#and I'm only really talking about the first here

[calumcxke]

NOTHING SAFE IS WORTH THE DRIVE - L.HS

pairing: playboy!heeseung x inexperienced!reader

summary: lee heeseung was an asshole. you had decided that. having to work with him on a group project made things a hundred times worse. but when a heart longing to experience love for the first time meets someone more than willing to give it, the line between irritation and something deeper starts to blur.

wc: 37.9k (i’m sorry)

warnings: reader is completely inexperienced, angst, miscommunication, reader falls too quickly and gets flustered very easily, kinda slow burn but not really, heeseung plays basketball but it’s barely mentioned, heeseung calls reader “princess” a lot, kissing, making out, features wonyoung (ive), yunjin (le sserafim), beomgyu (txt), sieun (stayc), reader cries a lot

smut warnings: dry humping, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, virginity loss

🎵: playlist

notes: it’s here!! i'm SO sorry this took so long, i was having issues with tumblr :( this was originally only supposed to be 20k words… idk what happened. but it’s a rollercoaster and i love it!!! have fun reading! <3

you had heard of him before you ever saw him. everyone knew his name- whispered in dorm hallways, watched at games, the life of the party. a reputation built on charm, late-night hookups, and the kind of confidence that made girls fall to his feet with every word he said. you never cared to pay him any mind. but today, you walked into class and found him sitting in your seat. lee heeseung. just your luck. you hesitated for half a second before walking up to him. he was hunched over his phone, tapping out a message, looking about as invested in being here as a teenager at their grandma’s bingo game. "that’s my seat." his eyes flicked up at you, slow and lazy, like you’d interrupted something important. he gave you a once-over- casual, unreadable- and then, just as plainly, looked back at his phone. "doesn’t have your name on it." you exhaled sharply. of course. "i’ve been sitting here all semester." "congrats." he didn’t even look at you this time. "find another spot." and just like that, every rumor, every complaint you’d heard about him settled into place. arrogant. entitled. exactly the kind of guy you had no patience for. fine. whatever. you weren’t about to argue with someone who clearly wasn’t worth the energy. wordlessy, you drop into the seat beside him, pull out your notebook, and act like he doesn’t exist. he didn’t pay you any mind after that, instead shifting so he was leaned back against the seat, his feet kicked out in front of him. you wondered what made heeseung so popular with the ladies. sure, he was attractive. that much was undeniable. sadly. but you had barely had a ten second interaction with him, and he had already managed to piss you off. you bit the inside of your cheek, holding back a sigh as you waited for the professor to show up. the universe had to have been out for you today. you woke up late, you’re out of your go-to breakfast bars, and you’re sitting next to lee heeseung in class. you were silently praying nothing worse could happen. you hadn’t signed up for this. you were just trying to get through this class and move on with your day. but here you were, next to the campus playboy himself, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously, the guy who had a different girl on his arm every weekend. you tried not to look over at him. you really did. but he practically radiated attention. his messy hair fell perfectly in place, and his broad shoulders took up way too much space for someone who was so annoying. heeseung wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel his presence next to you, and it was somehow more distracting than if he had been talking to you. the way his fingers tapped on the desk, the faint cologne smell that wafted over to you, even the way his shoes shifted against the floor- it was like he was intentionally making everything around him more noticeable. you hated how easily he commanded the room. you hated that even now, you were aware of him more than anyone else. and of course, the universe had to pick today to make you sit right next to him. of course, it had to be this class, the one you hated the most. the one you dreaded attending every single day. you were so deep in thought that you barely noticed when your professor- dr. kim- walked in, snapping you out of your spiral. he glanced up from his notes, then scanned the room with a smile. “alright, everyone,” dr. kim began, “i’ve got the group project assignments here. please try to work well with your partners, and don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.” your eyes widened slightly at his words, gulping as your eyes flickered down to your notebook. group project? there had been no mention of this before. or maybe there was, and you just forgot.

  there was one thing about you. you hated group projects. they were the bane of your existence. you preferred to work alone, at your own pace, and not having to be stressed out by a freeloader or have awkward study sessions that consisted of deafening silence. "and for the final pair…" dr. kim’s voice broke through your haze, "y/n and heeseung." fuck. of course, the universe was never on your side. your eyes shot to him automatically, your stomach doing a flip that had nothing to do with excitement. his eyes flickered to meet yours, his expression unreadable. and then, a quirk of his lips and a tilt of his head. like he was observing you. you groaned internally, wishing for nothing more than for the floor to swallow you whole, turning your gaze back to your notebook. the professor was still talking, but all you could focus on was how you'd somehow ended up in this mess. you barely met this guy, he was an ass, and now you had to work on a project with him. “guess we better get used to each other, huh?” heeseung’s voice was low and casual, breaking the silence between you two. you forced a smile, nodding at him, “i guess.” you were already dreading the next few weeks. you sat in silence for the rest of the class. he didn’t speak to you, and you didn’t speak to him. you wondered if things would’ve gone differently if your morning had gone better, or if heeseung hadn’t been such an asshole. you couldn’t wait to tell wonyoung and yunjin about how shitty your day was already. as dr. kim wrapped up, you sat there, wondering just how you were going to survive this. there was no way to escape the fact that you were going to have to work with heeseung. you only hoped you’d survive it with your sanity intact. he had already proved just how arrogant he could be. the moment dr. kim dismisses class, you’re up out of your seat, dying to get out of this hell-sent class and to the comfort of your go-to café with your friends. you’re so close to the door when you hear his voice- smooth and casual, like he owns the place. “hey, y/n,” heeseung calls, and you freeze, your hand still on the strap of your bag. you turn to face him, trying to hide the frustration written all over your face. “yeah?” you reply, fighting to keep your tone neutral, but he can hear the hint of annoyance in it anyway. he flashes that signature smirk of his, leaning casually against the desk like he owns the whole room. “we’re gonna need to exchange numbers for the project,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “so we can work around my basketball stuff, y’know? i can’t really be falling behind.” you feel your eye twitch. of course anything other than class would be more important to him. the star player of the basketball team is unable to commit to a school project. you push the annoyance aside, instead reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your phone. “sure,” you mutter, handing it to him after opening the phone app. you can’t help but notice how his fingers brush against yours, the touch sending a small chill through you. he taps a few things into your phone before handing it back. “i’ll text you later,” he says, his smile a little too knowing. you can already feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of letting him see it. you nod curtly and turn on your heels, heading straight out the door.

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“and then i woke up late! nothing is working out today!” you whisper-shout, dramatically letting your head fall into your hands as wonyoung watches you with a smile, yunjin scrolling on her phone and only halfway listening to your angry rant. “so, how’s that class going?” wonyoung asks, her tone casual as she stirs her drink. “you still surviving?” you had told them how much you hated your history class, practically having a complaint about something every time you attended it. “barely,” you mumble, finally lifting your head from your hands. “we got assigned group projects today.” wonyoung puffs out a breath of air, squinting her eyes. “brutal. who’d you get paired with?” you glance at her, your face blank, silently hoping she can see the despair in your eyes as you groan, throwing your head back in annoyance before mumbling, “lee heeseung.” you hear yunjin gasp slightly, looking back to see her finally staring at you with wide eyes before slamming her phone down on the table. “wait… heeseung?” she asks, a disbelieving scoff slipping past her lips. “as in the heeseung who’s like… the playboy basketball player?” you nod slowly, suddenly feeling way more nervous than you’d like to admit, “yep. that heeseung.” wonyoung laughs softly, pushing your shoulder with her arm. “no way. the universe really hates you, doesn’t it?” you glare at her, flipping her off with an eye roll, “it’s not funny. i’m gonna slam my head into the nearest wall.” “let’s not do that,” yunjin shakes her head, placing her chin on her palm as she tilts her head at you, “what’s the big deal, anyway? he’s just a player.” you sigh, playing with the rim of your cup while shaking your head, “he was an absolute ass this morning. it was like… the worst first impression of anyone i’ve ever had. i actually can’t deal with that for a whole project on top of the class already being a shithole.” wonyoung leans back in her chair slightly, looking at you with an amused smile. “he can’t be that bad. maybe you’re just having a bad day and he happened to rub you the wrong way.” you roll your eyes, but her words don’t make you feel any better. “yeah, sure.” “plus,” yunjin adds, leaning forward with a smirk, “maybe you can have some fun. i mean, make the most of it. you’re working with lee heeseung. most girls would kill to be in your spot.” you stare at them both, you lips parted in slight disbelief.  “yeah, well they can have him.” the two girls smile at you, clearly more entertained by your suffering and how overdramatic you were. you bring up another topic, eager to get the attention off of you and your project from hell, instead shifting the focus to yunjin’s project in music theory.

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wonyoung was wrong. horribly wrong. heeseung was that bad. you check your phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, the glowing screen mocking you with the time. heeseung was supposed to be here half an hour ago. thirty whole minutes. you sigh, your fingers tightening around your phone. you had already texted him- a simple, are you still coming?- but it was staring back at you with “delivered” right under it. your fingers tap against the table impatiently as you stare down at the open laptop in front of you. the library is quieter than usual, the hum of low voices and the occasional rustle of pages filling the space. you consider packing up and leaving, your hands beginning to collect the pencils and highlighters you had set out around you. “you’re pretty dedicated to this, aren’t you?” you don’t even need to look up to know who it is. finally. slowly, you lift your gaze, leveling heeseung with an unimpressed stare. he’s standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, looking completely unbothered. like he hasn’t just left you waiting for half an hour. “you’re half an hour late,” you deadpan. heeseung grins, like he finds your irritation amusing. “technicalities.” you scoff, shaking your head. “you said we’d meet at six.” “yeah, and i meant it,” he says, smirking at the way you roll your eyes. “it’s just that… time is a social construct.” is he fucking serious. you gape at him, your eyebrows furrowed. “are you seriously trying to use philosophy as an excuse?” “would you rather me lie?” he asks, finally sitting, slinging his backpack onto the table. “i’d prefer you actually care about this project. it’s a huge part of our grade, heeseung.” he waves a dismissive hand, pulling his laptop out of his backpack. “relax, princess. i’m here now, aren’t i?” you gulp at the nickname, turning your head back to your laptop to open up the assignment. “barely,” you mumble. heeseung chuckles, enjoying your annoyance. “fine. i had practice, it ran later than expected.” “that’s all you had to say,” you reply, your eyes flickering up to meet his, “and a text would’ve been nice.”

“can’t really text when i’m on the court, princess.” he shoots back, tilting his head with a smile. you exhale sharply, already regretting ever agreeing to meet with him. “can we just start? we’re already behind schedule.” luckily, he agrees, his eyes drifting to his own laptop. you sigh, your own attention drifting back to your laptop. all you can do is hope that things begin to go smoother than this at some point. because right now, you’re considering slamming your head into your laptop or the table. you try to focus, you really do. but it’s hard when every few minutes, heeseung is moving. drumming his fingers against the table, shifting in his seat, clicking his pen as he reads articles on his computer. finally, you snap, your eyes looking up at him from your screen. “are you always this restless, or do you just have an allergy to being productive?” heeseung blinks at you, lips quirking up like he finds your irritation entertaining. “nah, i’m just bored. this class is stupid.” “why are you like this?” you roll your eyes, glaring at him. “even if this class is stupid, it’s still an important project.” “like what?” he tilts his head, all faux innocence, completely ignoring your second statement. “charming? fun to be around?” you scoff. “you were late. plus you were a dick this morning.” heeseung chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “c’mon, princess. loosen up a bit. you’re making a big deal over nothing.” “look, i had a shitty day. you’re not making it any better,” you mutter, scoffing again. a voice in the back of your head wonders if you’ve broken the world record for scoffing this much in five minutes. heeseung leans forward, resting his chin on one hand. “i’m sorry. you know… i’m pretty good at relieving stress.” your jaw drops. “excuse me?” you clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his words have a blush creeping up your cheeks, instead turning your attention back to your laptop. “just focus on your work, heeseung. we need to plan out who’s gonna do what part.” you don’t miss how he tilts his head, a knowing smile on his lips as he clicks his tongue, nodding. “alright. just remember we have to work around my schedule.” you let out a groan, your head rolling back as you look back towards him. “heeseung!” he only laughs in response, shaking his head at how you get embarrassed when other students give you dirty glares. “sorry,” you mumble softly, your eyes glaring at him. “focus.” an hour later, you guys had made relatively good progress. you had divided tasks, and heeseung had done his work, for the most part. he still found every opportunity to get on your nerves, but at least he did so while being productive. you both pack up in silence, swinging your bag over your shoulder. you spare him a glance, mumbling out a small, “bye, heeseung.”

just as you step outside, you hear the unmistakable sound of sneakers scuffing against the pavement behind you, “where you headed?” you turn your head slightly to see heeseung strolling up beside you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he looks down at you. “my dorm,” you reply, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder, “it’s late.” he nods, shrugging as he continues to walk next to you, “i’ll walk you.” you stop in your tracks, turning to face him with narrowed eyes. “why?” he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows slightly. “why not? i have nothing else to do.” “because…” you search for a logical reason, but there really seems to be none. you blurt out the only excuse that comes to mind. “it’s late.” he furrows his brows, falling in place beside you as you begin to walk again. “it’s 7:30.” you glance at him, shrugging. “that’s considered late for some people.” he smirks, tilting his head at you, an amused look on his face. “what if i just enjoy your company, princess?” your face heats at the nickname, and you roll your eyes, quickening your pace. “we barely know each other.” “well, i’d like to change that.” he keeps up effortlessly, long strides matching yours with ease. you scoff, trying to ignore the affect his words have on you. “i think you like to get on my nerves, heeseung.” he grins, nudging your shoulder lightly. “that too.” you sigh, glancing at him before looking straight ahead. but you don’t tell him to leave. maybe a part of you deep down enjoys the company. maybe you could allow for a part of yourself to feel wanted if the campus playboy was walking you back to your dorm. and if your heart stumbles a little when he walks just close enough for your arms to brush, you choose to ignore it. 

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the door clicks shut behind you, sealing you off from the rest of the world. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, pressing your back against the door as if that alone could ground you. it doesn’t. your mind is still running, replaying the moments heeseung’s arms brushed against yours, or the cocky smirks he sent your way, or the remarks he would make to get under your skin. with a frustrated groan, you push off the door and drop your bag onto your desk chair. you smush your cheeks with your hands, sighing, as if that will stop the warmth from creeping up your cheeks again. heeseung is nothing but trouble. you know that. everyone knows that. a playboy who knows how to charm his way into girls hearts with cocky words and athletic skills that has anyone swooning. and yet… your stomach twists. you shouldn’t like his attention. you shouldn’t feel special. heeseung flirts with everyone. that’s just how he was. so why was your stomach in knots? why was your mind replaying every interaction with him- no matter how insufferable he was? you collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you don’t know how to handle this. it’s not like you have experience. no boyfriend, no first kiss, hell, you haven’t even held hands with a guy romantically. the concept of flirting- especially with someone like heeseung, who’s it’s practically second nature to- is foreign to you. you don’t know whether you’re looking too deeply into things, or if there’s actually something there. you turn onto your side, hugging your pillow. reading too many romance novels had truly skewed your perception of love. this wasn’t a movie. the playboy wasn’t going to fall for the girl in class. this was reality, and things didn’t work like that. sadly. you’re overthinking it. reading too deeply into his words, his touches, his actions. but why does your heart speed up at the thought of him? you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping to turn off your overactive brain. but instead, you feel that same flutter in your chest every time you think about him. the sound of the door opening catches your attention, glancing behind you to see yunjin entering the dorm. her presence relives you slightly, knowing you’ll have a distraction from the storm of confusion in your brain right now. she sends a smile your way, kicking off her shoes and walking towards you.

"what’s going on?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she surveys you curled up on your bed. "you look like you’re seconds away from ripping all your hair out.” you laugh breathlessly, flopping on your back so you can look at her without straining your neck. “i’m fine.” you watch as she smiles slightly, shaking her head and making her way to the edge of your bed, sitting down. “don’t lie. what is it?” you hesitate, knowing full well what’s bothering you. but you can’t exactly tell yunjin, can you? she knew you better than anyone, knew how insecure you were about having no experience. she would tell you to wake up, and not to fall for his playboy antics. so you shrug, pursing your lips before you speak. “it’s just school. stuff is piling up, and i’m behind on a few assignments. i’m just overwhelmed.” yunjin studies your face, not saying much. you can tell she doesn’t buy it, and for a second anxiety bubbles inside you at the thought that she knows, or that she’ll keep pushing. but she doesn’t. instead, she nods. “i get it. school’s been ass lately. you’re smart, though. you’ll figure it out.” you nod, appreciating the way she doesn’t pry. pushing yourself on your elbows so you’re sitting up, leaning against the headboard, you smile. “well, we’ll see if i actually make it through the semester this time.” she giggles, gesturing for you to move over as she cuddles up beside you. “if you don’t wanna talk about it, what about we watch tv? it could get your mind off of things. we could continue rewatching business proposal?” you smile, your eyes lighting up at the mention of the show. “please, i can’t live without my daily dose of hari and taemoo.” she laughs, turning on the tv and going to netflix. you feel a pang of guilt for lying to her, and her knowing that’s she’s lying. but yunjin is your closest friend, she won’t pressure you for answers, and knows when to stop digging. you shake your head slightly, pushing your anxieties to the back of your head. right now, you just need netflix and yunjin’s presence. everything else can come later.

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you tap your pen against the edge of your notebook, staring at the notes that made you want to rip your hair out. why you had to sit here and listen to your professor talk about smallpox for over an hour was unbeknownst to you. plus, you hadn’t slept well last night. you and yunjin were up until 2 a.m., and when you finally decided to sleep, you couldn’t. your mind kept racing, your bed felt too uncomfortable, the room felt too hot. you didn’t feel like yourself. and then he walked in. hands in his pockets, his backpack slung over one shoulder. he was late, of course he was. it should be annoying- it is annoying, he’s annoying- but for some reason, something in your chest tightens. your fingers curl around your pen, forcing your eyes back to your notebook. this was not happening. you’re just irritated. that’s all. he’s been an ass, he was late yesterday, he’s late today, and he walked in like he owns the place. while you’ve been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, writing down notes that are definitely going to be important for the project. but then he slides into the seat next to you, the smell of his cologne wafting your way as he clears his throat. “what’d i miss?” you turn, narrowing your eyes. “twenty minutes of lecture.” “no shit, sherlock.” he replies, pulling a notebook out of his bag. “mind sending me those notes later?” you shake your head with an eye roll, turning back to the front of the classroom. “this is why you need to show up on time.” “c‘mon, princess,” he mumbles, a hand reaching out to tug at the one of the legs of your chair, “help a guy out.” you gasp at the unexpected tug, turning to glare at him. “what the fuck? stop that.” he only tilts his head, shrugging with that same stupid smirk. your stomach flips again, but this time, you focus on the irritation bubbling inside you. this is exactly why you would never fall for heeseung. because he’s insufferable. he’s rude. he’s never on time. he uses flirting as an excuse to get out of everything, to get girls to bow at his feet. he chuckles, moving his hand away. “you’re annoyed.” “of course i am, heeseung. leave me alone.” you mutter, scoffing as he only shakes his head playfully. “y/n. heeseung.” dr kim. speaks, your body tensing as you turn towards the front of the classroom, meeting your professor’s expectant eyes. “is this something important you would like to share with the class? or would you like to keep bothering everyone with your banter?” your cheeks immediately flush, your body running cold as all the heads in the classroom towards you two. you’ve never wanted the floor to swallow more than you did right now. you shake your head, your voice coming out quiet. “no sir, sorry about that.” heeseung says nothing, simply nodding his head. you were going to kill him. “alright, then. anyway, as i was saying…” dr. kim speaks, continuing on with the lesson like nothing happened as you sit there in humiliation.

“so…” he begins. “shut up.” you mumble back, your voice quiet as your eyes stay trained on your notebook, picking up your pen to continue writing down whatever nonsense your professor spills. you were pissed off now, all thoughts of entertaining the annoying boy sat next to you gone. you didn’t know if he had realized how embarrassed you actually were, but he didn’t push. you watched him shift in his seat so he was facing the front of the classroom out of your peripheral vision, also beginning to jot down notes. the rest of class drags on unbearably slow. you try to keep your focus on the lecture, but your mind buzzes with embarrassment, replaying the way dr. kim had called you both out in front of everyone. when class finally ends, you don’t waste a second in shoving your notebook into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, and making a beeline for the door. of course, you’re never quite quick enough. heeseung appears next to you, falling in step beside you once again. “you’re really gonna ignore me after that?” you scoff, refusing to look at him as you keep your gaze trained ahead. “that’s exactly what i’m gonna do.” you hear him laugh, one that shows he clearly finds you entertaining. “it wasn’t that bad.” you finally glance at him, an annoyed expression on your face. “we got called out in front of the entire class for arguing like little kids, heeseung.” “and?” he grins, nudging your arm. “it was kinda cute. no big deal.” you inhale sharply, turning away before he can catch the way your face heats up. “you are insufferable. not everyone is as popular as you, alright? i don’t appreciate that many eyes on me.” he hums, tilting his head, as if he’s acknowledging your words. “where are you headed, anyway?” “lunch,” you say automatically, before realizing your mistake. a smirk creeps into his lips, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “perfect. i’m hungry, too.” “no.” you blurt out, your eyes snapping to his. he feigns innocence. “no?” “you are not coming with me, heeseung. i’ve dealt with you enough today.” you clarify, trying to make your expression as serious as you can, looking to your front again. “why not?” he grins, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. “we’re partners, aren’t we? we need to work on our… chemistry.” you groan, rubbing your temples. maybe if you ignore him, he’ll take the hint. he does not take the hint. he continues to walk next to you, ignoring the stares of other girls wondering why heeseung is walking around with you.

so now, much to your dismay, you find yourself exiting the building with heeseung beside you, practically- no, literally- inviting himself to lunch. and as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, your stomach is in knots at the thought of spending more time with him. the walk is awfully quiet. heeseung doesn’t say a lot- much to your dismay. you wouldn’t say it’s peaceful, it was far from it. while heeseung may have been relaxed, just enjoying the walk, you on the other hand were losing it inside. caught between being annoyed at him or acknowledging whatever feeling was in your chest every time he was near. it wasn’t like you couldn’t pretend what the feeling was. you knew what a crush felt like. but you didn’t want to pay it any mind. how could you have a crush on lee heeseung? how could you fall for someone this quickly? you had to have set a new record for yourself. you decided it was just the fact that you were yearning for any kind of romantic attention, and heeseung was providing that… kinda. calling you ‘princess’ wasn’t exactly flirting. but you had never had this before, were you just expected to not be flustered? this feeling was treacherous, and you knew it. falling for the playboy was the last thing you wanted to do. you fidgeted with your hands, worries swirling around inside your head as you try to come up with an excuse that doesn’t make you seem like a touch-deprived college student. lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the incoming cyclist until it’s too late. before you can process what’s happening, a firm grip wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward just in time. your breath stutters, a small squeak leaving you as you crash into something- someone. the scent of his cologne is suddenly overwhelming, your hands instinctively grabbing onto his hoodie to ground yourself. his arm is still around you, his body warm against yours, his grip on your wrist loosening, but not completely letting go. your heart pounds in your chest, and you don’t know if it’s from almost getting run over or him. you can feel his breath fanning lightly against your temple, his chest moving as he breathes in. was he always this built? you knew heeseung was strong, but you had never touched him. “careful, princess,” he murmurs, voice lower than usual. “you trying to get yourself killed?” you blink up at him, your lips parting, but no words come out. not when he’s this close, not when his arm is splayed across your back, his hand still holding onto your wrist lightly. and that’s when it hits you. this is a crush. you like lee heeseung. you pull away quickly, trying to ignore the warmth lingering on your skin as you clear your throat. “i- i wasn’t paying attention.” you stutter out, refusing to meet his gaze. heeseung lets out a soft chuckle, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watches you, nodding lightly. “yeah, i noticed.” you scowl, turning on your heel and stomping toward the café, hoping he doesn’t see the way your ears burn. he keeps up with you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even when you don’t look at him. “so i don’t get a thank you?” you roll your eyes, trying to fight the blush climbing up your cheeks as you turn your head to the side, never realizing how interesting the road was. “thank you,” you mutter, your voice too quiet he almost didn’t hear. but he hums, and that’s enough for you to know he won’t push further… hopefully.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

it’s been a week. a week of trying to push away the way your heart speeds up whenever heeseung so much as looks at you. a week of acting like the casual touches and the teasing remarks don’t make your stomach flip. a week of trying to convince yourself you don’t like heeseung. a week of failing. now at lunch, you’re sat with wonyoung and yunjin, the conversation flowing easily between them- an annoying professor, a party next weekend, overdue homework- but the words barely process. your eyes are trained on heeseung across the cafeteria. the same place he always sits, with his team and friends, but now you can’t stop looking. he’s leaned back in his chair, laughing at something one of his friends said. he looks beautiful. you can admire his sharp jawline, or the way his adam’s apple moves when he throws his head back, laughing at a joke. and for some stupid, down bad reason, you can’t tear your eyes away. you’re not even aware you’ve been staring until yunjin’s voice snaps you out of it. “you can’t be serious.” your head snaps towards her, blinking in confusion. “what happened?” she doesn’t say anything. instead she pursues her lips, tilting her chin slightly in heeseung direction with a quirk of her brow. “heeseung.” your stomach drops, your mouth opening and closing as she waits for an answer. “it’s not like that,” you blurt, suddenly finding your untouched lunch very interesting. yunjin doesn’t buy it. she crosses her arms, watching you closely. “then why are you staring at him like that? is this why you’ve been so out of it lately?” silence. the air feels too thick, your face burning hotter by the second. you have no good excuse. no answer to her question, because that means you would have to admit it out loud. and you weren’t ready to do that. you hated how obvious you were being, how you were acting like every other girl he’s wrapped around his finger before now. finally, wonyoung- who has been watching this exchange like it’s the most entertaining thing she’s seen all day- chimes in, "i wouldn’t blame you.” you turn to her, your eyebrows raising. “what?” she shrugs, stealing one of your fries before tossing it in her mouth. "i’m just saying, he’s hot. everyone knows that. you’ve been spending a lot of time with him because of your project. i mean… would it be the worst thing if something happened?” your eyes widen more- if that’s even possible. but before you can get any words out, yunjin is speaking. she looks at her like she’s lost her mind, shaking her head quickly. "are you insane? don’t encourage this.” "i’m just saying!" wonyoung laughs, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “you never know.” yunjin scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “no, we do know. heeseung is heeseung. an asshole.” she turns back to you, her expression softening slightly. "you just need to be careful.” it’s the same thing she always says. it’s everything that you’ve been telling yourself. you just nod, too embarrassed that they found out to even speak.

