckles “You need to take this call, don't you?” he asked in a tender whisper and you nodded, feeling suddenly ashamed of the situation you found yourself in.

“I'll give you some space.” he stepped away, closing the buttons on his shirt that you undone and straightening his suit again.

As Heeseung fixed his hair, you closed your legs, feeling completely frustrated at the interruption, and jumped off the table, adjusting your dress.

With a cough to regulate your voice, you answered your phone trying to sound normal.

“Hello? Father?” Heeseung leaned against the wall and stared at you from afar as you lowered the fabric of your dress.

Your face showed an expression of defeat, feeling like this situation is more complicated than it seemed.

Suddenly Heeseung began to reflect on how easily he lost control when he was with you. It seemed like it was too easy to lose himself in you, as if there were no consequences.

“What?” You felt your heart stop at what you just heard “Are you here at the event?”

Heeseung and you looked at each other at the same time, knowing what that meant.

You would have to face your father that night.

☆

Heeseung had helped you adjust your dress before you left the storage room first. Since he didn't want to draw attention, Heeseung had the idea of you going first and then he would leave.

You were clearly upset, frustrated, and tired. Why did your father have to come to this event now? Your mind could barely think straight after what had happened in the storage room.

Your heart calmed down, but you couldn’t forget Heeseung’s confession. How sincere and desperate he sounded. Your mind constantly went back to the way he talked, touched you, acted. He was addictive.

As you mingled through the crowd looking for your father, Heeseung watched you from afar, analyzing your behavior. Apart from the fact that you were a begging mess minutes earlier, the way you tensed every time your father was mentioned made him think there was something more about you that he needed to uncover.

You randomly wandered through the main ballroom and Heeseung approached your figure again “You seem lost.” he commented and you laughed lightly hearted “I’m just looking for my father.”

“What’s he like?” Heeseung asked looking at the crowd with you “Serious? A bit scary, I guess...” you whispered the last part, and he arched his eyebrow “I’ll be right by your side then.”

The way Heeseung showed he cared for you made you smile slightly “What a gentleman…” he smiled feeling the irony of your voice “Of course, I know how to treat a woman.”

You glanced at him, seeing how he was giving that naughty smile that meant he was thinking about things that had nothing to do with chivalry.

“Sweetie, I'm glad you came.” before you could say anything, your conversation was interrupted by your father's voice.

Heeseung turned to the side and saw how unusual your posture was. You suddenly looked more rigid, serious and with a monotonous expression.

You turned to your father and gave him that weak smile that Heeseung knew wasn’t genuine. “Hello, father.” Heeseung noticed how you called your father in a distant and formal way. As if you didn’t have the freedom to call him whatever you wanted.

“I didn’t expect you to come.” As always, you communicated only what was necessary with your father. Nothing less and nothing more. “I managed to get some free time to come see you and see my event.”

Heeseung realized what that meant. He was the famous Attorney Park who sponsored events and ways for people from difficult backgrounds like himself to have a chance in the legal field.

He was a legend in his field and his intentions seemed good, so why did you seem so distant?

“And who is this fine gentleman?” He turned his gaze to Heeseung who instantly bowed and extended his hand in a polite way “I'm Lee Heeseung, sir. Pleased to meet you.” He friendly smiled and your father shook his hand while he analyzed his figure.

“He’s my friend from college.” You replied, surprised at your father’s friendly interaction with Heeseung.

Heeseung didn't miss how you had called him friend and how strange it sounded. He didn't want to be your friend, he wanted much more.

“I didn’t know you had such a polite friend.” Your father seemed to be in a good mood while you felt a little more comfortable seeing that your father had taken a liking to him.

Then suddenly you started to realize how important this had become to you. His opinion of Heeseung was important because you really cared about him.

“I feel honored, sir.” Heeseung smiled gently “So, Heeseung.” Your father's attention was solely focused on Heeseung “Tell me, what do you think of this event?” Your father asked Heeseung, who swallowed hard and gave a gentle smile, feeling his gaze fixed on him.

“I think it is a terrific opportunity, sir. I had the chance to have a fruitful conversation with a few attorneys along with a friend and we had some great legal advice.” he was sincere and you bit your lower lip trying to contain your smile at how his vocabulary suddenly went back to being completely formal compared to the way he normally speaks to you.

