#all things lambda

[404-art-found]

I keep forgetting to post this acrylic painting of Lambda (and a "horse"); I'm still not pleased with it, but it's not like it's ever getting finished.

The earliest photo I have of this guy is from September 26, 2023; the latest, November 8, 2023. I never did finish it nor will I ever, because this painting completely vanished over Thanksgiving break from my school's art closet and I have zero clue where it went.

Apparently over the break there was a leak (rainy weather; the building had multiple leaks throughout the month) in the closet and there was a good inch of water over the floor, including where I normally rested this after working on it. So, in all likelihood, it probably got water damaged and tossed out. Funny how that happens to the painting of my very water/sea-oriented OC.

I am sad of course that it vanished; hell, someone could've stolen the thing. I'd rather it got water damaged and tossed out than stolen, honestly; fits Lambda better. But since I felt like I was going nowhere with it, resigning myself to the disappearance didn't mortally wound me. But fitting, I suppose, that the last time I saw this was a day before my birthday, and he promptly up and vanished and probably got water damaged.

So, enjoy all that remains of this painting of Lambda: Progress photos.

[mechahero]

Bro, he would like to win once.

[windor-truffle]

*chants in increasing volume* ghost AU ghost AU GHOST AU GHOST AU

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly 2 trans 2 furious is also extremely like [billionsposting as people never meant to be here yet having the symposium while not necessarily having a good time but we can also analyze &/or simply play around with it in other ways with an easy ability to deconstruct things enough for that & perhaps have a good time, perhaps have something way more complicated than that but which could also be called having a good time] like including in its having the "there's a nonbinary f&f character" entry in there at all through kompensoing & monitoring billions since & drawing funny little guys about it (winston, e.g., and taylor) and then also that like, Any & Every Entry in 2 trans 2 furious is of that genre of crucial tour de force visionary symposium understander posts that get 2 notes. and then compiling that is like yes of course this wins an award, a surprise but also not really at all.

[certitudinis]

[theouger]

yeah i think utena might just b gone. fucked

[thetransfemininereview]

Do you have any recommendations for gaining access to these books? I have a pretty long list of ones I want to read but can't afford most of them. The library has the big ones (Whipping Girl, Detransition Baby, Nevada) but the newer or less well known ones have been difficult to find

No this is actually so real though. Let's talk about it.

One of the big problems that I'm trying to address here is the fact that there is a lack of ability for trans books to reach their perhaps core audience, trans people. Over the last few years trans librarians have been trying to increase the number of trans books in circulation, but that's super contingent on where you live. Not to mention the fact that, at least in the US, states are actively trying to criminalize circulating trans books in libraries.

I know Tumblr is allergic to economics a lot of the time, but you've gotta look at the math to understand why this is the current state of things. Essentially it's a vicious cycle. Lots of trans people can't afford to buy a $25 hardcover on a whim, and traditional publishers put a lot of stock into how well a book performs on release, cause that's how they make money. So when the core audience can't afford it and isn't marketable, they register that as a lower demand, which means that fewer trans books get published, fewer end up in libraries, and the cost of an individual book is driven higher. Low demand, high price. Then because the price is high, trans people cant afford the books, and the cycle continues.

It is the dilemma of the transfemme author that most of their core audience is also gonna be transfemme. It's a self-selecting process that's very hard to break out of. And at the end of the day, there just isn't very much money to go around in the trans community because trans people so frequently get cut off from generational wealth. So when you get an ecosystem of transfemmes selling books to other transfemmes who also sell books to them....

I took a class on the Sociology of Art a few years ago, and one of my core takeaways was that the boundaries of a field (yes my teacher liked Bourdieu, come for her ass, not mine) are fundamentally governed by institutions and entities with the money and power to dictate their rules of play. In Althusser's language, you would call those ISAs (Ideological State Apparatuses). When you read Weber, he talks about how culture needs to have some level of social legitimation in order to become a force of power in the world (I butchered that but it's the gist lol). And it's like.

The people who have the money to read the books dictate which books receive the money. Organizations like Lambda Literary, presses, big name publishers, etc. One of the big problems in the field of trans literature up to this point is that the only people who've had the money to produce social legitimation from the organizing schema/matrix of an ISA have also only chosen to read a very small slice of the extant literature. Then, because those non-profits and presses and companies only champion a small selection of books, that in turn dictates for those who have less money which of those books deserve social attention, critical acclaim, sales, library slots, etc.

And like, all of that is an illusion, but it produces a material reality for the transfemme author. It dictates the material conditions for the reproduction of said literature and who can participate in it.

So, what's to be done about it?

"Buzz" is a big deal in the publishing industry. A good review, an award, a thinkpiece - all of that can be the difference between a successful book and a flop. Publishers look for that. If nobody talks about a book and it doesn't sell well, they'll drop the author faster than you can say Susan. Again, vicious cycle. But like, at the end of the day, a "field," an "ISA," a "legitimated" work of art, that's all just a class prerogative. The different between a Very Important Literary Blog and a "person talking about books on the internet" is money. Like. It's just money. The reality of it is really banal.

It's who has the money to read books. It's who has the money and time to write about books. It's who has the money to gain institutional access to book. It's who has the money to read enough to say, "Oh, well that might seem true, but if you look at X, Y, and Z it's clearly not." It takes money to fact check. It takes money to challenge institutional myths. It takes money because when an institution makes a claim about a book and none of the people who care enough to argue with them have the cash to challenge it, the claim tends to stand.

And like, the honest truth is that between the books, the website, and the education, I've spent a lot of money bringing this website online in the form you're reading it in. A lot of the books I've read were really fucking expensive. I grew up in a wealthy family, my parents were accepting. They have both the means and the desire to support my passion projects. I'm lucky.

The goal of The Transfeminine Review is to create at least one independently trans-run website that can challenge that brand of institutional legitimation work from non-profits and big publishers and cis outlets, a website that can actually highlight transfeminine literature as it exists in the world, not as the Big 5 publishers have dictated it. Topside, Metonymy, Arsenal Pulp, LittlePuss, etc. They've all taken on that challenge from the angle of producing books, but there hasn't been a corollary trans secondary ecosystem dedicated to documenting and critiquing them. Or there is, but it's extremely diffuse and hard to find if you don't know exactly what you're looking for. Then there are the general queer outlets, like them. and whatnot, and they do their best but literature is a side hustle at best. There's the queer-helmed literary outlets like Electric Lit (shout out Denne Michele Norris) but they spend most of their time talking about cis authors. None of it is designed to help or review self-published literature from poor authors, and let's be frank, most transfeminine publishing is still done indie or self.

It's an investment, essentially. On the longshot, the hope is that this website will inspire others to do similar work, and that eventually through the collective efforts of trans authors and their readership, we can begin to change the math on trans publishing and help to spread it to a wider audience.

Now.

None of this changes the current reality that trans lit is expensive.

Unless you're lucky, you're probably not gonna find much trans lit at the local library even if you dig for it. Another good place to find free trans books is transreads.org, but their selection is mostly non-fiction, and the fiction is, again, largely the same few books you can find elsewhere. Another good online queer library is https://www.queerliberationlibrary.org/, which might be a good place to look (shoutout to Skye for bringing it to my attention!)

There are a couple of cheaper places to find trans books. If you shop around on itch.io, a lot of self-published trans authors have "name your price" models, which can be more accessible. Creators on itch will also bundle their work on a fairly regular basis, so you can get like 10-20 books for $10, which is, by my token, an excellent price.

If there's a particular author you're interested in, a lot of self-pub trans authors have Patreon accounts where they serialize their novels. You also can find serial (pre-edit) versions of a bunch of books on Scribblehub.

This has gotten steadily less affordable over the last few years cause Amazon is evil, but Kindle Unlimited ($11.99 a month, but there's a free trial) has thousands of trans books. Most of them are erotica, but like, there are a lot of hidden gems in there, and if you're a voracious enough reader, then it'll definitely be much cheaper per book than buying trad.

The problem with all of these, though, is that they tend to favor specific genres and tropes. Like there's only so much variety on itch.io or Scribblehub or transreads.org or KU. So if you like the genre conventions, then awesome! But if you don't it's probably not for you.

And none of it will give you access to some of the rare older tradpub books or the new but scarce releases that I've been going through unless you're willing to pay the full price for them.

I wish I had a better answer, but that's unfortunately the current state of the industry :/

Hopefully this ramble is helpful.

Beth

[lightbluesleeper]

IT’S DONE AND ONLY A DAY LATE

no seriously though, hlvrai is one of my favourite things on the internet . ever and all i really want to say is a huge thanks to RTVS for creating this goofy ass series 🧡🧡

happy 4 year anniversary funny half life :)

closeups under the cut incase tumblr slaughters the quality :D

and i know i drew the lambda the wrong way shush

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Hugo Drama

Hugo Gernsback: hey everyone its me, hugo gernsback Gernsback: editor of Amazing Stories and namesake of the hugo awards Gernsback: perhaps you've heard of them? Clive Barker: oh buddy Barker: buddy Barker: we've heard all about them ha ha

Stephen King: they're named after you? i thought they were named after victor hugo Gernsback: ha ha a common mistake Gernsback: but that's fine Gernsback: i'm not mad at all that victor hugo keeps getting the credit Gernsback: i think its funny Gernsback: in fact i'm laughing

Gernsback: ah yes my precious hugo awards! Gernsback: the most prestigious award in science fiction and fantasy! Gernsback: a place for serious business Gernsback: certainly no room for shenanigans here Gernsback: no room for tomfoolery Gernsback: no room for clownish buffoonery

Gernsback: The Hugo -- an award whose very name rings with integrity & honor!   Gernsback: it is no mere nebula! no paltry clarke! Gernback: the stoker, the howard, the lambda - none can compare! Gernsback: the L Ron hubbard writers of the future award? pah! dust before the hugo!

Gernsback: only the choicest cuts of science fiction and fantasy would ever achieve the lofty hugo award Gernsback: an award forever untainted by shenanigans or hijinks! Gernsback: now to take a big sip of coffee and read this  file 770 report!

Gernsback: what the--?! Gernsback: my beautiful hugos!!! tainted by the foul stench of corruption!!! Clive Barker: yeah boy i bet victor hugo's just sick about it Gernsback: Barker: just sick about what they did to his award Gernsback: Barker: ha ha Poe: clive leave him alone

Gernsback: my hugo!!! you were supposed to be a thing of beauty... not this monstrosity! Dean Koontz: gosh he's so sad about his award Koontz: do you think it would cheer him up if i gave him my nickelodean kids choice award? Poe: i think that would be a very nice gesture dean

Chris M Barkley: [thrusting microphone] Mr gernsback! mr gernsback! a statement for the press? Jason Sanford: [thrusting microphone] how do you respond to the allegations about your award mr gernsback? Gernsback: confound these intrepid newshounds of the 4th estate!

Gernsback: [wiping brow] don't worry, we will be taking measures to fix this Barkley: what are you going to do mr gernsback? Sanford: the people demand an answer mr gernsback! Gernsback: we'll uh Gernsback: we'll nominate an essay called 'Dave McCarty Can Fuck Off Into the Sun'

Gernsback: what a debacle! i cannot believe my good name will now forever be associated with such shady practices! HP Lovecraft: hey when are you gonna pay me for my story you ran? Gernsback: new phone, who dis?

Gernsback: you know who this really hurts? Gernsback: worse than the nominees secretly disqualified for politics? Gernsback: worse than the entirety of Chinese science fiction secretly disqualified for being Chinese? Gernsback: worse than the winners whose awards are now tainted?

Gernsback: the person that this hurts most of all Gernsback: is clearly bitter karella Gernsback: for reasons i can't articulate Gernsback: everyone should immediately go and heap conciliatory praise on bitter karella Gernsback: truly the most wronged person of all

Bitter Karella: [bravely holding back tears] no no it's not about me Bitter Karella: [voice cracking] my only thought is for the hugo community who has been through... so much... Bitter Karella: [stoically gazing into distance] they're the REAL heroes

Gernsback: look how bitter karella keeps a brave face... for our sake! King: god bitter karella is so brave... and so modest! Poe: truly a great goblin Poe: possibly the greatest Koontz: why? what did they do? Poe: dean! show some respect!