silence lingers between the three of you. you look on the food in front of you, the other students walking by, the ground. but you can feel their eyes on you, like they’re waiting for you to acknowledge their words- to say anything. wonyoung breaks the silence, picking at her nails, “i mean, it’s not like you have much experience- let me rephrase- you have no experience with this stuff.” your head snaps towards her, your jaw dropped. “what the fuck?” she smiles at you, shrugging. “i’m just pointing out the facts’ y/n. you get flustered by everything. you’re gonna fall too fast, especially with someone like him. that’s the reality for a romance virgin.” as if this moment wasn’t already embarrassing enough. your face burns, glaring at her. “a romance virgin? what the fuck does that even mean?” you go quiet, realizing you don’t have a comeback to her words, because as much as you hate it, she’s telling the truth. so you resort to sighing, grabbing a fry and plopping it in your mouth. “you guys are so annoying.” yunjin laughs, also stealing a fry from your plate. “we’re being realistic. and looking out for you.” “i don’t even like him,” you mumble, your mouth filled with a bite of food, wonyoung wincing at the sight. you only flip her off in response. she laughs, raising her eyebrows, “right. that’s why you were making heart eyes at him across the cafeteria. i’m surprised you didn’t raise up and start floating towards him.” you gape at her, scoffing as you shove her shoulder. “fuck off! i was not!” she doesn’t respond, but her and yunjin share a knowing look, smiles on their faces as they look back at you. you groan, pressing your hands against your face, “you guys suck. why are you torturing me?” yunjin speaks, her smile already telling you she’s about to make things worse, “just saying, do you really want heeseung to be your first everything?” you reach your hand over the table to smack her arm, practically glaring daggers at her as all she does is laugh. “yunjin! shut up!” she just shrugs, fighting back more laughs as you sulk in your chair, arms crossed against your chest. "what? i’m looking out for you. i mean, at least he’ll be good, he knows what he’s doing.” you decide to ignore her words, your cheeks burning as you look off to the side, sighing at how wonyoung laughs at her words. “i hate you,” you mumble, shaking your head. they only laugh more, wonyoung leaning over to give you a hug. you reciprocate, begrudgingly. you just want the floor to swallow you right now.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

you were late. to be fair, you weren’t that worried. heeseung was never on time to your study sessions. and, if anything, you were only going to be 5 minutes late. pushing open the door of the library, you’re greeted with the smell of books, the quiet sounds of footsteps, and fingers tapping keys quietly. time seems to slow in here, somehow. you like it. it’s so peaceful, everyone minding their own business. you stroll quietly, making your way to the study rooms on the side of the library. you had reserved one of the rooms, sending heeseung a text earlier in the day of which one to meet you at. you walk up to the door, the frosted glass frame with a big blue “5” staring back at you, before pushing it open. you’ll be able to set everything up, maybe get ahead a bit before you have to deal with him, go over things- but he’s already there. your brain short circuits, like all the thoughts you had disappeared. sitting in one of the chairs, leaned back with one leg stretched out and the other one bent. his hair is damp, which you assume is from practice, hanging in his eyes. a white wifebeater clings to his skin, leaving little to the imagination. his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his torso. you swear you’re going insane. your eyes flicker to the way his forearm flexes when he scrolls on his phone, your fingers tightening around the strap on your bag. it’s only then that you realize you’ve been staring. his eyes flicker up from his phone as his gaze locks on yours, the corner of his lip rising. “like what you see?” you swallow, shaking your head as you step further into the room, letting the door shut behind you. “i’m just surprised you’re actually here on time.” he only nods, completely seeing through your little act. he leans back more, raising his arms above his head. he groans, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his muscles flex, or the way his shirt lifts- just slightly, but enough for you to see a sliver of his skin, his abs highlighted by the fluorescent lights shining down on you two. you feel insane. your body heats up, taking a deep breath as you (reluctantly) tear your eyes away from him. you busy yourself with pulling everything you need out, trying to ignore heeseung’s gaze on you. the space suddenly feels too small, and you regret reserving a room. you can’t look at anyone else, can’t find a distraction outside of this room. you’re stuck. heeseung pulls out his own laptop, opening it and speaking, like it’s the most casual thing. “you were staring.” your breath hitches, but you play it off, glaring at him. “i told you, i was surprised you were here on time.” his brows lift in amusement. “that’s all?” you nod, eyes turning back to your screen as you pull up the project. “that’s all.” “alright,” he hums, but the smile doesn’t drop from his face. your face burns, trying to push all thoughts of how good he looked away as you try desperately to lock in, typing out anything that seems of significance. this was going to be a long study session.

that it was. you were nearing the hour and a half mark, your brain starting to jumble all the words you read, taking in too much information at once. if you had to read one more article about the impact of diseases and medicine on our society you were sure you were going to start slamming your head against the table. for once, heeseung wasn’t being a pain. no remarks or teasing. he was silent, actually doing his work. you were grateful for the change, considering how earlier had gone. luckily the tensions had died down, and you two hadn’t talked since you walked in. then, without warning, he leans in. your body tenses, his arm reaching past you to grab a pen that had rolled over to your side. the scent of his cologne filled your nose, along with his breath lightly fanning against your cheek. you swallowed, trying to keep your eyes trained on your laptop like nothing was wrong. but he notices. of course he does. his fingers hover over the pen, but he doesn’t grab it. his gaze flickers to you, the corner of his lip lifting up. “you good?” his voice is lower, the teasing lilt evident in his voice already. you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as you continue typing, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating, “yeah, i’m fine.” he tilts his head, just watching you. then he moves a bit closer, your breath hitching. “are you sure?” he asks again, smiling slightly. you nod again, too scared to even look his way as you feel your cheeks burning up. “you’re too close. that’s all.” he grins, unable to hide how amusing this is to him, “too close?” you nod, confirming his words with a quiet, “yeah.” he doesn’t back away, instead slowly dragging the pen towards himself as he continues. “what, never had a guy this close before?” you open your mouth to respond- but no words come out. it’s like you glitched, the words refusing to leave your lips as you try to come up with an excuse, an insult, anything to get the attention off of you right now. fuck. he picks up on it immediately. his grin falters slightly, his eyes flickering over your face to gauge your reaction. “you haven’t?” you feel stupid. your chest tightens, embarrassment flooding you. you turn your head quickly- too quickly. not realizing how close the two of you were, your nose brushes against his as you stutter out words. “that’s not- no- i mean-“ “oh my god.” he mumbles, leaning back in his chair. “heeseung.” you speak, your eyes pleading with him. he blinks, the smirk gone off his face and replaced with curiosity. “you’ve never been kissed before? actually?”

“heeseung-” you mumble, no other word leaving your lips as your ears heat up, your stomach twisting as he stares at you. his grin returns, just slightly, a small laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “that’s.. wow.” he doesn’t sound judgmental, more so surprised, but the damage was already done. “just drop it,” you mutter, suddenly feeling the need to get out of the room, closing your laptop and beginning to pack up. “that’s interesting,” he continues, slowly shutting his laptop as he continues to watch you, “you’re leaving?” you nod, trying to ignore the mortification you feel as you shove things into your backpack carelessly. “it’s already been an hour and a half.” you go to shove a pencil inside, but with how shaky your hands are, it slips through your fingers, landing on the table. “fuck,” you whisper, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear. he reaches for the pen, his fingers moving faster than yours as he twirls it in between his fingers, watching you. “you good?” you nod, holding out your hand for the pen, refusing to meet his eyes, “i’m fine. just- can i have it?” he hesitates, before slowly placing it in your palm. he doesn’t say anything, instead simply watching as you move your hand quickly, shoving the pen into your backpack, before quickly zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder. you can feel his gaze on you, turning on your heel and making a beeline for the door. “i’ll see you in class,” you mutter, the door shutting behind you as you walk out as quickly as your legs will take you, trying to hold back the flood of emotions and embarrassment swirling inside you.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

it felt like everything hit you the second you stepped through the door. the silence only heightened the sound of your pounding heartbeat in your ears. you kick off your shoes, your hands shaky as you let your backpack fall to the floor. your mind can’t stop replaying every interaction with heeseung earlier that day. but it felt like so much more than that. it was about the way you slipped up, your own body betraying you and the truth slipping out. it wasn’t like being inexperienced was a bad thing- you knew that. but you hated how everyone around you was able to talk about it so casually. while you fell behind and lived vicariously through romance novels and cheesy romcoms. for once, you wanted to know what it was like. and for all people that could’ve found out- heeseung had to know. the boy who had a new girl on his arm every week, who was no stranger to romance. it felt mocking. embarrassing. like the universe was making a joke of you, pointing at you and laughing. your breath catches in your throat, tears spilling down your cheeks before you can process it. you don’t stop them, you don’t react. you simply stand there, small sobs leaving you as the defeated feeling takes over. you’d tried to hard to not let this take over. to be okay with the fact that you hadn’t experienced love yet, it was no big deal. but it somehow hurt more knowing the one you liked was probably the most unattainable person on campus. you shuffle towards your bed, your feet barely leaving the ground until you reach the foot of your bed, letting yourself fall forward, straight into a pillow. your tears soak the fabric, your mind swirling with insecurities and thoughts of yearning. to know. to feel. to be loved. it feels so impossible at this point. like love- true love- will never find you. it felt like everything was boiling over, your body curling up as your tears grow more intense, louder sobs slipping from your lips as your hands grip the pillow. you didn’t even know how long you had been crying for. you cried until no more tears came out, the sobs transforming into quiet sniffles and labored breaths, until exhaustion took over your body and lulled your body into a peaceful sleep, safe from all the worries of the outside world.

but the peace didn’t last. the sound of the door opening stirs you awake, yunjin’s voice filling the apartment. your body feels too heavy, a dull pounding in your head and a lump in your throat still remain as you turn over slowly. you rub your eyes, trying your best to remove the evidence of your breakdown through your sleepy confusion. “-and he was so fucking hot, y/n. ugh, i wish i would’ve gone over to his place. and he told me he had a good time, and he wants to see me again!” she spills, kicking off her shoes and throwing her purse somewhere near the door, flailing her hands as she recounts all the details. she pauses as she turns to you, finally taking in the state you’re in. “were you asleep? sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up,” she laughs quietly, lowering her voice. you simply shake your head, still coming back to reality as you push yourself up. you speak, your voice scratchy and slurred from lingering exhaustion, “it’s fine. i shouldn’t have fallen asleep that early, anyway.” she walks over, sitting at the edge of your bed and looking at you, a smile on her lips before she takes in your puffy eyes. “you doing alright?” you swallow, pushing down the emotions that threaten to resurface. you nod, forcing a smile. “i’m good. just tired… i’ve had a lot of work lately.” she watches you, her head tilting like she doesn’t believe you. finally, a smile breaks out on her face as she lets herself fall back against your bed, turning her head to face you. “he was so perfect. like, usually i don’t like pisces men, but beomgyu? he was just.. fuck, y/n, i’m losing my mind.” you smile slightly at her lovesick rant, her words filled with a giddy happiness that only love can bring to you. you nod along to her words, her eyes lighting up when she recounts the best details. “are you going out again?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of your blanket when she stops talking, simply staring at your ceiling with a lovesick smile. that question breaks her out of the trance, turning to you with a grin. “fuck yeah! he asked me to go to his place next? you know what that means,” she trails off, wriggling her eyebrows before kicking her feet, covering her face with her hands as she squeals. you laugh, although deep down, you wish you could know what it feels like. the feeling of being desired, of being wanted. and as yunjin continues to ramble, expressive hands and wide eyes, you can’t push down the feeling that creeps up and surrounds you, making you feel like you’re locked inside a dark room that has no key, no door. like you’re falling behind while everyone races ahead.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“no.” the word leaves your lips before yunjin can finish her sentence, already knowing where it was going when she started with, “so, i was thinking…” you don’t look up from your laptop, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them, they’ll drop it. they never do. wonyoung groans, flopping backwards onto your bed before she rolls over on her stomach, resting her chin on her hands as she stares at you. “y/n, please. you literally never go out.” you finally spare her a glance, before looking back at your computer. “i’m busy.” yunjin crosses her arms, a huff of air leaving her. “you fucking liar. all you do is rot in bed. then you wonder why you get no action.” you glare at her, choosing to ignore her jab at your love- or lack thereof- life. “i enjoy the tranquility.” “god, you’re hopeless.” she sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed beside wonyoung’s sprawled out figure. “you need to have some fun for once.” “i do have fun,” you reply, finally shutting your laptop, “a party is not my idea of fun. it’s sweaty bodies, and drunk people, and people making out against walls.” “you’re so dramatic,” wonyoung laughs, her hands tugging lightly at your calves. “it’s one night. maybe something will happen.” you shake your head, ignoring the puppy dog eyes she sends you. “no, nothing will. i’ll go and hate it, want to kill myself, and wish i could be back in bed watching reruns of gossip girl.” yunjin groans, tossing her head back at your resilience. “i’m gonna kill you. you’re coming to this party. you need some action. that’s probably why you’ve been so… whatever you’ve been, lately.” you freeze, shaking your head lightly. “i don’t need action.” wonyoung giggles, turning her head to smile at yunjin. “you know, y/n, she has a point. don’t you think it’s time to put yourself out there?” you roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. “shut up.” but your stomach twists uncomfortably. they don’t mean it in a harmful way- to them it’s just teasing. they don’t know how much you hate having nothing, the fear of putting yourself out there. and after your breakdown a few nights ago, the topic felt heavier. more anxiety fills you as another thought creeps in. impossible to shake, growing larger the more you try to ignore it. if it’s a party, heeseung will be there. he always is. the thought of running into him after your last interaction makes your chest feel tight, your eyes flickering around the room. “i just don’t wanna go,” you mumble, trying your luck again. of course, they don’t listen. yunjin sends you a look, standing up and grabbing your arms, tugging you forward. you gasp, catching your balance before you tumble off your bed. “didn’t i already tell you you’re coming to this party? get up, loser.” you huff, reluctantly listening to her just this once. you toss your feet over the side of the bed, letting yunjin pull you to your feet. “you’re so lucky i love you guys,” you mutter, glaring at both of them. wonyoung squeals, practically flying off of your bed as she wraps you in a hug, jumping up and down. “finally! i’ve been waiting for this day forever!”

you only shake your head, trying to bite back a smile at her excitement. yunjin, on the other hand, has already made her way to your dresser, pulling random clothes out and tossing them over her shoulder. “okay,” she speaks, tossing a pair of shorts that are too short beside her, “we wanna make you look hot. but also not like you’re trying too hard, a good balance. heeseung’s gonna be there, right?” wonyoung laughs, making her way over to yunjin to look at the clothes she’s already picked out, holding them up to your body before nodding or shaking her head. your stomach, however, twists at the mention of his name. “i’m not trying to impress anyone,” you blurt, shaking your head as yunjin pulls out a tiny red dress, “i’m only going because you guys are forcing me.” she gives you a look, raising her eyebrows. “you realize we can see right through you, right? you act like we’re not your best friends. you want the guy, admit it.” you go silent, opting to roll your eyes at her words instead. she only laughs, tossing the red dress at you. “try that on.” “i’m not wearing this,” you mutter, holding it out in front of you.wonyoung whines, shaking your shoulders. “it’s a house party, girl. other people are going to be wearing so much worse. just try it.” you groan, reluctantly trying the dress on. it’s too tight, too short, showing off your body in ways you’re not used to. you look up, gauging the two girls’ reactions. yunjin tilts her head, analyzing you, before finally shaking her head. “no, i don’t think that’s very you,” she says, turning back to your closet. “you wanna look slutty, but like, fashion.” you furrow your eyebrows, almost wanting to laugh at how seriously they were taking this. “great explanation.”

wonyoung gasps, stopping both of you in your tracks. “yunjin, give me that shirt,” she exclaims, pointing to a black lace tube top yunjin is holding up. the lace wraps around itself, one edge falling to create an asymmetrical look. once yunjin hands it over, she grabs a black denim skirt off the floor, holding the items to your body as best she can. “yes. this is it,” she smiles, yunjin nodding beside her. “put this on. you’re gonna look so hot.” you can’t deny wonyoung’s words once you have the outfit on. it looks good, the pieces accentuating your body while not showing off too much. yunjin’s jaw drops slightly, nodding as you spin slowly. “i’m so in love with you.” you smile, shaking your head at her. wonyoung grabs a pair of black heeled-boots, the leather tight around your calves, with a platform that makes you at least 5 inches taller. yunjin nods, looking at wonyoung, “add a leather jacket.” once the whole outfit is assembled, you can’t deny it. you feel hot. you look hot. “you look amazing, y/n. heeseung’s one lucky guy.” wonyoung smiles, stepping up to you to adjust the top. you glare at her, an exasperated breath leaving you. “stop bringing him up. nothing has happened between us.” “yet,” yunjin says, a teasing smile on her lips. “oh, fuck off,” you laugh, flipping her off. you couldn’t help the feeling that settled in your stomach. was it anxiety? excitement? you couldn’t tell, but you knew this was going to be a long night. and maybe, deep down, a part of you wanted heeseung to see you in this outfit.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

you regretted coming the second you stepped through the door. music was blasting through the speakers, the volume combined with all the conversations happening almost unbearable. the smell of weed and alcohol invaded your senses almost immediately. people were everywhere you looked, crowded together. drinking, smoking, dancing, talking, making out. your feet slowed down, suddenly wanting to turn around and go back home. yunjin tugged your arm, forcing your feet to move again as she dragged you along, weaving through the mass of bodies, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. wonyoung was right. people were wearing much worse. you still felt out of place though. like people knew you didn’t normally dress like this. like people knew you were trying to look good just for this party. once the three of you stopped moving, wonyoung looked at you, immediately sensing your discomfort. “you’re fine. no one’s judging you, okay? everyone’s too caught up in their own thing here.” you only nodded in response, glancing around at everyone. “there’s… a lot of people here.” wonyoung laughs, finding your reactions cute. “yeah, that’s usually what it’s like at house parties.” the idea of willingly putting yourself in this environment weekly sent a chill down your spine. things like this weren’t your speed. though, sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to be an extrovert, to enjoy talking to others, spending your days socializing. wonyoung explains something to you, but you’re only halfway listening. your eyes are drifting around the party. looking for something, or someone. hoping to see his black hair in the crowd of people. a bit hard, when half the people here had black hair. “oh- there he is!” yunjin gasps, her words pulling you out of your trance as you look at her, raising your eyebrows. you follow her line of vision, nerves bubbling in you at the thought of actually seeing him- “beomgyu!” she smiles, turning to you and wonyoung with a cheesy grin. “i’m gonna go say hi. i’ll catch you guys in a bit?” “go get your man,” you smile, watching as she heads off, a pep in her step as gets closer to him. you turn back to wonyoung, unsure of what to do now that you were here.

“so, like, what do we do?” you ask, once again glancing around at the people around you. “talk to people. get a drink. find someone hot.” she nudges you at the last option, sending a teasing smile your way. “no.” your reply is immediate, shaking your head. “i’m not having any of my firsts at a random house party.” she sighs, throwing her head back before looking back at you. “you read too many romance novels.” you gape at her, your lips forming into a pout. “a girl can dream. let me wait for the one.” “well, looking like you do tonight,” she pauses, her eyes flickering up and down your figure, “i’m gonna be surprised if no one hits on you.” her sentence sends a hint of excitement through you, but you quickly shake your head, dismissing the feeling. “i’d rather someone not. that would just be awkward. i can’t talk to people.” she laughs, but she’s shaking her head. “this is exactly why you need to go out more. put yourself out there.” you don’t respond, your eyes flickering around the crowd of people once again, watching people's body language, and how they interact with one another. everyone looks so relaxed, simply enjoying the environment. “anyway,” wonyoung speaks, breaking the silence that settled between you two, “i’m gonna go get a drink. do you wanna come?” you shake your head, not feeling like navigating through the crowd of people once again, choosing to wait for wonyoung to get back. “no. it’s fine. i’ll wait.” “alright, do you want anything?” she continues, watching as you shake your head again, denying her offer. “i’ll be right back, then.” you watch as she walks off, weaving through the crowd and heading towards the kitchen. you lean back against the wall, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait calmly for wonyoung to return. she doesn’t. two minutes turn to five, which turns to ten, which turns to fifteen. people were starting to send you looks, wondering why you were standing around alone, with no drink. you felt out of place. no, you were out of place. you glance around, the nerves of everything becoming too overstimulating. you needed to get away from the crowds. slowly, you push through the crowd, making your way to the hallway. you slip past the people having conversations, and the couple making out against the wall. one door is cracked open, which you can only assume means it’s safe to enter. you wait outside for a bit, listening for if there’s any noises. it’s silent. you hesitate for a second, before finally pushing the door open. the room was empty, the quiet away from the loud voices instantly calming your nerves. you shut the door behind you, the noise of the party becoming even more muffled, feeling like a breath of fresh air.

you glanced around the room, your heart nearly stopping. heeseung was leaned against the wall, scrolling on his phone. could this night get any worse? he hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy scrolling on his phone. you gulped, feeling your face flush. you could turn around, you could leave the room. you should do that. but for some reason, your feet wouldn’t move. it was like they were planted into the ground. he lifted his gaze from his phone, locking eyes with you. you felt like a deer caught in headlights. his expression was unreadable, but he tilted his head slightly. a brief moment of silence passed between the two of you, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as he watched you. “y/n?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit surprised. “sorry,” you finally forced out, fidgeting with your fingers as your gaze drifts away from his, focusing on the wall instead. “i thought this room was empty.” he simply shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “too loud out there?” you nod, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other. this somehow felt more suffocating than the party did. “i didn’t mean to… bother you.” you mumble, turning around to head for the door. “you don’t have to leave,” he said, his voice quiet, your stomach fluttering at the sound, “i’m not doing anything. stay if you need a break. if you want.” you stand still, both choices seeming wrong. staying in the room with him felt like a mistake, but walking back out to the chaos of the party felt slightly worse. slowly, you nodded, turning around and stepping further into the room. “okay. uh, thanks.” you both stood there, not saying anything for a moment. you shifted your gaze around the room, your nerves palpable. and heeseung, of course, picked up on it. “this isn’t exactly your scene, is it, princess?” he asked, voice filled with that familiar teasing tone. you tried to ignore how the nickname had your heart doing somersaults, or how your face heated up. everything felt so much more elevated in the room. you swallowed, trying to push your nerves aside as you looked back at him. “uh, no, it’s not,” you mumble, almost wanting to laugh at how awkward you sounded. he hums, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards the bed, sitting on the edge. he looks at you expectantly, only laughing slightly when you raise your brows in response. “are you just gonna stand there the whole time?” your face flushes, suddenly feeling too embarrassed. your body moves before you realize it, getting closer to him. you can feel your heartbeat speeding up, his eyes watching you as you sit down next to him. you’re not an awkward distance away, but you made sure to put some space between the two of you. the room was quiet, except for the noise of your nervous breaths, your fingers fidgeting with each other.

“so,” he began, breaking the silence, “what’re you doing here, anyway?” you look at him, shrugging. “my friends dragged me along.” he hummed, tilting his head, “so then why are you in here?” this was humiliating. “one is talking to her date and another went to get drinks and didn’t come back,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the smile that crept up on his face. “damn, princess,” he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head lightly, “they ditched you?” “i mean, they’re more used to this environment. i wouldn’t wanna, like, hold them back from having fun,” you shrug, glancing down at your hands. “if you say so,” he responds, going quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “i just still don’t see why you would even come, considering, y’know..” your stomach drops. your eyes flicker up to his, raising your eyebrows slightly. “considering… what?” he tilts his head, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “you’ve never kissed anyone. you weren’t lying about that, right?” heat rises on your cheeks, the embarrassment that hits you suddenly making you feel sick, once again stuck in a room with heeseung and talking about this. “heeseung. i don’t wanna talk about that.” “why? it’s nothing to be ashamed about,” he replies with a shrug, leaning back against the pillows and playing with the hem of his shirt. “you ever had a boyfriend?” “heeseung.” you say, but his expression tells you he’s not letting this go anytime soon. you sigh, your voice quiet, the word coming out as a hushed whisper, “no.” he was quiet, and the more the silence dragged on, the more you felt like you wanted the floor to swallow you. the same humiliating feeling from before was slowly making its way back, the room feeling like it was closing in on you. and then, heeseung spoke. “you ever wonder what it’s like? to kiss someone?” he asks, and you almost want to laugh. “that’s a stupid question,” you blurt before you can stop it, listening to the way he laughs quietly. “sorry. had to make sure,” he replies, and this, for some reason, doesn’t feel as bad as last time did. it doesn’t feel like he’s judging you. more so, just asking questions. “of course i do. it’s kinda hard not to when all everyone talks about is their love lives,” you reply, finally opening up a bit. you don’t know why you’re telling him this much. you could’ve diverted the conversation, made him talk about something else, but you were opening up. you were trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling in your chest. from being in a room alone with heeseung, to discussing your desolate love life with him. it felt unnatural- it was unnatural. you were never one to open up to people easily, but it felt like he did it without trying (well, besides when he wouldn’t like a topic go).