It was hilarious to see him chatting calmly and composed as if he hadn't been absolutely ravishing you just minutes ago in a storage room.

“That’s great.” Your father gave a satisfied smile with his answer “Me and a few other colleagues sponsored this kind of event because life wasn’t easy for us, so we want to help the next generation in the best way possible.” Heeseung looked away to see Jake seemed more well-behaved than usual as he chatted with two older attorneys from afar.

“It’s an amazing event, sir. We are really grateful for this unique opportunity.” Heeseung smiled sincerely as your father seemed pleased with the conversation “What do you plan to do in the future, son?” Heeseung was left speechless for a moment “I want to be an attorney, sir.” You noticed how his voice trembled a little and you noticed how this was a big deal to him. This is his dream for real.

“That’s wonderful.” Your father gave a smile that left him stunned. It had been a long time since you had seen your father smile like that. “Since I became an attorney, I’ve been able to change my family’s lives, so I would say it’s worth it.” Heeseung felt an instant sense of identification with the sentence your father said.

“That’s why I have high expectations for my daughter.” He looked at you and you gave a tense smile that Heeseung instantly noticed “She’s the best in the class so she would indeed be a sensational attorney, but if I may say this, sir, I believe that regardless of the career she decides to pursue in law, I know she will be successful, because she’s brilliant in everything she decides to do.” Heeseung spoke seriously and you looked away from him, feeling your heart melt completely with his praise.

He could have promoted himself or just kept quiet. But he decided to risk it all by praising you to that degree, even without knowing your father.

And just like lightning strikes a tree and burns it, you realized the obvious truth: you were in love with Lee Heeseung and would accept the consequences that would come with that reality.

Your father looked at the two of you making it obvious he was analyzing the situation and understanding what was happening right there. The way Heeseung firmly said that, and you got shy made it obvious that you two were more than friends.

“It’s true.” Your father’s answer surprised you “If I’m being honest, I wish she could be an attorney like me, without the sufferings I had to go through, but I know her path can change, so I want her to be successful in any field.” You felt your body stiff. It was the first time your father had said something like that about you.

He didn't open up about his feelings very much, so you always thought that being an attorney in his office was everything he dreamed of and determined for you. "That’s why I’m strict with you.”  He looked at you with that stoic look you never understood “Well, you know I want the best for you, my dear." You nodded, feeling a whirlwind of sensations.

This interaction was different from what you expected. Your father was a mysterious man, of few words and curious actions, but you knew he was trying his best, despite being terrible atcommunicating his own feelings.

You may need more time to talk until you finally understand what kind of person your father is, but this brief, unexpected interaction is enough for now.

“Since you want to be an attorney, then come visit my office someday.” he turned to Heeseung who was stunned by the proposal “I can give you some advice when I have time.”

“It would be an honor, sir.” He showed your father an excited smile and you held back the urge to tease him right there. He was so cute when he got excited about a subject that interested him, especially about law.

“Father, you’re going to take all his time.” You said, smiling with your eyes, and your father laughed out loud “That’s right, I came here to stop by quickly and ended up talking too much.”

Your father shook Heeseung's hand and turned to you “Come visit me later, sweetie. It's been a while since we had dinner together.” You gave a slight smile and nodded “Of course, father.”

With one last greeting he took one last look at you and Heeseung before leaving without saying anything.

A part of you felt relieved, because for the first time in years you didn't feel so awkward after interacting with your father.

“Who would have thought, I'm alive to see Lee Heeseung wanting to go to my father's office.” You mocked Heeseung and he laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“Is that how you learned to give that fake passive-aggressive smile of yours?” he asked in a comical tone looking into your eyes and you smiled gently “It’s a basic prerequisite for survival in this environment.”

“It seems like a complicated cycle.” he said gently, turning to you “It is. You need to be perfect, always.” You glanced at Heeseung, seeing how stunning he was that all you could think about was how you wanted to attack him again “But I learned to deal with it.”

He looked at you again and felt a wave of remorse hit him. Ever since you met, he had been completely stupid and unbearable with you because of assumptions he made in his mind, but the more he got to know you, the more he realized that you were completely different.

“You know, I think I’ve been misjudging you all this time.” Heeseung confessed and you were surprised by his revelation “I thought you were the kind of insufferable rich girl who had no sense of reality, but I guess I was an idiot for thinking that without getting to know you first.”