[jockbroski34]

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan.  We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school.  I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans.  Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore.  And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with.  I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend.  On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him.  It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life.  For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left.  I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests.  I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan.  I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework.  I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student.  I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.  I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?”  the giant asked.  The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different.  I took a closer look at him.  “Long time no see, huh?”  I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate?  Woah, what happened to you?”  I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend.  This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation.  He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches.  He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see.  The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric.  He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms.  I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me.  But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to.  A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them.  Sigma Lambda Chi…  Had Nathan really joined a frat?  To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?”  James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms.  He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice.  I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot.  Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him.  I was gay.  To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship.  But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all.  Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately.  I’m glad you noticed.”  He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body.  His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine.  A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn!  You look great, dude!”  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again.  On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this.  On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys.  It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro?  I know I’ve been busy a lot lately.  Sorry about that, dude.”  We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to.  Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more.  He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal.  That lifestyle just isn’t for me.  He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school.  I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself.  Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate!  Finally found you.  You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude.  And who’s this dude?”  The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro.  Brett, this is James.  We go way back.  James, this is Brett.  He’s my roommate.  We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,”  Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me.  He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time.  “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro.  I just ran into him and we were catching up.”  Nathan responded.  “Hey, I gotta get going.  We should get food sometime.  Peace!”  I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym.  As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something.  This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for?  I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick.  I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him.  As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat.  I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time.  I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once.  He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from.  For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way.  I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore.  It was like he was a completely different person.  He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore.  He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore.  All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night.  All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer.  It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight.  The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now.  The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier.  I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t.  Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked.  Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off.  He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright.  To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you.  I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person.  I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me.  I felt like we had a good time today.  I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now.  I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro.  You might be right though.  Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy?  You’re more than that.  You’re my best friend.  But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew.  It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying.  You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro?  The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this.  I guess I was right, bro.  But trust me, I’m happy like this.  I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too.  I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best.  To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding.  I could never picture myself joining a frat.  I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with.  I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him.  I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying.  To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone.  It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back.  Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan.  I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym.  He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now.  If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite.  As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with.  It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind.  Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him.  I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on.  Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro?  One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone.  To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk?  There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now.  I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants.  I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment.  Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat.  When I asked, he didn’t specify what though.  It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?”  A mischievous grin appeared on his face.  Was he seriously offering me beer?  I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him.  Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks.  To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21.  Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us.  Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.”  Nate went to get two bottles for us.  I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it?  Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled.  “After a while, you get used to it.”  Nate turned the TV on as we chatted.  I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal.  I felt like I was a little too harsh on him.  It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago.  As we chatted, my body started to tingle.  Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate.  I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird.  Is this normal, bro?”  I asked.  By this point, we both had two drinks each.  I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.”  Nate responded, with a smile on his face.  Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober.  “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.”  I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body.  I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate.  Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead.  There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol.  As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt.  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess.  You alright?  Do you wanna change your shirt?”  Nate asked.  I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me.  It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes.  “Sorry about that, bro.  First thing I found.  Hope it fits you.”  It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it.  I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff.  For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top.  I wondered how I would look dressed up like that.  I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him.  I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro.  The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me.  Still, it was better than nothing I guess.  Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though.  It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it.  He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered.  I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom.  My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier.  Workout…Was that what happened earlier?  …I think so?  Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis?  For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me.  I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual.  After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t always look that big, right?  From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks.  I had to have been really drunk at this point.  I chuckled at the figure in front of me.  At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros!  I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!”  he said as he squeezed my muscles.  I have been working out recently, I think.  “I thought you passed out in there.  Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James.  I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation.  Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place.  The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment.  I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join.  I needed to join more than anything else.  I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros.  At this point, nothing was too extreme for me.  The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to.  Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,”  my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could.  I had committed at this point.  No backing out now.  I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!”  He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close.  “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something.  Did I actually agree to join his frat?  I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.  When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it.  “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it.  “We’re gonna be matching now, bro.  Isn’t that awesome?  I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever.  But you’re wearing it wrong.  Let me fix it for you, dude.”  He turned the brim around so it faced my back.  As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt.  I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest.  My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away.  Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me.  I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers.  Look like them, think like them, act like them.  Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro?  By this point, the changes were irreversible.  Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro.  You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt.  So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me.  I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro.  Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro.  It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge?  Huhuhu…”  I really had to think about that one.  I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak.  To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me.  He did what he had to as a member of the frat.  I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug.  We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle.  My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me.  Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi.  He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on.  He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow.  “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro.  I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch.  I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky.  Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight.  But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now.  I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit.  I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it.  It felt right to me.  It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down.  Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now.  It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge!  I looked awesome, bro.  As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh.  Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants.  Fuck, I was so horny for some reason.  Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes.  We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again.  “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over.  There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro.  I can take it,”  I responded confidently.  My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude.  I think I like you, bro.  Not like you, but I think I like like you.  I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me.  That’s why I had to make you a bro like me.  I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro.  And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool.  We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming.  First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me?  How crazier could this night get?  For all my life, I thought he was straight.  I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back.  I couldn’t stand her.  When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night.  To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too.  When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous.  I didn’t want to accept you for who you are.  But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.”  I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found.  It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most.  I felt like I was in heaven.  I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore.  I never did.  That shit was stupid anyways.  But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever.  I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?”  he whispered in my ear.  A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck.  This was real.  I nodded as he took me to his bed.  I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect.  He laid down on his back and stripped naked.  I never felt this aroused before.  My dick even looked bigger than it used to be.  I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months.  I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say.  I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now.  I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him.  In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome.  My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed.  My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s.  We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room.  The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder.  After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time.  I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs.  At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed.  We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.”  he whispered seductively as he kissed me.  We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate!  Did you do it?  How did it go?”  a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room.  I recognized the voice as Brett’s.  He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked.  To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out.  Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded.  He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro?  But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad.  I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes.  More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially.  Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded.  It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers.  I also learned how Nate met Brett.  He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat.  Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us.  Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat.  Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat.  They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen.  Not that either of us minded.  Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game.  Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become.  It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu.  I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too.  I even ended up changing my major.  I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore.  I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience.  I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside.  I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester.  We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent.  We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to.  College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again.  I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

[mechahero]

//SPEAKING OF-

[octuscle]

The ghost of Gamma Omega Lambda Delta

“Are you sure we're standing in front of the right house?” asked Leander. The property was in a miserable state. The porch was half collapsed, the front garden a mixture of jungle and garbage dump. The exposé had shown a reasonably presentable house, which certainly had potential as an investment property in the immediate vicinity of the campus. Leander looked at Jacob a little disparagingly. Jacob was the prototype of a sleazy real estate agent. A little too fat for his not-so-new suit. The heels of his shoes were worn out. And with the help of a little too much pomade, the top of his head painstakingly concealed his incipient baldness. Jacob struck a pose. “You know what my real estate investment is all about: location, location, location! And this is a prime location. Perfect for a boarding house for guest lecturers. Or as a commercial student residence for exchange students. The Germans and Scandinavians will pay almost any price for rent.” Leander sighed. He came from Berlin himself and knew how expensive it was to study in California. But it had paid off. He was in his late 20s, a millionaire several times over after the exit of his start-up and he had no intention of dying a millionaire. His goal was a billion. “All right, then, let's take a look at the wreckage from the inside.”

The first thing they saw was a cat fleeing from them in a panic when Jacob unlocked the door. It looked as if no human had disturbed its peace for a long time. The house reeked of cat pee and mustiness. Jacob searched for a light switch with his flashlight. Leander pulled aside a tattered curtain in disgust and opened a window. It was clear: tear it down and build a new one. There was no alternative. The wooden floor was rotten, the light switches didn't work and the stain on the ceiling suggested a leaking roof. But in his mind's eye, there was a Starbucks branch and a co-working space down here and, if he could bribe the building authorities, one- and one-and-a-half-bedroom apartments on eight, maybe ten floors above. The location was perfect. But he didn't want to let his interest show. Leander was a good poker player. “Give me a flashlight, I'd like to have a look around upstairs,” he said to Jacob. And of course he was prepared and handed his wealthy customer a flashlight. “Do you need gloves too?” he asked. Leander waved them off. He wasn't a wimp, he wasn't afraid of getting dirty.

The stairs creaked unconvincingly as he went upstairs. “What was this before?” asked Leander. “A frat house, as far as I know,” Jacob replied. That at least partially explains the dilapidated condition, Leander thought to himself, pushing a pile of leaves aside with one foot in disgust. It wasn't just leaves. There were also the remains of weathered jockstraps. The upper floor seemed to be in an even worse state than the first floor… But at least there was a light on in one room. Amazing!

Jacob left his client alone. When he sold the property, it would be renovated. The property was huge. There used to be a basketball court and a pool on the dilapidated property. Of course, both were no longer recognizable due to the undergrowth and junk. But a dormitory with 20, maybe 25 units could be built on the site alone. The battery in his flashlight was flat. He needed light… And air, it really stank to high heaven in this ruin. Jacob began to draw curtains and open windows. That made it brighter and airier. But it also made the misery more visible. Dude, this place was really run down. The floor was full of garbage and leaves, the walls were covered in graffiti… Jacob came into a hallway that looked surprisingly tidy. There were stains on the wall from pictures that were no longer hanging. Lots of pictures. All obviously the same size. Only one was still hanging:

Jacob read the writing on the plaque on the frame: "Bruh of the month 09/2024: Chad". What the hell? It was September 2024!

Leander struggled through the garbage towards the lighted room. While all the other doors hung crookedly on their hinges and were covered in graffiti, the open door to the room was almost clean and looked tidy. There was a sign on the door that read “Mitch and Scott's man cave. No entry if sock is on the door handle. Unless you can take two cocks!” The room was messy. The way a dorm room was usually messy. But it looked as if Mitch and Scott had just stepped out for a quick shower after a fierce sword fight. It smelled of musk, sweat and cum. Leander got a hard-on.

Jacob felt uncomfortable. Something's not right here. He also had to pee. No, he had to piss. Fuck, his bladder felt like after two pitchers of beer. He had to burp. And his burp smelled and tasted like beer. There had been toilets around here somewhere. Better to piss in a broken toilet than just in a corner, he thought to himself. Yes, this was where the washrooms were. A frat boy was standing at a urinal and wanking. He looked curiously at Jacob's crotch. Did Jacob have to be uncomfortable now? Never mind, he had to piss. And if a bro was wanking next to him, that was somehow a compliment.

Leander opened one of the cupboards. It smelled like a boys' locker room in high school. T-shirts, football gear, jockstraps, sneakers… Everything was just stuffed into the cupboard. Some of it was clean. Other things were obviously not. Without giving it much thought, Leander undressed and pulled on a jockstrap, a pair of ripped jeans and a shiny college jacket. He found a pair of formerly white socks and sneakers on the floor. Everything fit perfectly. But with his 35 years and beer belly, he looked really ridiculous.

“I'm Dylan, are you new here?” asked the wanking bro next to him as Jacob buttoned his jeans. “Because if you're new, you might as well leave your jeans unbuttoned. I prefer to see the cocks of the new guys who suck me off outside their pants”. Jacob looked at Dylan's hard-on. impressive compared to his own. He went down on his knees. “Wait a minute!” said Dylan. “No one blows me with a stuffy shirt like that.” Leander freed his upper body. And let his tongue play with Dylan's shaft.

Leander lay on Scott's bed. He sucked in Scott's scent. For a sophomore, Scott smelled like a real man. Leander thought about Scott's hairy balls. He liked it that Scott didn't shave. Nothing against a clean-shaven cock and clean-shaven balls. But a man was hairy, he thought as he scratched his chest hair. Out in the hallway, he heard Scott and Mitch coming. They were both praising each other's performance at football practice. The two of them came into their room. Scott grinned and said that his prayers had been answered. He had wished for an awesome cardio workout before the party tonight.