“i could teach you,” he speaks, and your head snaps up to his so fast you’re surprised your neck didn’t break in the process. it felt like time stopped. you couldn’t hear the music outside, or the muffled voices. all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and the way your breathing picked up. heeseung continued to stare at you, his eyebrows raised slightly as he waited for an answer. “w-what?” you stutter out, trying to convince yourself you heard his words wrong, that you made it up, some kind of excuse. “i said i could teach you. you heard me,” he repeats his words, the corner of his lip lifting up again. your breath hitched. the silence was too loud, the two of you just staring at each other as you tried your hardest to process his words. “you’re joking, right?” you finally ask, your voice quiet, unsure. but he didn’t laugh. he only watched you, his voice dropping just a bit lower. “it’s not hard. if you want, i could teach you.” you sat, frozen. blinking out of whatever daze you were in since he spoke, your eyes flickering the the ground. heeseung- the playboy heeseung, the heeseung you liked- offering to be your first kiss. it didn’t feel right. it felt like the universe was trying to play a sick joke on you. like this would turn out to be too good to be true. you heard him laugh softly, and your eyes drifted back up to him. he seemed to be enjoying how flustered you were, how your brain was quite literally short circuiting. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to. it’s just an offer. but, if you want to, i’m right here.” you felt your heart speed up more at his words. your mind felt like it couldn’t process what was going on. what was the right choice here? one side of you felt like you should laugh it off, change the subject and act like the conversation never happened. continue to save your first kiss for something special. but on the other hand, this did feel special. you were curious. hell, you’ve been curious for the last 22 years. you were caught between forcing down your desires and enlightening them, finally understanding what you’ve been wondering about your whole life. finally being able to understand the conversations, the movie scenes, the books. your mouth opened, a protest about to leave your lips, but no words came out. your words got stuck, your true feelings not letting them leave. heeseung noticed your hesitation, pushing himself to sit up. he watched you, his voice getting softer, quieter. “come here,” he mumbled, his words making your stomach do flips. god, you wanted to slam your head against the wall. your heartbeat sped up, but you moved closer to him anyway, sitting so close your knees were pressed together. you didn’t know what you were doing, but you knew you didn’t wanna turn around and leave. not at this point. heeseung watched you, not reaching out until you had stopped moving. his hand reached up slowly, cautiously, gently cupping your jaw. his thumb brushed over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, the reality of what was happening sinking it. “you’re nervous,” he whispered, the words spoken like they were a secret just between the two of you. his breath fans across your face, further solidifying the reality of the distance between you two. you nodded, your breath shallow, unsure. you let your own eyes flicker to his lips before moving back to his eyes. you whispered, your voice shaky, “what if i’m bad?” he smiled, his thumb tracing your jaw as he shook his head. “don’t worry about that. just follow my lead.”

you nod, everything feeling like a haze. he leans in slowly, and before you can think too much about it, his lips are on yours. it felt like everything around you stopped. your eyes fluttered shut, your breath stuttering. his lips are soft, and you try to follow his movements as best you can. his touch is gentle, guiding you, taking a first experience from you. the outside world seems quiet, likes it’s just you and heeseung in this moment. he presses his lips a bit harder against yours, tilting your head just slightly. the feeling is all-consuming. overwhelming. you want more and want to get away all at the same time. but it feels nice. it feels like everything you’ve dreamed of. what the lead in a romance movie feels, what the books describe, how your friend’s eyes light up when they tell you about their first kiss with a new guy. he pulls away slowly, his hand still remaining on your jaw. your eyes flutter open, blinking a little, like you’re trying to ground yourself. his face was still so close to yours, your breaths mixing together. his expression was unreadable, and your heart sped up at the reality. “was that okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, barely above a whisper. heeseung stared at you for a moment, not saying anything. his eyes searched yours, his breath soft against your skin, his touch still so light. “yeah,” he mumbled, his eyes still flickering around your face, his thumb tracing your jaw again. “not bad, princess.” you nod, your mind in too much of a haze to mumble out exact words. you eyes flickered to his lips again, fighting the urge to lean in again, to feel the warmth of his lips against yours. but before you could think about it too much, your phone buzzed loudly against your lap, the ringing snapping you back to reality. you blink, still dazed, as you look down on at your phone, shaky hands turning it over, the name staring back at you. wonyoung. shit. you hesitated for a second, before answering the call, pressing the phone to your ear. “hello?” “where are you?” wonyoung’s voice came through, a bit hard to hear over the pounding music. “i came back to the spot you were at. i got caught up with some friends, i’m sorry.” you swallowed, your mind still in a haze. your gaze flickered to heeseung. he was already watching you, having had leaned back against the headboard. “it’s fine,” you mumble, words trailing off. your heartbeat still felt too loud, and your thoughts were jumbled and all over the place. “it’s- i’m just..” heeseung raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. he tilted his head, clearly amused by your inability to form a sentence right now. “hello?” wonyoung’s voice spoke again, pulling your attention back to her. “are you there?” “yeah! yeah, sorry,” you mumble, pursing your lips. “i’ll be right there.” “okay. i’ll see you soon.” she replied, the line going dead.

the room went silent, filled with nothing but the awkwardness swirling around the two of you. you were too afraid to meet his gaze, so you stare at your hands, before standing up slowly, placing your phone in your pocket. “um… i should go. i’ll see you around?” heeseung didn’t say anything, and you took that as your cue to just leave. you walked towards the door, trying to form a coherent thought as you reached for the doorknob. his voice finally cut through the quiet, making you stop in your tracks. “you know,” he began, his voice teasing, with a hint of something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, “you look nice tonight.” the words sent butterflies swirling in your stomach, closing your eyes as you tried to ground yourself. what was wrong with you? you didn’t turn around, too scared to meet his eyes. you couldn’t. so you only nodded, your voice shaky, “thank you.” you opened the door, stepping out and back into the party. it felt like you were snapped back to reality the second the loud music hit your ears, met with the sight of a swarm of people again as you pushed through the crowd. you tried to ignore the way your lips still tingled, or the way your cheeks heated up when you thought about his hand on your face, his breath so close to you, his lips against yours. you almost bumped into someone, muttering out a pathetic “sorry” as you corrected your path, finally catching a glimpse of yunjin and wonyoung standing together, talking about some random topic. wonyoung noticed you first, smiling and waving as she noticed you walking over. you wave back, forcing a smile as you join up with them. all you know is that you’re going crazy. you kissed heeseung. your first kiss. was it a mistake? did you make too irrational of a decision while being caught in the moment? your thoughts are interrupted by yunjin’s loud voice, pulling you back to the current moment, “you missed everything, y/n. i had so much to talk about. where were you, anyway?” you open your mouth, your eyes flickering between the two girls watching you with expectant stares. you should lie, make some kind of excuse to avert the attention from you, ask what yunjin had to talk about. but the thought of hiding your feelings from them more than you already are makes a sick feeling appear in your stomach. “i kissed heeseung.” the words are out before you even realize you said that. they stand there, unmoving before yunjin speaks, “you what?”

wonyoung only covers her mouth with her hand, a loud gasp leaving her lips as she looks between you and yunjin. you stare sheepishly at the two, no more words leaving your lips as you open and close your mouth, wonyoung finally forcing some words out. “bitch, are you serious?” the reality of everything feels like it’s hitting you all over again, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you look up, trying to form a sentence in your mind before you speak out loud. “i kissed heeseung. or, he kissed me. we kissed each other? i don’t know…” you cover your eyes with one of your hands, clenching your eyes shut. everything feels too surreal right now. yunjin blinks, shaking her head as she tries to make sense of the situation. “hold on, start from the beginning, please. what the fuck happened?” you laugh shakily, shrugging as words come spilling out, “i just- i needed a break from the party, so i went into what i thought was an empty room, but he was in there. he told me i could stay, and we started talking, and he brought up the fact that i’d never kissed anyone-“ wonyoung cuts you off, raising an eyebrow. “how did he know that?” you gulp, averting your eyes. “that’s a story for another time.” the two share a look, but don’t interrupt you again, letting you continue. “anyway, he said he could teach me… and, yeah,” you mumble, words getting quieter as you finish the story, finally looking back at the two. yunjin’s jaw is dropped, and she turns to wonyoung with a glare. “you left her alone for ten minutes and she kissed heeseung?” “i wanted a drink!” wonyoung defends herself, pointing at you, “i didn’t know she was gonna sneak off and make out with someone while i was gone.” your cheeks heat up, shaking your head quickly. “it wasn’t like that. it was just one kiss.” yunjin only laughs, giving you a hug. “well, congratulations. my baby is all grown up.” “oh, fuck off,” you mutter, but your arms wrap around her, fighting back a smile. “was it good?” wonyoung asks, your eyes widening. “like… is he really that good of a kisser like everyone says?”

your breath hitches at the question. your mind flickers back to how his lips felt on yours, how softly he held you, his breath soft against your lips, how his voice dropped, quiet and gentle. the way everything made you felt. your heart speeds up again at the thought, and you swallow, hesitating slightly before answering, trying to disguise the true thoughts you have. “i don’t know, wonyoung. it was my first kiss. how am i supposed to know what good means?” you reply, huffing out a laugh. she groans, unsatisfied with your answer, but she doesn’t push further. yunjin pulls back from the hug, but her hands remain on your shoulders. “you kissed lee heeseung. the lee heeseung. and he offered to teach you. girl, you’re in so deep.” you shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, if that’s possible. wonyoung chimes in, tugging your arm. “okay. back to your dorm, right now. tell us everything. leave absolutely nothing out.” you only laugh, but let wonyoung drag you along, yunjin following closely behind. the comfort the two provide for you makes things feel not as stressful, trying your best to push the anxieties and self-doubt about the turn the night took away.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

your stomach was a mess of nerves as you stepped through the classroom door. it wasn’t that you didn’t expect to see heeseung- you knew he was going to be here. but you didn’t know if you were ready. you had spent the past two days replaying every moment, every detail of that night, too caught up in your own thoughts. you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just a kiss, but your true feelings betrayed you. you spotted him in what had become his usual seat- which was previously yours- scrolling on his phone, leaned back in the chair. you swallowed, getting closer to the seat as you put on a front, acting as nonchalant and unaffected as you could.  you slid into the chair next to him, pulling out your notebook and letting your bag hit the floor with a soft thud. you busied yourself with opening to an empty page, dragging your pencil along the page to make random, pointless drawings. anything to try and ease your nerves at the moment. “hey, princess,” heeseung spoke, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. his tone was so casual, like nothing had happened. you tried to ignore the way your heartbeat sped up at the sounds of his voice, or the nickname that used to make you grind your teeth. “i didn’t see you after you left the room. i thought you disappeared.” you finally glanced at him, your eyes meeting his. “i’m still here. sadly.” his lip twitched, that signature smirk forming on his lips. “good to know.”

his tone was so casual, so normal. but yet, things felt different. maybe it was the way he was watching you- his gaze lingering for just a second too long before looking away. or how he wasn’t teasing you as much, you two having a normal conversation for once. you were reading too much into it. this was the last thing you wanted to do. you kissed him because he offered to teach you. there was no meaning, no feelings behind it- on his end. you cleared your throat, turning back to your notebook. “did you look over the project? i added some notes to the shared document. there’s an article that seems like it could be helpful.” he shook his head, leaning forward so his elbows were on the desk. “nah. i’ve been busy with practice.” you roll your eyes, but the usual irritation didn’t come. you continued to doodle on your notebook, trying to focus on the small flower you were creating. but you couldn’t ignore the way you could feel his gaze on you, making heat rise to your cheeks. “you’re staring,” you mumble, eyes still trained on the flower, adding small blades of grass at the bottom, adding another small flower next to it. “am i?” he asked, and you could see the way he tilted his head in your peripheral vision. “i didn’t notice.” you huffed out a breath, forcing yourself not to react. if you gave him an inch, he’d take a mile, pointing out every little flustered reaction you have. it was the last thing you needed. dr. kim entered the room, greeting the class, indirectly saving you from having to reply. you tried to focus, jotting down whatever he mentioned, but your focus was somewhere else entirely. every time heeseung moved, shifting in his seat, tapping his pen against your notebook, your attention would be drawn to him. you couldn’t stop it. as much as you tried to focus, trying to ignore him, your mind wouldn’t let you. you felt like a middle schooler with a pathetic crush all over again. it was stupid. he was acting normal. you were (trying to) act normal. so why did nothing feel normal? slowly, your head turned just slightly, looking towards him. but he was already looking at you. he didn’t look away, your eyes meeting for a fleeting second. your breath caught in your throat, and you turned back to your notebook quickly, shifting in your seat. you were screwed. your heart lurched, your pulse quickening. a small part of your mind tells you that you’re not imagining things- that something has shifted. something is different. but you can’t place your finger on it. you feel like you’re making yourself go crazy, overanalyzing every little detail. every little glance, every sentence, hell, you payed attention to the tone of his voice. all you know is that you’re fucked. you’re officially down bad for lee heeseung.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

your day had been horrible. you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep, forgetting that this shitshow of a day ever happened. you woke up late, the shrill sound of your alarm shocking you awake, the time on the clock practically mocking you as you realized you were going to be late to class. you rushed your morning, not even having enough time to get breakfast, leaving your stomach growling as you rushed to class. you looked like you had just rolled out of bed- which was the truth- as you walked into the classroom, sending an apologetic smile as your professor glared at you. the lecture was a blur, and to make matters worse, you absolutely failed your test. you knew you weren’t confident with the material, but to have a low c staring back at you made you feel too incompetent. your professor didn’t even hide her disappointment, shaking her head as she placed the paper on your desk, your ears turning red with embarrassment. now, your heavy feet were carrying you to your favorite café, your comfort away from the hectic world, the one place that brought you peace after a bad day. about halfway there, it had started sprinkling, small droplets landing on you as you walked. it truly felt like you had a rain cloud above only you, making fun of how bad your day had gone so far. you pushed open the door to the café, the comforting smell filling your senses, and you felt the tension in your body ease just slightly. you tried to ignore the looks of other patrons, wondering why you had no umbrella, your hair and clothes damp as you stepped inside. all that was on your mind was a hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream. you’d been dreaming about it since you walked into class earlier, making a promise to yourself you would pick one up after class to hopefully raise your dejected feelings. of course, the universe had other plans. the cup looked fine, the white paper concealing what was inside. but when you took a sip, the sharp taste hit your tastebuds, completely wrong. bitter coffee covered your tongue, making your face scrunch up. you blinked in confusion, slowly popping the lid off the cup. they had given you straight black coffee. you stared at the coffee, your pitiful stare reflecting off the dark liquid. you sighed, frustration bubbling up inside you. you weren’t going to make a scene, you were too exhausted for that. it wasn’t what you did. but you also knew if you didn’t have your hot chocolate you were going to go insane. was it pathetic that a drink could help make your day that much better? maybe.

you walked back up to the counter, politely pointing the mistake out to the barista, even pulling out your crumpled up receipt from your pocket to solidify your point. she didn’t seem to care, staring at you blankly before taking the cup with a sigh, muttering out a half-assed apology. you wanted to say something, your inner dialogue filled with very creative language as you watched her roll her eyes when she turned around. you felt like a burden, the comfort this place usually provided suddenly turning into a unpleasant experience. they finally handed you the right drink, about five minutes later. it should’ve made things better, but it didn’t. you thanked her with the biggest smile you could muster, apologizing for the inconvenience and turning around. you were starting to walk to your favorite seat, a table in the corner that gave you a perfect view of the scenery outside, a perfect place to put in your headphones and daydream. and that’s when it happened. too focused on the previous interaction, too distracted with everything that had gone wrong today. you ran into someone- hard. your shoulders slammed into each other, the force making you stumble backwards, your drink almost spilling. some splashed out the small opening, the hot liquid splashing against your hand, causing a small curse to leave your mouth as you winced. you steadied yourself, looking up at the stranger. an apology was on the tip of your tongue, ready to admit that you weren’t paying attention, but that’s when you saw his expression. cold. angry. he looked you up and down, like you were a piece of garbage. as if you were an inconvenience. like you had ruined his whole day, his eyes full of judgement. he didn’t bother to say anything, let alone hear whatever you had to say as he scoffed and continued on his way. it felt like a slap in the face. your mouth opened, almost ready to sputter out insults, but no words came out. suddenly, it felt like the weight of everything that had happened today was crashing down on you. your rushed morning, your failed test, your disappointed professor, the rain, the wrong order, the barista, this stranger- his glare, like you meant nothing. it all felt like too much. hot tears brimmed your eyes before you could get your emotions in check. you turned around, pushing open the café doors, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. the soft rain from earlier had begun to fall in fat, harsh drops, pouring down on everything. the weather felt like an accurate representation of your emotions in the moment, cold, sad, chaotic. you pressed a hand to your forehead, trying, and failing to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. a lump formed in your throat, and you leaned back against the wall of the café. you pulled your phone out from your pocket, trying to ignore how pathetic your reflection looked as you unlocked it, a tear slipping down your cheek as you opened your contacts, your fingers immediately finding yunjin’s name as you pressed the call button. it was like once one tear fell, the floodgates opened. you couldn’t control them anymore, tears spilling down your cheeks as you wiped at your eyes pathetically. the only noise being the quiet ringing of your phone, the rain falling, and your quiet sniffles.

it went to voicemail, yunjin’s happy voice breaking the sad silence. you tried again. still no answer. more tears fell, moving onto wonyoung next. it repeated the same process, ringing. and ringing. and ringing. and then- voicemail. you tried once again to be sure, clinging onto any ounce of hope. same result. you could feel your heart shattering more and more. you felt alone. your sniffles turned into quiet sobs, clutching your phone as you tried to catch your breath. everything felt too overwhelming, too out of your control, too messed up. you were stuck here. you couldn’t walk home, the rain was too strong. you couldn’t go back inside, not looking like this. everything was slowly unraveling. your closest friends weren’t even picking up, and you couldn’t get mad at them for it. they had lives too, not always able to drop everything for you. but the betrayal still stung, everything feeling like a personal attack at this point. you forced yourself to breathe, slowly unlocking your phone once again. you scrolled through your contacts, blurry, tear-filled vision making it harder. you just needed someone, anyone who you could call. anyone who could come get you. your eyes stopped on one person, your heart beating faster at the thought. you clicked on his contact, you finger hovering over the call button, before finally, you pressed it. it rang once. twice. three times. you were losing hope, more tears spilling down your cheeks as the reality of your situation set in. and then- “hello?” your breath catches. you hadn’t expected someone to actually pick up. everything felt so hopeless, the sound of someone’s voice sending a shock through you. you sniffle quietly, trying to get a word out, but it’s like they’re all caught in your throat. “hello?” heeseung repeats again, his voice more clear this time. “are you there?” you take a deep breath, forcing your tears and shaky breaths to calm down. you feel like if you speak a new wave of tears will just spill down your cheeks. “i-“ you start, before your voice breaks. you swallow, trying again. “i need a ride… it’s raining. no one else was picking up.” there’s a long pause, silence stretching between the two of you. you begin to feel stupid for calling, for being such an inconvenience to another person, more than you’ve already been today. you hear a small laugh on the other end, your eyebrows furrowing slightly at the sound. “can’t handle a little rain, princess?”

frustration builds inside of you, but you hold your feelings down. this, however, makes the dam in your eyes break again, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “heeseung, please,” you sniffle, sucking in a shaky breath as you try to get your emotions in check again. the teasing tone of his voice is gone almost immediately, replaced by confusion as he speaks again. “y/n? are you okay?” your breath catches at his change in tone. you didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, didn’t want to push your emotions onto someone else, all because you couldn’t handle a bad day. but everything was too much right now. “yeah,” your speak, you words quieter than you expected, a shaky tone to your voice. “just… tired.” he’s silent for a bit, before he speaks again, and you can hear shuffling on the other end, the jingling of car keys sending a small hope through you. “where are you?” “the café near campus. the one we went to that one time,” you force out, trying your hardest to sound normal. and not like there’s tears slipping down your cheeks. you think you must look insane. standing under the awning of a café in the pouring rain, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold a hot chocolate and a phone. it must be a laughable sight. heeseung’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, calm and serious, a vast difference from the usual teasing, smug tone he has. “i’ll be there soon. when i get there just walk to my car, alright? i’ll pull up next to the curb.” you nod, forgetting he can’t see you. when you finally speak, your voice is barely above a whisper, defeated, shaky. “okay.” the call ends, leaving you in silence again. a shaky sigh leaves your lips as your hand wipes your tears, trying your best to collect yourself. you take a sip of your hot chocolate, the warm liquid providing a small sense of comfort in whatever whirlwind your day has turned into. nerves fill you again, the thought that you could be a burden creeping into your mind. your hands shake as you rub at your eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. god, you don’t wanna be a total mess when heeseung gets here, but you can’t stop crying. you force yourself to focus on something different. business proposal, hot chocolate, your favorite salad, cats. anything that makes you happy. and slowly but surely, your tears turn into small sniffles. you watch cars drive by, but there’s not a lot. most classes are out by now and students don’t wanna be parading in this rain. the rain doesn’t let up- if anything, it’s gotten heavier, wind whipping around you at this point. after a few minutes, you finally see a car pulling up. the sight is so reassuring, but you can’t stop the way your pulse speeds up, or the nerves that run through you. your feet don’t move at first, still too caught in your emotions to move. you take a small step, slow, cautious, before the rain showers you, pelting, hard. you speed up quickly, ignoring the chill of the water as you cling to your hot chocolate, as if that will do anything to warm you up in this weather. it’s lukewarm by now, anyway. when you reach the car, heeseung’s eyes are on you, the window rolling down as you get closer. “get in,” he says, voice low, but not unkind, “you’re shaking.” you can only nod, pulling open the door and slipping inside. the warmth of the car immediately envelops you, feeling like a warm hug. you try your best to ignore the way your clothes, now wet, feel against your body. neither of you says anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. you finally turn, meeting his eyes. he looks… concerned.

he raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to speak. you don’t. so he finally does, his voice softer than it was before. “you wanna talk about it?” you shake your head, a new wave of emotions hitting you at his question. you blink back the hot tears brimming your eyes again, snapping your head towards the window as a shaky breath leaves you. “thank you,” you sniffle, your voice quiet. defeated. he hums, his voice reassuring, whether he means it or not. it feels like it’s grounding you in the chaotic mess of your emotions. “don’t worry about it.” without another word, he pulls away from the curb. heading towards the dorms. he doesn’t tease you, doesn’t ask any more questions. the only noise is the soft radio, the car’s engine, and the rain pattering outside. you bite your lip, trying to hold back a new wave of tears as you rest your head against the window. it doesn’t work. tears spill down your cheeks, your breathing irregular, labored, as you try to stay quiet, wiping at your eyes as inconspicuously as you can. heeseung notices, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. he doesn’t push, simply turning up the volume of the radio, masking the sounds of your tears behind the music. it’s such a small action, but it makes your stomach flip, taking a small sip of your hot chocolate to ground yourself. as you get closer to the dorms, your thoughts swirl, uncontrollable, chaotic. you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. you need to forget about today. pretend it never happened, pretend it was all just a nightmare that you’re going to wake up from tomorrow morning. but as you sit there, dried tears on your face as you look over at heeseung, your heart speeds up a bit. maybe you needed a distraction. maybe you just needed… something to take your mind off of the day. he turns to you, meeting your eyes, and you glance down at your hands quickly. god, you must look like shit right now. would it be weird if you asked for another kiss? would that actually take your mind off of how bad today was? thoughts swirl in your mind, half of yourself telling you to just go for it, be bold, ask for what you want. the other side battles it, scenarios of him giving you a dirty look, like the stranger did, filling your mind. you sigh, shaking your head. there’s too much going on in your mind right now for you to also be dealing with this. the car slows as heeseung pulls up outside your dorm. the low hum of the radio filling the tense silence between the two of you. you should leave. unbuckle your seatbelt, thank him for the ride, open the door, and go back to your dorm. but you don’t. you sit there. your fingers tighten around the cup in your lap, feeling the paper mold to your grip. you can feel his gaze flickering to you. waiting. you keep your eyes fixed on the window, watching the rain droplets race each other down the glass. your heartbeat sped up in your chest, the pounding in your ears drowning out the noise of anything else. you should just go. but you can’t move. you inhale shakily, focusing on every ounce of courage you have. “heeseung,” you begin, but the moment you turn your head, his attention on you, the words get caught in your throat. refusing to leave. he hums, waiting for you to continue. you swallow, nerves building. this is stupid. this is so stupid. what if he says no? what if laughs in your face? the weight of today is already pressing down on you, heavy, suffocating. if he rejects you, if he looks at you with even a fraction of the disdain the stranger at the café did, you might just end it. you should forget it. push your thoughts aside and leave the car. just curl up in bed and go to sleep. your thoughts aren’t correct right now. your mind is jumbled, your emotions are out of whack- but then he shifts slightly. placing his elbow on the center console as he faces you. his full, undivided attention on you. he’s waiting.

your breath stutters, heat climbing up your neck. “at the party,” you begin, your voice quiet, barely above a whisper. “when we-“ you stop, shutting your eyes for a second. it’s too late to back out now, you’re already speaking. “when we kissed.” he doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, simply waiting for you to continue. your breath is shaky, your next words unsure. “did that mean anything to you?” you regret the words the moment they leave your lips. you sound desperate. pathetic. needy. you shake your head quickly, shutting your eyes. “forget it,” you mumble, as if you can take back the words you just said. “i’m a mess right-“ “i wouldn’t have done it if it didn’t,” heeseung speaks, cutting you off. his voice is quieter than usual. softer, but still firm. “that was your first kiss.” your pulse stutters, a breath catching in your throat. you finally turn to look at him, your stomach twisting at the intensity of his gaze. you should stop talking. end this before you do something you’ll regret. but you keep talking, your voice so quiet, you’re unsure if he hears it over the sound of the radio. “can you… can you do it again?” his eyes widen a bit, but the moment is brief. a flicker. and then that unreadable look is back. you want to take your words back immediately, erase this moment from existence entirely. “you don’t have to,” you add, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “it’s just- fuck. today has been horrible, and i can’t stop thinking about that kiss, and i thought that maybe-“ “are you sure?” heeseung asks, cutting your rambling off again. his voice is softer now, almost as quiet as yours. like these words are only meant to heard by the two of you, hidden from the rest of the world. you swallow, setting your cup in his cup holder. you don’t trust your voice right now- can't trust it- so you nod instead. for a second, he only watches you, his expression unreadable. it sends a chill through you, anxiety seeping in. then he slowly reaches up, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. his touch is soft, barely there, but it’s everything you need right now. his gaze flickers over yours- searching for any signs of hesitation. like he’s waiting for you to pull away. but you don’t. you lean in slightly, a silent confirmation. and that’s all it takes. “okay,” he murmurs. and then his lips are on yours again. his lips brush against yours, soft, careful, like he’s still making sure this is what you want. he doesn’t press hard, his hand holding your jaw, his lips barely there. you shudder at his touch, at the feeling of him. and then you kiss him back. it's hesitant- unsure. you still don’t know how to do this, how to match someone’s rhythm, someone who knows what they’re doing. but heeseung doesn’t rush you. it’s not overwhelming. he just guides you, and you let him. he tilts his head slightly, molding his lips against yours, coaxing you to follow his lead. and you do. you follow the way his lips move, melting more into the kiss by the second. you can feel his other hand moving, his fingers ghosting over the side of your neck. you shiver at his touch, the warmth, the position of his touch sending a wave of heat rushing through you. his fingers rest on the back of your neck, just below your hairline. his touch is gentle, guiding you closer to him, and you let him, instinctively moving closer to him. the kiss deepens just slightly, his hand pulling you even closer. you should pull away. stop here. this should be enough. but you want more. a flicker of something unfamiliar and new buzzes in your chest, and you’re moving before you can think too much about it. your hands reach out, finding the front of his hoodie as your hands grip the fabric, pulling him even closer.

that changed everything. heeseung exhales sharply against your lips, and then he’s kissing you harder, deeper. your brain short circuits, the added intensity unfamiliar, but so welcomed. his grip on the back of your neck loosens, his fingers tangling in your hair. a small noise escapes you, desperate, wanting. it’s barely audible over the noise of the radio and the rain against the windshield. but he hears it. you know he does. you feel the way his fingers tighten in your hair, tilting your head as he deepens the kiss, a quiet hum vibrating in his throat. your head is spinning. it’s only your second kiss ever, you’re still fumbling to keep up, still clumsy in your movements. but the way he’s holding you, guiding you through it like he knows exactly what he’s doing- he does- you don’t have to think too much. you just follow his movements. your body melts into his touch, the nerves leading your body as you focus on his kisses and nothing else. your fingers loosen their grip on his hoodie, threading into his hair, your fingers tightening slightly. his breath hitches for a second, a noise leaving his lips. it sends a shiver down your spine. his lips slow, his kisses growing softer again, like he’s trying to ground himself. the thought makes your stomach flip, so many different feelings swirling inside you. new feelings. foreign feelings. but you love them. neither of you speak when you finally pull away, your foreheads resting against each other. you’re both breathless, lips parted and swollen as you catch your breath. your hands stay tangled in each other’s hair, like neither of you want to let go just yet. the air is thick with something unspoken, like a line was crossed tonight. you don’t care right now. you don’t want to think about that. part of your mind knows you should pull away, create some distance before this goes further than it already has. but you don’t want to. so you don’t. your fingers that are tangled in his hair tighten slightly, and before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in again. pressing your lips against his, not soft, not gentle. you want more. heeseung exhales softly, and it’s like his resolve snaps. like everything he was holding back breaks at your movements. his hands drop to your waist, tugging slightly. you pull away from his lips, your breath heavy as your brows furrow. “what-“ you begin, blinking in confusion. he cuts you off with a quiet laugh, his voice almost teasing, but with a hint of warmness that’s not usually there. “trust me.” and you do. you let his hands lift you, the space between you becoming increasingly smaller. the awkwardness of the car’s cramped interior makes your movements more careful. you let him guide you over the center console, your body bending slightly as it digs into your legs. and then you’re in his lap. his hands remain on your waist, just holding you, watching you. your hands rest on his shoulders, steadying yourself. the new proximity makes your pulse stutter, so close to him it feels dizzying. his eyes search over your face, before his hands find your back, and he’s pulling you into him. his lips are on yours again, and every thought you had vanishes. this kiss is different than the other two.