“Heeseung—” “No, let me finish.” He looked into your eyes and touched your cheek with his hand as gently as possible “I’m really sorry for being such an ass to you for so long.”

Your heart seemed to explode as you heard Heeseung's sincere words.

“In a way I judged you because you seemed like you had an easy life, while I had to fight for a lot of things.” he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment “I know this is no excuse and I was immature and stupid, but I want to start over with you. Can we?” You gave him a mischievous smile “How can I deny it when Lee Heeseung is admitting his own defeat before me?”

He smiled, taking your hand between his knuckles “I'm serious. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I think you messed with me in some way since the beginning and I didn't know how to deal with those feelings.” the way he was finally opening up and confessing why he was so unbearable made everything fit together in your mind “So that’s why you were so annoying?” your suspicious look drew a hearty laugh from Heeseung “Yes, that too, but to be honest… it's actually really fun to tease you.”

You looked at each other for a moment, making him give that damn smirk that reminded you why you get lost in Heeseung every time you get alone. “I'm really trying to contain myself here, but you're not cooperating.” He whispered and looked away, making you give a discreet laugh.

“Oh, I didn't know you got so worked up because of me.” You whispered holding his arm innocently “I’m sorry mr. Lee, it's my fault.”

Heeseung looked at you like you were the most magnificent thing on the face of the earth. Suddenly he smiled and offered his arm so you could wrap your hands around it. “You better stop, or we won’t get to enjoy the rest of this event.”

You held his arm and smiled excitedly “Why? What are you going to do?” Heeseung sighed and gave one last whisper in your ear “Or we’ll have to finish what we started in that storage room.”

And with a few words Lee Heeseung made the nervousness boil in the pit of your stomach, making you excited about the idea of doing lewd things with him.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the semester that you would now be dating Lee Heeseung and walking hand in hand around campus, you would have thought they were crazy and needed to be hospitalized. But here you were, walking with a wide smile and bright eyes, your hand intertwined with Heeseung's soft fingers.

Gaeul was the first to know and she let out such an excited scream that you swore the entire building heard it. Yes, she was clearly loving the news and repeated several times about how 'she already knew' and 'it was obvious and only you didn't realize it' , but either way it was wonderful to feel like you had your best friend's support and to see how excited she was for your happiness.

Yes, indeed you were very happy, and this was unexpected since it was something you hadn't planned, it just happened. Heeseung had taken you out to dinner, given you roses and a necklace that officially symbolized that you were together. And of course, this was much more than you expected.

Ever since you and Heeseung were chosen as project partners, your mood was constantly tested, and you swore it was the worst thing that could have happened to you this semester. However, despite the initial disagreements, you ended up seeing another side of each other and you were surprised by the person Heeseung revealed himself to be.

A wonderful and passionate man in everything he does.

“Ugh, you guys are disgustingly cute.” Jake commented as Heeseung ate his lunch after putting more tomato on your plate because one day you said you loved the cafeteria salad.

“Thanks? I guess…” Heeseung laughed at his friend’s reaction while you ate your lunch calmly.

After you started dating Heeseung, you got to know more of his friends, and because of that, you realized that you didn't interact as much with people from college, so it's good to feel that your circle of friends has increased significantly.

“I always knew you two were a good match.” Jay said, taking a drink of juice, and Gaeul agreed with him “Oh my God, yes!!! I said the same thing! But she didn’t believe me.”

“Hey, why is our relationship being a topic at lunch?” You replied and they laughed, amused by the situation.

Heeseung was in a good mood. The atmosphere was lively, comfortable, and ideal. It was as if everything was going very well.

Just one thing that was making him nervous: The lack of time for you two to be alone.

Aside from the times you needed to meet up to study and work on your project, his activities and work were cutting into your time together and it was driving him crazy. He simply wanted to spend quality time with you without having to leave quickly because of some appointment or because someone interrupted you.

That's why he had decided that that day would be just for the two of you. He had already told Jake that he wouldn't talk to anyone and that he needed to be at peace with his girlfriend. So, after much debating, he decided that he needed to be alone with you and that was the day you would finally be together.

☆

“Babe, I can't believe we finally have some free time.” Heeseung was lying on his bed completely satisfied while you were lying flat on top of him. His right hand was firmly on your waist while his left rested on your cheek. His thumb drew patterns on your skin while you played with the buttons on the collar of his shirt “I know right? I guess our project and your job took a lot of our time.”