Jacob asked his roommate Dylan why they only ever had sex in the washroom and never in their room. Dylan licked some of his own cum, which was dripping from the corner of Jacob's mouth, off his face. “Because it would be totally homo if we slept in the same bed we were fucking in.” Jacob didn't ask. He was here for his wrestling scholarship, not his intelligence. If Dylan, who had at least once had a B in English and supposedly even in math, said so, it would be true.

Jacob, Dylan, Mitch, Scott, and Leander all arrived at the Gamma Omega Lambda Delta fraternity house party cave at almost the same time. The party was in full swing. Jacob and Leander greeted each other with a chest bump. It was customary among the college wrestlers. And then they started drinking. The others had been at it for an hour. They had some catching up to do.

Shit, it was 05:00. Both of them had already thrown up some of the beer and tequila they had drunk. And poured new beers and tequilas. Leander actually had to rewrite his microeconomics exam today. If he failed again, he would probably have to allow the dean to blow him again. But what was much worse was that they had wrestling practice this afternoon. If Coach found out that they had overdone it again as party animals, they would be in big trouble. Okay, but that could also be settled with a blowjob. Besides, they still had four hours to sleep, no one expected the two stallions to show up on campus before 10:00. Life as a frat boy was just awesome!

[sugar-grigri]

Neither Denji, Yoshida nor their author can achieve normalcy

Let's look at Chainsaw Man as a narrative whole. There's no point in an author dealing with a subject that's already been dealt with, except to say something additional: so what does this chapter tell us?

Entitled "Normal Life", the chapter refers directly to Denji's previous dream: a normal life became Yoshida's offer to push him to stop being Chainsaw Man.

Fujimoto knows that you've understood that Denji intends to go beyond normality. This is something we learned from the whole of Part 1: normality had already been used by Makima to manipulate Denji. Here, things seem redundant, as Yoshida follows in the footsteps of the former antagonist. On top of that, while Denji was communicating and showing a certain emotional vulnerability, he's being sexually assaulted?

Why this chapter? Why tell it like it is? Fujimoto doesn't seem to initiate anything new, worse, erases his own developments.

The answer is easy, and Fujimoto gives it to us: this chapter is frustrating because it consciously shows you that he's incapable of writing and describing a normal life.

The first few pages serve to show that Denji is incapable of living anonymously and incognito when his environment permanently gravitates around the figure of Chainsaw Man. Denji literally finds himself in a fight to his detriment, and is punched in the face in the name of his heroic identity. Back in the face.

The second page serves to show that Denji can't achieve this so-called normativity by his past, by who he is, but above all by the way he's perceived by society and his guardians. He doesn't have a normal past, so how can he achieve a normal present? The others don't see him as lambda, so how can he become one?

The third thing that will prevent Denji from achieving this normal life is the man who intends to offer it to him: Yoshida. In his equally unconventional present as a demon hunter. He tells him explicitly: he has no idea what a normal high-school student does. Normal he isn't, since a normal high-school student is a professional cover for him.

Denji and Yoshida perceive a normal schoolgirl, that is, the ordinary life of a schoolboy, as something projected and unattainable. Just like the love of a hug is unattainable for Denji and Makima. Yoshida and Denji are distanced from it by this abnormality embedded in their daily lives: a demon.

Yoshida's assertion that the world won't end without Chainsaw Man also loses its meaning. Granted, Chainsaw Man isn't the only one to eradicate demons. But who will save the world?

How can a boy whose family includes a demonic little sister, and a demonic dog who is both his heart and his family, find his way in this normal life other than by being isolated?

In this empty room, doesn't it seem more like Chainsaw Man is deliberately isolated? Trapped in this normal life he can't quite fit into. Whether it's because of his identity as Chainsaw Man, as Denji, whether it's because Yoshida offers him this girl who looks like a demon who literally followed orders to sleep with him, this sex-obsessed boy?

Why abruptly cut off Denji's realization that he's in a bad way? With this demon-like girl sexually assaulting him? Why does this ending seem so abrupt?

Because what Fujimoto is indicating is that he's not capable of writing a normal life for Denji either, that his writing will never be gentle, that his character will never be able to give himself up in appropriate, normal circumstances: that a trauma will always resurface.

Whether it's the demon that prevents him from accessing the life projected before him, or the demon that brutally cuts him off from his confessions by attacking him. Fujimoto confronts his own hero, who no longer knows what to do?

Make love? In a world populated by demons? In a world crawling with Chainsaw Man? With an author unable to depict a normal life without brutally interrupting it, frustrating his own reader?

The normal life we'd all like Denji to have: neither he, nor the man who offers it, nor the man who writes it, will give it to us.

[insertpinkchiphere]

@gazelessmenagerie liked for a starter!

The cyborg pants, arm coming up to wipe off blood flowing down his chin. Another long, grueling fight with the Saiyan he so very much despised, another crushingly brutal loss. Another chance for it to be rubbed in his face, which he always hated. He also hates that he had the bright idea to wear that attachment he asked for. Granted, he hadn't counted on getting into a fight that day but still.

He's not too fond of the feeling of his pants tightening to an uncomfortable degree. In fact, he kind of hates that too.

Lambda forces himself up, pain radiating through his body. He coughs. "Are you-" Another cough and some attempt to clear his throat. "Are you happy now? Asshole."

[certitudinis]

obsessed with ep 5 for SO many worst girl erika reasons, but few things in it are as iconic as lambda and bern deciding to have such a soft, lovey-dovey scene together Moments After having orchestrated the most VILE! DISGUSTING trial just for funsies

everything is Terrible™, they've flagrantly defiled & desecrated the whole game, some guy is standing dead in a corner but who cares!! they're on yuri duty and they're gonna hold hands

[hoshologies]

ALL GREEK LOVE, LEE H.

synopsis — you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. that's all well and good until heeseung lee, the newly elected social chairman for lambda rho and well-known in the greek community, reaches out to you to start planning runouts between your respective chapters. and now you're spending a lot more time with the cutest boy you've ever met.

genres &&. warnings — romance, fluff, meet-cute, smut, strangers to friends to lovers!au, college!au, greek life!au &&. underage drinking, afab!reader, tipsy sex, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation.

word count — 15.7k.

from the author — not to be totally sorority girl, but the way i see greek life depicted in college au fics is CRAZY. now that i'm back hardcore into my kpop stan era, i rewatched the drunk-dazed mv and was like hmm... so the ultimate plan here was to write heeseung filth but also portray greek life a little more accurately because even if i'm not a huge fan, one thing about me is i'm gonna make sure y'all KNOW that greek life isn't just parties every weekend.

jokes aside, i really hope you enjoy this fic and my first real return to writing. likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome. and honestly, if you have any questions about greek life that you just have to know the answer to, i'm an open book.

if you enjoyed it, feel free to buy me a ko-fi!

the entire summer before starting your freshman year of college, you had told your family that you weren’t going to join a sorority. in your mind, there was a specific mold that one needed to fit into to join a sorority and quite frankly, you checked none of the boxes of those stereotypes. 

yet here you sit, months later, in your sorority’s chapter meeting. and you’ve just been elected to the social chair position of the chi nu chapter of delta eta sigma. 

truthfully, you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. you hadn’t formally rushed the week before school, but a couple of drunk girls at a frat party at the beginning of the semester had told you that you should rush their sorority. maybe you’d been a little desperate to branch out or maybe you were just a little curious of what rushing looked like, but a few days later at the student organization fair, you’d found the booth for the sorority the girls had told you they belonged to, delta eta sigma, and signed up for their informal rush.

by the end of october, you had been extended a bid, assigned a big, and promptly initiated into the chapter in what you jokingly referred to as a cult ritual (how could you describe it any other way? all white outfit? candles? promises to not divulge secrets about rituals that happen behind closed doors?).

and now, just three weeks after officially joining the chapter, you’ve ended up on the programming board somehow. you’d gotten a call from the selection board while sitting in the drive-thru of mcdonalds, waiting impatiently for your order of fries and a sprite as a treat for doing well on your gen psych quiz. the girl who’d called you said you’d made “quite the impression” on the sorority since accepting the bid and that they (including the chapter advisor) thought you’d be the perfect fit for the social chair.

“it’s a solo position, so you won’t have a co-chair like community service does, but given your grades so far this semester and the impact you’ve made on the chapter already, we would really love to see what you can do in this position! would you be interested?”

so really, how could you say anything but yes? you still don’t think you fit all that perfectly into the chapter, but they were giving you an opportunity to get involved and to make yourself fit. your name is announced for the social chair, one of your senior pictures pasted up on the powerpoint, and the girls around you smile and snap their fingers. from the executive board seats up front, your big smiles at you, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride.

a few days later, as you’re getting lunch at the student union, your phone screen lights up with a notification from groupme. a name you vaguely recognize is paired with a message that gets cut off after a few words.

heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho and…

as you sit down with your salad and dr. pepper, you click the notification and read it in full. at the very top of the new message thread is heeseung’s picture and it clicks where you recognize him from. he’s friends with your big and he’s involved in a few of the bigger student organizations on campus, namely the activities board, so you’ve seen him in the student union fairly often.

[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho! i’m friends with liv and she told me that you just got elected as the new social chair for your sorority. i just got slated into the same position for my frat.

[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: i know we won’t start running things until next semester, but i just wanted to reach out and touch base with you. i’m really looking forward to planning runouts with you next year :]

[1:37 pm] heeseung lee: sorry. i hope that wasn’t too weird. i guess i’m just a little too excited and want to get a bit of a headstart on things. have a good day!

you laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you set the phone down to take a bite of salad. before getting involved in greek life, you always assumed sorority girls and frat guys were airheaded and mean, people who peaked in high school, trying desperately to drag those glory days out. obviously since then, you’ve come to realize that while it is true in some occasions, most times, greek life members are the opposite.

heeseung, who you’ve never spoken to before, is proving that.

[1:42 pm] hi heeseung! not weird at all, i promise. and i’m really excited to plan events with you next semester too :]

by the beginning of february, you haven’t done much with your position. granted, the semester has only really been in full swing for about a week and a half and you have two full semesters to do plenty of things, but you’re itching to start planning. the binder you were given after the officer transition ritual has so many good ideas, everything from runouts with frats and sororities to both formal and semiformal.

while you’re brainstorming ideas for potential social events late on a tuesday night, your phone lights up from its spot on your nightstand, the short bell sound ringing out. you reach for it absentmindedly as you finish writing down the idea you had (rent out skating rink??? check budget). since the beginning of the school year, you’ve become desensitized to the groupme icon when it appears in your notifications, so much so that you barely register heeseung’s name upon first glance. it takes a second look for you to realize who’s texted you.

[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: sorry for texting so late. i just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up some time and start on some ideas for a runout?

[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: obviously not now!! but if you’re free some time this week, we could meet somewhere and talk. i spent all of winter break brainstorming stuff, so i’d really like to run it by you if that’s ok.

[9:14 pm] hi again heeseung. i was actually planning on getting lunch tomorrow at the student union after i’m done with class at 11 if you’re free then?

the second you press send, you immediately start second guessing yourself. does it come off like you’re asking him to have lunch with you? because that wasn’t your intention. really, you just meant that you’re going to be on campus proper for a little bit and wanted to offer to meet before you got lunch. not that it would be a bad thing if he asked if you could get lunch together; liv likes heeseung well enough and you’ve seen him around, and he really does seem nothing but nice, so lunch really couldn’t hurt— okay, take a breath. it is not that serious.

you take a deep breath and then let your muscles go lax as you exhale. better. 

it feels like ages pass before he texts back. you’re worried you’ve scared him off, but it really shouldn’t be that stressful. it’s just a text and he’s the one who wanted to meet up in the first place anyways; you just offered a time and location. but finally, your phone dings again and his name lights up your screen.

[9:21 pm] heeseung lee: actually that works perfect!! i get out of class at the same time and usually grab lunch at the u before heading to the activities board office. wanna meet by the dining area next to the office?