it's hungrier, more desperate. like he was holding back, waiting for permission to let go. and you gave him that. his hands are everywhere- your back, trailing up your sides, your thighs, your hips, his touch desperate. like he’s trying to commit you to his memory. it's dizzying. intoxicating. your hands tangle in his hoodie again, trying to ground yourself as a small noise slips past your lips. everywhere he touches feels like it leaves fire in his wake. and then his lips leave yours. your breath catches as his lips move lower. he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your jaw. the sensation is foreign. it’s overwhelming. you can feel his breath against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as a sigh leaves your lips. his hand on your thigh tightens at the noise, a noise coming from deep in his throat as his kisses become messier. his kisses trail along your neck, sucking, kissing, his breath ghosting over your skin. you felt hot. your fingers tighten in his hoodie, a sharp exhale leaving your lips. your heart is racing, your breathing picking up. your body is reacting to sensations you’ve never experienced before. your head falls back slightly, his lips exploring more area. it’s intoxicating. dizzying. but it’s a lot. it’s too much all at once, as much as you want more. the moment you shift slightly, heeseung notices. his kisses stop, but he doesn’t pull away. his breath is warm against your neck before, slowly, he lifts his head, his gaze searching yours. his grip on your body loosens slightly, just resting there now. “you okay?” his voice is low, laced with something that makes your head spin. “too much?” you swallow, grounding yourself. you want this. you want his touch, his kisses, his attention on you. but it feels like it’s moving too fast, caught between the two emotions. you nod, before quickly shaking your head. “i-“ you stutter, your voice quiet, breathy and shaky. “i don’t know. it’s a lot. but i want it.” his brows draw together slightly. he doesn’t look angry, he looks concerned. his voice is quiet, comforting. his hands slide to rest on your waist, simply holding you. “we’ll stop for now. i don’t want to rush you.” his voice is steady, but his breathing is uneven. there’s an emotion in his eyes you can’t place. they’re darker, flickering over your face. your heart lurches at the mention of ‘for now.’ he wants more as well. you exhale, your breath shaky as you nod. “okay.” you want to feel something more. you don’t want to move, don’t want to leave the moment. so you lean in, your cheek resting against his shoulder as you breathe out, the warmth of his body grounding you. his hands hover slightly over your waist, before they trail up your back, hands splaying out as he tugs you closer to him. it’s intimate. too intimate. you’re crossing a line, and you know it. his chest rises and falls beneath you, his steady breathing calming your erratic heartbeat. the warmth of his body feels like a blanket, everything quiet. you let the silence wash over you. it’s not awkward. it’s comfortable. the only sound that surrounds you is the rain, and the soft radio, “delicate” by taylor swift playing quietly.

his thumbs rub against your back, the small action causing a quiet hum to leave you as you shift against him, getting more comfortable. you hear a quiet laugh leave him, so soft it almost just sounds like a breath. his voice is soft, but it has the familiar teasing tone you’re used to. “you good, princess?” the nickname feels different this time- not used to tease anymore. like an unspoken acknowledgement that something has shifted, the layers of tension being peeled back slowly, your desires coming to fruition more every time you see him. it’s something neither of you want to say out loud, but you both feel it. you smile softly, nodding your head against his shoulder. “yeah. i’m good,” you whisper, your voice soft. he hums, tilting his head slightly so his lips brush against your ear as he speaks again, his voice so soft. “you sure? i know that was… a lot.” and you know it was. you’re feeling so much. so many feelings swirling in your chest. but you only nod, not wanting to break the moment. “yeah.” you press closer into him, snuggling up against his warmth. his arms tighten just slightly around you, locking you in his embrace, like you would ever want to leave. “i’m not going anywhere,” he laughs softly, feeling your hands grip his hoodie just a bit tighter. his voice has a warmth you’ve never heard before, the tone making your stomach flip, and you only hum in response, snuggling your head further against his shoulder. you know you’re down bad, you know you’re falling. hell, you’ve already fallen. part of you knows it’s a bad idea. while the other part just wants to live. wants to experience this moment. the serenity, the soft sound of the radio, and the warmth of lee heeseung. and for the first time today, it doesn’t feel like everything is falling apart.

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“i don’t know!” you cry out, throwing your hands up as you stare at the two girls sat in front of you with their jaws dropped. "i don’t even know what happened! it’s all a mess!” yunjin stands up, immediately pacing the room as she looks at you, shaking her head in disbelief. “wait, let me get this straight? you made out with him. in a car. in the rain? y/n, what the fuck?” wonyoung, still sitting, crosses her arms. “and you didn’t think to- what, call us? text us? i don’t know, anything.” you roll your eyes, staring back at her. “i did call you guys. yunjin was too busy getting her back blown out by beomgyu, and god knows what you were doing. he was the last person i could call, and i wasn’t about to walk home sobbing in that rain!” yunjin stops pacing, turning to you with her jaw dropped. “that’s a valid reason to not pick up the phone!” wonyoung’s face scrunches up in confusion, her head tilting. “you called me? i was watching youtube, i swear my phone didn’t ring.” you throw your hands up in frustration. “i don’t care! it’s in the past, i’m just- fuck, i’m losing my mind. i don’t know what i’m supposed to feel.” yunjin looks at wonyoung, the two sharing a look of disbelief. “okay. you asked him to kiss you, so obviously part of you knows what you’re feeling.” “i don’t-“ you groan, dropping your head in your hands. “i’ve never done this before, yunjin! it’s all new to me. it’s terrifying.” wonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your misery. “you’re down bad, girl. just admit it.” you sigh, falling back onto the couch. “i know i’m down bad, wonyoung. i blush just thinking about the guy.” yunjin sucks in a breath, sitting down next to you. “brutal. so, like, what happened after? you made out, then what?” you pause, mind still spinning as you recount the memories of everything. you turn away from her, your voice quiet as you speak. “he like… pulled me into his lap. and he was kissing my neck…”

there’s a long silence. no one saying anything. you look back to see yunjin and wonyoung both staring at you with wide eyes. “what the fuck?” wonyoung yells, standing up. you press a finger over your mouth, begging her to shut up. she shakes her head, continuing to ramble. “y/n! oh my god, this is insane!” you place your hands over your face, heat crawling up your cheeks. “i know! i don’t know what i’m doing, guys! then we kinda hugged? and just sat there for like ten minutes. we only stopped because my legs were falling asleep and i made up some excuse to go inside.” yunjin only sighs, leaning her head back against the couch. “you’re so oblivious. he wants you.” you raise an eyebrow at her, slowly uncovering your face. “you don’t know that. why would he want me when he has a ton of other girls that know so much more than i do? i feel like a burden, like he has to teach me everything. i chickened out from a few seconds of him kissing my fucking neck!” wonyoung laughs, shaking her head. “i don’t know, y/n. why do guys do half of the stuff that they do?” she stretches, raising her arms above her head as she continues. “plus, not every guys mind is filed with sex. maybe he’s okay with taking it slow with you. i still can’t believe you bagged heeseung of all people, though. he’s known for his hook-ups.” “that’s exactly what i mean,” you mumble, your voice growing more defeated by the second. “maybe this isn’t a good idea. i feel like an idiot.” yunjin sits up, smacking your stomach before rising to her feet. “stop doubting yourself. you’re hot, okay? you’re looking into it too much, i promise.” you only glance at her, a pout on your lips. she sighs, grabbing your arms and pulling you to sit up. “i’m not saying to rush into anything, alright? don’t forget his reputation. but if he was willing to just hold you for ten minutes like that? there’s obviously something more there.” you give her a half-smile, considering her words. they hit deep, considering that his reputation had been the one thing lingering in the back of your mind when you got butterflies thinking about something that he did. what if you were just a game? just something to entertain him until the next girl came along?

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

the last few days had been brutal. you had forgetting what having a crush- an actual crush- felt like. on top of the… physical aspect of it, you were losing your mind. searching for heeseung around campus, daydreaming in class, your body heating up at the memory of his hands on you. you felt like a teenage boy with raging hormones. it didn’t help that you barely ever had the form to yourself, so being able to act on your desires was rare. now, it’s 10pm. you’re sitting in your room, finishing up some last minute assignments. yunjin is in her bed, scrolling on her phone, tiktoks playing quietly in the background. you submit your last assignment, your phone buzzing next to you. you glance at it, expecting a random notification, but it’s a text from heeseung. your heart speeds up just slightly. heeseung [10:20 pm]: u busy?you squint at the message. your stomach twists slightly, the two simple words sending a rush of adrenaline through you. you pick it up, anyway, typing out a quick response. you tell yourself to act normal. he can’t tell if you’re flustered over text. you [10:21 pm] why?it’s read immediately. and almost just as quickly, three dots appear. heeseung [10:21 pm]: wanna watch a movieoh, for fuck’s sake. this could only mean one thing. you felt your pulse speed up slightly, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before you send your response. you [10:22 pm]: watch it yourselfheeseung [10:22 pm]: don’t want toyou sigh, reading his message over and over. you couldn’t fall for a trap this easily, but yet, you wanted to. you [10:22 pm]: ask jake or somethingheeseung [10:23 pm]: he doesn’t look as good as uyour breath catches. oh. your whole body felt like it was heating up, betraying you quicker than your mind was. you should ignore him. put down the phone, pretend this conversation didn’t happen. save your sanity. heeseung [10:24 pm]: u gonna respond?fuck it. you [10:24 pm]: i hate u. be there in 10.you push yourself off the bed, yunjin sending you a look when you grab your jacket, pulling it over your arms. “are you going somewhere?” she asks, tilting her head. you jump slightly at her voice. you had forgotten she was here. fuck. “uh, yeah.” she raises an eyebrow, a tiktok playing on loop as she watches you. “at 10:30 pm?” fuck. think of an excuse. anything. “yeah, i need to-“ you glance around, your eyes landing on your backpack. “i need to print something!” she just stares at you, her expression full of amusement. “print something.” you want the floor to swallow you. “yeah.” "...at 10:30?”

"yep!” you reply, trying your hardest to seem believable. she blinks. “what do you need a printer for?” “class!” you reply quickly. too quickly. ���what else would i need it for? that’s why, i’m going to the library.” her eyes narrow, her eyebrows furrowing. “the library closes at nine.” fuck. you’re horrible at this. “wonyoung has a printer! in her dorm! so i’m going. to print. my paper. because class is important.” no response. silence envelops the two of you. finally, she tilts her head. “you don’t have class tomorrow.” you’re going to slam your head into the wall. “fine!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “i’m going to walmart for snacks! is that better?”yunjin holds back a laugh, her eyes flickering with amusement. “snack run. got it.” “yeah, i had to lie or else… or else you would ask me to buy you something. and i don’t have a lot of money.” you reply. she only smirks. she knows you’re full of shit. you know she knows. “okay,” she shrugs, looking back at her phone. you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, walking towards the door. just as your hand touches the doorknob, she speaks again. “use protection.” you freeze, your stomach dropping. you turn to look at her, slowly. “what?” she keeps her eyes trained on her phone, but there’s a shit-eating grin on her face. “you heard me.” you gasp incredulously, glancing around the room. “i told you i’m going to walmart.” she snorts, finally glancing up at you, “yeah, and i’m going to paris next weekend.” you glare at her, flipping her off. “it was the best i could come up with! you put me on the spot!” “it was horrible,” she sighs, shaking her head in disappointment before continuing, “i don’t care what you’re do, but at least lie better. and i’m a bit offended you didn’t just tell me the truth.” you shake your head, embarrassment rushing through you. “nothing’s happening!” “no.” she replies, a smirk on her lips as she turns off her phone, placing it next to her. “you’re getting dicked down by lee heeseung. that’s what’s happening.” your jaw drops, and you yank the door open, your face burning red. “i am not! shut up!” “goodnight, y/n,” she muses, a teasing smile on her lips. you slam the door shut behind you, stomping down the hall. fuck. that was humiliating. you’re never living that down. she’s probably texting wonyoung at this exact moment, telling her everything that just happened. you groan out loud, your head falling back as you wait outside the elevator, sending heeseung a text. you [10:27 pm]: i’m going to kill u.you don’t wait for his response, stepping into the elevator as it opens. your stomach is twisting in anticipation, for… whatever is going to happen tonight. your body is betraying you. your mind is betraying you. thoughts flickering through your mind, making you feel dizzy as you walk to his dorm. it’s a short enough walk, simply enjoying the scenery of campus as you make your way to his dorm. it’s quiet at this hour, and it almost feels like you’re the only one here, besides the student you pass every few minutes. every step feels heavier, like you’re getting closer to what you know is a like you haven’t crossed before. as if you haven’t crossed more in the last week than you ever thought you would.

when you finally make it to his dorm, following the directions he gave you, your heart pounds in your chest as you stand outside his door. you hesitate, before raising your hand and knocking once. twice. you hear footplates approaching the door, before it swings open and- oh. your mouth almost waters at the sight. heeseung is standing there, a white wifebeater clinging to his skin, grey sweatpants low on his hips. his hair is messy and disheveled, making him look even more irresistible. his arms are crossed against his chest, muscles flexing every time he moves slightly. your brain stops working, your eyes raking over his figure before you realize what you’re doing. they snap back up to his face, but it’s too late. he already has the smug look on his face, and you’re praying he doesn’t say anything. luckily, by the grace of god, he doesn’t. he leans against the doorframe, raising his eyebrows slightly. “took you long enough.” you sigh, your lips pursing as you glare at him. “shut up. i’m here, aren’t i?” “yeah.” he says, voice dropping with teasing tone as he tilts his head. “i was starting to miss you, pretty girl.” your eyes widen a bit at the new nickname, and you swear your heart skips a few beats. you want to slam your head into the nearest wall repeatedly. you want him to- no. you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to get a grip. “move,” you finally say, pushing past him and entering his dorm. it looks like a typical college athlete dorm room. he was lucky enough to get a whole dorm to himself, basketball posters littering the walls, a pc set up where the other bed usually goes, and a small couch and tv off to the other side of the room. it was cozy, and not too cluttered. he lets you push him, and you try not to focus on how his muscles feel so much more defined through his tank top than they did through his hoodie. “damn, princess. you’re killing me.” you roll your eyes, walking over to his couch and plopping down on it. you watch as he shuts the door, stepping closer to you. his smirk stays on his lips, his eyes full of something you can’t read, but it sends a shiver down your spine. “so,” you begin, trying to keep your emotions in check. “what movie are we watching?” he doesn’t say anything, simply sitting next to you on the couch and turning the tv on. the movie of choice is waiting to be played, and your eyes squint slightly. “10 things i hate about you?” your voice comes out more surprised than you meant, and heeseung looks at you, tilting his head. you hadn’t expected this choice. you were expecting him to pick a marvel movie, or mad max, something that guys watch, you didn’t know. his smile is smug, glancing at the tv and back at you. “yeah,” he shrugs, not seeing the big deal. “do you not like it?” you blink, thrown off. a rom-com? it’s not something you had expected heeseung- or any college boy in general- to enjoy. you feel like you’re uncovering a new side of him, one that you haven’t seen before. you shake your head quickly, “no, it’s one of my favorites. just didn’t think you would watch something like this.” he raises an eyebrow in response, leaning back against the couch as he presses play. “i’m a man of depth, y/n.” his voice is teasing, his eyes flickering from yours to the tv. your stomach flips, but you don’t say anything else. you settle back into the couch, unsure of how much distance to put between the two of you. about halfway through the movie, patrick and kat finally kiss. lying down after the paintball game, against the hay. it’s like you can feel the tension snapping between them, your eyes staring longingly at the screen.

you can’t look away. it’s something you’ve always wanted. the kind of love you’ve always wanted to experience (well, besides the fact it all started as a bet). your mind flickers to you and heeseung and whatever… this is. without thinking, the words spill out, wistful, longing. “i’ve always wanted a love like theirs. this movie is perfect.” silence. the reality of who you just spoke those words in front of settles in. you blink, wanting the ground to swallow you. you glance over at heeseung, praying to every god that he somehow didn’t hear you. he definitely did. his eyes flicker towards yours, the corner of his mouth lifting into that signature smirk. he doesn’t say anything at first, just watching you, the way you shift in your seat, obviously regretting your choice of words. “yeah?” he finally asks, his voice low and teasing. it sends a chill through your body, and he leans just a bit closer. “i guess they are pretty nice together, aren’t they? reminds me of us.” his words make your eyes widen just slightly, your pulse speeding up at his comment. you swallow, hard. your mouth opens, but no words leave your lips. his gaze stays on yours, intense, waiting. but you can’t speak. the room feels like it’s shrinking, the air suddenly too think to breathe. he tilts his head, the stupid smirk still on his lips. “cat got your tongue?” his voice is still low, but there’s something else to it now. you bite your lip, nerves crackling between the both of you. the movie continues to play, but it’s just background noise now, only sound filling the heated silence between you. he shifts, his body facing yours completely now, making him feel so much closer. the smirk on his face drops slightly, an unreadable expression taking over his features. your breath stutters, and you force words to leave your lips. “well… i mean-“ he leans in closer, so close you can feel his warm breath against your skin. your heartbeat quickens, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the moment. you try to ignore your nerves, your erratic heartbeat, your shaky breath, the way your lips part slightly. but it’s impossible. he raises a hand to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “tell me,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with something you can’t quite place. he drags your bottom lip down with his thumb, before letting it fall back into place. “you ever think about that with someone like me?” you swear your heartbeat stops. because you have. god, of course you have. but the words are stuck in your throat, the moment too tense for you to force any words out. you can’t even think straight. you feel surrounded by him. the look in his eyes, the proximity, his touch. you inhale sharply, your eyes closing for just a second as you try to ground yourself. it’s useless. you’re too far gone, the moment is too tense. his gaze flickers to your lips, a soft breath leaving his lips, and something inside you snaps.

your lips crash against his, your hands threading into his hair to pull him closer. he reciprocates immediately, groaning against your lips, like he had been waiting all night for this. his hand on your jaw tilts your head, deepening the kiss. it’s frantic, messy, and desperate. charged with emotion and the tension that had been building all night. all the unsaid words pouring themselves into the way your lips move against each other. his free hand finds your waist, pulling you closer. slowly, he shifts his hand to your back, fingers splaying out as he secures you, slowly guiding you down until you’re lying back on the couch, your bodies pressed together, his legs between yours. his weight settles over you, caging you in, but it feels like more than that. something you can’t quite place. your fingers leave his hair, trailing down to his chest, your breath stuttering as you feel the way his muscles move beneath his tank top, desire shooting through you. his tongue prods at your bottom lip, asking for more, your mouth opening instinctively to let him in. your breath catches as his tongue brushes against yours. it’s a foreign feeling, and you don’t know what to do. your inexperience is painfully obvious, insecurity filling you. but heeseung doesn’t rush you. his hand on your jaw tilts your head slightly, coaxing you to follow his movements. his kisses are slower now, letting you adjust. it’s messy and uncertain, but he exhales against your lips, hot and heavy, and you realize that he doesn’t care. your inexperience doesn’t matter to him. he wants this. you want this. you let yourself relax, your lips moving more confidently against his. something inside you clicks, your resolve shattering as your mind is clouded with the desire. the want for more. more of his lips, his touch, everything. your body feels like it’s on fire, need spreading throughout you. you pull back, gasping for air, both of your chests rising and falling as you catch your breath. your mind is hazy from the intensity of the kiss, of the feelings swirling through you. heeseung’s gaze softens slightly, like he’s about to say something, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. your voice is shaky, but firm. “i want more.” he stares at you for a second, processing your words. then, his eyes darken, and it’s like you can feel the shift in the room. a deep, guttural groan leaves his lips, and before you can process it, his lips are back on yours. his kisses are deeper, more urgent, desperate, like you just shattered his last ounce of restraint he had. you feel dizzy, his kisses intoxicating. his touch grows more fervent, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head. you sigh against his lips, everything feeling like too much and not enough at the same time as your hands grip his biceps, grounding yourself to something. his tongue slides against yours in a way that makes your head spin, the intensity of his kisses sending your mind reeling.

and then he shifts. just slightly, but his hips press against yours. it’s subtle, unintentional, but it sends a shock through your body, a familiar spark burning in your core. you gasp against his lips, your fingers tightening around his biceps as the pleasure spreads. he notices. fuck, of course he notices. hears the small, shaky sound that leaves you. he pulls back just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. his voice is low, dripping with amusement. “that feel good, princess?” you tighten around nothing, your thighs attempting to close, squeeze together, ease some of the tension you’re feeling. but you can’t, not with heeseung in between your legs. his lips curve into a smirk, picking up on every detail about your body. he presses his lips against yours again. rolling his hips again, this time deliberately. your breath stutters. the feeling is overwhelming, too much with all the emotions you’re already feeling, but you want it. your fingers dig into his biceps, using your grip as an anchor for your sanity, but he doesn’t stop. his lips trail along your jaw, down your neck, his voice tickling your skin. “you like that, don’t you?” you can’t answer, can barely breathe. you try to speak, but he rolls his hips just right, pressing right against your clit, and a whimper slips past your lips. he hears it. loves it. but when you don’t answer, he slows his hips, the loss of friction making your fingers tighten. you go to protest, but he speaks before you. “c’mon princess”, he murmurs, hand sliding down to grip your waist. “i asked you a question.” he shifts slightly- just enough for you to feel it. but it’s not enough. your core clenches at the fleeting pressure. “don’t get all shy on me now,” he hums, angling your hips just right before rolling his agan. slower, more controlled. your nails dig into his arms, head tipping back slightly. it’s not enough. and he knows. he’s waiting. waiting for you to break. and finally, you do. you gasp, voice breathless and desperate as it leaves your lips. “yes.” he huffs out a laugh against your ear, a shiver running down your spine. “that’s my girl.” his lips crash against yours, grinding against you harder, pulling gasps and whimpers from you. “fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. his breath is ragged, fingers tightening on your waist, like he’s trying to hold back. but you need more. your hips push up, chasing the dizzying pleasure. his grip tightens, his hips rocking harder, faster. “shit- princess…” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. then you feel it. the solid press of him through his sweats. fuck, he’s huge. your stomach clenches, an involuntary moan leaving you. he’s hard, because of you. he’s enjoying this. you shift again, your underwear sticking uncomfortably to yourself, voice shaky and broken. “heeseung-“ his hand slides beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your waist. his lips hover against yours, voice quiet, strained. “i’ve got you.”

it's too much. every roll of his hips, every kiss, every touch. your head rolls back, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure rushes through you. you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening, so close to tipping over the edge. heeseung watches, his breath hitching. his eyes are dark, lidded, filled with lust. his hands tighten on your waist, hips pressing harder. “you close, princess?” you nod, your hips trying to push up against him, but he holds you down, forcing you to take it. a groan leaves his lips, his voice strained as he grits his teeth. “fuck… you’re gonna make me blow a load in my pants.” his words make you shiver, barely processing words at this point. and then his hips move just right- and you break. your entire body tenses, your back arching off the couch as a broken cry leaves you, white-hot pleasure crashing over you. heeseung’s brows are furrowed, his jaw slack, watching as you tremble beneath him. and that’s all it takes for him. his fingers grip your waist tighter, his hips stuttering against yours as a choked gasp spills past his lips. “ah, fuck-“ he groans out, finally finishing in his pants. his body shakes against yours, the feeling only heightening your pleasure. it’s silent for a bit, the only sounds being the movie playing quietly in the background and your heaving breaths. you can still feel the aftershocks, your mind foggy, having felt as if it's flown somewhere far away. and then, a quiet, breathless laugh leaves heeseung’s lips. “damn, princess.” your lips part, but nothing but a soft exhale leaves your lips. your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, everything feeling too heavy. heeseung’s expression shifts, his amusement turning into something softer, his fingers brushing against your cheek. his touch sends a shiver down your spine, still hypersensitive. “you good?” your eyes finally flutter open, blinking softly. you manage a small nod, slowly coming back to reality. a small laugh leaves his lips, but his tone remains soft. “you sure? you look like you’re on another planet.” you nod again, and then reality sinks in. you just came in your pants because of lee heeseung. you basically had indirect sex with lee heeseung. your eyes widen slightly, a hand covering your eyes as you groan quietly. “i can’t believe we just did that.” he leans down just slightly, his lips brushing against yours ever so softly. “believe it, baby.” you let out an exasperated laugh, rolling your eyes as you shove at his chest. “literally shut up.” he only laughs, pushing himself so he’s hovering above you. he just watches you for a moment, silence enveloping you as you both process everything. and then. “not gonna lie, i’ve never came in my pants before.” your eyes widen, just looking at him. “oh.” you blink, averting your gaze. but then, something clicks. you did that. you were a first for him, too. it causes something proud to bloom in your chest, holding back a smile. “why do you-“ heeseung squints at you, an amused scoff leaving his lips. “are you proud of yourself right now?” you avert your gaze, poorly biting back a smile. “no.” “oh my god,” he groans, his head dropping to rest against your chest. “you so are.” you giggle, trying to ignore how his touch affects you. “i mean, i think that’s kinda an accomplishment. don’t you?” he lifts his head, an amused expression on his face. he laughs softly, shaking his head. “you’re unreal.” “i guess you’re rubbing off on me,” you shrug, pushing some hair out of his face. due to his positioning, though, it falls back right away.