“I was dying to be like this with you.” He confessed, sliding his hand down your back “Just you and me.” You giggled, suddenly feeling shy “Me too.” Your confession made Heeseung smile mischievously.

How good it was to know that no one would interrupt you.

“Yeah?” He smiled, giving you a kiss on the cheek, another on your nose and finally on your mouth, making you smile gently.

Heeseung knew that you had become his calm place. Where he could rest and most importantly, stay.

It was curious how you had snatched his heart completely in just 4 months.

Because despite canceling himself out daily for the goals he felt he needed to accomplish, your presence came like a thunderbolt, changing his reality and allowing Heeseung to feel things he no longer remembered how they were.

He remembered what it was like to feel genuine desire for someone. What it really meant to genuinely care for someone.

“Hmhum.” You murmured in agreement with him, feeling his hands slide gently down to your behind squeezing the skin there making you sigh with pleasure.

“Is this okay?” he asked, acting innocent as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to touch your bare skin. His wet lips slid down your cheek, heading towards your neck.

Heeseung wasn’t in a hurry. He had all the time in the world, and he was going to enjoy most of it.

“Yes.” You replied trying not to lose your senses, as Heeseung kissed your neck at the slowest pace possible “You're so pretty, baby. Did you choose this skirt just to see me?” He asked and you smiled, nodding your head.

He smiled over your skin and nibbled, making your breath tremble and moan softly. Heeseung wanted to show you how desired you were, and he would take as much time as necessary to do so.

The afternoon was calm, silent, just like the afternoon of the day you kissed for the first time. He still remembers your subtle hesitation, as if you didn't know what to do at that moment but still responded to his kiss in a way he never imagined.

With his left hand Heeseung moved up the velvety skin of your back beneath your blouse. Your skin was soft, delicate, with a velvety touch that he loved to feel.

He couldn't get enough of the contrast of how soft your skin was compared to the hardness of his hands. He kissed your jaw slowly in a way that made you close your eyes and surrender completely.

When he finally reached your lips you intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling him towards you. How you had missed this.

Heeseung kissed you slowly, taking his time as he enjoyed the softness of your lips moving against his. He could taste a faint strawberry from the lip gloss you were wearing.

The damn lip gloss that always caught his attention.

The kiss quickly sped up as Heeseung licked your bottom lip, making you gasp and moan as his tongue entered your mouth. He was no longer patient, after all, it was very easy to lose all control when it came to you. His hands went down under your skirt and grabbed your skin, making your desperate moans be swallowed by Heeseung's mouth.

Heeseung's handprints were left on the skin of your thighs, as if they were a tattoo of his deep desire that you wanted to keep it. He kissed you eagerly, thirsty, wanting to taste every inch of your body and touch you as you deserve.

He pulled your body up tightly, holding onto your hips, making him grunt at the sensation of your body pressing over his pants. He was breathless, but he didn't want to stop kissing you. He moved away slightly to adjust himself on the bed and you felt your head spin with all the action.

Your lips were already bruised from the desperate kiss, and you felt a chill in your stomach seeing how Heeseung's mouth was red and swollen and he still wanted more. He wasn't satisfied, he wanted to taste your entire body and mark it with everything he had: his hands, his lips and his teeth.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt and his breath hitched as you sat lightly on top of him and took off your own shirt “Are you blushing Heeseung? How cute…” You teased him by holding his cheeks, seeing how red they were along with his ears. Heeseung was feeling sick at the sight of you topless, wearing only a delicate pink lace bra and your short skirt that was already rolled up.

“Yeah.” Your hands rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat at a frantic pace. He was so mesmerized by you that he could barely respond. His eyes roamed over your curves and he swallowed hard as he ran his hands up the skin of your torso, sending shivers down your spine.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” He whispered into your neck as he marked your skin with his teeth making you weak “Want to see more of you.” You pulled Heeseung’s face towards you, kissing him intensely. The mixture of your breaths with the suffocating encounter of your tongues made the air around you heat up.

Your hands pulled Heeseung's black shirt up as he helped you by giving you desperate kisses. Your body heated up at the sight of Heeseung's defined abs and you slid your fingertips across his skin, making Heeseung moan.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around you and turned you around, placing your body on the mattress and climbing on top of you.