[9:21 pm] sounds like a plan!! i’ll see you then!

heeseung, you realize as you set your phone down and put away your binder for the night, is the only social chair of any of the greek organizations who has reached out to you to start getting the ball rolling. he seems to be just as anxious as you are about doing this job well, which makes you feel at least a little validated. nervous and jittery though you may be about meeting him for the first time tomorrow after only having chatted with him over text twice, the idea of him feeling the same as you brings a strange form of comfort. with enough of it, you actually start looking forward to seeing him tomorrow as you lay down to sleep, mind running a mile a minute with what it’ll be like to meet him after all of the things you’ve heard about him from liv. by the time you slip into the embrace of sleep, anxiety has boiled down into anticipation.

at 11:02 the next morning, heeseung nearly scares the hell out of you when he shows up at the designated meeting spot. you’re so invested in your twitter scroll that you don’t notice when he walks up. it’s not until he says a soft “hi” that you jump and almost drop your phone in the process. when you look up, there’s a worried look on his face.

“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” 

after a moment to catch your breath, you shake your head and wave his worry off, though the gesture doesn’t do much to make that worried look on his (undeniably pretty) face. “it’s okay, heeseung. really.”

to really seal the deal, you shoot him a gentle smile, trying to prove that your heart isn’t about ready to give out anymore. you feel blessed when he returns it, all quirked up at the corners and smile lines and soft, plush cheeks. silence falls, the two of you smiling and staring at each other like idiots until heeseung shakes himself out of his stupor.

“anyways…” he clears his throat and moves his gaze towards the food court. “what did you want to get to eat? my treat.”

you look up at him, at the way he’s pointedly not looking at you and instead examining the restaurants just beyond the dining areas. you know, the restaurants that have been the same for the last five years probably and will be here for another five, the ones he’s grabbed food from at least a couple of times since the semester started and even more since the beginning of the school year. 

“you don’t have to buy me lunch, heeseung. it’s-”

he finally turns to look at you again, that same easy smile still pulling his features into a soft form of happiness. “it’s no problem, really. just an act of good faith. all greek love and whatnot, you know?”

you laugh a little at that, conceding but allowing him to choose where he wants to get lunch from since he’s the one paying and you don’t really have a preference. by the time you’re sat opposite each other at a table with meals from the burger stall, your stomach is rumbling. you’re about half of the way through your burger when heeseung looks up from his fries, clearing his throat to get your attention.

“so…” he starts. it’s clear he hadn’t planned what he wanted to say before catching your focus, so an awkward silence settles over him, eyes on you but focused somewhere off behind you like he’s looking through you instead. you tilt your head, lean in close, which snaps him out of the trance and he restarts. “right, ideas for events. i have a binder from the last social chair of my frat with a bunch of things he did during his time.”

“oh! i do, too!” you interject. “there’s a bunch of stuff that the last girl did and then things some of the girls before her did too.”

heeseung’s grin breaks back across his face, bright and warm; you swear, a smile from this boy alone could break up the threatening winter storm currently hanging over campus. “there’s a bunch of good ideas in mine. but i’m not quite sure how well they’d work right now because of the weather.”

“are most of the ideas outside?” you inquire, taking a sip of your soda while he confirms your suspicions. when you put the cup back down, you wave off his concern. “no worries then. almost all of mine are ones that can be inside, so we could go through those if you want!”

heeseung nods and smiles that morning sunlight smile of his, and you can’t move quick enough to pull the thin pink binder out of your tote bag. he clears away some of the trash from the table so you can lay out the binder, intro page on full display. for the next five minutes, the pair of you pore over the pages upon pages of ideas, sleek white cut through with black ink that lists the idea, the locations, how much it costs. 

you’re so invested in going over everything with him that you hardly acknowledge when heeseung stands and moves into the open seat beside you so neither one of you is craning your neck. you simply adjust the binder so you can read through the pages comfortably. it isn’t until heeseung points one out excitedly and you look up in startle that you finally notice that he isn’t a foot away but inches, noses just centimeters apart.

right now, this is the most compromising position you could possibly be in with a boy you hardly know and you find yourself praying that nobody from either of your chapters decides to walk by. of course, neither of you have anything to hide – this is a simple brainstorming session, of course, absolutely nothing more – but liv and your small group of friends would never let you live this down if they saw it.

heeseung clears his throat after seconds that stretch into years and you break your gaze from his painfully (how can you be blamed for staring? he’s that soft kind of pretty that hypnotizes). “um… so i think rollerskating could be fun…”

it is a good event that your sorority has done with the other frats and sororities in the past, one that you were playing around with as a potential plan to pitch to him. the fact that he picked it out on his own accord makes you bristle with something akin to pride, a feeling so warm and comforting it has you leaning just a little closer to him.

let the girls see me, you think as your sweater-clad shoulder brushes against his own. there are worse things they could catch me doing.

“actually… this was one of the ones i was going to suggest if you didn’t find any that you were really interested in…” you say quietly, voice nearly lost in the din of the dining area of the student union.

heeseung looks at you, blinking slow and round and soft, as if each flutter of his eyelids is a moment of his brain processing your words. “really… maybe it’s a sign…?”

his voice is just as soft, matching your energy in one swift go. you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as you, if he’s feeling that it seems like you’ve known one another forever despite only knowing each other for fifteen minutes max; it seems like your souls themselves are in complete synergy, so why would it be so farfetched to wonder if maybe you knew each other in a different life to have caused that synchrony?

you laugh a little and shrug, shoulder brushing against his softly; the movement is short and sweet, but your heart rises in you like the high tide, washing through your veins with foam and salt and the kind of breeze only the ocean can bring, chill and warm all at once. “maybe so.”

silence settles over the table like sand stirred on the ocean floor, the both of you lost in your own worlds. heeseung has dragged his soda to this side of the table and sips absentmindedly, gaze focused miles beyond the horizon of the hallway. he’s completely checked out when your consciousness wanders back into your body and you take the moment to study him a little: the even slope of his nose, high cheekbones paired with plush skin, long eyelashes that brush the apex of his cheeks when he blinks, a flutter of dark against light. 

there are worse boys you could be caught staring at.

you’re still thinking about your lunch with heeseung hours later, even when you’re out getting your weekly tuesday night ice cream with your big. liv is going on about how her professor for her linguistics class pissed her off during lecture today, but you’re not absorbing a single word of any of it. you remember vaguely that he openly disagreed with her during the lecture and they got into a debate in front of the whole class, but beyond that, you don’t know much else.

“god, he’s just the worst. i can’t believe– alright, you’re in the stratosphere right now. what’s going on?”

you snap back to reality, eyes wide and goosebumps prickling up under the sleeves of your sweater. you shake your head, trying to brush away the conversation she’s trying to prompt, even though it’ll be futile because liv can’t let things go for the life of her. “nothing! everything’s fine, i swear.”

liv’s eyes narrow and a single dark eyebrow quirks up. “yeah, i’m not buying it.”

you glare playfully at her, eating a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. when you swallow, you answer with a pointed, “when do you buy anything i say? really, liv. it’s nothing.”

“did someone say something to you? i’m part of panhellenic and on the all-greek council. if someone did something, i can handle it.”

you shake your head earnestly and wave a hand for extra emphasis. “olivia. seriously. nothing happened.”

your big is silent for a few moments, studying you intently. her shady blue eyes, usually wistful and giving the impression of being miles away herself, cut right down to your very bone, as if she’ll find the answer she’s looking for written into your skin or soul, carved into your heart. eventually, she sighs and slumps back against the booth.

“alright, fine. i’ll believe you this time,” she says in a voice that hints at disappointment. “but you’d tell me if someone did say something to you, right? i’m serious about getting things taken care of if someone does something like that to you.”

you smile, reach across the table, rest your hand over her. “yes, liv. i would tell you if somebody treated me badly. you’re the only friend i have who would be willing to go to jail if needed. but i promise the situation doesn’t call for that right now.”

she perks up a little at your words and takes a deep breath, nodding. she’s back to her bubbly self, resuming her rant about her asshole linguistics professor who definitely shouldn’t have tenure. the whiplash her behavior gives you definitely just secured her an award for “most melodramatic” at formal in april (which, fuck you have to start planning that soon too).

you remain checked into liv’s rant, assenting when she asks you for your opinions on this professor who you’ve never met and never plan on meeting, and offering advice when she wants it. but you still find yourself wandering off at times, mind focused on heeseung.

you’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her about meeting with the boy earlier; she’s one of his friends and she’s always spoken so highly about him, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. in fact, she’s mentioned in passing a couple of times (mostly when she’s undeniably hammered) that she thinks you and heeseung would make a cute couple, even though she’s never seen the two of you interact, let alone exist in the same room.

but there’s something special about the thirty minutes you shared with heeseung. you met in a public place, sure, but something about it felt and still feels so sacred to you. it’s something you want to keep a secret for at least a little while. that soft sunshine smile and the low tide brushes of shoulders are things that, for now, belong solely to you and heeseung. it won’t kill liv to be left out of the loop for a while.

“do you think we should have it closer to midterms?” heeseung’s voice is pure static, like he’s going through a tunnel, even though there’s only half a campus worth of distance between you.

the two of you have graduated from groupme dms to phone calls over the course of three days. heeseung is saved affectionately in your phone as sseung with the deer emoji, one that you picked out as he sat across from you after you’d exchanged numbers; he doesn’t know about it, but he reminds you often of a deer caught in headlights with the way he stares at you all wide-eyed when you try to catch his attention.

“maybe? but people have to study. i’m not sure how often your guys are in the library, but i see at least thirty girls at the library every single night, so i’m not sure how willing they’d be to give up a night of studying, even if it is only for an hour, that close to midterms.”

heeseung’s small, thoughtful hmm is audible over the speaker and you smile to yourself over a basket of clean laundry. you’ve spent maybe three hours max with him over the last couple of days and already you have a pretty decent grasp on his personality and habits. right now, you can picture the way he likely looks up from his phone or planner and stares off past the beige cinderblock wall of his dorm room, turning possibilities over in his head.

“no, you’re right about that. i didn’t even consider it.”

you shrug as though he can see you, folding a pair of sweats and setting them to the side. “i’d definitely like for it to be soonish though. it doesn’t have to be planned super far in advance, you know what i mean? we’ve still got… what? a month until midterms?”

“i think so, yeah.”

you nod to yourself, hanging up one of your shirts. “okay, so what about two weeks from now? that lands us right in between now and midterms, so it’d be a happy medium.”

he’s silent on the other end of the line and you pause in your hanging of another shirt, worried that he’s thinking you’re stupid. of course, heeseung would never think anything like that about anyone because he’s the sweetheart to end all sweethearts. still, you worry because what this boy thinks of you is ridiculously imperative to your day to day functions.

three days, you remind yourself. you’ve known him for three days. there’s no reason for his opinions to hold this much weight.

you wonder if heeseung knows just how easy it is to like him, to be around him; if he knows just how much you want to see him all the time because he’s completely taken over your every waking thought. liv’s comments about him made in passing never could have truly captured just how amazing he is, nice and caring and so so pretty. you’re almost embarrassed to be this head over heels for him, but when he laughs over the phone or focuses all of his attention on you over a table in the food court, that mortification burns away into something soft and sweet and slow.

“i think that’s a great idea. not too soon, so we can make sure our chapters know it’s happening, but not too late that it disrupts any midterm studying.”

you breathe a sigh of relief and smile to yourself, resting your hands against the lip of the laundry basket. the rational part of your brain knew he was going to agree, but the part of you that so desperately craves his approval was disgustingly terrified that you wouldn’t receive it. now that you have, though, a heat rushes through you, pride warm and bright because you offered a good solution to the minuscule obstacle.

“yeah, exactly!”

you can just imagine the grin on heeseung’s face right now, delicate like freshly fallen snow. the image fills you with the giddiness of a high school girl, glad to be the one to have caused such a beautiful sight. “okay, cool. i’ll talk about it with the executive board, get it approved and whatnot, but i think we should be set, besides who’s paying for what.”

“what do you mean?” you question, brows furrowing as you finish up the last of your laundry.

“what do you mean?” there’s a playful, teasing edge in his voice. “someone has to pay to book the rink and the shoes, and don’t you think there should be snacks?”

“oh… yeah, i guess so.”

“so i was thinking we’d cover the booking and you could cover the food… but only if you’re cool with that! obviously, it’s not a big deal or anything, but i figured we should get that in order too so we can a specific date set and everything.”