“and, uh…” you hand runs down his face, fingers grazing down his chest as your eyes remain on his. “i’ve never done that with anyone before.” he lets out a quiet curse, and you can feel his muscles tensing under your fingers. he finally snaps out of it, glancing down at where you’re still connected. “this is just uncomfortable now.” you shift your hips, trying to ease some of the uncomfortable stickiness. it backfires, heeseung’s hand gripping your hip as he sucks a breath in through his teeth. “don’t move.” it sends a jolt of electricity through you, your lips parting slightly. fuck, this was such new territory for you. before you can speak, heseung is pushing himself off of you, standing up with a groan. “i’m gonna go get us some pants.” you push yourself up on your elbows, your stomach doing a little flip. the word leaves your lips before you can think about it. “us?” he tilts his head, a soft smile on his lips. “yes, us. i’m not letting you sleep over in ruined pants.” sleep over. you’re sleeping over. you’re spending the night at a guys dorm- heeseung’s dorm. “don’t look so surprised, princess. i’m not letting you walk home this late,” he speaks again, watching your surprised expression. and when he reaches out his hand, pulling you up to your feet, you let him. you let him get you a change of pants. you let him pull you closer in bed. you let yourself fall asleep in lee heeseung’s arms, even though your heart is beating out of your chest the whole time.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

it’s been two weeks. two weeks of this… thing with heeseung. and you’re happy. you’ve never felt this way about anyone before. you’re not dating. neither of you would call it that. no one has. not yunjin, not wonyoung, not his friends- but they all have that look in their eyes when they see you together. they know. because you’re together. kind of. you go to his games occasionally, dragging either yunjin or wonyoung along. because he asked you to come. he wanted you to be there.he’s on time for study sessions, even picking you up from your dorm sometimes. half the time is spent actually getting work done, and the other half is spent talking about everything and nothing at the same time. you go out together now. you take heeseung with you to your favorite café after class. you remember the first time you walked in with him after everything. a few of the workers just stared at you. you always came in alone, but here you were with lee heeseung, standing so close to each other, whispering like your words were only meant for you two. he takes you to a lookout about a twenty-minute drive from campus. it’s always quiet, peaceful. nothing’s said, but everything is understood. he always takes you late at night, the lights far away creating one of the most beautiful nights. the city feels so close, but so far away. just like everything feels with him. and then there’s the other moments. the ones that make you question whatever this is. when he brings your favorite drink to class- because he knows it now. when he watches the shows you recommended, listens to the music you play. when he always makes sure you get home safe, walking you all the way to your door before sending you off. when you catch him looking at you, his eyes softer, something that you can’t quite place. when he can always tell when you’re cold, not even saying anything before he drapes his sweater over your shoulders, going back to whatever he was doing like it was no big deal.it's not obvious you’re together, but it’s obvious that there’s something there. and that’s enough. you’re happy. you’re happy. right? the walk to your dorm is quiet. it’s not awkward- it’s never awkward. it’s just quiet. filled with words that neither of you want to say, caught in your swirling minds. the night is cold, but you can’t feel it. not with heeseung’s hoodie enveloping you, sheltering you from the nipping night air. his shoulder continues to brush against yours, the proximity making you feel safe. but something feels different tonight. the whole day, something felt off. like all the unspoken words were going to come to fruition. he had acted different tonight. softer. closer.

tonight, he had pulled the hood of your (his) hoodie up when the wind picked up, his fingers lingering for just a second too long. his fingers brushed against yours while you walked together, and for a second, you thought he was going to intertwine your fingers. tonight, he had just watched you when you were speaking. really watched you. like he was memorizing every detail of your face. and now, you’re here at your dorm. and you don’t want to go inside. you don’t want the night to end. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, looking up at heeseung as he stands in front of you. “thanks for walking me back,” you mumble, shoving your hands in the pocket of his hoodie. heeseung nods, his lips parting. your eyes light up the slightest bit. it looks like he’s going to do something, say something. finally, finally cross that line. maybe a kiss. not a kiss filled with tension, or a makeout session. a kiss just because. a soft, fleeting goodnight kiss. but then, he just exhales through his nose, his lips curling into a soft smile. his hands lift, your heart speeding up. it’s happening. and then, he tugs your hood down. his touch is so soft, it’s comforting. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, your breath hitching at the action. his eyes flicker over your face, filled with unsaid words, and you can almost see the way he’s fighting his thoughts.his voice is so quiet when he speaks, filled with something you can’t place. “goodnight, princess.” you swallow, something akin to disappointment filling you. but you brush it off, simply nodding as you take a step back. “goodnight, heeseung.”his lips part again, but he closes them quickly, simply returning the nod. you try not to let your emotions show, just turning around and entering your dorm, the ghost of whatever moment should’ve just happened disappearing into the air. the door clicks shut behind you, and now it’s just you. alone. it’s quiet. too quiet. you’re half-expecting yunjin’s voice to fill the room, teasing you, asking you to spill all the details- but it doesn’t. she’s spending the night at beomgyu’s. it’s become routine for her. part of you wishes that was routine for you and heeseung as well. you sigh, running a hand through your hair before finally making your way to your bed, sliding under the covers. heeseung’s hoodie smells like him. that somehow makes everything worse. everything should be fine. this shouldn’t be a big deal. but you can’t stop thinking about it. the way he looked at you tonight- hell, the way he’s been looking at you every day lately. how close he got tonight, how his touch lingered. and the look in his eyes. like there was so much he wanted to say. but he didn’t. he never does. you stare at the ceiling, unsure of whether your feelings are valid or not. this isn’t how you expected your first romance to go. not that this is even a romance. or a relationship. or a situationship. whatever it is. you always thought love would be easier to understand, to navigate. that you would see someone, and everything would just click. you wouldn’t have to wonder, you wouldn’t be anxious. love at first sight, they call it. maybe you read too many books, watched too many movies. maybe you just had an unrealistic expectation of love. you push the doubt away, along with the lingering thoughts of confusion. they’re not fair. not to heeseung, and definitely not to you. you’re happy. or, you’re supposed to be happy. so why does it feel like you’re waiting for something that’s never going to come? something just out of reach, like a mirage? no matter how close you get, it continues to get further away.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

the sun is out, trees rustling slightly with the breeze. you and wonyoung walk side by side, her rambling about how some guy in her economics class- anton- keeps trying to flirt with her. it’s funny. sometimes you wonder if wonyoung truly understands how beautiful she is. you can’t blame the guy. “girl, i don’t know why you’re surprised,” you roll your eyes, a small laugh leaving your lips, “you’re stunning.” she smiles, her mouth opening as she goes to respond, but the words die on her lips as both your ears pick up on the conversation happening next to you. “heeseung? oh yeah, he said they were just messing around.” something said in passing by a guy talking to his friend. something not meant for your ears, but you heard it. and it hurt. made your stomach twist, a disgusting feeling settling in your gut. there was a party yesterday. heeseung went. he told you he was going. your mind swirled with endless possibilities. did something happen there? was something said? why are other people talking about you? you don’t react- at least, not outwardly. but the words feel like a punch to your gut. a bucket of ice water being poured over your head. wonyoung hears it, too. you know she did. you watch as she turns to you, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “heeseung?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “did something happen?” it only makes the ugly feeling inside you worse. you shake your head, trying to keep your voice as normal as possible. “no. but rumors are just rumors. besides, he’s really popular. people are bound to talk.” you try to convince yourself you mean what you’re saying out loud. like everything’s fine. like it doesn’t hurt. she hesitates a bit, studying your face. she opens her mouth, but ultimately nods along to your words slowly, letting it go. she continues to talk, the conversation between you two easily flowing again. you reply, trying to seem invested. trying to stop the uneasiness forming inside you more and more by the second. but it’s hard. you know heeseung. you know his reputation.

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the café was busy this time of day. conversation and the sound of drinks being made filled the small building, the smell of coffee heavy in the air. you’re sat at your favorite seat in the corner, heeseung sitting across from you. the conversation was flowing easily, the two of you talking about anything that came to your minds. you didn’t mention what you heard earlier, even though the doubts burned in the back of your mind. as much as you tried to push the thoughts away, they stayed. taunting you. the bell jingles, alerting that a new customer is walking in. you turn your head, your stomach dropping the second your eyes land on her. sieun. she makes direct eye contact with you, a slow smirk forming on her face as she walks over. your guard goes up immediately, heeseung having yet to notice her. you knew about their history. everyone did. an on-and-off fling that lasted for months. they ended things for good just a couple months ago, right before you met heeseung. “well,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness, a fake smile on her lips as she places her hands on the table. “you move on quick, don’t you? i’ve heard a lot about you two.” your body feels like it goes cold. you glance at heeseung, waiting for him to do something. say anything. but he doesn’t. his smile falters, his eyes flickering towards her. you watch as he rubs the back of his neck, simply shaking his head before turning back to his cup. it sends a chill through you, that same ugly feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. sieun doesn’t even acknowledge you. her eyes stay trained on heeseung, her smile darkening, lips curling into something sadistic. “don’t have anything to say? i heard you were just messing around with this one,” she continues. she can’t even use your name. ‘this one’ stings like a burning rod being pressed to your skin. but her words stick out the most. messing around. the same words you hear earlier. the same words that had been swirling in your head this whole day, making anxiety pound through you. it felt like every fear you had was being confirmed. every rumor, coming to fruition. you watch heeseung, your eyes pleading with him to say something. to say she’s wrong, that there is something between you two. that she heard wrong, and things are different this time. anything to make this right. but instead, he just shakes his head again a small, breathless laugh leaves his lips like he can’t believe this is happening. it makes your stomach twist, frustration bubbling up inside you. the man who always had something to say was now sitting wordlessly in front of you, avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

sieun finally turns to look at you, her smile turning sympathetic, taunting. “you’re cute,” she muses, fake sadness dripping from her voice. “i hope you’re not expecting anything serious.” it hurts. it feels like a stab wound to the heart, pain rushing through your whole body. your mouth opens and closes, but no words leave you. your gaze flickers back too heeseung, waiting for something, anything. that something never comes. sieun simply laughs under her breath and shakes her head, leaving as quickly as she came. leaving you two surrounded by a crushing silence. your hands curl into fists underneath the table, frustration turning to anger and hurt as you stare at the tabletop. heeseung still hasn’t said anything. he sits there, silent, and you can feel his gaze on you. it hurts too much. your heart feels like it’s shattering more by the second, and you can’t take it anymore. you’re pushing yourself up from your seat before you can think twice about it, grabbing your bag, and walking. you don’t look back. you don’t listen to his voice, or the stares from others as you make a beeline for the door. it swings open, the cold outside air whipping around you immediately, only adding to the storm of emotions in your head. you can’t think straight, every thought in your mind jumbled. you don’t hear him behind you, not until you feel the faintest pull on your wrist do you stop, your breath catching in your throat. you hear his breath, ragged, quick. and finally, after everything, he speaks. “y/n,” he says softly, cautiously, almost hesitant. his grip tightens just slightly, tugging just slightly more. “you could’ve said something,” you mumble, the words barely escaping your lips. “anything. and you didn’t.” there’s a pause. silence. deafening silence. and suddenly, it’s like the rose-tinted glasses were ripped off, leaving you standing with the reality of your actions. tears brim your eyes as everything hits you all at once. you fell for the playboy. you were stupid enough to just be another one of his girls. your throat tightens, and the words spill out before you can stop them. “i gave you so much,” you choke out, your voice trembling as you turn around to face him. “i- i actually trusted you. i had hope.” his expression falters just slightly, his grip loosening, just barely, but you notice it. his mouth opens, but you cut him off before he can speak, all the frustrated feelings you’ve bottled up leaving you. “you knew how new this was for me,” you continue, your voice rising. you ignore the stares of other students, or the tears that begin to spill from your eyes. “how new all of this is. why would you- why would you take that from me? i don’t know what i’m doing half the time we’re together, but i still try. and you- you just… you don’t try! you give me nothing in return!”

a bitter laugh leaves your lips, full of disbelief. your free hand comes up to rest on your forehead, trying to ground yourself somehow. but it’s no use. your tears keep falling, anger and heartbreak mixing to form the worst rush of emotions you’ve ever had. “you don’t even kiss me goodnight, heeseung,” you mumble, your voice breaking as more tears spill from your eyes, blurring your vision. “you can’t even do that. the only time we kiss is when you want to fucking make out.” his eyes widen slightly, and you can see the way guilt floods his features. but you can’t stop. it’s like you’re running on autopilot at this point. you laugh again, the sound borderline hysterical. your body is shaking with a mix of your cries and the emotion running through you, the adrenaline, the heartbreak. “you can’t even call me by my actual name,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter as they leave your mouth. part of you can’t believe you’re saying these things out loud. “just ‘princess’. always just princess.” the laugh in your throat dies, simply replaced by silence aside from your sniffles. his face- the guilt on his face- burns into you the more you look at him, your heart shattering at the sight. but whatever this is hurts more. you can’t take it anymore. can’t keep sacrificing your happiness, and having doubts about if lingering touches are true or not. “you don’t know how much that hurts,” you whisper, the anger you felt finally fading into nothing but heartbreak and hurt. “to give you everything, and only feel like a game. you know, i used to dream about my first kiss. every first i could ever have. and you- you took so many of them from me.” you finally stop speaking, letting the words sink in for the both of you. it’s quiet, tears slipping down your cheeks, but your face is blank. and heeseung stands there, motionless. confusion and guilt filling his expression, but you can’t wait around for a baseless apology. so you don’t. you pull your wrist from his grip, and he doesn’t hold you back. he doesn’t say anything. he just watches. and that somehow hurts more than hearing him say anything. you shut your eyes, biting your bottom lip to contain a sob as you turn on your heel, walking away. through your blurry vision, you don’t look back, keeping your vision forward as you walk away so fast it’s borderline running, your heart shattering more with every shaky step.

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your footsteps were heavy, dragging. the walk back to your dorm had been torturous, dried tears on your face, little sniffles escaping you as you ignored the stares of other students. you could acknowledge that you probably looked like shit. the door clicked quietly as you shut it behind you, locking you in silence. the familiar space that always provided comfort, seemed to do absolutely nothing for you now. your bag slid off your shoulder, falling to the floor with a quiet thud, but you didn’t even hear it. you felt numb, everything far away. but here, in the silence, it felt like everything replayed. every word, every emotion, him. your chest tightened, tears brimming in your eyes once again. they started to fall, soft at first, but they soon became uncontrollable. you tried to hold them back, to calm yourself down, but it was no use. your back hit the door, your legs giving out as you slid down, hitting the floor. you tried desperately to catch your breath, your sobs wracking through you as your hands gripped at your chest, trying to grasp at any sense of control over the situation. nothing was working. everything hurt. you were left feeling stupid and gullible. just another one of lee heeseung’s girls. and then, you saw it. on your desk chair, his hoodie was draped over the back. the sight sending a new wave of emotions through you. it was like you could feel it from where you sat on the floor, smell the familiar scent of him the hoodie carried. and it was all too much. a sob broke from your chest, loud, audible, everything crashing down at once. your chest burned. your head hurt. everything felt wrong. you were trying to pull yourself together, but it only got worse. the reality of everything kept tumbling down on you, forcing you to replay the memories of the day over and over. finally, you heard a door open, your eyes flickering over to the bathroom door only to see wonyoung and yunjin rushing to your side. their expressions filled with concern and confusion. it only made everything hurt more. your sobs were bordering being painful, your body shaking with each and every heaving breath you sucked in. wonyoung was next to you first, wrapping her arms around you as you continued to cry. you couldn't do anything, your hands shaking in your lap as the tears flowed freely. “what’d he do?” she asked bluntly, remembering the conversation from earlier. her hands rubbed your head, trying to calm you down as best she could. “what happened?” your lip trembled as you tried to get words out, but all that left was a strangled sob, your eyes clenching shut. your hands came up to your face, as if you were attempting to block out the pain. but nothing worked. you felt the ache deep inside you, burning, stinging. “what do you mean ‘what’d he do’?” you heard yunjin ask, her hand rubbing your knee comfortingly. you couldn’t reply, couldn’t even get a single word out. but you heard wonyoung filling her in on the conversation you overheard earlier, only adding to the pain you felt. you tried to speak, tried to fill them in on what had just happened, but it felt like the words were stuck in your throat, like bile threatening to come up. all that left you was gasps for air. and then, you sucked in a breath, and it all spilled out.

“she…  sieun came up to us. said.. he moved on quickly. that i was a game.” you choked out between sobs, shutting your eyes to ground yourself. “he didn’t- he didn’t say anything. nothing. he was just silent.” “so… fuck. i left.” your chest heaved, squeezing your eyes shut as you spoke the words that felt too real. “he tried to stop me- but i told him everything. everything i’ve been feeling… ands he still didn’t say a single fucking word.” it felt like saying them out loud meant that it actually happened. that it was real. that you didn’t imagine it, it wasn’t a bad dream. wonyoung’s arms tightened around you, pulling your head against her chest as you continued to sob, everything feeling too real. you had never felt this before. this all consuming pain that enveloped your whole body. a pain you couldn’t pinpoint, not a physical pain, but an emotional pain. resting somewhere deep inside you. yunjin’s eyes softened, her hands continuing to rub soft circles on your knee as you shook. “you deserve so much better than that asshole, y/n.” you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “i don’t know what i was expecting, but i-“ you choked on your words, closing your eyes before continuing. “i thought it was real.” wonyoung rubbed your arm with the hand she had wrapped around you, the touch grounding you, comforting you. “don’t say that,” she whispered, her lips brushing against the top of your head, “this isn’t your fault.” you shook your head, finally lifting it as you wiped your tears, a bitter, disbelieving laugh slipping past your lips. “but it is,” you mumble, your voice shaky, “i let him in. i knew what i was getting into. lee heeseung, campus playboy. and i’m so, so fucking stupid for falling.” the two girls stared at you, pity etched across their faces as they watched you break down on the floor, the happiness you had been feeling being ripped away from you all too soon, leaving you empty and heartbroken.

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the world kept moving. the days stretched on, long and unbearable. it felt like each one bled into the other. it was strange. how time could feel so, so agonizingly slow. it had only been a few days, but it felt like weeks. but a part of you felt like you were still there. standing, waiting, begging for anything, and getting nothing but silence in return. you went to class because you had to. because you couldn’t let your grades slip. you sat in your usual seat with your notebook open, but the words blurred together. you busied yourself by doodling on your paper, words entering one ear and leaving the other. you couldn’t focus on anything, when your mind would drift back to him. every time someone leaned back in their chair, or tapped their pen on their notebook, you felt like you could see him. it made something in your stomach twist violently. you couldn’t tell if it was nausea or longing. but you knew it hurt. “y/n?” you blinked, snapping back to reality at the sound of your name. you looked up, only to be met with the eyes of your professor, staring at you expectantly. fuck. you swallow, gripping your pen just a bit tighter. “uh…” your eyes scanned the board for something, anything, but nothing made sense. you had no idea what was being discussed, or what question had been asked. you felt embarrassment flood you, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you sighed. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t paying attention. it’s been a long day.”your professor shook her head, eyes full of disappointment. “you need to pay attention, you’re usually better than this.” it hurt. her look of disappointment, her words. if only she knew how you felt right now, the thoughts running through your head. but you only nodded, sinking in your seat as she moved on, another student raising their hand enthusiastically to answer the one you head clearly missed. you forced yourself to sit through the rest of the lecture, trying to pay attention as best as you could. it didn’t work. eventually, you went back to doodling, your mind running wild with thoughts of regret again.

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eventually, yunjin and wonyoung forced you to go out. they thought it might help, and you believed them. maybe you just needed a night out, surrounded by people. that was bound to get your mind off of everything. so, you did your hair, your makeup, put on an outfit you felt good in. forced yourself to smile, taking a deep breath as you told yourself over and over that this would help. it was a good idea. but the second you stepped inside the bustling restaurant, laughter and voices echoing around you, you realized just how wrong you were. he was everywhere. in the boy at the next table, who wore his hoodie half zipped, his elbows rested on the table as he talked to his friends. in the smell of the cup of coffee a waiter walked by you, your mind drifting back to the café that had become your go-to. you haven’t gone since. in the laugh from someone a few tables down- a different voice, a different person, but it still made your stomach twist. the worst part was the basketball game playing on the tv mounted above the bar. you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting to it, scanning the screen over and over again like you would see him. it wasn’t even your schools team, but you couldn’t stop. it just reminded you of him. the way he moved, controlling the court, making everyone root for him. you remembered the way his eyes would look for yours in the crowd after he scored a point. it made your breath hitch. you weren’t sure how long you stared, hyper focused on the tv, until yunjin’s hand tapped your lightly, your eyes reluctantly pulling away from the tv and back to hers. “you alright? you haven’t said much,” she murmured, beat voice soft, cautious. you shook your head, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “i’m fine,” you lied, forcing yourself to engage in the conversation that was happening. neither of them look convinced. and your eyes kept flickering back to the tv.

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you barely ate. you weren’t even doing it on purpose- didn’t realize how long you would go without eating. you just had no appetite, no desire to fuel your body. you would go the whole day, not even realizing you hadn’t eaten until it was 9pm and yunjin was shoving a cup of ramen in your face with a firm “eat.” it reminded you of how much he loved ramen. the thought only made you want to eat it less, your stomach churning at the thought. sleep wasn’t much better. nights were the absolute worst. at least during the day, you could fake it. pretend you were fine, put on a fake smile and laugh at unfunny jokes people made. busy yourself with small talk, classwork, and meaningless conversations to pull your mind away from the storm inside you, even if only for a bit. but at night, there was nothing to distract you. you had yunjin, of course, but you were tired of dragging her into your heartbreak fueled rants and crying sessions. so it was just you lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, yunjin’s soft breaths the only noise filling the room. you felt like you were drowning in your emotions. the loss. the regret. the ache in your chest that hadn’t gone away since that day. it was like you could feel it physically. like a weight pressing down on you, constantly following you around throughout the whole day, but it was the worst at night. you were tired. all you wanted to do was sleep. but you couldn’t. your mind was running at a million miles a minute, everything coming back to you. when you finally fell asleep, it wasn’t any better. in your dreams, you were back there- standing in front of him with a broken heart and crushed dreams. you always woke up before he could answer. and you felt stupid. because this is exactly what you had been afraid of. this is why you had been so hesitant. because you knew how it would end- you knew what he was like. and still, you let yourself fall. you didn’t even try to catch yourself, willingly stepping off the edge and enjoying the freefall until you hit the ground. hard. this was why you had stuck to romance novels for so long. why you had lived vicariously through kat stratford, rose bukater, lara jean covey… the list could go on and on. because, as much as you longed to experience romance, you were scared. scared that real life wouldn’t be like the book and movies. it wouldn’t be like the songs, or the cheesy love-at-first-sight stories old couples would tell you. and it wasn’t. it was painful, and things weren’t always destined to work out. even your playlists had shifted. whereas a week ago, your most played song was ‘bewitched’ by laufey, a lovesick smile on your face as you laid in bed, singing along to the lyrics, you found yourself repeating ‘right where you left me’ by taylor swift lately. you felt like the song described your situation too perfectly. you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse for coping. eventually you settled on the latter, because you would cry every time it came on, your breath hitching the second you heard the ‘friends break up, friends get married.” you just wanted everything to go back to normal. you wanted to go back to the day you met heeseung, walking to a different seat instead of sitting down next to him. you wanted to beg the professor to assign you with someone else. you wanted to never step foot in that fateful party that changed everything.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

it’s quiet aside from the video playing from your phone. you’re curled up in bed, a bowl of pretzels in your lap as you watch a video essay on youtube about fourth wall breaks. you had nothing else to do. yunjin was spending the night at beomgyu’s. again. wonyoung had to study for an exam coming up. you were left alone, your phone being your only entertainment. sure, you could’ve gone out. but it’s 11pm. you just needed something to keep your mind occupied. it usually doesn’t work. but tonight, things are different. you’re happier tonight. things are easier. your mind doesn’t keep drifting back to him. you stretch, rolling your neck as the voice talks about deadpool’s fourth wall breaks. it’s weirdly interesting. you forgot how entertaining youtube essays could be. the peace is shattered by a knock on your door. the sound is sharp and unexpected, making you jump slightly as you look towards the door. you freeze for a second, before checking the time on your phone. 11:15pm. who would be here this late? part of you thinks yunjin came back. but she has a key, so why wouldn’t she just unlock the door? you stand, slowly walking towards the door, yawning slightly as you near it. maybe it’s wonyoung. she could’ve finished studying and wanted to hang out. but when you finally pull open the door, your breath catches in your throat. there, standing on the other side, is heeseung. you feel your stomach churn. he looks different. there’s bags under his eyes, and his hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. there’s a look in his eyes that you can quite place, something you’re grown accustomed to. you can never truly tell what he’s thinking. you stare at him, but you can’t get any words out. his eyes are staring back into yours, and it feels like time stops. you’re frozen, unable to move. he’s here. standing in front of you. you finally find your voice, forcing the words to leave your parted lips. “what are you doing here?” your tone is sharper than intended, and part of you wishes you could take them back. but it’s too late. they’re out there. heeseung stands still, his body tense. his eyes flicker around, like he’s lost deep in thought. it’s overwhelming. he hasn’t even said anything and you feel like he’s already said too much. you take a deep breath, your hand on the door as you get ready to close it. but heeseung’s fast. he reaches out, his fingers splaying across the door and halting your movements. “wait. wait,” he pleads, his voice quiet, breathy. “just let me explain, please. just- just let me in. i need to, fuck… i need to say something.” you hesitate, your eyes searching his. your mind is telling you to shut the door in his face, crawl back in bed, and pretend this conversation never happened. but you don’t. you can’t. something about his expression, the way he’s standing there, eyes pleading with you to listen for once- it stops you. so you open the door wider, letting him step inside. your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest, averting your gaze from his as you step to the side. he steps inside, and it’s like you can feel the shift in the room. you shut the door behind him, turning around to face him, and it’s like something cracks within him. he doesn’t wait a second longer. he just starts talking, words spilling out of him like a dam, like he’s been holding them back for some time. “i don’t- i don’t do relationships. i don’t know how to do them. i don’t know how to feel this way. wasn’t supposed to feel this way,” he pauses for a moment, running a shaky hand through his hair. “i was fine before you. but now, everything has changed. i’m so fucking confused.” you stand there, frozen, your stomach twisting at his words. it feels like you’ve been hit by a truck. you don’t know what to do, what to say, how to react. his voice rises slightly, and for the first time, you see his true feelings. “you- fuck, you ruined me.”

his words are softer than you expect. they lack the usual teasing. they’re not sharp or mocking. they’re just a quiet emission of something he’s been dealing with, something he doesn’t know how to navigate. the pure emotion in his voice cuts through like a knife, hitting somewhere deep inside where all the sadness had piled up inside you. “you make me want things i don’t even know how to want,” he continues, his voice quiet now, barely above a whisper. “i tried to deny it. i tried to push every feeling i had away. i couldn’t admit it to myself- i was scared.” he stops talking, sucking in a breath as he stares at you. his eyes search yours, like he’s trying to gauge your emotions. you’re not sure. you don’t even know what you’re feeling right now. you’re finally able to force a word out, your voice shaky and quiet, like you’re not even sure you want him to hear. “heeseung…” but he doesn’t respond. he just stands there, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath he takes. his eyes stay locked on yours, and his mouth parts like he’s going to say something, start speaking again. but instead, he runs a hand through his hair, letting out an incredulous laugh. it’s not a happy laugh. it’s disbelieving, tinged with frustration and sadness, like he can’t even comprehend the fact that he’s in this position right now, pouring his heart out to someone he hurt. “fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head, his voice wavering. “i can’t even focus at practice. coach keeps yelling at me, reprimanding me, but-“ he pauses, his eyes landing on yours again. “i can’t stop thinking about you. it’s screwing me up.” you blink, the weight of his admission sinking in, making your eyes sting and a lump form in your throat. his voice is so raw, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut every time. his hand is shaky as he runs it over his face, shaking his head like he’s fighting something inside himself. “i don’t know what’s happening to me,” he continues, his voice breathy and laced with emotion. “i can’t stop wanting you. i don’t know what to do with that. i’ve never felt this for someone before.” he steps forward slightly, and you can feel yourself tense up. there’s an intensity in his eyes, raw and unfiltered. like he’s determined. it’s the most honest you’ve ever seen him be, the first time you’ve been able to tell what he’s feeling by looking at him. it almost knocks the breath out of you. “i want… i want you to be mine, y/n,” he confesses, his voice full of sincerity. “i want to hold your hand, not just have our fingers brush. i want to kiss you, for no reason at all, but because i can’t help it. i want you to be able to tell people i’m yours. i just, i want to be close to you all the time. i’ve never experienced this before, and it scares the hell out of me. but losing you is worse. i can’t keep pushing my feelings- and you- away when you’re all that i think about.” you freeze, your breath hitching as his words sink in more and more. he wants you. he wants this. your heart is racing, and your breathing picks up just a bit. heeseung takes another step closer, his voice barely above a whisper now as if he’s scared to say the words out loud. “i’m so fucking scared, y/n. this is all new to me. i don’t know how to do this. but i want to make this right. i want to be able to tell you what i’m feeling and what i want, just- please, don’t walk away again.”