He was absolutely breathtaking.

The strands of his bangs tickled your nose as he kissed you passionately. Your fingers gripped the back of his neck and your nails scratched the skin there, making him let out low grunts that made you even hotter.

Your hands slid down Heeseung's toned back as he trailed kisses along your jaw, down the line of your throat, kissing over the skin of your chest.

Heeseung made it his personal goal to mark all the skin on your body with his mouth if that was possible. He kissed and marked with hickeys whatever was possible while his hand squeezed the skin of your chest under your bra making you whimper.

With his right hand he moved up your back touching the clasp of your bra, opening it as he kissed the skin of your belly going lower and lower.

Amidst your sighs, Heeseung in one action took off your skirt and underwear, leaving you a little embarrassed and shocked with his dexterity.

Instinctively you closed your legs as he looked at you, feeling that his self-control had already disappeared. You were completely perfect.

But he wanted more.

Your soft skin seemed to glow with the small beams of light that escaped from his bedroom window. You were there, beneath him without clothes, and he was sure that you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

No one would ever compare to you.

“Don't be shy, I want to taste you.” he got on his knees, touched the top of your knees and slid down your legs looking at you between his messy bangs as you felt your heart explode inside your chest “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Your insides churned with agitation, and you obeyed him slowly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the bold way he spoke.

Heeseung's gaze changed. He looked determined, insatiable, and desperate to taste every part of your skin.

He stood between your legs, kissing down your belly to the lower part of your stomach, holding onto your thighs, making you place your hand on his face, caressing him lightly. He felt his heart melt at your affection.

Heeseung placed his face in the palm of your hand, placing a tender kiss on the inside of your skin. He nuzzled into the warmth of your hand before giving you a lewd look that made your breath catch.

He kissed your thighs, making you anxious. His dark brown hair revealed reddish highlights from the light and you noticed the small mole he had on his forehead.

There was no denying that Heeseung was beautiful. And he was all yours.

Every time you felt Heeseung's mouth marking your skin, your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensation. He didn't fail to notice how soaked you were already, making his pants tighten.

Heeseung devoured you with desire. He was relentless, savoring and sucking on your skin at an insane pace, as if he was starving. At times, he looked at you, taking it your reactions and feeling a sense of pride fill his chest at how desperate you looked by his marks. Your hands pulled his dark locks, making him grunt as you became numb with pleasure.

Your legs were wobbly, but Heeseung held on tightly while he marked more spots on your skin. You noticed how the veins on his forearms ran up to the back of his hands.

At that moment he was incredibly sexy.

You could not form comprehensible words, only broken moans and loud sighs that couldn't be translated.

“Feels so good, Hee.” You almost cried and Heeseung felt his heart clench at the way you called him “More.”

Heeseung on the other hand loved it all. He loved losing himself in you and seeing how desperate you became as he skillfully worked your body.

“Fuck—” He took a deep breath and gave a shaky sigh before sucking another spot at your inner thigh “Say that again, princess.”

“More, Hee—” Your voice could barely finish his name while Heeseung felt his pressure rise at the sound of your voice and panting moans.

As you melted under Heeseung's mouth, he held your hips so they wouldn't move up while he continued to kiss your bare skin from your lower stomach up to your mouth.

He gave you a tender peck on the corner of your mouth “You taste so good baby.” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you felt his hands roam over your body possessively “I want to make you mine.”

“Please.” You nodded with your eyes closed “I need you.” He smiled and kissed you once more as his right hand combed through your hair, intertwining his fingers in the strands on your scalp.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him madly, hoping he would understand all the feelings you wanted to deliver intrinsically with your kiss.

With ragged breathing he got to his knees, undoing his belt, while you tried to recover from everything that happened.

His forehead was wet with sweat and some strands of his bangs stuck to his skin. You felt your body tremble with anticipation, biting your lower lip at the sight of Heeseung giving a mocking smirk while not taking his eyes off you.

“How do you want it?” he teased you as he took off his pants, seeing how completely needy you were for his touch “Slow?” he took off his piece of clothing, hovering over you “or rough?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the question and he smiled watching as you closed your legs lightly around his hips at the last suggestion.

“Rough, huh?” He pulled your body closer by your hips and straddled you again “Is that right?”

That afternoon would be all about you. Heeseung decided that making you feel good would be his top priority and nothing else mattered. If you wanted it rough, he would give you exactly that.