“no, no! that works fine for me! i honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead, so it’s a good thing you did.” the line falls silent for a few moments, static crackling softly between you. there’s just something about the idea that you’re so close yet so far from each other, physically distant but holding each other close like this over a quiet cellphone line. it’s comforting to have him like this, you find.

“but yeah…” you break the stillness with your voice soft so as to not completely shatter the tranquility you’ve cultivated here. “that’s… that’s good thinking, heeseung.”

“hanks…” his own words mimic the same volume, nearly lost in the haze of the phone. “so… i’ll run it by the exec board and let you know?”

you hum a quick mhmm and tell him that you’ll do the same. there should be no reason that you’ll be denied, but the fact that liv, seeing as she’s vice president of programming, is part of the exec board and will find out that you’ve been, at the very least, talking to heeseung on a semi-regular basis (see: every day this week since tuesday afternoon) is a little nerve wracking, mostly because you’re ninety-nine percent sure she’s been hinting at trying to set the two of you up.

and when you say hinting, you mean pointing him out on campus or at parties and saying something like “really, i think you two would get along so well! you should go and talk to him.”

she was right about that, but the last thing you need right now is her finding out that you are catching feelings, all without her meddling. but you’ll make peace with the fact because you have to.

liv sidles up to you two weeks later on a thursday night, knit-clad arms crossed over her chest. you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s wearing a smug expression right now. “so…”

you don’t even physically react to her presence, instead choosing to gaze out over the rollerskating rink in your little college town. “so… what, liv?”

she nudges you with her shoulder and leans with her back against the wall separating the rink floor from the carpet of the sitting area. “you and heeseung, huh? i’ve been telling you for ages that the two of you would get along!”

you scoff playfully and roll your eyes, finally turning your head to look at her. “can you not start sentences like that?”

“like what?” she asks innocently.

“like heeseung and i have something going on. all we did was plan one runout together. we’ve only met, like, one time in person.”

you regret the words almost as soon as they leave the tip of your tongue because the second she hears the phrase “in person,” she’s already causing a scene. even though her voice is somewhat drowned out by the music blasting over the speakers, the absolute tenacity with which she gestures with her entire body draws more attention than it should. melodramatic as per usual.

“in person? when was this? and why was i not informed?” the questions liv asks a million times come out more like exclamations than anything else, too caught up in melodramatic distress to adjust the tone of her voice correctly.

you shrug absently, turning your head back towards the rink. heeseung is standing on the opposite side, talking to a few of the guys from his frat. he looks nice in his blue and green sweater and loose jeans, brown hair tousled from the winter breeze outside. “a couple weeks ago. and i didn’t tell you because it just wasn’t that important. we literally only had lunch just to talk about ideas for this.”

liv whines your name and stomps a foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “yeah, but i’m your big. i wanna know these things! and i’ve also been trying to set you two up forever! you didn’t think i’d want to know that you’d finally met him, even if it wasn’t because of anything i’d plan? my feelings are hurt.”

“first, this is exactly why one of the awards for formal this semester is going to be most over dramatic and exactly why you’re going to win,” you start, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “second, i knew you would want to know, but i also knew this is how you’d react. i didn’t think you’d want to know about us setting up an event together, like… there’s no tea to spill or whatever. it’s just boring stuff. i don’t even know him that well.”

a bold-faced lie if you’ve ever told one; you know heeseung down to the cologne he puts on every morning. and maybe there was a little more to the event planning sessions. at least five times over the past two weeks, heeseung has approached you either in the food court or at the library, and taken the seat opposite of you to chat and study a bit. not to mention, you’ve texted every single day since the two of you officially met for the first time.

but again: nothing liv needs to know. heeseung, for now, is just your little secret. the conversations you’ve shared, the little details you know about him, the sweater he’d given you a few days ago when you’d gotten cold at the library and your own sweater had gotten soaking wet due to rain and your lack of an umbrella, those are your things, special and personal and entirely yours.

“ugh. the two of you are so boring,” liv moans dramatically, tipping her head back. “i hope you hang out more after this, but only if you tell me about it.”

you shrug and glance back across the rink. heeseung has shifted positions, his arms crossed over the railing and by some stroke of luck, he’s looking at you, looking otherworldly under the shifting blue and purple lights. he smiles softly, just a quick phantom of a grin, and the only think you can do is return it with that same gentleness and warmth.

“maybe,” you say, glancing over at liv and then back at heeseung. “i guess we’ll just have to see.”

a week later, you’re sitting in your dorm room on a friday night, finalizing edits for a midterm paper, when there’s a banging at your door fifteen minutes before ten.

“heyyy! let me innn!” liv’s voice is airy and slurred through the door, so you can already guess what she’s here for.

with a heavy sigh, you stand and make your way to the door, opening it and finding your big leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. she’s dressed in her usual party attire: ripped jeans, black tank top, dirty shoes reserved specifically for the sticky basement floors of frat houses. she’s holding a metal water bottle in her hands; you can only guess what she’s mixed in it tonight.

“what’s up, liv?” you ask, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe, even though you don’t need an answer. you hadn’t anticipated her being here, so you’re already decked out in your comfy night clothes, prepared for a night in only. 

“lambda is throwing a party and you’re going with me,” she says peppily, practically jumping up and throwing herself into your room.

“liv-“

she whips around on her heels to face you, eyes glowing in the soft gold of your fairy lights. “no fighting me on this. you’ve been working hard and you need a break. so you’re going to dress like the hot bitch you are and then we’re going to lambda.”

liv is rooted to the spot, though she sways a little on her feet, and makes it known without words that she is not moving until you get ready for this dumb frat party. eager to get her drunken glare off of you, you sigh and nod, closing the door behind you, shutting off your desk light, and moving towards your wardrobe, rifling through the hangers to find a proper outfit.

you’ve been to lambda rho’s house before and it is nothing to write home about… unless, of course, you’re talking about how absolutely filthy the basement is; they have the best sized basement out of all of the frats on campus, but you swear they have never done anything to clean the floor. the first time you went, you’d been having a great time drinking well-mixed jungle juice and dancing to the best songs of the 2010s when you noticed that every step you took sounded like velcro. the floor was so sticky that you were literally having to put pressure behind pulling your shoes from the concrete. it totally killed the vibe.

but the jungle juice and occasional jello shots are great, so you persevere. besides, lambda throws the best parties on campus and you’re clearly the person to trust on party hot takes since you only go back to frats you have a good time at (sorry, sigma pi).

plus, heeseung is in lambda rho and he has to be there since he’s the social chair and all, so… you note that out of the maybe five parties you’ve been to there since the beginning of the school year, you’ve never once seen him. granted, he’s only required to be at any parties hosted while he’s the social chairman, so maybe he just didn’t go to any last semester. or maybe he’s a wallflower like you, choosing to stand on the outskirts instead of in the center of attention.

lost in your haze of heeseung thoughts, you don’t really register that you’ve finished dressing and that liv has sat you down at your desk to fix your hair. somehow, while very much drunk, your big has an easy time styling it. she’s focused intensely on the task at hand, but also manages to carry on a one-sided conversation, not realizing that you’re not responding to her. but when she moves her hands from your head and sets them on the back of your chair, you’re amazed; she’s always been good at styling and fashion (hence why she’s been in charge of the homecoming student org dance and cheer competition every fall for the last two years), but you weren’t expecting her skills to be up to par while buzzed to hell and back.

“there we go, ready to wow heeseung,” liv says matter-of-factly, a proud look on her face. when you glare at her through the mirror, she smiles and shrugs lazily, reaching to grab her water bottle and phone from your desk. “what? he’ll be there tonight and i’ve heard through the grape vine that he might have a little crush on you, so…”

you whip around at her words, hands braced against the back of your chair. something like liquid anxiety prickles under your skin, sending goosebumps across your arms. liv is friends with just about everyone in greek life, so “the grape vine” could quite literally mean anybody, but who did she find that out from anyways? when did heeseung say anything like that? did he even actually say that or is she just deadset on shipping the two of you together until it either happens or falls through?

“what?”

she looks back at you over her shoulder, one hand resting on the doorknob and your dorm keys in the other. there’s a mischievous glint in her dark eyes and your heart drops; how did you get such a schemer as a big? “oh, yeah. i was hanging out at the lambda house the other night with yeonjun. you know? heeseung’s big? and he maybe mentioned something about it. why do you wanna know?”

she sidles back up to you, pulling you out of the chair by your shoulders. “do you maybe… i don’t know… like him back? why are you so nervous?”

you shake your head, trying to will the goosebumps on your arms and lightning in your veins away. you’ve claimed a million times over the last few weeks that there is nothing more going on between you and that boy, no matter how pretty or sweet you might think he is. heeseung is just a friend, someone you just so happened to click really well with and just so happened to plan a really fun event with. there’s nothing else to say about it or the way you get excited when his name shows up on your phone or how your day immediately gets better when he walks up to you at the library without texting you first, your favorite snack and coffee in hand and a smile on his face.

there’s nothing there to unpack. you think.

“i’m not nervous. and i bet yeonjun just misheard heeseung. the two of us are just friends. i’ve told you that a million times and i’m sure he’s said the same thing.”

liv just laughs and ushers you towards the door. “okay, okay… sure, sweetheart. let’s get over there before they run out of alcohol.”

jay, the self-appointed dj for every lambda rho party, is blasting year 3000 by the jonas brothers when you and liv arrive in the basement. there’s already a large group of bodies on the dance floor, but the bar area is still pretty crowded and getting worse. liv links her arm with yours so that you won’t get separated, even though there’s no chance of you getting lost or anything.

the two of you make your way towards the bar where yeonjun is “bartending,” a term he insists on using despite the fact that all he does is pour cups of vibrant red jungle juice. blonde hair hangs over his forehead and his skin is glistening with sweat already, looking weirdly ethereal under the colorful lights that fill the room. when he sets eyes on you and liv, he smiles brightly and leans against the bartop.

“hey, you two! glad you finally showed up!” he shouts over the music. “jungle juice?”

liv nods enthusiastically, mimicking his posture and crossing her arms on top of the counter. “yes please! any chances you have jello shots tonight too?”

the boy looks around before he leans in closer to answer. “don’t tell anyone else, but i made some just for you two since you’re my favorite customers.”

liv rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep, but she’s smiling anyways. “we’re not customers, jun. you’re not even getting paid to do this. when are you gonna stop acting like you’re a real bartender, huh?”

he clenches his hand over his heart and stumbles backwards, feigning pain. “you wound me so, liv. i did something nice for you and this is how you repay me. i can’t believe this!”

but in the midst of his monologue, he bends over to open a mini fridge behind the bar and returns with a couple of jello shots. he tells you to take them here while he gets your drinks and hide them the best you can so nobody gets up in arms that he’s providing something outside of the night’s menu. he’s always been especially nice to you, mostly because of liv and his undying love for her (though platonic or romantic, you’ve never been exactly sure about), so it’s all you can do to thank him and listen to his pleads for secrecy regarding the contraband jello shots. when he’s back above bar, you switch off, him discreetly tossing the small cups in the trash.

liv, finally armed with her precious red solo cup, turns to talk to some other friends, leaving you and yeonjun alone. the music is so loud you can hardly keep your thoughts straight, which is great for keeping your mind off of what liv said earlier, but doesn’t last long when yeonjun leans in ever closer, his cologne enveloping you entirely.

“you should thank heeseung for the jello shots, by the way. i honestly hadn’t even thought to make some for you and liv because i was busy with other stuff, but he asked about making some since he knows they’re your favorite.”

your heart clenches a little at the idea that heeseung wanted to make sure that you had things you liked at his frat’s party. it’s nice to have someone looking out for small things like that, even if it means breaking a rule or two. yeonjun rests his hand on top of your head and pats gently, a knowing look in his eyes.