the desperation in his voice tears at you, and before you can stop yourself, your vision blurs. the pressure in your chest builds, and a shaky breath leaves you as you feel the dam break. tears spill from your eyes, hot and fast, all the emotions you’ve been bottling up crashing down from the weight of his words. heeseung’s eyes widen the second he sees your face shift, and in an instant, he’s there. his hands gently cup your face, his thumb softly wiping away every tear that falls. your breath hitches at his touch, a quiet sob leaving your lips. “hey, hey, look at me,” he says softly, his hands guiding your face up carefully, like he’s afraid you might break. “i didn’t mean to- fuck. don’t cry, baby.” you can’t stop it. the tears are falling down faster that you can hold them back. heeseung’s thumbs continue to brush against your cheeks, trying to calm down the rush of emotions you’re experiencing. but it’s too much- the words, the emotions, the tenderness. it’s all so new, so different from what you’ve been experiencing these past few days. your chest tightens, a mix of pain and relief swirling inside you, and before you can stop yourself, you press your head against his chest, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hoodie in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. heeseung tenses up at the contact, his hands still cradling your face, albeit a bit awkward in this new positioning. but he doesn’t pull away. he lets you lean against him, tears spilling from your eyes as both of you breath shakily, like you’re afraid this moment could disappear at any second. for a few seconds, neither of you moves. the room is thick with tension, and the sounds of your sniffles and his uneven breathing. then slowly, cautiously, his hands finally slip down to rest at your back, gently- his touch so light you almost don’t feel it- pulling you a bit closer to him. his movements are tentative, like he’s not sure if he even has the right to hold you, but he’s too afraid to let you go. then, slowly, you pull away. but not far. just enough so you can tilt your head up, your eyes locking with his. and for a moment, it feels like the world stops. all his emotions are laid bare- his sincerity, his longing, his fear. and every emotion he’s feeling is mirrored in your gaze. you’re both scared, but you’re no longer hiding those feelings from each other. this is something new for both of you, but you know you’re ready to navigate it together.

before you can think too much about it, or second guess your thought process, you’re leaning in, pressing your lips against his. softly, tentatively at first. it’s different from every other kiss you shared. it’s not the rushed, messy kisses born from confusion and curiosity. no. it’s different. it’s slow, tender, filled with every unspoken word, every quiet confession that’s stayed locked deep inside until now. all the feelings of longing that have finally surfaced. it’s everything you both wanted but were too scared to ask for. his lips move against yours slowly, and the gentleness of the kiss contrasts everything that came before it. the rush of emotions is still there, but it's calm now, dissipating softly like the rain slowing down after a thunderstorm. it’s just the two of you, finally letting go, spilling your emotions out. heeseung’s hand moves to the back of your neck, his touch gentle but firm, pulling you closer. you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips, the soft press of his body against yours. it’s not like before. it’s real. and it’s yours. when he finally pulls back, there’s a moment of silence. neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. the air is thick with meaning. there’s no need for words anymore. there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. a small, hesitant smile tugs at his lips, his hand moving from the back of your neck to cup your face. “i mean it,” he whispers softly, as though he’s trying to reassure both of you. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, his eyes flickering to them before back up to your eyes. “i’m not going anywhere.” you nod, a shaky breath leaving your lips as your eyes search his. “i know,” you whisper back, the words a promise exchanged between the two of you. you lean back in, connecting your lips for the second time that night. the second they meet again, it’s different. the hesitation, the sadness, it all melts away, being replaced by something different. something neither of you can hold back anymore. your fingers dig deeper into the fabric of his hoodie, desperate for something to ground you in this moment. you feel heeseung’s hand move around to the back of your head again, fingers tangling slightly in your hair. you pull away, just slightly. your lips are still hovering over his, and you whisper, so quiet you’re not even sure if he heard. “heeseung…” you don’t even know what you’re asking for. you don’t know why you’re saying his name. his breath hitches, but he doesn’t pull away. you can feel the hand on your back tighten slightly, and he exhales softly, voice low. “i know.” and then he’s kissing you again, more sure this time, more determined. he guides you backward, each step slow, until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. he doesn’t rush you. he just holds you there, lips moving against yours, as if he’s waiting for you to stop him. you don’t.

he slowly eases you down on the bed, his hand on your back supporting you until your back collides with the bed. he follows you, until his body is hovering over yours. he finally pulls back, his weight braced on his forearm. his gaze flickers over your face, as if he’s memorizing every piece of you, trying to read your mind in this exact moment. it’s a look you’ve never seen in his eyes before, and it makes your stomach do flips. he raises one of his hands, his thumb brushing against your cheek. the softness of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help the way you push your head into his touch. and then, he speaks quietly, almost like a vow. “let me prove it to you.”your breath hitches. your eyes widen slightly, and you feel like you can’t move. you can’t speak. you feel like these past two weeks heeseung has spilt you open, making you feel things no one else has ever done before, and now he’s in front of you, offering to do the same. and for the first time, it feels real. heeseung doesn’t push. he just waits. because for the first time in a long time, this isn’t a game to him. it’s not about winning, or getting the girl. it’s about you. silence lingers between you, his words sinking into your mind. let me prove it to you. your heart pounds against your ribs, and part of you is sure he can hear it. his thumb continues to trace slow, soothing circles against your cheek, and the gentleness of it, the want, the need you feel pushes you. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his hoodie, exhaling a slow deep breath. you can feel the nerves pulsing through your body, but the warmth of his body above you, the emotions in his eyes, the softness of his touch, it’s enough. you tilt your chin up, pulling him down into another kiss. he reacts immediately, his lips moving against yours in slow, careful kisses. he still doesn’t rush you. his hand slips from your cheek to trail down your arm, fingertips skimming across your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. slowly, the kiss deepens, bit by bit. his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and just like last time, you let him in. it’s still clumsy, but you let yourself relax under his touch, sighing against his lips. his hand finds your waist, his fingers tightening slightly like he’s trying to hold himself back, and slowly, his lips trail lowers. to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the soft curve of your neck. your breath hitches. his lips are moving slowly, his kisses soft and fleeting, like he’s testing the waters, lingering, waiting for any sign that this is too much. but you don’t stop him. instead, you let your head roll back slightly against the pillow, granting him more access to your neck. his kisses grow more intense at that, sucking a piece of your skin and pulling a gasp out of you. his fingers brush under the hem of your shirt, just barely slipping beneath the fabric, his fingertips pressing slightly on your stomach. it sends a shiver down your spine, and instinctively, your body tenses. not out of fear- but because it’s new.

this isn’t like the last time this happened. it’s more full of emotion, more sure, like you’re dedicating yourself to him. like this time, you’re truly crossing a line that can never be undone. heeseung notices immediately. he stills, his lips hovering over your skin, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver through you. he stops moving his hand up, simply opting to run slow, lazy circles on your torso with his thumb. he pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he’s trying to understand what you want. what you need.you swallow, his gaze making something churn inside you. your chest is rising and falling in quick, timid breaths, nerves rushing through you. the hesitation is there. the fear. but so is the anticipation. the want. the need to experience something new, to finally give in to what your body and heart have been desiring. so you don’t pull away. you don’t stop him. instead, you push yourself up slightly, your lips hovering against his, and you whisper, “it’s okay.” something in his gaze darkens, something unreadable passing through his expression. he holds your gaze for a second longer, like he’s giving you one last chance to change your mind. like he’s trying to make sure that you’re sure. but when you don’t- when you reach up and curl your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips fully against yours- his restraint snaps.his kisses are hungry, taking more and more from you. and you love it. his hand under your shirt moves again, fingers splaying across your ribs as he holds you there, his lips moving against yours. for the first time, neither of you are trying to hold back. you arch slightly, pushing your chest into his hand, assuring him he can go further. and just like that his hand moves up more, cupping your breast over your bra and eliciting a gasp from your lips. your fingers curl in his hair, your chest rising and falling at the new sensation. heeseung can feel his restraint slipping more and more by the second. the need to be all over you, to make you feel sensations you’ve never felt before. but even through the haze, he’s careful. because this is you. and he knows this is a lot. his lips place sloppy kisses against your neck, his fingers groping and massaging your breast, ripping gasps and sighs from your lips. it’s like each kiss, each touch is a silent question, waiting, asking for permission without saying the words. and you give it to him. in the way your back arches, the way your hands tug at the strands of his hair, the gasps that leave your pretty lips as he explores places of you no one ever has before. he exhales a shaky breath against your skin, and he pauses, resting his head against your shoulder. his hand pulls at the cup of your bra, teasing you- and himself. tempting both of you with what’s about to happen. his body is tense, his breathing heavy, like he’s trying to control himself.

and then he lifts his head, his eyes dark and dazed as he looks at you. god, the way he looks at you. it makes your heart stutter, your stomach flip, it sends a rush of desire through you, your thighs attempting to close, rub together, ease any of the tension you’re feeling. but of course, like last time, you can’t. not with heeseung resting between your legs. his lips part slightly, like he wants to say something. but instead, he swallows hard, his eyes roaming across your frame. and before you can even process it, before you can allow yourself to feel self-conscious under his gaze- he moves. his finger slides out from under your shirt, and his hands curl around the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head with one smooth motion. a gasp leaves your lips, and he tosses it aside, not caring where it lands. and then he’s back on you. his lips are pressing urgent, feverish kisses across your newly exposed skin. his hands are everywhere, his lips are everywhere. he kisses you like he needs it. it leaves your head spinning, and your body feeling like it’s on fire. “heeseung-“ his name leaves your lips in a breathless plea, barely more than a whisper, feeling everything all at once. you feel him shudder against you, his lips pausing against your breast. then, slowly, his hand slips behind your back, his fingers resting on your bra clasp. it sends a shiver through you, your heart stuttering at the feeling. his voice is low, filled with lust, and he raises his head just slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “can i?” and you nod. you don’t think twice, simply pushing your back off the bed to give him easier access. and slowly, he pulls your bra off of you, leaving your top half completely exposed to him, showing him more than anyone else has ever seen. “you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, before his lips are back on you, his lips immediately latching onto one of your nipples, his tongue flicking, his lips sucking lightly, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. his hand comes up to massage the other one, pulling a choked moan from your lips. the feeling is so new, so foreign, and you didn’t know it could feel this good. you can’t help the way you squirm under his touch, your head falling back as breathless sighs leave your lips. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard. and heeseung groans against your skin. a low, deep sound that vibrates through you, making your stomach clench and your thighs twitch, desperate to alleviate the need growing within you. and slowly, he sits up, his eyes locked on yours. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you watch him, already missing the feeling of his mouth on you. but then. his fingers grab his hoodie, pulling it over his head.

something deep pools inside you at the sight of him. something that has you attempting to clench your thighs. your eyes take over his figure. the toned muscles, the sharp lines, his v-line, the way his sweatpants hang just a little too low on his hips. it makes your mouth water. but you don’t get to stare long. because his lips are back on you immediately. trailing over your chest before moving down slowly. his hands rub down your sides, mapping out every curve. his lips trail between your breasts, then down the center of your stomach. his kisses are slow and unhurried, making you feel dizzy. you body is so sensitive to every little thing he does. your breath catches as he gets lower, and lower, and lower- until he stops. his lips rest right above the waistband of your sweatpants, his hot breath against your skin making you shudder. he looks up at you, his eyes dark, filled with lust, and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweats, simply watching you. as if he’s asking for permission without saying a word. and you give it to him. you push your hips off the bed slightly, slow and needy, your eyes full of desire as you stare at him, a shaky exhale leaving your lips. “fuck,” heeseung whispers against your skin, a shiver running through you. you feel the way his grip on your waistband tightens, his mouth so tantalizingly close to where you need him. and then his lips part, a soft breath leaving his lips as he finally speaks, his voice low and dark. “are you sure?” you nod, a soft whimper leaving your lips as you wriggle your hips, your eyes pleading with him. he only breathes a laugh against your skin, the sound quiet and breathless, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your skin, a shaky breath leaving your lips as the feeling sends a shiver down your spine. “words, baby,” he whispers out, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach twist and your core clench around nothing. you don’t even know if you can speak. everything is so overwhelming in the best way possible, your eyes flickering all over his face as he just watches you with a smirk. you push your hips up again, your breath coming out desperate and breathy as you whisper. “heeseung, please.” that’s all it takes for him. he smiles, pressing another kiss to your skin before his fingers dip under your waistband, tugging your sweats and underwear down in one go. his fingers tug slowly, revealing more and more by the second. you feel more exposed, suddenly aware of how you’re now completely naked in front of heeseung. but you trust him. his eyes stay on yours the entire time, until he finally gets your pants off your legs completely, tossing them somewhere in the room. only then, does his gaze drop down, and you can see the way his eyes darken as he zeroes in on you. you go to close your legs, suddenly self aware, but he grips your thighs before you get the chance, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he looks back up at you. “keep these open for me, hm?” his thumbs rub slow, absentminded circles against your skin as he just watches you. like he’s committing the sight of you laid out bare beneath him to his memory. but it’s torturous for you.a whimper catches in your throat as your hands grip at the sheets, your hips attempting to move. “heeseung-“ he pushes your hips down, keeping you in place as he shakes his head. “you’re so needy, baby.” slowly, his fingers trail up your inner thighs, so close to where you need him, but never quite touching you, never giving you what you so desperately need. you whine, shifting your hips up, trying to feel something, but he just pushes your thighs down again. “patience,” he murmurs, the corner of his lips quirking up. “let me take my time with you.” and slowly, so slowly, he runs a finger along your slick folds, the sensation making a gasp slip from your lips. your thighs twitch, and he moves his finger up, pressing down on your clit and pulling a soft moan from you.

“oh- heeseung,” you gasp out, your eyes closing and opening again as your chest rises and falls rapidly, growing accustomed to the feeling of someone else controlling your pleasure. he hums, before moving his finger back down, finally inserting a finger inside you. a moan slips past your lips, your walls fluttering around him. “shit, baby,” he exhales, a breathy laugh leaving him as he looks up at your face before back down at your cunt. “you’re so tight.” he curls his finger, stretching you open as you gasp and whine, your hands tightening in the sheets as he pushes another finger inside your dripping cunt. you let out a shaky breath, your head rolling back against the pillow. and then his mouth is on you. a choked moan rips from your throat as his mouth sucks on your clit, the new feeling making your eyes shoot open as your hands fly from the sheets to his hair. “heeseung- fuck-“ you gasp out, your hips attempting to move, but he uses his free hand to press down on your stomach, forcing you to stay still. to take it. it’s too much too fast. you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening, every suck and press pushing you closer to the edge. your fingers tighten in his hair, and heeseung groans against you, sending a delicious vibration through you. your thighs shake as you gasp, teetering right on the edge. “heeseung,” you moan out, your voice shaky and strained, “gonna- i-“ you can barely get the words out before his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. he hums, the feeling making you squirm before he mutters, “already?” and then his mouth is back on you. his fingers are moving faster, his mouth sucking harder, his tongue working over your clit in slow circles. it's too much. your body tenses up and finally, the coil snaps. a broken moan spills from your throat as your back arches off the bed, your body trembling as you come undone. you can feel his arm press down harder, holding your bottom half still as you gasp, unable to do anything but take it. he doesn’t stop. at least, not immediately. he works you through it, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release, his fingers still moving and drawing out your pleasure. only when it’s too much, a whine slipping past your lips as your hands tug at his hair, does he stop. he pulls back, the bottom half of his face glistening with your slick, his eyes dark as he meets yours- and somehow, you want more all over again. “still with me, princess?” his voice is teasing, and he pushes himself up until he’s hovering over you. “or did i fuck you dumb already?” you can barely answer, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. his lips hover above yours, a small smile on his lips before he presses them against yours. you can taste yourself against his lips, slightly bitter. your hips attempt to close, but he’s already settled himself between your legs, and you can feel him smirk against your lips as he grinds his hips just enough for you to feel him. it makes you gasp against his lips, desire coursing through you again. you can feel how hard he is, the outline of his cock pressing against your inner thigh through his sweats. “you want this just as much as i do, don’t you?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice a low rasp. you can only nod, your breath catching in your throat as he rolls his hips again. “think you can take me, baby?” he smirks, one of his hands sliding down your body to pull your legs open further, pressing his clothed cock right against your core and grinding down, forcing a quiet moan from you. “please,” you whine out, your eyes fluttering shut as your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “yeah? want me inside you? stretching you out, filling you up for the first time?” he whispers against your lips, pressing his hips harder against yours as he lets out a strained breath. your breath hitches at the lewd words leaving his lips, but your cunt clenches around nothing. you finally crack, words spilling from your lips. “yes- please… want you,” you murmur, your eyes pleading with him, full of desire.

his smirk deepens, and he presses a final kiss to your lips before pushing himself up. his fingers dig into the waistband of his sweats, and in one fluid motion, he pulls them down along with his boxers. his cock slaps against his stomach, his tip angry and leaking, and your eyes widen at the sight. how the fuck was that going to fit inside you? he stroked himself a few times, huffing out a laugh at your surprised expression. “see something you like?” he asks, a teasing tone to his voice. you roll your eyes with a small smile, but you can’t hide the desire in your expression. the way your cunt clenches around nothing as your eyes flicker back down to where his cock strands. he leans down, hovering over you as he pulls one of your legs open, exposing you to himself further. his cock brushes against your inner thigh, his tip leaking against your skin and causing you to shudder. “is it… gonna hurt?” you ask quietly, almost feeling stupid for asking such a question. but he doesn’t judge you. his expression shifts from one of amusement to something more soft, his hand on your thigh rubbing gentle circles as he smiles at you. “it might sting a little bit,” he whispers back, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “but just relax for me, alright? i’ll take care of you.” you nod, your voice breathless as you reply. “okay.” your pulse races as his cock brushes against your folds, the reality of everything setting in. you’re about to lose your virginity. it makes a mix of anxiety and adrenaline rush through you, a mewl leaving you at the feeling. “that’s my girl,” he whispers, his hand leaving your thigh to grab his cock, rubbing himself up and down your folds, coating himself in your juices and drawing quiet moans from your lips, your hips pushing up just slightly, chasing the sensation. finally, he positions himself at your entrance, his hips pushing forward as he enters you. the stretch makes your breath catch in your throat. it stings. it’s overwhelming. it’s such a new feeling, sending a shiver down your spine as your cunt clenches around him, drawing a groan from his lips. “fuck,” you breathe out, your voice shaky and quiet, fading into a moan as your eyes clench shut. he pauses for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “you’re doing so good for me, baby,” he murmurs, his hand sliding to your cunt, rubbing soft circles on your clit and ripping a gasp from you. “just breathe for me.” it distracts you from the burning stretch, dulling the pain the slightest bit as your cunt clenches around him, his hips starting to move again. a soft, shaky breath leaves your lips, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders as he fills you completely. “feel good, princess?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft as his thumb continues to rub circles against your clit, a little faster now. you nod, words caught in your throat as the pleasure begins to mix with the pain, giving way to a sensation- a fullness- you’ve never felt before. finally, he bottoms out. you can fill every ridge and vein, your cunt pulsing around him as it struggles to accommodate the stretch. his thumb never stops circling your clit, easing you into full pleasure. he doesn’t move, simply resting inside you and letting you adjust to the new feeling. and slowly, the pain fades. replaced by pleasure, a want- a need- for more. your hips move slightly, a gasped moan slipping past your lips at the pleasure that rushes through you. “please,” you whimper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your eyes flutter open, meeting his. “move…”

slowly, carefully, he pulls out slightly, dragging out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. every roll of his hips presses him further inside you, making your mind hazy as you adjust to the fullness. “hee,” you whimper out, your head rolling back as the feeling grows more pleasurable, sending your head spiraling with every thrust. his thumb still circles your clit, drinking in every reaction you give him. “yeah, baby?” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, making you focus on him for a second. “still doing good?” you nod, your breath getting caught in your throat as he hits a particularly deep spot. it feels good. it feels so good. but you want more. you need more. “yeah,” you whisper. “feels good, but-“ you hesitate, but you don’t need to finish. you catch the way heeseung’s eyes darken immediately, his movements stilling for just a second, like he’s processing your words, before he’s moving again. “you want more, princess?” his voice is lower now, darker. hungrier. it makes you clench around him, a hiss leaving his lips, the corner of his lips quirking up. you nod frantically, your fingers gripping his shoulders as his hand leaves your clit to find purchase on your waist. “please,” you gasp out. “i need-“ you don’t get to finish. a moan spills from your throat as he pulls out, only to slam back in. his careful, slow, pace is gone in an instant, replaced by something deeper. something intoxicating. your fingers claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can to ground yourself as his thrusts speed up. “fuck,” he grits out, his head dropping to your shoulder as his hips snap forward again, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. “knew you’d take me so well, baby.” it’s too much. the pleasure builds, your moans getting louder. you can’t even control the noises leaving your mouth, too lost in the pleasure. you don’t even register how loud you’re getting until his hand clamps over your mouth. your eyes fly open, seeing him hovering over you now, his gaze half-lidded and dark. his lips are parted, uneven breaths leaving him as his hips continue to ram into you.“shh, princess,” he rasps, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he hits a particularly deep spot, making you moan out against his mouth. “only i get to hear those pretty sounds, yeah?” a muffled whimper leaves your mouth, your walls fluttering around him as you process his words. his pace never slows, pushing your limits, testing just how much you can really take. and you love it. “bet you’d sound so pretty if you could really let go,” he murmurs, his dark eyes staring into yours. his free hand trails down, resting on your stomach. your eyebrows furrow slightly, just before he presses down. your eyes roll back, a loud moan escaping your mouth and being concealed by his palm. it makes you feel him, all of him. stretching you. filling you completely. “you feel that, baby?” his fingers press harder, drawing another strangled moan from your lips as your eyes clench shut. “so fucking deep inside you. you take me so well, fuck-“ your body responds before you know what you’re doing. your hips roll up to meet his, desperate for more of the pleasure you’re experiencing. and heeseung loses it. “can you be quiet for me, princess?” he whispers. and you nod, hazy, dazed. he smirks, pressing harder on your stomach and pulling a broken moan from your lips as your body jolts beneath him. he slowly removes his hand from your mouth, sliding it down your body to grab your thigh, spreading you wider for him. a choked whimper leaves your lips, your mouth clenched shut as you try your hardest to hold your sounds in. but it feels too good. tears gather in your lashes, your body arching into his.

his cock twitches inside you, a dark grin on his face as he tilts his head at you. “what’s wrong, baby?” his voice is mocking, teasing, cruel. and it only drives you crazier. a tear slips down your cheek, your cunt clenching around him. you don’t trust your voice- hell, you don’t even know if you can speak right now.“too much?” he asks, but he doesn’t stop. if anything, he pushes deeper. you shake your head frantically, a broken sob leaving your lips as more tears spill down your cheeks. he sits back on his heels, the new angle pushing him deeper as a choked moan slips past your lips, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth. he only chuckles, his voice dripping with amusement- and something darker- as he watches you unravel beneath him. “feels good, doesn’t it?” it’s too much. it’s all too much. the coil in your stomach is winding tight, threatening to pull you over the edge at any second. and heeseung notices. he notices how your thighs began to shake, your moans turning into breathy, desperate whimpers, the way you clench around him. “close?” is all he asks, his eyes dark and lidded as he watches you. your hand slides from the sheet to his arm, desperate to find something to ground yourself as you teeter on the edge. “hee-“ you manage to gasp out, your voice breaking off into a moan as tears slide down your cheeks. he groans at the way you clench around him, his hand finding your clit again, rubbing tight, merciless circles, forcing you closer to the edge. and it’s too much. it builds so fast it makes your head spin. hell, you don’t even feel like you’re real at this point.“come for me, princess,” he groans out, thrusting particularly deep inside you. “let go.”your orgasm rips through you, your back arching off the bed as you cry out, a loud, broken moan barely muffled by your hand. your vision goes white, your body locking up as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had takes over your body. but he doesn’t stop. his pace doesn’t falter for a second, fucking you through your high, testing your limits as the pleasure shifts into something more intense. your body can barely keep up. you’re sobbing, gasping, your body stuck between pushing him away and pulling him closer. “just a bit longer, baby,” he groans, his hand moving from your clit to your waist, holding you still as his thrusts turn erratic. your eyes roll back, your poor body unable to keep up with the pleasure you’re feeling. and then, a low guttural moan escapes heeseung’s lips, his hips pressing as hard as they can against yours as he finally spills inside you. the sensation of being filled has you gasping, clenching around him as his body trembles with his orgasm. slowly, he lowers himself down, pressing soft kisses to your lips to ease you back to reality, your dazed eyes meeting his as ragged breaths escape your lips. you’re wrecked. “you did so good for me, princess,” he murmurs, his voice breathless as his lips trail soft kisses down your jaw, his warm hands soothing over your trembling thighs, slowly pulling you back down to earth. you can’t even find the words to speak. you only nod, your hand slowly lifting to tangle in his hair, just resting there. he chuckles, leaning up to look at you. a soft smile forms on his lips, his thumbs brushing the tears off of your cheeks. “you okay?” you nod again, your voice wrecked, barely more than a whisper. “yeah.”

he doesn’t say anything, simply watching you. his gaze is so soft, his touch featherlight against your skin. his hips pull back slowly, making you gasp at the sensitivity it sends through you. and then he’s pulling out, his hands moving down to your hips as he sits back on his heels. your hips shift, adjusting to the empty feeling, a shiver running through you when you feel his cum dripping out of you. heeseung pauses, his eyes fixed on the sight, hands gripping your hips tighter as he breathes out, “fuck…” your face heats up, self-consciousness taking over when it finally sets in that you’re completely exposed in front of him. your legs attempt to close, a whine leaving your lips- but heeseung’s faster. his hands grip your thighs, keeping you held open as a smile forms on his lips. “don’t get all shy on me now, baby,” his voice is quiet, his eyes flickering up to yours as you avert your gaze. your hips shift, another soft, embarrassed noise leaving you, but he simply laughs under his breath. “you were just moaning for me a few minutes ago.” “heeseung,” you mumble, dragging out his name as you continue to move beneath him, trying to pull your thighs out of his grasp. your hands attempt to bat his away halfheartedly, but you’re too exhausted to actually push him, watching the way he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth with a smile while watching your struggle. he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your stomach that has your breath catching, your hands halting their movements. “you were so good for me. look at you,” he mumbles, his eyes dragging over your body slowly, “all fucked out and pretty.” you let out a noise of protest, slapping at his shoulder before your hands come up to cover your face, groaning against your hands. “okay,” he laughs, finally letting go of your legs. “i’ll stop. don’t want you crying again.” you huff, turning your head to hide your face in the pillow, but a smile tugs at your lips. “you’re the worst.” he only laughs again, slipping off the bed, and you hear his footsteps moving away from the bed. “mhm. didn’t hear you complaining earlier.” you let out a dramatic groan, completely turning your body away from him, choosing not to answer this time.