“Yes.” You replied in a low whisper feeling your chest heave with excitement and Heeseung brushed his lips over yours “Yeah? You're so naughty, baby.” he bit his lower lip holding your wrists beside your head “You have this innocent pretty face, but you like it rough, huh?”

He crashed his lips into you with a deep kiss again, exploring your entire mouth violently with his tongue. He came to the conclusion that he would never get tired of your lips.

It was a messy, wet, intense and completely overwhelming kiss. Heeseung released your wrists, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your body into him, making your stomach knot with his aggression.

Your moans were swallowed by Heeseung's mouth as the pressure of his body on yours drove you crazy. He began attacking your neck with open kisses as he positioned himself between your legs.

“Please, Hee.” Heeseung smiled seeing how you begged for him. Just like the way he always dreamed of “I want you so bad.”

Your hands grabbed his strong shoulders, and he sucked in a breath, trying to control himself with the ecstatic sensation of your body enveloping him completely “You want me, baby?” Heeseung members were shaking as he heard your delirious whimpers in anticipation “So, be good for me and wait like a good girl.”

Heeseung's heartbeat was already racing in an insane rhythm as he held onto your hips tightly, sinking it into the mattress, but not giving what you wanted. “S-Stop teasing, Hee.” You whispered in despair, and he breathlessly moaned, feeling your nails scratching the back of his head between your choking whimpers.

“Sorry baby, I just wanna take my time with you.” While you felt Heeseung’s body completely over yours, your nails sank down the length of his beautiful, toned back, scratching his skin, and your forehead rested on his shoulder, hiding your face. Heeseung grabbed your jaw and pulled your face to him, kissing you, making your eyes water slightly “Look at me.” he whispered with a shaky breath over your mouth “I want to see your pretty face.”

“Hah—” You opened your slightly blurry eyes and could barely respond to Heeseung, who was breathing irregularly, adjusting himself at the perfect position “C'mon baby, you can take it.” he whispered, wrecking you completely.

Heeseung felt butterflies in his stomach seeing the sight of you beneath him writhing in pleasure. It was lewd, sexy and scorching. It was everything he wanted: to see you completely surrendered under him while he roughly handled you.

He finally realized that every day he discovered more reasons to love you, and he was happy that your love story was just starting.

At that moment, nothing else crossed your mind other than his name: Heeseung. So, you allowed yourself to give yourself completely to Heeseung and fall apart under his touch and the intoxicating feeling of his body on top of yours, giving you everything you wanted most.

☆

After a long bath and more stolen kisses, you were cuddling on Heeseung's bed while he stroked your hair.

“I'm so tired.” He said, smelling his shampoo on your damp hair “I need to sleep for about 10 hours straight to recover.”

You laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek “How a college student would find time to sleep for 10 hours?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find a way.” he touched your cheek with the back of his fingers, caressing the spot “And you? Are you tired?” You nodded as you let yourself be numbed by the smell of Heeseung’s perfume “This semester killed me.”

“I know right? It feels like we didn’t even have a break.” He stroked your hair affectionately “And speaking of breaks… my dad wants you to have dinner with us next time.” You spoke in an uncertain tone, afraid of Heeseung’s reaction to the sudden invitation “Really?” He smiled at the corner of his mouth and looked at you, noticing how shy you were “Yes, at the last dinner we had he mentioned that he wanted me to invite you. I think deep down he realized that there was something between us since the day of the foundation event.” Heeseung chuckled remembering the interaction they had.

You felt more comfortable seeing how excited Heeseung seemed with the invitation “Sure, I’ll go.” he looked at you with a loving look that filled your chest “And how was dinner?”

“It was kinda weird… but nice.” Heeseung noticed a slight smile on your face. You usually had a strange relationship with your father, but ever since the day of the foundation event it seemed like your father had shown a new side. “We didn’t talk much, but I think I’m finally understanding a bit how my father’s mind works.”

Heeseung remained silent, leaving you comfortable to vent “Did you talk about your plans of not working on his office after graduation?” you smiled a bit “Kinda... I talked about the informal invitations I received from other offices, and he seemed neutral. He said I should analyze the opportunities that will come my way very carefully.”

“That sounds like a good answer.” Heeseung commented and you nodded “I feel like since my dad spent most of his time working to give me the best, we never really talked much, but now I think he’s trying, in his own way.”