“listen, i know that you swear up and down the wall that you and him are just friends, but for what it’s worth, he likes you a lot. he just won’t say it. you know him. he’s kinda bad with words. it’s not really my place to make his confession for him, but just… you know. give him a chance.”

you nod dumbly and give him a half-baked smile when he pulls his hand off your head. a few girls walk up, vying for their own drinks, so you take that as your cue to walk away, red solo cup cradled in your hands. any hope of not thinking about heeseung lee has been completely undone by both liv and yeonjun. 

suddenly, you are far too sober.

two hours later, you’re five drinks in, only kept track of by the cups you have in your hand, and you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed. the lights are a little brighter, the music a little louder, liv’s arm hot and grounding around your shoulders. she’s completely gone, despite the fact that she’s only had three cups of jungle juice. she’s serenading you with dancing queen by abba, somehow getting every single word wrong. 

“fuck, i’m way too drunk for this,” she says, breaking off a line in the middle of the second verse. “i’ll sing for you next time. promise.”

you laugh and lean against her, shaking your head. “okay, livvie. sounds good.” you’re content to end your sentence there, but you have an increasing awareness of how hot it’s gotten. the amount of people packed into the basement, especially in the center of the dancefloor like this, has contributed greatly to the heat and you need some time to cool down before it makes you sick. “listen, ‘m gonna get some air. ‘t’s getting really hot.”

liv nods and hugs you to her, voice chipper but slurred heavily. “‘kay! i’ll see you in a few.” she lets you go and breaks out into the next song, somehow worse than dancing queen.

you slip out of the crowd, already feeling a little cooler now that you’ve escaped from the hot press of bodies. standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, you consider your options. there’s the open window that a cool breeze passes through or the door by yeonjun’s bar, which you know leads directly outside with a staircase up to the back deck. while you initially planned to be within arm’s reach for liv’s sake, your ears are starting to ring from the loud music and the choice is made for you.

you wave to yeonjun as you make your way towards the door. he pauses and leans over to ask you if you’re leaving, looking a little concerned, but you shake your head and tell him what you told liv. and then you tack on the information that she’s incredibly drunk, so he should watch out for her because knowing her, she’ll be tapping out sooner rather than later. he nods in understanding and lets you go, turning back to the two frat guys, jake and chan, that are standing at the bar.

the temperature difference between the basement and outside right now is jarring, but welcomed nonetheless. you carefully traverse the stairs, not quite confident in yourself to take them confidently, seeing as your sight is currently swimming a little and your head is light. getting to the top is a feat and you feel immediately better once you’re on the back deck.

you’re so out of it that you don’t realize you aren’t alone as you lean against the railing, reveling in the way the wood digs into your forearms and the chill bites at you through the sheer long sleeves of your black shirt. you’re still very much buzzed, but you feel a little more clear-headed now that you can hear yourself think.

the sound of your name startles you and you swear you jump ten feet in the air before you whip around, hand against your heart. heeseung is halfway out the back door, a cup in his hand and that deer caught in the headlights expression you’ve come to know well over the last month or so. 

“jesus, heeseung. you scared the shit out of me!” you say, catching your breath and leaning back against the railing.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he finishes stepping out of the house and onto the deck with you, the door swinging shut behind him. he’s so earnest in his apology that you can’t help but smile, dropping your hand and instead taking a sip from your drink that you carried out here with you.

“you have a habit of sneaking up on me, huh?”

he joins you at the railing, leaning against it the way you are, and raises his own cup to his lips (perfect and plush and pink… enough of that). he shrugs as he drinks, wincing when it goes down rougher than he expected. the liquid that sloshes against the side is not the same color as yours, so you can only assume that one of the guys gave him something a little stronger than whatever they threw together for the jungle juice.

“i guess so,” he says through a small cough. “i don’t mean to, if that makes it any better.”

you laugh a little, nudging him with your shoulder. “it’s not a big deal, if that makes you feel better. i think it’s kinda funny.”

heeseung smiles at that and nods, keeping his eyes trained on the drink in his cup. it’s only when you’re committing his side profile to drunken memory that you realize the blush that’s crept up the back of his neck onto his cheeks and the tip of his ears. except, that sober voice inside your head argues it could just be from the cold. 

but neither of you have been out long enough for that to be the case. it’s not even that cold out here, just a little bit chilly. drunk you is having sneaking suspicions, ones that sober you would never entertain, and this is the first time you’re seeing heeseung at one of his frat’s parties, so you might as well take advantage of it all as much as you can.

“yeonjun told me what you did… the jello shots for me and liv, i mean,” you clarify the second you realize how the first sentence sounds without context. “thanks. i didn’t think you were really paying attention to that kind of stuff.”

heeseung turns his head to look at you, eyes a little wide but that soft, perfect smile offsets it nicely. he looks a little surprised that you found out about it, but not upset that yeonjun mentioned it.

“well… i mean, of course i do. that’s kinda… what i do, you know?”

he’s beating around the bush. yeonjun was right; heeseung never talks about his feelings and he sure as hell won’t offer you the words you’re waiting to hear right now. so, drunk you reasons, why is the only way to confess through words? he’s shown you how much he cares, he’s been doing it for weeks now. maybe you were suppressing your own feelings to keep liv off your back about it all, but in doing so, you’ve been diminishing heeseung’s own attempts at telling you. 

this whole thing with him has never been simply friends. love at first sight feels a little much, but you certainly have something between you and you have for weeks on end at this point. maybe it’s time to reward this beautiful boy for being so patient with you.

just as he’s beginning to turn his head away to look back towards the house, you set your cup on the railing and capture his face in your hands. there’s no moment for either of you to process what’s happening, just that one minute there’s a platonic amount of distance between you and the next, your lips are on his and it is warm and unpracticed and still unbelievably perfect. heeseung goes pliant and soft under your touch, his free hand resting gently on the small of your back. his fingers curl gently into your shirt, tethering himself to you. his other hand is still grasping his solo cup and you find yourself wishing he’d just drop the damn thing, even if it means the both of your shoes get soaked in whatever he’d been served (whiskey, you’d guess, from the smokey taste on his tongue).

he’s the first to pull away, eyes still closed for moments after. his breaths come shallow and his cheeks have gone impossibly red, his hand still against your back. you study him from this angle, closer than you’ve ever been, and somehow, you’re finding him prettier than ever before. maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the sudden lovesickness for him, but you don’t care because you finally kissed heeseung lee and left him breathless.

“what- um… what was that for?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering open. his pupils are blown wide and awestruck (you think that’s the right word in your jungle juice induced haze).

you shrug, inching yourself a little closer towards him. he turns to meet you so your bodies run parallel to each other and finally sets his offending cup on the railing next to yours. “got tired waiting for you t’make a move.”

he makes a sound in the back of his throat and turns his head to look elsewhere, as if looking at you might make him drop dead. any doubt you had from earlier in the night that he’d told yeonjun that he liked you is swept away in a single moment; he can deny it all he wants now, but you already know the truth, so what’s the point?

“liv told me that she heard through the grape vine that you liked me…” you say softly, voice trailing off into the muffled sounds of a kesha song blasting in the basement. “is that… true?”

you watch as he draws a deep breath, squeezes his eyes closed, steels himself for whatever answer he’s about to give. with all your liquid courage now, confessing might not have been a big deal, but you know that if you’d been sober, it would be just as hard as this. but you swear you saw him drinking jungle juice down in the basement an hour and a half ago, and now he’s drinking something stronger, so he must be so naturally shy that not even alcohol can wipe it out.

finally, he lets his breath out and focuses his attention on you again, his eyes soft and pleading. don’t break my heart. please.

“yeah… yeah, i got a little drunk last weekend and told yeonjun that i thought i had feelings for you when he got me back to my dorm. i’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable or if it ruins our friendship. i j–”

you kiss him again, hot and heavy and full of longing and words you don’t dare voice because you’ve liked him for a long time too; you were just too afraid to admit it to yourself. but now he’s spilling his heart out and you’d rather walk barefoot through broken glass before you let him go on thinking for a second longer that his feelings aren’t reciprocated tenfold.

you step impossibly closer, your bodies pressed tight and heavy, the seam unbreakable. heeseung’s hands (both thank god) rest on your waist, holding you close. he bristles under your touch as you leave one hand on his shoulder and the other sneaks around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the fine, soft hair there. your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and his chest shudders against yours, some small, refined gasp of approval passing from his mouth to yours as he takes his turn to kiss the breath out of you.

it’s a tiny noise, barely noticeable, barely passing as a soft breathy moan. but you hear it and it’s embarrassingly enough to have your knees going a little weak. well, it’s not just that minuscule noise; it’s everything, it’s the way heeseung’s lips move against your own with an uncharacteristic amount of surety, the way his fingers have slipped under your shimmery black top (a “donation” from liv’s closet last homecoming), the way you can feel his body coming alive under your attention. if this is going where you think it’s going, the dreams you’ve been having about him at least once a week since you first met are about to come true.

heeseung is the first to break away again, but he looks less nervous than the first time. no, this time he looks flushed and tousled and so attractive it should be illegal. when he shifts his weight from his left to right foot, his body brushes against you and the heat of him is unmistakable. even if you couldn’t feel it, you can see the way his eyelids flutter and feel the way his chest shudders against yours. you can’t help yourself; you need him.

“come back to my dorm,” you whisper breathlessly, words manifesting physically in a cloud of fog. “please.”

the boy squeezes his eyes shut again, looks up towards the sky, draws that deep breath he’s so fond of right now. you almost back out, almost say it was a joke; he just confessed his feelings and you kissed twice, so maybe it’s all a little much for him. you really like him and you don’t want to scare him off; besides, what you’re feeling right now is nothing you can’t take care of on your own back in your dorm room. just as you’re about to tell him that he can say no, he’s seemingly talked himself up enough because he looks down at you, smiles, kisses you on his own accord, and then takes your hand.

“lead the way,” he says.

you and heeseung stop at least five times on the way back to your dorm room to makeout, giggling into each other’s mouths as he presses you against a tree on the greens or as you pull him into the pools of darkness between streetlamps. every moment has him growing more confident, more certain that this isn’t just a hookup or a dream.

somewhere along the way, you text liv and tell her that you’re heading home because you’re not feeling well. it’s not farfetched, seeing as you’d broken away from her in the first place because you were feeling too hot. what happened between your departure and when the text is sent is entirely irrelevant right now. what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and she’ll hear about it sooner rather than later anyways. 

it takes you maybe a full twenty minutes to reach your building, a feat considering how drunk you are and how obsessed you’ve been with heeseung for the last half hour. you fully expected it to take longer, but now, you stand under the golden glow of the entry to your dorm building, heeseung unlocking the door for you because you’re a little too gone right now and unwilling to take your hands off him,standing next to him, your arms hugging his free one while you lean your cheek against his shoulder. he fumbles with the key, muttering about how they should change to a keycard system instead, but he gets it eventually and you’re in.

after that, it’s practically a mad dash up to your dorm room on the third floor. your hand is twined tight around heeseung’s as you lead him up the stairs, too impatient to take the elevator right now. somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re glad that you took the time to clean your room today after class; heeseung will see a polished side of you, one that puts laundry away as soon as they’re out of the dryer, one that has glowing golden fairy lights above the window that gild your room in warmth, one that leaves books and binders stacked neatly in the shelf on your desk. not that he’ll be paying attention to any of it anyways, what with the way you can feel his cock pressing incessantly against you as you unlock your bedroom door, hot and straining.

agonizing seconds stretch into what feels like even more agonizing hours, but eventually, you get the door unlocked and guide him inside, stepping into the glow of your string lights that you’d left on before you left. you don’t even have to turn yourself around to look at him because he does it for you, turning you by your waist, pressing you fast against the back of the now-closed door.

his mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, no doubt tasting the fruit punch yeonjun had added to tonight’s jungle juice recipe concoction. his hands are on your waist, curling hot into your skin, black mesh of your shirt scratching against you. it’s nice, how respectful he’s being right now, still ever the gentleman he’s been for the last month, but you don’t want nice and respectful right now. you’ve had literal dreams about this since you met him, driving your attraction to him higher with every one; you want mean and messy and rough, and that’s what you’ll get if it’s the last thing you do.

so in a bid to urge him towards where you’re really hoping this night goes, you grab at one of his wrists and drag his hand up to your chest, pressing his palm against your breast. you can feel his breath hitch against you and you smile into the kiss because how can he still be so shy when he’s kissed the breath out of you at least five times in the last forty-five minutes? either way, he gives a tentative squeeze and it feels mind blowingly good; you’ve never been one to really care much about attention focused on your tits, but heeseung makes it feel like maybe you should.

you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, one of his hands kneading at your chest, the other slowly slipping under your top, rough fingertips drawing up and down the skin of your stomach, so far gone that you don’t notice the thigh he’s slotted between your legs until he grinds it up against you. it’s sudden and so well-earned, some much needed friction that you’ve been craving since that second kiss on the deck in lambda rho’s backyard. he does it a second time, the hard plane of his thigh coming up hard against your clit, and your knees buckle a little, dropping you further onto him. you moan sweetly into his mouth, tilting your head back against the door as the hand on your waist works your hips against him with a scary but uncharacteristic practiced certainty. he takes the absence of your mouth against his to trail kisses on your neck, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin, nipping and leaving love bites in his wake.

a well aimed grind of your hips, guided singularly by the boy in front of you, has you falling forward against his chest, your forehead pressed into the junction between his shoulder and neck. you keen against him in frustration, the crest rising but not breaking, no matter how hard to try to get it to.