when he finally returns, he sits down on the bed, one hand gently pulling your leg up, exposing you to him again. “heeseung,” you whine, lifting your head to look at him. his eyes flicker up to yours, before looking down again, the wet rag making contact with your legs and making you gasp, everything still so sensitive. “relax,” he whispers, his touch gentle, moving ever so carefully over the parts that make you flinch, your legs shifting with every pass. you nod into the pillow, finally letting your body relax again as your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion slowly taking over your body. “there we go,” he murmurs, tossing the rag aside and settling in bed besides you, pulling the covers over the both of you. his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him, your body instantly relaxing into his. his fingers rake through your hair, slow and comforting, making you let out a soft sigh, curling further into him. “you good?” he whispers again, like he always have to make sure you’re alright. “yeah,” you you yawn, shifting and closing your eyes. “tired.” you hear a soft, breathy laugh leaving his lips, before he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers resuming their movements in your hair. “go to sleep, y/n.” you nod, letting the beating of heeseung’s heart in your ear guide you into a slumber as sleep lulls you away.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“one iced coffee, please,” you smile, holding out a ten-dollar bill to the cashier in front of you. she gives you a look, but smiles back, taking the cash anyway. “no hot chocolate today?” you wave your hand dismissively, biting back a giddy smile. “oh, it’s not for me.” she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push, simply nodding and punching in your order. “alright, then. we’ll have that out soon.” you rock back and forth on your feet, wonyoung and yunjin waiting at a table behind you. once your order is out, you’re walking back to the girls with a bit more pep in your step, holding the cup up to signal you’re ready to leave. you begin to walk out the door, a giddy smile on your lips as you look down at the coffee, before back up- completely oblivious to the look wonyoung and yunjin share. “so, why’d you get an iced coffee?” yunjin asks, tilting her head as she looks at the drink in your hand. “oh, just for someone,” you smile, shrugging lightly as you continue to walk. “you look too happy,” wonyoung teases you, poking your cheek as she watches the smile on your face grow larger, “what happened?” “nothing, guys!” you laugh, pushing wonyoung’s hand away. you continue to walk, making a beeline for the gym. you don’t miss the confused looks they send you as you speed up slightly. “okay, seriously, where are we going?” wonyoung asks, speeding up slightly as she picks up on the direction you’re headed. “the gym? the basketball team is in there right now,” yunjin adds, scrunching her eyebrows. “y/n. y/n? that means heeseung is in there! hello?” you don’t even hesitate when you open the gym doors, the two girls trailing behind you, clearly confused. “y/n. why are we in here?” wonyoung hisses, grabbing your arm as the sound of squeaking shoes and a basketball hitting the floor fills the air.

and then, all the noises slow. the guys spare a glance at you, before doing a double take once they recognize you. because heeseung has talked about you. and they’ve seen you with him. but the moment heeseung sees you, his focused expression shifts. his sharp gaze softens, a smile forming on his face as his feet slow to a stop. he starts moving, jogging over slowly. his shirt is slightly damp, his breathing slightly heavy. “hi, pretty girl,” he smiles, his gaze warmer. wonyoung’s grip on your arm loosens, and you can see her jaw drop from the corner of your eye. “hi,” you reply, holding out the coffee, “i brought you coffee.” he grins, taking the cup and tilting his head. “really? i thought you hated iced coffee.” you bite back a laugh, shaking your head lightly before shrugging. “you don’t.” you watch as his smile shifts into something else. something in his eyes that you can’t process, but he’s looking at you like you placed the stars in the sky. it makes your stomach flip, a blush forming on your cheeks. his hand slips around your waist, tugging you closer as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. your hand instinctively grabs onto his jersey, tugging him slightly closer, your lips forming into a smile against his. “hello?” you hear yunjin ask, a few guys behind you laughing. “what?” you ask, pulling back from heeseung’s lips, tilting your head with a small smile. “am i not allowed to come say hi to my boyfriend?” silence. until wonyoung squeals, practically yanking yunjin towards her. “i called it!” even heeseung himself seems a bit thrown off guard, his eyes widening a bit before he pulls himself together, a smug grin pulling at the corner of his lips. “oh?” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for you to hear. “say that again?” “damn, y/n,” jake laughs, stepping up besides the two of you and clapping heeseung on the back. “you managed to lock the playboy down.” “so,” jake continues, nodding at the drink in your hand with a shit-eating grin, “care to bring me one of those next time?” you don’t even get to open your mouth before heeseung is speaking. “no.” jake blinks. “i was talking to-“ “still no.” he throws his hands up, turning on his heel and walking away, grumbling out, “forget i asked.” you roll your eyes, suppressing a smile as you look back at heeseung, who simply shrugs at you. he’s insufferable. and he’s yours. 

AFTER FIGHTING FOR THREE DAYS... I GOT IT TO WORK. sorry about the weird formatting at some points, it's the only way i was able to fit this whole fic into one post ^^! also,, did not realize how much i wrote "and then" until i was editing this god damn girl stop sing those words for one second... hope you guys enjoyed !!!!

taglist: @bussolares @w3willris3 @nithxhoon @elairah @fancypeacepersona @talesofthegreatest @jaehoonii @onlyticket-home @cutehoons02 @isagistar @immelissaaa @seongiewon @llearlert @rosepetals09 @cloud-lyy @enhaheart8 @millisvlog @rayofsunshineeee @littlesweettea-aine @evorlaah @kittycatwonie @somuchdard @miraeluv @heewenos @katarinamae @h4niyahcar @aejakeslvr @girlwholovekpop @dearestdreamies

^i tried to tag everyone, but some ppl weren’t coming up so if urs doesn’t work i’m sorry abt that😭

border creds: @uzmacchiato

[iluvbuckets]

can you do a fic of paige based off a prompt like this https://www.tumblr.com/tullipsoftheearth/782579912994390016/im-not-sleeping-over-prank

i'm not sleeping over

 paige bueckers x fem!reader 

summary: you and paige are both athletes at uconn, and you decide that it would be funny to do the "I'm not sleeping over tonight" prank

warnings: nothin just fluff

word count: 1.1k

notes: not my best work but that's bc I'm better at sad and yearning. here's my treat since i won't be able to write tomorrow bc I'm gonna go get drunk!

✷✷✷

you and paige weren’t a secret, but you were definitely private. 

still, sometimes you knew what you had to do and provide your tiktok followers with paige content. before you met paige, you didn’t really post much on tiktok. sure, you were extremely active with watching videos, but you only posted sporadically for big game days or when you were at home. however, since you met paige, that changed.

you met her at one of your tennis matches. she would maintain that it was completely fate that you happened to be sitting on the bench watching your teammates when she and azzi sat down next to you, and that may have been true the first time. but then it happened a second time, and then a third time, and you knew it was no accident. she had talked to you all three times, but the third time, she finally asked if you wanted to hang out with her. 

you were just friends for quite a while before she finally asked you on a date.

it was no secret that the uconn women’s basketball team was active on social media between dancing tiktok’s and lives, so you weren’t shocked by any means when they would ask you to be in a video or you would happen to be there when they were live. the first video you were in was a dancing video with kk and paige at one of your tennis matches when you and paige first started hanging out, and the comments were so confused about who you were. they didn’t know what to think.

their followers quickly warmed up to you when they realized how unintentionally funny you were, though, and you found yourself with tons of new followers that you were not expecting. 

you had been caught in quite a few lives, whether you were front and center with them doing crumbl reviews or just happened to be in the back, but you didn’t mind. and that’s how your relationship with paige became public knowledge, even if you two hadn’t explicitly confirmed or denied anything.

while kk was live sitting at paige’s desk, paige was leaning against her dresser to be in frame while you were lying on her bed. at some point, you asked paige to fill your water bottle since she was up, which she did without arguing, of course. the comments were already going crazy over that, but all hell broke loose when she brought it back. she handed it to you and leaned down to peck you on the lips. it should’ve been fine since you were seemingly out of frame, but you both had completely forgotten that everyone could see in the mirrored closet doors. 

it wasn’t that you wanted to keep each other a secret by acting like you were just friends, but you both agreed that you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. she preferred to keep her private life private and so did you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t post to each other sometimes. 

one day while you were lying in her bed, scrolling through tiktok to pass the time until she got home from practice, you found the perfect trend that you knew would be hilarious. 

you had planned to do it as a stand-alone video, but when kk set up her phone to start a live, you knew it was the perfect time to do it. it was just you and her sitting on the couch, so before she started it and while paige was grabbing something from her room, you whispered the plan to her. she nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“hey y’all,” kk said as people started pouring in. 

you were sitting on the couch together, her phone on the corner of the coffee table angled to make sure you were both in it. you had planned to stand up when paige entered the room to act like you were leaving–so you had your shoes and sweatshirt on with your keys in your pocket–and kk would flip the camera.

finally after a few minutes, paige emerged from the hallway carrying a blanket with a big, goofy smile on her face. you almost felt bad, but it definitely wasn’t going to stop you. you stood up, and kk quickly snatched her phone to flip the camera.

“i’m gonna head back to my dorm,” you said with a straight face, like you were genuine. obviously, you had zero plans to head back, considering you had probably been sleeping in paige’s for about four straight weeks.

“for real? let me grab my shoes then,” she replied. you tried not to laugh as she went to  set her blanket down on the counter. you should’ve known that she would assume you meant her too.

“no, i meant i’m gonna head back by myself.”

she gave you a weird look and laughed. “nah, nah.”

“i want to sleep in my own bed tonight,” you said sadly, almost breaking.

kk’s comments were blowing up about how funny paige’s obvious clinginess is and trying to decipher if it was real or not. the general consensus was that it was indeed the trend, but you were selling it extremely well. 

“why?” she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. you could hear kk giggling from the corner, so paige shot her a warning side eye. she seemed to notice that kk was either recording or live from the way she was holding her phone, so she fully turned toward her. “my girlfriend doesn’t like me anymore.” 

you lightly shoved her shoulder, mouth dropping open in disbelief, “i didn’t say that!” 

“yes, you did.” this time she gave you the side eye playfully with a tight smile.

you rolled your eyes at her, but decided to keep up with the bit. “come on, you have a morning lift tomorrow and i don’t feel like being woken up at the same time as you.”

“you’ve never complained before!” she cried. this time her mouth was the one that dropped open in disbelief at her words. you couldn’t contain your laugh at her reaction, seemingly desperate to get you to change your mind.

“i’m just kidding, paige. have you not seen that trend?” you laughed. kk joined you in the laughter this time, not having to try to contain it.

she crossed her arms and pouted again. “s’not funny.” 

the comments were rolling in with people making fun of paige and saying how good of an actor you were, and you knew you would see the clip on your for you page in the morning. 

you would probably comment alongside her fans about how genuinely upset she was and how funny it was.

[chaoticwriting]

Old Friend

It's been a few years since Danny became Phantom and now that he is 20, Vlad finally lets him take over the position of CEO of Vlad co. Of course that is after extensive therapy from multiple therapists including Jazz. Apparently, his mental state is the worst by medical standards, almost at the level of the Joker.

But anyway, now that he is healed and sane, he decides to do one last thing before he goes into retirement, preferably somewhere in the Infinite realm. And that is to visit his old friends.

First and foremost is to visit Jack and Maddie. Here, they reconcile and Vlad exposes himself as Plasmius. Jack and Maddie are shocked but after Jazz vouches for him, they accept and apologize to him for not realizing his problem before.

Danny also takes the opportunity to reveal himself. This time though, it is a bit tougher for his parents. Not only did they almost always attack their child, the realization that Danny has died because of their lab negligence falls heavy on their shoulders. After some discussion, they finally settle down now that no more secrets are to be kept.

Later on, Vlad goes around the world meeting his old friends from college and high school when suddenly, Danny receives a call from Vlad. Apparently, he wants him to join him at a gala hosted by one of his old friends. He can bring a plus one but considering that Jazz has work and Ellie is somewhere in the Middle East, Danny is really the only available person left.

Since Vlad asks nicely, Danny accepts the offer and prepares to fly to Gotham. Vlad has already prepared everything he needs and is just waiting for him to arrive. That night, they go to the gala as a pair of black and white. Vlad wears a clean white suit with a red necktie while Danny wears a sleek black suit with a green necktie.

As they enter, Vlad explains to Danny the people attending the gala just in case he ever needs the connection. He also tells him about their scandal and some blackmail materials he has on them. Hearing that some of them are straight up criminals, Danny can't help but be shocked.

Vlad: It's fine. Most of the people I'm going to introduce to you are at most worth a year or 2 in jail. The ones with more severe crimes I either already sent them to prison when I take over their business or in a ditch somewhere in a ravine.

Danny: That's surprisingly ethical of you.

Vlad: Eeehh, at that time I wasn't as insane as I get later on. It actually got pretty bad after I met you.

Danny: Are you saying I make you go crazy?

Vlad: Oh no, what I mean is that you just speed up the process. Each defeat I take causes me to go more insane.

Just as they are chatting, a big happy voice sounded behind them.

????: Vladdy! It's good to see you after so long. How are you doing?

Vlad turning around gives out the most genuine smile he has seen since the reconciliation with his parents.

Vlad: Bruce! I'm doing great. Sorry I haven't contacted you for so long. I'm quite busy with certain things. Anyway, let me introduce my godson. This is Daniel Fenton. I'm thinking of giving him my position as the CEO after I retire.

Bruce: You're retiring already? You are so young. Anyway, good to see you Danny. Let me introduce you, this is my daughter, Cassandra Cain-Wayne. And this is my youngest son, Damian Wayne.

What both Bruce and Vlad don't expect however is the sudden hostility between two of the kids.

Danny: Cain.

Cass: Fenton.

Danny: I see that you are living a good life.

Cass: I am. What about you though? Still struggling to climb a ladder?

Danny: A ladder? I could easily climb mountains now. What about you? Still using ASL when talking to people you don't know?

Cass: Unlike you, I'm quite a fast learner. I don't need any technology to help me in my daily life.

Danny: Oh my god! That is one time. You can't seriously be thinking I use it every time I need to fight.

Cass: Well that one time is the only time I have seen you do it. As far as I am concerned, you might not even know how to throw a punch.

Danny: You know what, Cain? Fuck you and your height. How does it feel to need to look up when you want to talk with me?

Suddenly, Danny's knees buckle down as Cass kicks his knees making him kneel.

Cass: Awww, there is no need for you to kneel to me. I know you feel guilty about the chocolate thing.

With a red face Danny stands up again and flicks her forehead.

Danny: Not as guilty as leaving me hanging alone without notice.

Suddenly, both of them quieten down.

Bruce: So, I'm not really going to interrupt but do you both know each other?

Vlad: Yeah, I was about to ask the same thing. I don't know you know the daughter of my friend, Danny.

Danny: We go way back.

Cass doesn't speak but there is the reminiscent look in her eyes. There is also guilt in her eyes but that is for Bruce to ask later.

Vlad looks at Bruce and Bruce looks at Vlad. After communicating like that for a while, they decide to separate first and meet up later because clearly the kids are not in the mood to hang around with.

Just as Vlad and Danny walk away, Damian eyes Danny. For some reason, he looks really familiar to him.

Part 2

[mulderscully]

okay. i need people to understand the main issue here. ncuti gatwa is the first (full time) black doctor. his entrance was overshadowed by david tennant. his entire run has been the least watched run, many of you admit you did not watch his era. now, after only 16 episodes and a few specials he has regenerated and all people are talking about is billie piper. do you really not see the issue at all? and don't even get me started on what they did to belinda! i'm so BOGGLED by the amount of disrespect thrown at fifteen. he barely got to BE HIS OWN CHARACTER. we barely know him and he's gone. unreal.

[mortisghost]

Jurnal #64

Hi! Second issue of the Journal on Tumblr, and number 64 in fact, 64 like the Nintendo 64, a console I adored as a child and that I hate viscerally today, even more than the damned Wii. However, Ocarina of Time remains one of my all-time favorite games, and yes, I am a contradictory person, driven by unjust hatred. Don't send me a PM to talk about this; it'll make me seethe with rage!! (Really, don't do it). What interesting things did I do this week besides write a very long list of reasons to hate the N64 (which I won't share)? Well, like last week, mainly commissioned images that I'm unfortunately unable to reveal to you. But I also used my free time to advance two comic book projects I'm currently working on, and I can show that to you. First, with a few friends as geeky as I am, we have the ambition to create a small illegal fanzine with superhero stories. I've already written a short Silver Surfer episode for my friend Félix Laurent (which can be found here, but unfortunately only in French), and I'm now working on a little Superman adventure, which I'll draw myself. It'll be called "Superman Speaks," and I think it will be fun and touching. I love the Superman character, even though I find he's very rarely used. Here are some images!

The other comic book project I'm spending some of my free time on is a much longer story. I already showed you excerpts from it last time, here are a few more. It's a tragic story with doctors, a homeless man, and a sick baby. It's inspired by Dostoyevsky's "Crime and Punishment," a book I love and recommend if you like mentally tortured humans; it's truly amazing.

Finally, I can't conclude this post without telling you that Fangamer released a demo of the new version of Off this month! It's called "Prologue," and it includes the entire first zone of the game. If you're interested, I highly recommend you try it out and send us and the development team your feedback so we can further improve everything we can before the release, which will take place later this year. OFF PROLOGUE ON STEAM

That's all for this Jurnal. My recommendations for the month are the film "Love Streams" by John Cassavetes, one of my all-time favorites, and also iced coffees when it's a little too hot outside. I love these things!!

Sending you kind thoughts, don't think about the N64 too much, see you next time!

[escapaldi]

Yeah, the thing that I think a lot of people tend to forget about parenting is that there's a role for people that's not reliant on biological or adoptive family roles that's a lot more transient that fits Law and Cora's relationship extremely well: foster family.

I'm not here to extol the virtues or condemn the flaws of foster parenting systems, but as someone who grew up seeing the good, the bad, and the everything in between, I look at the Law-Cora relationship and very clearly see that relationship, which honestly looks different depending on the people in it. Fostering (at least where I'm from) is only meant to be temporary--anything from a weekend to a few months--but sometimes it turns out longer stays than that. It's meant for kids to have a stable place while their normal adults are working their shit out. Sometimes a foster family turns into an adoptive family, but other times they're just another group in a long chain of situations. It can be the closest thing to a family one has ever had, or just people who you later exchange cards with. Anything from "Mom" or "Dad" to "Ms" or "Mr" to just using given names like weird siblings--it's different for everyone.

Law's biological family was wiped out. He had no one. Then Doflamingo comes along and does the sinister version of adoption. This terminally-ill tween goes from one horror story to another. Say what you will, but Doflamingo was not in the correct headspace to raise children. Look at what he ultimately did to Baby 5 and Dellinger. But Law... Cora learned something crucial about him and decided that he needed to get into a better place, ASAP. He took emergency responsibility and carted his ass all over trying to get him help so that he could one day be stable, because as also ill-prepared to handle the upkeep of a child as Cora was, he had the love and compassion that his brother lacked, which is frankly the key here.

Are there other foster parents in One Piece who do things very different? Yes--I can go on a whole fucking rant about how Dadan was a piece of shit if I wanted to--but that's not the point here.

I do imagine that, should there be a Coco-style afterlife in One Piece, if there is no one waiting to greet Law when he arrives, he'll go searching for his family before all others. His parents, his sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins; he'll find the Flevench Trafalgars and they'll be delighted that he's hopefully come back to them old and gray and with a lifetime of stories to tell, of medical advancements, and the proof that he honored them by continuing their practice of medicine. That he took the hands he wanted to use to murder and used them to heal instead, because that's what we're watching Law try to do in canon. He becomes better than the soldiers who razed their home, which is the ultimate revenge.

...but then, on the edge of the crowd of his relatives, he catches sight of blond hair in a red hat and he realizes who it is, and his father urges him to go, and his mother says it's alright because they've already talked, and Law--who left the living as a great-grandfather and stoic patriarch--meets this man who died the same age as a grandkid was at his funeral and fucking loses it, because although he was far from perfect--Nika above he wasn't perfect by a long-shot--he was the first adult who cared anything close to what his parents did... was the one who took care of him until he reached his adopted family (in this case, his brothers Penguin-Shachi-Bepo), and was the one who made sure he lived. Countless people were helped with Law's medical knowledge as he honored his biological parents, but he only lived long enough to do so because of Cora... because both parenting situations were important, even though their relationships were really different.

Do I think that in a canon sense Cora would have tried to adopt Law had he lived long enough? Yeah. Do I think that it would have changed Law's trajectory much, pulling him away from honoring his parents and Flevance and keeping their medical traditions alive? Not at all. It's honestly a given that Law loves and honors his parents, given his chosen profession; what's interesting is that he also honors the one who only had him for six months, because they were just as impactful on him, just in a different way.

I am also sorry about the rant but I have feelings about this.

Poor Law thinks he's hallucinating about his dead father 😭

I already said this over on Blueskye but-

I personally don't really see Cora as a parental figure/dad, if only cuz OP is usually rather overt about those sorts of relationships (Zeff, Bellmere, Whitebeard, etc).

I like them being this weird, nebulous sort of deal that isn't defined by nuclear family roles. Law never refers to him as a father figure or even an older brother. He's just Cora-san.

Law HAD A DAD who was nurturing and loving and patient and taught him a lot of stuff, and Cora is very, VERY different from that, (and also not old enough to be Law's dad either-)

In the end, I just don't like people always needing to put "found family" into hardcut nuclear family roles. Human connection is more complex than that.

He's just Cora-san :y

[pricegotmedickmatized]

I just got a new jumpsuit and didn't realize anytime I need to use the bathroom I need someone to untie me because of the way it lays on my back. (It's stupid and annoying but it was my first time wearing it so I didn't know)

Now I'm just picturing a pretty bird going up to the 141 and asking them to undress her (because she's tipsy, can't find her friends, and needs to use the bathroom but her own outfit is holding her hostage lol) what would the boys reactions be?

YELLING I HAVE TO YELL OMG I LOVE I LOVE I LOVE!!! (also bestie that sounds so annoying it would have to be the CUTEST jumpsuit for me to want to keep it once i had that realization)

ok here we go:

price: he's been aware of you, dancing and singing along to the songs over head across the club that he only agreed to come to because soap and gaz threatened mutiny if he and ghost didn't come along. (and to prevent possible crimes. it's happened before when they're unsupervised.) he's been enjoying watching you dance, but hasn't made a move to interrupt you. it's not his scene and he's got a great view. figured when you needed a breather he could swoop in and introduce himself. but then you glance around the club, frowning and swaying a little, and when your eyes find him you beam and beeline right for him. you're obviously a little tipsy, a little handsy, giggling with slightly glazed eyes and a flushed, pretty face (he wonders if you look like this when you've just been fucked, hopes he can compare from personal experience) and you ask him for some help in the bathroom. and he would say no, he's a gentleman and much as he'd like to you're in no state, but then some asshole sitting beside him tries to swoop in and he has to shut that shit down fast. he takes you in to the staff bathroom after speaking with the bartender (and exchanging a little money), and is a perfect gentleman about it. really. (there were like three mirrors in the bathroom and he got a good fucking view when he was leaving to guard the door from the outside while you peed, and he was definitely looking through his hand shielding his eyes when he came back in.) and if he lets his hands linger a little as he laces you back up, if he kisses your shoulder and lets his hands drop to squeeze your waist - well then who could blame him, really? he drops you back with your friends with your number in his phone and a kiss to the cheek. "See you 'round, pretty bird."

ghost: like price, he'd been dragged to the club against his will. soap has been begging him to be his wingman (why is anyone's guess, it's not like ghost's great at. like. talking to birds.) and he finally gave in and agreed just to shut him up. he's having a rough time, honestly, it's loud and crowded and not his scene at all, but what's making it bearable is the pretty bird in a jumpsuit having a ball out on the dance floor. he's trying not to be obvious about watching, but soap's caught him a couple times, enough to tease him (annoying little shit, he'll have the fucker run drills til he pukes), enough even for you to notice, flashing him smiles and even waving at him across the floor. (he froze for a full minute before his hand twitched, raising halfway before he realized you weren't even looking at him anymore and he put it down.) he watches you look around, craning your neck, trying to find something, and is arguing with himself about his instinct to walk over and ask what you need when suddenly you're walking over to him. his ears and face burn with heat as you brace yourself with a hand on his upper thigh to lean in and ask sweetly against his ear if he'll help you out of your jumpsuit, and he can't speak for a long moment, his brain just static. until soap (he knows how to get the LT back online) tries to offer to help and ghost surges to a standing position, bristling like an angry cat "sit the fuck down, sergeant. i can handle this" he walks you into the mens bathroom like it's nothing, and one barked order has all the drunks scattering like rats. he locks the door behind the last of them and ensures the bathroom is clear (and selects the cleanest stall) before his shaking hands get you out. he spends the time you're in the stall firmly telling himself not to get hard, that it's just being a good samaritan or whatever. it's no big deal. but then you come out, batting your eyes and asking for help, one hand holding the waist of the jumpsuit up and the other covering your tits, and he nearly falls to his knees. yeah, he decides as he fumbles to try to get you redressed, he's gotta get your number or something. "So love. Where do you live?"

gaz: this is one of his favorite bars. not too overpriced, not too 'hole in the wall', frequented by people his age rather than just the old locals who's grandparents went and sat in their same chairs however many years back, and yet it's not totally overwhelmed by tourists. it's really the perfect bar. it's his go-to when he wants to blow off steam or get a good old fashioned or, like tonight, dance. he saw you come in with your friends, huddled together like a pack of lionesses on the hunt, all dressed up and ready to swoop in for the kill. he took one look at you and groaned out loud, enough for the bloke next to him to look over at you and your friends and whistle softly. he swooped in before anyone else could get a chance to, glad to escort you over to the dance floor, supervise your trips to the bar, one eye on the bartender and any other man who dared try to get close, his other eye on you as you talked. you're a lightweight, that much is for sure, or maybe you just don't drink that often if all it takes for you to get all cute and tipsy is two vodka crans and a few sips of his beer from the bottle he keeps dangled between his fingers while his arms are around you. you smell and feel like heaven, and he'd originally been planning to take you back to his, but he's not sure that's on the table anymore when you stumble back, giggling against his chest. and then you lift that pretty face and ask him so sweet to help you find your friends because you 'need help' in the bathroom, and he swears he nearly goes blind as arousal hits him hard and fast. he plays the gentleman at first, offering gallantly to help you find your friends, but would you look at that, nowhere to be seen? oh well, he's happy to help if you'd like, baby. he takes you to the ladies' room, a charming smile and a short explanation preventing any alarm from rising as the bathroom empties. he keeps his eyes closed ('fumbling' or really just groping and feeling up your hot skin and the perfect give to your body under his hands), babbling apologies when his hands 'slip' as he unties and then reties you. by the time you're all laced up again your hands are running over his chest, your thighs pressing together and a needy look replacing the tipsy gaze in your eye. he cups your chin, smiling charmingly. "I think I'd like to do that again sometime. But maybe at my place, and not a bathroom. And you'd take it all the way off...and keep it off."

soap: he fucking loves going to clubs. gay clubs, strip clubs, german clubs, overpriced nightclubs, hole in the wall barely staying afloat clubs, underground punk clubs, whatever, he loves them all. and while he loves dragging his team out with him whenever he can, he doesn't drag them out every time he goes, think how much work that would be to make sure they have a good time while he's working his magic with a pretty hen. so he's alone when he sees you across the dance floor, and he's instantly in love with the way your hips move. he's never been shy about wanting a lass a day in his life, and you're not different in the least. you move against him like a goddamn dream and he's been half hard for the last few dances, his hands on your hips and his mouth on your neck, and he would press for more but he's admittedly had a few drinks and so have you, so he's trying to keep a clear head and at least pretend to be a gentleman (even if he's already put a hand on your tits and squeezed when they put Buttons on earlier, smirking when it made you shiver). but then you turn around, crowding close, and manage to convey to him that you have to find your friends for some 'help in the bathroom'. he grins like a wolf and says he can give you everything you need. admittedly his mind is in the gutter and he doesn't even care about the women gasping in shock when you tow him inside, just smiles and waves at them all. and of course he's disappointed when you reassure them that you're not having sex, he's just helping you with the back of your jumpsuit. (he thinks it's fascinating how all the women take one look at the back and immediately nod, empathetic noises coming from them) no one leaves and he's all smirks and wandering hands, praise pouring out of his mouth at your dancing skills, how good you smell, how pretty your skin is, hen, wow, look at that when the top slips and he gets a good peek over your shoulder at your tits before you cover them. the other girls giggle as you playfully smack him before ducking into a stall, and he just smiles and leans against the wall waiting for you. "you're a really good boyfriend" some girl sighs wistfully. "my Tom would never set foot in a ladies room" he doesn't correct her, just thanks her and tells her to ditch Tom, which is met with raucous applause. when you emerge from the stall he plasters himself to your back as he ties you back up, playfully saying "such a shame to cover all this back up, lassie. but i can take you back to mine and get a proper look later." your eyes meet his in the mirror, blushing hard, and you ask, "is that a threat?" "no, hen, s'a promise."