“Maybe he’s not good with words, but he seems to care about you.” Heeseung stroked your cheek with his thumb “It was always like that, he never said much, but he tried his best.”

“Well, at least you had the courage to tell him about the proposals you received and now you can rest easy.” You smiled and gave Heeseung a long kiss that melted his heart “Yes, thank you for listening to me, baby.”

“Of course, love.” He gave you a long kiss on the cheek and looked into your eyes with an amused look “So… does that mean your father likes me?” Heeseung wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, giving you that confident smile that made you push his face away as he laughed “Oh, here you go again...”

“What? It's true.” He watched you run your fingers through his hair “I’m the best son-in-law he could ask for.”

You gave a mocking smile seeing Heeseung's confidence “And to think that I'm dating you... maybe I've gone crazy.” He pulled you by the waist, giving you a hug from behind and a kiss on the back of your neck “Yes... crazy about me.”

Yes, you had to admit that he was right.

You were crazy about Heeseung.

Mrs. Jung was attentive with a serene and calm expression as she watched you present your project. The entire class seemed impacted by the union of the best students in the course creating an impeccable synchronization. It was impressive how you were able to complement each other on the points where each of you had difficulty.

You and Heeseung were a duo that seemed to be perfect for chaos, but right now, everything seemed to fall into place as you showcased your incredible project with unique nuances. From the beginning, you overcame many barriers to give your best, and finally you could reap the fruits of your hard work.

“In conclusion, we must recognize that this evolution of human rights within international law is of utmost importance. In short, International States are not only composed of power and sovereignty, but also of individuals who need to be protected and guarded.” Heeseung naturally confidently ended his part by introducing the final conclusion of the project. It was clear that this was the environment in which he felt comfortable, presenting something he had the authority to speak about.

“And therefore, the protection of human rights is not just a mere internal concern of each Internacional State, but also of the entire global legal system.” You finish the presentation to the sound of polite applause filling the room. Mrs. Jung gave a satisfied smile and stood up from her chair holding the evaluation clipboard she was holding.

“I must say, when I paired you up I knew you had potential, but I’m immensely surprised.” You swallowed hard, fearing her assessment, since she was known as a strict teacher. “You decided to approach a complex topic, but the way you both explored and conducted the research was very interesting. It was a pleasant surprise, I’m very satisfied.”

Heeseung and you looked at each other, feeling flattered by the teacher’s praise. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Jung.” You thanked her and went to sit in your seats with smiles on your faces.

As Mrs. Jung called the next pair, Heeseung was feeling elated. You had finally finished this project and you had definitely gotten top marks, but the best part was knowing that he had won the best prize: you.

Heeseung's hand touched your thigh discreetly under the table and you turned to him trying not to smile. "Hee! What are you doing? We're in class!” You whispered in his ear and he gave a small smile “Relax, I'm just recovering my energy.”

You gave an airy laugh and placed your hand over his, intertwining your fingers “Can't believe I'm dating you.” He gave a closed-mouth smile and leaned down to your ear “I know, right? You're so lucky…” Heeseung whispered in an ironic tone and you held back from laughing.

“Oh, please.” You commented playfully “I’m trying to concentrate here, Hee.” Heeseung sighed and squeezed your hand before placing an affectionate kiss on your palm “My bad, baby. You're so pretty I lost my focus.” You rolled your eyes but felt your heart flutter “So cheesy…”

“But you love it.” He smiled and turned to the front.

You really loved the antics of Lee Heeseung, your former rival, project partner and best boyfriend you could ask for.

☆

1 YEAR LATER

Lying in your bed while reading a doctrine was Heeseung's guilty pleasure. Your mattress was much softer than his, your pillows were super comfortable, and the sweet smell of the bamboo air freshener you bought was chef's kiss.

He was calm, reading one of your favorite criminal law books that you had recommended due to the author's impeccable didactics. Your eyes scanned his figure, admiring his concentration.

He was wearing glasses, with messy hair and a black tank top that definitely wasn't cooperating with your thoughts. He looked too perfect, too good for someone who was just reading.

You usually loved doing your makeup or any other kind of activity while Heeseung read something in your room. Even the silence was comfortable between you because of his warm presence.