“seung,” you cry against his skin, fingers curling tight into his sweater. “need more please.”

you almost sob in relief when you feel him nod against your neck, more so when you notice his own hips are stuttering against your leg that is bracketed by his. it’s enough to make you moan, the idea of him needing it just as much as you that he’s trying to hold himself back from getting off on your thigh too.

pressing your palms flat against his chest, you guide heeseung backwards in the direction of your bed (which you’re very suddenly glad you haven’t lofted). when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he makes quick work of kicking his shoes off and then scrambling up so that his back rests against the wall. you follow suit, toeing off your party shoes and crawling onto his lap where he’s waiting patiently, his eyes wide and the browns of his eyes drowned out by his pupils. he’s breathing hard, chest heaving.

he looks up at you as you situate yourself, his hands coming to rest on your waist again. the expression on his face is nothing short of worshipful, like you’re a deity here to wrench your well-earned respect from his hands. and he is clearly ready to hand it over without a single fight. he guides you down onto him and you follow his hands willingly, your thighs straddling his and your clothed cunt just barely grazing against his hard-on until you settle down completely in his lap, not a centimeter of distance between you. the friction and pressure have both of you gasping wordlessly and heeseung tugs desperately at your hips. you fall into him, arms around his neck and pulling him to meet you halfway, lips locked once more. you give a tentative roll of your hips and heeseung moans into your mouth, just the reaction you were anticipating.

“fuck,” he moans the second time you do it. “you’re so good.”

you’re already hot, seared through to the bone, but you feel yourself go even warmer under heeseung’s praise. you’ve imagined this a million times over the last few weeks, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. you kiss him harder, breathe him in deep to prove to yourself that this is real, that heeseung lee is under you right now, bucking his hips up into you and matching your movements, about to make you come just from a little bit of dry humping. it would be embarrassing if you weren’t both half-gone and ridiculously desperate.

you continue to rut against him, panting hot and heavy into his mouth as he swallows every single moan and whimper you let out just to return them tenfold, his hands working you over him with a rushed ease. every roll of your hips is met with his own presses upwards. he’s working you higher and higher with each move, closer to the precipice, and while you’ve never before thought you’d find yourself in a position like this, if heeseung makes you come without taking a single item of clothing off either of you, then so be it.

as if he’s read your thoughts, he presses you back and away from him. you open your eyes for the first time in minutes and take him in: messy hair, flushed cheeks, bruised lips. no wet dream could have ever prepared you for how beautiful he looks right now.

but no matter how pretty you think he is in this moment, the sudden absence of friction has you whining loudly, pitched high and tight. when you speak, your voice trembles out of frustration. “heeseung, why’d you stop?”

he sucks in a breath and moves to push at your shoulders some more. “don’t- fuck- don’t wanna come yet, not like this.”

if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would have giggled, but right now, you just feel exasperated. he’s right; you don’t want to come like this either, but you’d also come to terms with it because it would mean that you would at least be getting the release you’re so desperately craving. and that’s been ripped away from you, at least for the moment. but when he looks up at you again, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes still wide with need, you fold immediately.

“tell me what you want.” he’s practically begging you and it sends a thrill through you, liquid lightning straight to your heart. “please.”

and how can you deny him when he’s asked you so sweetly or when you’re just as needy as he is? at this point, whatever he’d offer, you would take gladly. he’s gazing at you now, waiting anxiously for an answer, not that you have a set one; you want him in any way he wants you, nothing else matters more than that. but you take in his swollen lips and lithe fingers and your mind is off to the races.

“i-” you start, but stumble over your words. you’d been incredibly forward when you’d kissed him first, but you’ve lost all of that fire now. you can’t bring yourself to ask for what you want, even though you’re certain he’d do anything you’d ask of him.

“c’mon,” he coaxes, fingers kneading into your shoulders to ground you. “whatever you want.”

the sound of his voice is earnest, nothing short of honest, and it makes you want to trust him more than anything. so you do. you draw in a steadying breath and curl your hands into his sweater as you work yourself up to it.

“will you-” another breath. “would you eat me ou-”

“yes,” he immediately answers. you don’t even get a chance to finish the question. “fuck. i thought you’d never ask.”

he moves his hands to cup your face and pulls you into him, kissing you sweetly, his nose bumping against yours. the minuscule break in sexual tension, while in most situations would be a mood killer, is nice because it just further cements that this isn’t some random one night stand; you want to see him every day for the rest of your life after this, if he’ll let you.

somewhere between the kiss and when he breaks away from you, he’s maneuvered you so that you’re laying back against your pillows. you’ve also managed to discard your shirt (thank god, the glitter and mesh combo was starting to irritate your skin something fierce) and he’s working to get your pants off, fingers fumbling with the button; it’s as frustrating as it is adorable and he swats your hands out of the way when you reach down to help him, deadset on doing it himself, which he does manage (eventually, after a few incredibly long moments). you help him shimmy down your jeans and panties by lifting your hips a little and then you are inarguably bare in front of him, a position you’d never imagined you would be in.

and maybe heeseung is a little wonderstruck too because for a few long seconds, he sits there and stares at you in all your naked glory (or nearly naked glory, seeing as you haven’t taken your bra off yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind). you’re starting to get a little bashful and have to nudge him with a bent knee to pull him out of his stupor. he’s impossibly red at the tips of his ears as he murmurs a sweet apology that comes accompanied by a “you’re just so pretty.”

before you can muster a reply, he’s situating himself between your legs, hands pressing softly against your inner thighs to draw them apart, set eyes on his real destination. you lift your head just a little bit, watching as his eyes widen as he takes all of you in, his breath hot against your folds. his fingers curl tight into the soft skin of your thighs and you whimper at the sting, equally painful as it is exhilarating. he makes an indistinguishable groan in the back of his throat before he’s completely devouring you.

plenty of your wet dreams about the boy between your legs right now have included this very scenario: his nose bumping carelessly against your clit, a suddenly confident tongue making a show of licking up all of your arousal, your thighs already trembling. but they never could have prepared you for the actual thing because he’s giving you what is quite possibly the best head you’ve ever had.

heeseung is eating you out like a man starved, it’s absolutely obscene. his tongue works you up fast, every little moan he lets out only contributing. somewhere in the midst, he says something that sounds like “you taste s’good,” but his words are drowned out by your own moans and the sound of his mouth working you over. every pass of his tongue over your folds is as close as you’ve ever gotten to heaven, but you’re lacking something to really shove you over that precipice; and now you know heeseung is so whipped he’ll do anything you ask him to.

“seung,” you gasp out breathlessly, untangling one hand from your comforter so you can wind your fingers into his hair. he looks up at you, doe eyes big and wide and glimmering with his eyebrows drawn together, a questioning look without pulling away to speak. you’re about to ask him when his nose bumps hard against your terribly sensitive clit and your word breaks off before the first syllable can even leave your lips. “fuck— seung, can you— can you add your fingers?”

you’re not quite used to asking for what you want, at least verbally; maybe it’s because any previous partners weren’t keen on getting you to verbalize, maybe it’s because they never particularly cared and just did what they thought was good. but heeseung is pliant and willing to please in any way he can, so you feel less embarrassed this time around because he’s made it entirely clear that your pleasure is his main priority.

he doesn’t nod, doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes again and goes back to work. you almost think he either didn’t hear you or is straight up ignoring you before you feel it. he pulls his hand from your right thigh slowly, letting his fingertips drag lightly against your skin; the menace is teasing you, where did that come from? but you don’t even have much time to internally complain about him holding out on you because he’s suddenly slipping two fingers into you, long, deft limbs that expertly seek out that spot inside you. he presses against it once, twice, three times, each one drawing out a whine from you.

it’s just what you need, the extra friction pushing you up that incline, closer and closer to the dropoff. when your back arches off the bed and your thighs close around his head, boxing him in against your pussy, heeseung knows he’s got you right where you want to be and then he doesn’t let up. it’s an onslaught of pressure, four different points of sensation, and you’re on the verge of tears. he’s making a complete mess of you, utilizing all he can to get you over that edge. you’re whining his name like it’s the only word you know, “yes” and “fuck” and “oh my god” getting lost in your slurred speech; he’d be evil incarnate if he denied you what you’re so beautifully begging for.

he presses incessantly at that spongy place inside you, nose bumping against your little bundle of nerves, moans growing more frequent, all while his tongue tries to catch every single drop of arousal. and then there you go, ecstasy taking over like liquid heat in your veins. his name sounds like pure euphoria on your tongue, mixed with your moans and whines. he thinks he could come just from this alone, your cum in his mouth and your thighs pressed tight around him, but he holds off because there’s only one place he wants to leave his release (if you’ll let him, that is).

“shit.” 

you sound fucked out, completely gone and heeseung swears he’s never heard anything sexier. you tug at his hair a little bit, feeling completely overstimulated but still so good, a shock to your system as he pulls his fingers out of you and lets his tongue work over you just a little bit longer (to make sure you’re clean, he reasons to himself). 

eventually, he does pull away and you have to fight the urge to whine again. his eyes are unfocused and glossed over, his chin practically dripping in your arousal. hell, his tongue darts out to get the last little bit of your cum at the corner of his lips and you nearly orgasm all over again.

“was it good?” he asks softly and you barely hold yourself back from laughing. he just made you come harder than any previous partner ever has, given you the best head in the world, and he’s asking you if it was good? he’s insane for thinking it was anything short of perfect.

but you don’t say that. you reach for his sweater, fingers curling tight into the cotton and tugging him down towards you. he catches himself by his hands, his arms bracketing you easily, before he completely crashes into you. there’s a long moment where he just stares down at you, lovestruck and pretty, before he lowers himself to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you moan a little bit, feeling a little embarrassed, but one of his hands moves from its place on the mattress to cradle your cheek and that alone drives it away. 

one of your arms sneaks over his shoulder, your fingers tangling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, while the other sneaks under his sweater, the shirt he wears underneath until the tips of your fingers brush the soft, pliant skin of his stomach. you can feel the gentle ridges of abs and a small piece of you shivers with giddiness. regardless, you enjoy a few seconds of running your fingers over his stomach before you push a little more incessantly at the offending pieces of material. he takes it for what it is: a plea to get rid of the clothes. after all, it’s not fair that you’re almost entirely undressed and he hasn’t taken a single article off.

you watch dazedly as heeseung sits back onto his heels, your eyes following his arms as he crosses them over himself, grasps at the hems, pulling them over his torso, his arms, his head before they land haphazardly on the floor next to your bed. every inch revealed to you makes your mouth water, his skin taut and soft and glowing in your fairy lights. you can’t help but remind yourself that dreams and an overactive imagination could never live up to the real thing because he’s very much the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

you’re entirely prepared to continue your makeout session, but heeseung seems to have other ideas because once his tops are discarded, he begins making work of his jeans. you make a soft noise in the back of your throat when you realize what he’s doing and he looks up at you, fingers stilling at his belt, his eyes wide.

“is something wrong?”

he sounds so sincere, it kind of makes you want to cry. but you shake your head earnestly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at him better. “no, no! everything is fine. i guess i just wasn’t expecting you to take your pants off so soon.”

he quirks an eyebrow at you and dons that pretty little smile of his, teasing but not really. “well, you’re almost completely undressed. figured it was only right that i do the same, y’know?”

and you laugh a little because it’s true and because he’s just so cute, he laughs too, soft and quiet. you generally think sleeping with someone is fun, but you’ve never had as much fun as you are right now. maybe it’s because it’s with heeseung and you like him so much already, so the playfulness comes easy; it doesn’t feel tense the way it has with others.

so you watch him handle his belt, the button on his jeans, the zipper. you watch, mouth watering once more, as he slips out of them, leaving his boxers, which have a dark wet patch on them. the sight alone would make you groan, but you can see the outline of his cock and you almost lose it completely. so you decide to resume the impatient act because you are still very much so; as cute as the playful routine is, you haven’t forgotten the exhilarating rush of trying to get to your dorm as fast as possible and the unpracticed fumbling that’s followed since then.

you reach for him and he doesn’t hesitate, letting you pull him on top of you by his shoulders, fitting your mouths together in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongues. your hands are in his hair again, his own slide underneath you to make work of your bra, unclasping it and then pulling the straps away from your shoulders, down your arms, making you let go of him for a quick few seconds so that he can pull it off completely and toss it god knows where in your room.

you’re distantly aware that you’re entirely bare to him now, but his mouth is working at your throat, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your neck (he is strangely good at distracting you, you’re learning), so you don’t feel as shy as you did just a handful of minutes ago. either way, he’s sucking hickies into your shoulders, your collarbones, any skin that has a little bit of give to it that lets him leave love bites in his wake. so lost in the haze, you realize a little too late that he’s working his way towards your chest, but it doesn’t even matter, not when he has one hand kneading at one and his mouth at the other, tracing lines over your skin to quell the sting of each pinch, each little nip of teeth. your nipples pebble under his attention and while this never usually does much for you, you still find yourself getting antsy because it’s heeseung. everything he’s done for weeks has gotten you worked up, why would that stop now?

it doesn’t help that he’s grinding against you, his hips canting against your own for any semblance of friction. your arousal is no doubt contributing to the wet patch on his boxers and the idea of it almost has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. his cock feels hot and heavy against your folds, the head bumping against your clit, and all of it feels so delicious that you let out a crisp, high whine, twining your fingers into heeseung’s soft hair and tugging gently.

he pulls himself away from your chest and when you look at him, you almost moan. his lips are swollen, slick with spit, and his gaze has gone misty. he looks at you expectantly, blinking slow and lips pouted as he waits. you’re not even sure what you want from him right now, at least nothing specific because you want everything from him. you’re about to tell him to go back to doing what he was originally because it did feel good, but then he lands a particularly well-timed grind against you and you’re gasping.

“fuck,” you whimper, tossing your head back a little. your fingers tighten in his hair and from somewhere south of you, he laughs a little, light and easy and airy.

“that what you want from me?” he questions, pulling himself up over you, catching your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. in any other situation, it might come off as intimidating and teasing, but heeseung is all doe-eyed and halfway to heaven right now, so it comes off more desperate to please than anything. either way, you nod. “all you had to do was ask. you know that.”

you nod and pull him down to kiss you by the fingers you have twisted in his hair. he groans against you, moving his hand from your chin to your jaw, angling you just so. somewhere in the kiss, you murmur a soft, “seung, i want you,” and he groans a little, nodding against you. he pulls away and you chase after him, but he’s sitting up, moving lightning quick to get his boxers off, abandoned somewhere on the linoleum floor with everything else.

and then it hits you that you’re both completely bare. you lean back on your elbows, looking him over once more, though your focus lingers mostly on the skin newly revealed to you. his thighs are toned and sturdy, the skin plush, and while you’d love to stare at them a little bit more, your attention is quickly drawn to his dick. it’s big, the head an agitated red and leaking precum, and your mouth is watering at the thought of getting him in your position and giving him the best head of his life.

you actually start to move to do so, but heeseung anticipates it and moves quick, pressing you back into your mattress. his dark doe eyes are drowning in desire and you shudder under his gaze. he’s on you again instead, hips melded to yours in your nth kiss tonight. he’s got his weight rested on one elbow beside your head while his other arm is free to move around, his hand tracing from your shoulder, your chest, smoothing across your stomach. 

his fingers eventually land on your thigh, curling into the soft inner flesh, and he hikes it up around his waist before dropping his hand to his cock. his lips trail from your lips to your neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin as he jerks himself off. you toss your head back against your pillows, whimpering at every little graze of his teeth against your skin. 

but what’s really driving you crazy is the heat of him against you. the head of his cock bumps against your clit, this time with no fabric barrier separating them, and you’re not sure if heeseung is even meaning for the touch, but it has you feeling hot all over again, slick leaking out of you again. you’re getting impatient, heel pressing hard into his lower back and your fingernails biting into the flesh of his biceps.

“heeseung,” you whine out, canting your hips up against his; you hear him suck in a breath through clenched teeth, a hiss of air. “need you.”

he shivers against you, a teary whimper of “need you too” granted in return as he pulls his face from your neck so that he can watch you as he finally gets to what you’ve wanted since this whole thing started. on a short teasing streak, he taps the head of his cock against your clit and you whine, turning your head into your pillow and curling your fingers into his arms, which earns a laugh.

“stop playing,” you tell him, rolling your hips upwards and into him.

he hisses again and bites at his bottom lip, nodding. he slips from your clit to your entrance and even just the little shred of pressure you get has you wanting to moan out for him. but then he starts pressing in all the way, slipping into your cunt with ease and you are not prepared for just how full you feel. your back arches and he lets off a tempered moan, stifled through a lip bite. when he bottoms out, his hips flush with your own, you release a breath as you adjust to the size of him, which doesn’t take long.

“seung,” you drawl, grabbing his attention. “move please.”

and he does as you bid, pulling out before he thrusts back in. it takes a few moments for him to find a pace that works, but when he does, it’s perfect. his hips roll against yours delectably, the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shared moans filling the small dorm room. he’s shored up over you, one elbow pressed deep into the thin mattress holding him up, and when your eyes aren’t squeezed tight in ecstasy, you watch the way he bites his lip, furrows his eyebrows, shudders as you clench around him.

“god, you’re s’tight. feels so good,” he whimpers at one point, his head hanging over your own as he tries to keep a steady pace. his words are shattered, breaking off in the middle or slurred together, a verbal manifestation of how you physically feel.

one thrust hits that just right spot inside you and you can’t hold but moan loudly, back arching off the mattress and your head pressing into your pillows. heeseung inhales sharply above you as you clench tight around him and then, with you still keening, you feel him sit up, taking his warmth with him. his hands are on your hips seconds later and he’s angling you, doing everything in his power to replicate it again and again.

“fuck, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, one hand on your thigh and the other working deft fingers on your clit. he’s a quick learner it seems because all of it is coming together to whisk your orgasm closer, a wave of white heat washing over you. “saw you at my frat’s halloween party ‘nd thought you were so pretty. woulda come up t’you that night if i knew you felt this good.”

your breath hitches more than it has all night and you cant your hips upwards in an attempt to meet his thrusts. somewhere in the midst of your pleasure, you tell him you’re going to come and he nods fast, fingers going into overtime to get you there. that knot inside you winds up tight and then snaps like a rubber band stretched too thin, hot and fast. your pussy locks around his cock and then he’s there above you, bracing himself with his hand, to swallow the particularly sharp whine of his name you let out and any stray too-loud moans that might slip away and wake the neighbors (as if you haven’t already).

when your vision finally clears and your thighs stop trembling, his hips are still snapping into yours to seek his own release, pushing you into the territory of overstimulation, but any pain you have bleeds into pleasure until you can’t tell which is which; the only thoughts you can manage are that heeseung feels heavenly inside you that it’s almost blinding and you don’t know if you even really want him to stop. 

but his hips begin to stutter, his cock twitching against your fluttering walls, and you faintly register that he’s about to pull out of you. blindly, your hand searches for any part of him to pull him back over you, legs locking around his waist. he protests, some flurry of words about how he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (not a single one intelligible), while you whine and pull him towards you by his shoulder.

“wanna feel you, seung,” you say, a limp arm winding around him and inching him closer until your noses are brushing and you can feel his breath fanning across you, still smelling faintly of his alcohol from earlier. “don’t worry about it, ‘kay? y’said you’d do anything, so please. i wanna feel you s’bad.”

that seems to be enough to egg him on because he nods and you catch him in a messy kiss before he groans against your lips as he finally comes. he lands a few more sharp thrusts that have you whining, fucking his cum into you, before he finally falls still. his breath is hot on your shoulder as he recovers.

usually, once you’re done, your select partner of the night pulls out, maybe cleans you up, and then leaves. it’s been a while since you’ve had someone who wants to stay (at least, you hope heeseung wants to stay) and you’re not quite sure where to go from here. there hadn’t really been much discussion about where your relationship was going to lead after this, even with all of the lingering glances on campus and your impromptu study sessions at the library, so you’re worrying a little about what comes after.

stuck in your own head, you don’t even notice that heeseung has pulled his head from your shoulder and is looking at you until his thumb works your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth and then wipes away some of the sweat at your hairline. the furrow of his eyebrows carve deep lines into the space between them as he studies you, looking like an angel with the way the fairy lights strung up above him give him a faint golden halo.

“what’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, brushing his fingers across your cheek. it’s a wholly different energy than just a few minutes ago, but the change isn’t unwelcome.

you shrug, blinking up at him and reaching to push some of his hair out of his eyes, the strands matted to his forehead with sweat. “just wondering what we do now, i guess.”

heeseung’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles a little, his shoulders shaking with a breathy little laugh. you almost punch at his shoulder for laughing at you when he cranes his head down to kiss you gently, the first that isn’t rushed in some way. he nudges your nose with his when he pulls back just a little bit.

“can we worry about all the big stuff later?” he questions; you feel the words as much as you hear them, his lips barely brushing your own as he says them. “for now, how about we clean up first and then… i’m hungry. are you?”

it’s your turn to laugh, but you nod. you’re still a little drunk, your however many cups of jungle juice compared to his measly one whiskey.

“so we clean up and then go get taco bell? it’s, like, the only fast food place still open at this hour.”

“you do know that the line is gonna be insane, right? like, half of campus goes there after getting drunk.”

heeseung lets another quiet laugh loose and sits up, pulling you up with him and then into his lap, his dick still snug inside you. the feel of it doesn’t wind you up again like you thought it might, but it’s a nice reminder that he’s here, that this all actually happened. he rests a hand on your thigh and lets his thumb trace lines into the skin there absently.

“then i guess we’ll have time to talk about what you wanna do now,” he says sincerely, the smile on his face soft.

you have so many words you want to say, a million sentences tornadoing in your head right now, all jumbled up and lacking any sense of coherency. so instead, you cup his cheeks in your hands and return the kiss from just a few moments ago. he meets you halfway, all soft and pliant and giving, everything you could have dreamed up.

“wanna shower?” you ask when you pull away, giggling when he chases after you for another kiss. “feel like it might be a little more effective than a rag.”

the boy raises an eyebrow and eyes you suspiciously. “you tryin’ to go for a round two? because that’s what it sounds like right now.”

you push at his shoulders and laugh when he catches your wrists in his hands, pulling you into a third kiss. “wasn’t my intention, but i won’t turn down the idea.”

“i’ll think about it,” he responds as he taps at your hips and lifts you off of him. his seed starts to leak out with his cock no longer there to hold it in and you feel incomplete without him, but when he stands and offers you a hand to help you out of bed, suddenly the feeling of emptiness isn’t as oppressive.

you teeter across your room, opening the wardrobe to pull out the two towels you have and your shower caddy. heeseung accepts the towel you extend to him graciously, wrapping it around his waist. when you’re done securing your own towel, he’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand on the knob and the other reaching out towards you once you get close enough to him. and then you’re two people walking down the hall hand in hand, wrapped in matching pink towels towards the unisex bathroom. it’s a little unconventional, maybe, but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

liv probably would though, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. heeseung’s your little secret after all.

© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.