But today you couldn't concentrate properly. Heeseung was too handsome, and it was disturbing your mind. How dare he be so sexy like that without even trying?

It was unfair how he was so mesmerized by his book that he didn't realize how needy you were just by the sight of Heeseung in your bed.

You climbed onto your bed and crawled towards him, who seemed more focused than ever. When Heeseung felt your weight on his lap, he looked up from his book and stared at your angelic face. “What are you doing?” You smiled, pulling the book down “You need a break.”

“Babe, I was finally getting the grip of The Fruit of the Poisonous Tree theory!” He groaned feeling your body rub against the fabric of his pants “I’m just getting rid of your stress.” You said innocently as you placed the book on another corner of the bed “My stress? I think you are getting rid of your stress, miss.”

He held onto your waist, watching you hold onto his chubby cheeks. It was disconcerting how he could be cute and sexy at the same time. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but I still think a break would be good to you.” You gave him a peck on the lips that made him smile over your mouth.

“Yeah?” he asked, fitting his face into your neck “I guess I need a break then.” You sighed, feeling him run his lips along the length of your neck and smiled against your skin “Great.” your fingers intertwined in Heeseung’s soft hair, making him grunt and attack your mouth.

With your left hand you took off Heeseung's glasses and threw them on the bed as you deepened the kiss. His hands slid down your torso, eliciting broken moans from you.

As your senses were lost in Heeseung, your cell phone vibrated with the notification of your email.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for an internship position at our law firm. We look forward to receiving your answer as soon as possible. — Jung & Taylor Legal Advisors

Perhaps your and Heeseung's journey into the legal world was just in the beginning.

☆

☆

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[blasphemyandbackshots]

you were already in bed when the door slammed. “hyoma?”

no answer, only the sound of cleats thrown hard against the wall and the heavy stomp of a furious man. you padded into the living room just as he dropped into a chair, head bowed, fingers fisting through that long red hair.

you knew that silence. you hated that silence. “your knee?”

still nothing. you moved to kneel in front of him, hands gently brushing his thighs and finally, his eyes met yours.

“i felt it snap,” he muttered. “mid-sprint. same fucking spot.”

your chest twisted. “baby…”

he shook his head, breathing hard. “i was finally starting. i was finally fucking feeling it again. and now—”

his voice cracked and you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his waist.

but he gripped your shoulders hard and said, low. “i need to do something. i need to feel something. or i’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

your breath hitched. “okay.”

“i’m serious.” his eyes burned. “let me take it out on you.”

you blinked. heat bloomed in your belly. “yes,” you whispered. “do whatever you need.”

his jaw clenched. his grip tightened. and then, suddenly, you were pinned on the couch, his mouth crashing against yours like he wanted to consume you. clothes were gone in seconds. your legs were pulled over his good knee as he shoved his cock inside you, no teasing, no mercy. just frustration, pain and need.

“fucking hell,” he hissed against your throat. “you’re the only thing that ever makes sense.”

you moaned, back arching. “hyoma—”

“shut up,” he growled. “just take it. just let me have you.”

he rutted into you with sharp, brutal thrusts. hips snapping like he was still on the field, chasing something. you clung to him, nails dragging down his back, tears stinging your eyes from the intensity.

“you’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re mine, and i don’t care if i lose my knee again, i’ll crawl to every game just knowing i get to fuck you like this after.”

your orgasm built fast, wrung from the friction and heat and emotion. you came with a cry, pulsing around him, as he kept pounding into you.

“again,” he muttered, gripping your thighs harder. “i need you to come again. need to feel it. need to see it.”

you whimpered, overstimulated and squirming, and he smirked.

“too much? then don’t take it. but i’m not stopping.”

and he didn’t. not when your legs started trembling. not when you begged. not until you were gasping, twitching, flooding around his cock again so hard and tight he spilled inside you with a strangled groan.

he didn’t pull out. he collapsed against you, panting. body heavy and hair clinging to his flushed face.

after a long moment, he whispered. “i’m sorry.”

you cupped his jaw. “for what?”

“for being selfish. for fucking you like that. for not saying anything first.”

you kissed his cheek, still catching your breath. “you asked. i said yes.”

he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. “you’re everything. even if i never run again—you’re still everything.”

and you believed him. because nothing felt more honest than the way he held you after. arms wrapped tight, face buried in your neck, whispering over and over.

“still mine. still mine. still mine.”