[keirareidss]

maneater - s.r

♡ summary: spencer insults you when he's going through withdrawals so you find a way to get back at him pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v wc: 2.1k a/n: this took me a WHILE to get out, sorry y'all, but here it is finally! and here's the request

Sharing a hotel room with Spencer was usually your favorite part of traveling for cases. Once Hotch released you all from the grasp of the stale coffee and fluorescent lights of the precinct you had taken up residence in, you'd head back to the hotel together. You and Spencer would quietly chat about anything and everything, the book he's reading, the book you're reading, weekend plans (if this case didn't take over your life for the next 7 days).

But this case, well, really the last few cases, Spencer had been acting a bit... bitchy. And you knew bitchy. You were bitchy. You proudly held the title of most bitchy. But getting it from Spencer? The kindest, most adorable man you've ever met snapping at you. It was unusual.

"Do you want first shower?"

"No." He answered shortly, not looking up from the file in front of him.

"You sure?"

"If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have said it." He muttered, not even trying to lower his voice. You bristled, but headed to the bathroom, letting him be.

You knew Spencer hadn't been the same since his abduction. He may be trying to act like everything's fine, but you could see right through him. You didn't know if it was because he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was, or if you just knew him better than anyone else. It didn't matter. Something was off with him.

Lately he'd been irritable, short with everyone, and sassy. He talked back to Hotch, which you'd never seen him do before. He kept his distance from Emily, and you were most often the only person he was civil to. You didn't know whether to be flattered or worried.

You stepped out of the shower, heading back into the hotel room where Spencer sat in the same position you'd left him in, cross legged on the bed, hunched forward, poring over the files.

"Your turn." You hummed, heading to your bed. When he didn't move, you glanced at him. "Are you going to shower?"

"That's none of your business." He snapped. You knew if he didn't shower he would regret it. He'd feel gross all day the next day unless he showered in the morning but he wouldn't want to do that either and go to work with wet hair. But if he wanted to continue to be a jackass, then fine. You'd mind your own business.

It was now the third day of the case and you were no closer to finding the young girl than the past two days. Hotch had given everyone tasks and made you stay in the precinct with Spencer to work on the geographical profile. You guessed it was because neither he nor anyone else on the team wanted to stay in the same room with a grown man who currently had the personality of a rebellious teenage girl for longer than necessary.

You were slouched in the most uncomfortable hard-backed chair you'd ever been in, your feet up on the table, a file in your lap. You'd tried talking to Spencer, tried helping with the case, but every time you gave any kind of input, he'd respond with some snarky comment, undermining you completely.

It was really starting to piss you off.

"Do we have the file on Mckenna Dempsey?" You asked, glancing across the table. Spencer stood at the board, pinning string to the map to connect the dump sites of the bodies, not even turning to look at you.

"It's right in front of you." He said, his tone filled with sass and you rolled your eyes, stretching to grab the file.

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but it's annoying."

"What's going on with me? There's nothing going on with me." He scoffed.

"Really? You've been short with everyone for the past three weeks, we haven't hung out in forever, and you look... different."

"Oh, I look different? What great observation skills you have, agent. I'm so glad you stayed behind to help, I really needed your expertise." He snarks.

"That. That is exactly what I'm talking about. Old Spencer never would have said that to me."

"Old Spencer? Wha- what are you even talking about, right now?" You sighed and grabbed your purse from the floor, giving up on talking to him.

"Never mind, Spence. You'd just snap at me anyway." You really weren't in the mood to bicker with him. It was more fun when it was playful. When he'd let out a little giggle between comebacks and he'd blush when you made eye contact.

You set your bag on the table, slipping a compact mirror out and touching up your lip gloss.

"There's nothing different about me. The only thing that's changed is I'm doing all the work while you sit there and do nothing." You scoffed.

"Right. Your personality's not different at all. You've never been this testy before." You retorted, not looking away from your mirror.

"Well maybe if you were actually trying to help instead of vainly staring at yourself in the mirror, I wouldn't have to be so testy." Spencer snaps. You flick your compact mirror shut, your gaze snapping to him. Simply the slight tilt of your head told everyone watching that hell was about to be raised.

"Did you really just say that to me?" The corner of your lips quirked up maliciously. There was a small inkling in Spencer's brain that told him he'd crossed a line. He'd blatantly insulted you and blamed you for his attitude. But the other part of him, the part that was craving a needle in his arm right now, urged him to keep going. And lately its been getting harder and harder to say no to that side of him.

"Has your hearing stopped working too?" You scoffed.

"Unbelievable. You are being such an asshole lately and you do not get to talk to me like that. If you had more than two brain cells working right now, you'd realize that I am the only person who can stand to be around you and once you finally piss me off enough, you'll be alone." He was silent, his lips pressed together tightly. "I know something is going on with you and you need to figure it out. Because it's affecting other people. Now, I'm going to go get a soda. Do you want anything?" You asked, your voice still firm as you stood up.

"No." He mumbled and you stared at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. When he didn't hear you leave, he glanced up at you. "No thank you." He said and you stalked out of the room, giving him room to cool off. If you were going to be the only one who could stand working with him, you had to make sure he knew that you were in charge.

You trudged into your hotel room late that night. The team had gotten a good lead (staying out of the precinct all day probably helped them), and stayed late. Spencer trekked inside behind you. He had followed you like a lost puppy once Hotch sent you all to the hotel, feeling guilty for being so sour with you earlier.

"You can have first shower." He says.

"Oh can I?" You said sarcastically and he winces, heading to his bed and shuffling onto it. You stood at the edge of your bed, your go-bag on top of the comforter, but you weren't looking at it. You were paying attention to Spencer. You could tell he felt guilty by the way he curled into himself, pushing himself into the corner of his bed, attempting to make himself as small as possible. "Spence?"

He looked up at you, his knees pulled to his chest.

"I'm sorry. For what I said earlier."

"I know you are." You said. He noticed how you deliberately didn't say you forgave him.

"I didn't mean it." He adds.

"I know." He squirmed under your piercing gaze, his hands wringing in his lap. " Do you want to show me how sorry you are?" You asked suddenly and he felt a shiver go down his back.

"Um... how?" He asked dumbly and you chuckled, striding over. He let his legs drop flat on the bed as you climbed on. You straddled his lap and he squeaked, his hands finding your hips tentatively. "How- what do you want me to-"

"You just need to sit still and look pretty, babe." You said, undoing his belt. He dropped his hands to his sides awkwardly, his chest heaving as you yanked his belt free and tossed it to the ground. You unbuttoned and unzipped before pulling your skirt up your hips, unzipping the back so it was loose enough to pull up over your head. Spencer stared as you undressed, reaching out with shaky hands to unbutton your shirt.

You slapped his hands away, giving him a cruel smirk. He blushes bright red, dropping his hands. "Not yet Spencer." You shoved your hand into his boxers, groping his hardening length in your hand and stroking up and down. He let out a shaky breath. He let out a whine as your thumb circled his tip, dripping in anticipation.

"Please, please. I wanna-"

"You wanna what?"

"I wanna come."

"Oh, honey, we've barely gotten started." You taunted, pulling his pants and boxers down so his cock sprung free. You shifted forward, starting to grind your core over top of him. He moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. "Apologize." You demanded and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He chanted. "Please, plea- nghh" He cut himself off when you pulled your panties aside, sinking down onto his length. You quickly started rolling your hips back and forth, undoing the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off of him. You scratch your nails down his chest, leaning forward to suck on his neck as you hand slid up, your thumb brushing over his nipple. He jerked, letting out a stuttery moan.

"That feel good, Spence?" You teased, pinching his hard nipple between your fingers and he whimpers.

"Mm, ye- yeah." You reached one hand down, finding your clit and rubbing in circles. Your other hand tangled in his hair, tugging roughly. As you grinded on his lap, you felt the coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter as you felt the need to release grow stronger. You reached down unbuttoning your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it across the room. You peeled your bra off as well, filling Spencer's vision with your cleavage.

"Shit- I'm close, I'm so close-"

"Hold it." You ordered and his eyes snapped open, widening as he stared up at you. "You're not allowed to come yet." He whimpered as you kept moving your hips, but he held it back. Soon, you felt yourself letting go as you released on his cock, riding it out until your were shaking. Spencer's eyes watered as you found his gaze, his hands gripping your hips.

"Please, please I need to- I want-" He stammered, unable to get it out.

"If you want to cum, then fuck me yourself." You said, rolling off him to lay on your back. He quickly mounted you, kneeling between your legs and inserting himself inside you again. He started jerking his hips, thrusting quickly with the need to get you off. You grip his hip in one of your hands, your nails digging into his skin as he overstimulated you. "Slow down." You said firmly and he followed your orders.

"I'm so close." He whined. His hips stuttered. "Can I cum? Please, I need it. Can I please?" He begged.

"Yeah, I guess you've earned it. Come for me baby." You said, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moans brokenly, his weight falling on top of you as his arms give out, thrusting one more time as he relates inside you, painting your walls white. He buries his face in your neck, his length twitching inside you. "You okay?" You asked, brushing through his hair.

"Mhm." He said, pressing a kiss to your neck. "I'm sorry." He mumbled and you chuckled.

"I forgive you, Spence." He rolled off of you, staying close, his arms wrapped around you. He kept his face in your neck, craving your warmth. He wanted you like a drug, he didn't want to let go. He wanted to keep you close to him. He wanted you to hold him in your arms and never let him go. He wanted you to squeeze him so tight he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but belong to you.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @redorquid

[softtdaisy]

______mine to use

pairing. Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary. when the office is empty, you can finally fulfill your fantasy of hotch's hands on you -and in you.

words count. 1 973

what to expect. 18+ MDNI oral female receiving, fingering, hotch is her chief so power relationship i guess, mention to other things reader wants to do to him (part 2 hinting)

a/n. everybody cheers for my first smut only story -and of course it has to be hand centered. i'm still a little unconfident about it so i really hope you will enjoy it🤍

You had no idea what your dad promised Aaron Hotchner to convince him to take you as an intern in the BAU. You weren’t even quite sure how you managed to convince your own dad to give you a chance to work at the FBI—him, the respected agent that didn’t believe in any god but gave all his faith to the organization.

You, personally, had some ideas in mind to thank Aaron Hotchner for giving you this chance.

You remember seeing him when you were younger at some gala or other event organized by the bureau. This tall man, with his dark hair perfectly arranged, his tie always perfectly around his neck, and his suit perfectly ironed and fitting him—you guess it—perfectly. He was always nice and polite; he was even shaking your hand in the most adult way possible.

But Hotch was the type of crush you had when you saw him but forgot about him the rest of the time—having other guys your age around you to play with.

Working with him was a whole other story. 

His bossy but respectful tone, his classy figure, and his serious face. His voice when he called you, his hands on your desk when he was asking you anything, or the very little smile he was giving you—and you only, at least you loved to think. 

It was an understatement to say you were fantasizing about Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief. Your unit chief. More than once, your breath got stuck watching him with his arms crossed on his chest or when he sounded more authoritarian with some agent. 

You didn’t realize how down you were for him until you touched yourself late at night and all you could think about was how experienced this man must be.

A little bird told you you weren’t the only one feeling the attraction. 

You noticed Hotch’s look on your legs when you wore a skirt—something you did a little more after that. You heard the little hesitation in his voice when you were accidentally beating your lips when he talked or when you inadvertently let your eyes undress him. And maybe, just maybe, you saw his bulge grow a little bigger the day you dropped the files—by pure accident this time—and bent over to collect them, your face very close to his crotch. 

Tonight, the office was empty after the team left one by one. There was only you here in the open office. And Hotch. Sitting at his own desk with his door closed. 

You could see him from there, with the glasses he put on once most people had left. With the same stoic and focused expression on his face, making you wonder if he could show emotions sometimes. If you go under his desk, would he keep that same expression? Or would he lose it at your touch? This simple thought made you squeeze your thighs together. 

And get up to walk to his office, each step giving you more confidence to join him than the past one. This was your moment, you thought. With the office empty and at least an hour before going home. Sixty minutes to show him you couldn’t ignore the attraction anymore.

“Come in,” he said when you knocked at his door.

Hotch didn’t look up at first. His mind was so absorbed by his files he didn’t notice that everyone had left. He just assumed that you were just another member bringing its finished work, impatient to leave the place. It took him a few seconds—and the sound of his curtain falling��to finally lift his head up and give you all his attention. 

“Sorry, I assumed it was somebody else.” Hotch said in a very monotone voice, yet with a small smile at your sight.

Was he emphasizing what he said when he put some of the folders away? Like he was saving some place for you, on his desk and in his mind too. 

You took the time to walk to his desk, slowly. Making sure he watched each of your steps and the way your skirt was moving on your legs. Revealing just enough skin to tease him.

“Do you even go home sometimes?” you finally asked him, sitting at the edge of his desk. You made sure your thighs were not touching, offering the slightest gap between them. The smallest open door for him.

“Well, sometimes yes,” he laughed, putting his glasses away. “But my son is with his aunt tonight; I don’t have any obligation, so I can work on these papers.” 

After putting his pen away, Hotch rested his hand on his desk. So close to your leg you could almost feel his touch. You looked at the non-existent distance for a moment. But when you moved your eyes up to him, you noticed his look was still on your almost naked thighs. 

You also noticed the way his pupil grew bigger at this view. 

“Only on the paper?” you whispered.

Slowly, you brought your hand to his, caressing the back of it with your nails. Your fingers seemed so small and thin compared to his. You felt like a gripper machine, taking your prize between your fingers and bringing it where you wanted to: on the inside of your thigh. 

You let out a small sigh at the feeling of his fingertips on your skin. His touch was warm—fueling another fire inside—and rough. A reminder of the man who had lived so many lives before meeting you. Of the man who was much older than you were. Of the man you were dying to get fucked by.

With your fingers still around his wrist, you guided him closer. But he didn’t need your help to spread his fingers, brushing your underwear with his fingertips. You saw the shivers on his arms, the hair lifting up, and you wondered how it would feel to have them tickling your sensitive skin.

“Listen…” he sighed, his breath cut short at the feeling of the wet spot on your thin fabric. The temptation to ask you who made you this wet was high. But Hotch knew the answer already. And in case he was wrong, he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself to put the right name in your head.

You added some push on his hand and made his fingers curl against you, giving a little pressure against your pulsing clit. The briefest moan escaped your lips. This wasn’t a dream anymore. This was your reality. 

You leaned, moving your face closer to his, catching his shaky breath on your lips. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” he closed his eyes at your whisper. 

“But nobody’s here,” you added. Moving your underwear on the side with your thumb, giving him a new access. 

“Nobody will know.” Your voice shook at the touch of his finger brushing against your now-accessible sensitive skin. 

“Except you,” his caress felt like a feather, like he was trying so hard not to succumb to temptation. 

“And me,” you cried when his finger finally glided between your lips.

You exhaled louder than you expected when his finger kept dragging through your folds. You couldn’t shut your mouth when his movement felt like some kind of torture: slow but very precise. Like he had been dreaming about this as much as you.

“Are you sure about this?” He commanded

“Pretty sure you can feel my answer.”

Then he pushed his finger inside you. As simple as that. One moment Hotch was teasing and testing you. The next thing he was thrusting his thick finger in and out. There was something in the way he kept his eyes on yours, not looking even once at the show his hand on your pussy was offering. A show you would love to watch, personally. 

The sight of this man, who knew what he was doing so perfectly he didn’t need to check but simply to see it in your eyes, would stay in your head for all your lonely pleasure time.

When his finger went deeper inside you, you finally dropped the eye contact, with your forehead falling on his shoulder.

And when you felt the tips of another finger brushing your hole, you were quick at biting his jacket to contain your moans. And soon, Hotch brought his other hand to your hair. Patting your head nicely but mostly making sure you wouldn’t move.

“Quick learner,” he whispered, and you realized he had moved his face closer to yours, making his whispering voice so much deeper. “I don’t want to hear a single sound coming from your mouth.” 

But he never said he would make the task easy. Not when his pace kept going faster. Not when his thumb found your clit, circling it in a lazy movement that made it much worse for you. Not when the only sound you could hear in this empty place was the wet noises of his fingers bringing you to the edge. 

The slap on your thigh when you closed them was hot. But not as hot as his very commanding “open” in your ear that followed. 

You lost your mind for a moment. 

His fingers going so easily inside you, drops of your wetness falling on the floor—how could you even hear that?—and his own moans that he tried to contain but that still resonated deep inside you: a dangerous but very effective cocktail that brought you to a very consuming orgasm. 

You could feel everything at that moment. The way Hotch’s hand in your hair started to brush them gently. When he finally removed his fingers from inside you, caressing your lips one last time. 

Or when, for just a few seconds, he let his head rest on top of yours. Like this moment had killed him just like you. And for good reason, when he said “good girl,” Hotch sounded as breathless as you were. 

You blamed the numbness caused by your orgasm for your fingers running along his chest—even though you’ve been dreaming of touching your chief for days now. 

A quiet moment you needed before finally getting back on your feet and not risking falling on the floor.

And just like that, everything seemed to get back to normal. 

“I’m waiting for you at 7 a.m. here tomorrow morning.” Hotch said, taking back his glasses and already opening up new files. Like nothing had happened.

You had already walked to the door when he said that. So you turned around with confusion. Because of his very professional tone like he hadn’t had his fingers buried inside you a few minutes ago. 

And because “ I don’t start before 8…” At least you’ve been here since you started, and you couldn’t see the reason you would need to come earlier. The bureau would be empty. 

The smirk that grew on his smile almost made you drop to your knees. And when he crossed his arms on his chest, the simple thought of his fingers still wet from your arousal staining his luxurious suit made you want to run to his lap.  And start again.

“Are you sure about that? I heard work is done better when no one’s around.” 

You leaned against the door, looking at him. Aaron Hotchner. The unit chief of the BAU. A very professional and respected man.

Who implied he wanted you to come early tomorrow morning so he could use your body again. 

And suddenly the thought of seeing him losing his mind to your lips on his cock was worth losing some hours of sleep. 

You winked at him and noticed the proud look on his face, knowing you had understood his thought. And more importantly, was following the same idea. 

“See you at 7, Agent Hotchner.” 

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife @winyourheartemma @aaronhotchnersgf @averyhotchner @liilysblog @storiesbynova 📬 FILL THE FORM TO BE ADDED

[menelausblues]

sinner for two.

꒰ xavier takes his job as your secretary very seriously. ꒱

𖥔 ݁ 1.3k. no evol au. vampire+ceo reader/mc x secretary xavier. secret relationship. xavier is a massive simp kinda. smut : oral/swallowing. light blood-drinking. xavmc week. ❀ ݁ i had this trope idea of mc as a vampire n xavier as their secretary. my friend honey introduced me to the manga midnight secretary and while i don't really recommend it as a read, it did help me get through the writing block on this one.

mdni.

“y-you have a meeting with the association in ten minutes.”

xavier doesn’t always like being a secretary; it’s far too busy, but he likes being yours, and that's enough to stay. a mountain made of diligence, that’s what he’s always been. though he’s not as patient as he once was, he still regards himself as more tolerant than others. he’s learned to be very good at obedience, despite how much he prefers control. he reasons it’s an inevitable outcome when the object of his affection is you, his immortal boss that enjoys feeding on him from time to time in the safety of your office. you look up at him, grinning, and your eyes gleam a dazzling crimson, what he’s come to know as the shade of your gratitude and greed.

the blood from his thigh starts to drip from the corner of your mouth and he watches your tongue lazily dart along your lower lip. he doesn’t even realize he’s gone from panting to tracing his own lip with his tongue, mimicking you in the throes of his own ecstasy. “i'm unlikely to be late, but if i am, can you let them know?”

somehow, your voice teases him, licks at his flesh even when you pull away, the area of his wound thrumming with a sweet kind of pain. he feels soft desperation spill out of him, pre-cum seeping from the swollen head of his cock. between a moan and an affirmation, he breathes shakily, “y-yeah, i will. i’ll tell them.”

your tongue licks along the shape of his wound, making his cock twitch in his already stuttering hands. when he feels your teeth sink back in, he can’t help the way his head lulls back, an elongated groan surrendered to the air.

“you’re a really good secretary. very efficient. very good at logistics. always on top of things. i like that about you.” you say, leaving gentle kisses along his inner thigh. xavier whines pathetically. he looks down, fascinated by the way you kneel before him but he’s the one who’s worshipping you. “it’s because i care about you more than anything.” “aht-aht, we’ve talked about idolization.” your tone is a warning. “i’m a monster. you shouldn’t forget that.” his voice is shaky and wispy, creaking under the weight of his lingering arousal. “it’s not because you feed on me. i just like you. i want you to use me.” you chuckle. “the xavier i met on his first day here wouldn’t say such a thing.” “well, he’s an idiot.” xavier knows that you think he was much smarter before he discovered your secret, much smarter before he became infatuated by you and offered himself on a platter, but xavier thinks you don't understand how much he likes being next to you, how much he wants to be at your mercy for the simple sake of it. you snort, licking around his wound as you prepare for your last taste. his eyes squeeze shut in anticipation. “you think you know this is what you want, but your fragile judgment is impaired by pleasure.” his head sinks back; his sighs sink into a groan. “ahhh, oh my god,”

he never realizes when he cums, always so overwhelmed by the fullness of bliss that imprisons him. he only knows because when he finally opens his eyes and looks down, your mouth has moved from his thigh to his sputtering length.

he holds his breath and feels lightheaded as you swallow him down, but he can’t manage more than a pathetic pant that sounds closer to a squeak. you’ve removed his hands, taking the mess of his release as your own responsibility. as always. he’s so grateful to be taken care of by you, so honored to be the one who sustains your living so frequently.

when you’re done and the daze of his explosive ecstasy finally starts to fade, you rise to your feet and start to adjust your clothing. he finally feels like he regains control of his breathing but all he wants to do is watch you.

beautiful and devastating, addicting and disorienting.

he manages to fix himself but his hair is a tousled mess and he’s sure the buttons on his shirt are lopsided. your eyes are full of concern as you look over him. you approach, your sweet-scented palms cupping his cheeks. you always carry an aroma of amber and spice. “maybe you shouldn’t offer your blood like this. i fear it’ll interfere with your job and i like you as my secretary more than i like you as a meal.”

even if you don’t want me, i’m yours anyway.

“i like both.” a soft laugh. “well, you’ll be free of me for a week next week. maybe it’ll clear your mind.” “w-wait, where are you going?” it comes out as confusion and surprise, but what it really feels like is panic and fear. he knows every detail of your schedule, but he can’t recall anything you have going on without him. your sweet smile is almost painful with the way ardor floods his chest and makes it tighten. he watches the blood red of your eyes fade back into a color well-known to the human eye. “you don’t know? didn’t you make my schedule, sweetie?” “oh,” xavier’s lips fall into a pout. “i thought…i…”

i thought i was going with you.

you peck his lips, ginger yet reverent. it reels him in and keeps him still. “i don’t need you to accompany me, and as i’ve stated before, our relationship at work should contain some boundaries. if i need you to take note of anything, you can attend virtually.” a frustrated grumble, “ah, i see.” you try to follow his eyes as they become downcast, but petulantly, he doesn’t want to meet you, doesn’t want to remember why it’s inappropriate for him to admit that he wants to always be by your side. that’s not what you both agreed to, and he knows it. “are you disappointed?” you ask, and he can hear the underlying worry in your voice. it makes him feel weak, but he can’t lie to you the way he lies to himself. “a little,” a soft sigh. “is indulging in you this way complicating your role as my secretary?” “no,” instantly, he rejects the notion. with wide cerulean eyes, terrified, his lips part in alarm. you cover your mouth to hide your laugh. “that was fast.” xavier clears his throat, realizing that in order to show that he still values reason and has genuine dedication to both you and his position as your secretary, he’s going to have to try his hardest to maintain decorum. he can’t succumb to fits of dissatisfaction over non-issues, and he can’t always be so drenched in his own desperation to love and be loved by you. “i’m the only one who can do this job well because i know about you. i know about your sensitivity to light and i know your weaknesses to warmth. i plan everything around it. and also, when you’re hungry, i’m always available. and you say you like my blood best, that it’s special to you.” special, specifically designed for your tastes, made for you. “my, my, you’ve really bolstered your defense.” your grin is taunting him but he doesn’t care as long as you know. without hesitation, “i want to be the one you take everywhere you go.” your hands fall and his body aches to reach back for you. “how sweet, but not next week. i expect you’ll take care of everything here so i can continue bragging about finding such a competent secretary i fear i can never let go of.” his knees nearly buckle where he stands. the assurance that you want to keep him is enough to weaken him. “y-yes, of course,” “good job. now, come on. straighten yourself up. you’re coming with me to my meeting.” when you turn your back on him and leave him there, he can’t fight his own smile. his job is quite demanding, and loving you the way he does makes it complicated, but he’ll do anything to be the one trailing behind you and taking note of your every detail and whim.

[nepenthean-sleep]

thank you so much for sharing this, and including tamsyn's interview. because i've been doing better these last couple of years, i definitely feel like i am similarly "in the closet" about my condition. 90% of the people i know irl do not know about my diagnosis, even close friends. my blog and my discord groups are basically the only places i can talk openly about this.

personally my issue with the "wet rat"/"drowned cat"/"sopping wet gremlin"/"blood soaked goblin creature"/etc fan descriptions for harrow and other characters in media with psychosis (the fan response to dimitri from fire emblem three houses and jinx from arcane comes to mind here, as well) is that you're making fun of and dehumanizing someone who's disability is preventing them from taking care of themself and doing activities of daily living (ADLs), like bathing, wearing clean clothes, brushing their teeth, or fixing their hair. it's not like harrow got caught in the rain or has been stranded in the wilderness, you know? and i shouldn't even have to explain why the "with half a brain" or "with soup for brains" or "brain damaged" descriptors being appended to the "wet creature" thing is ableist.

and maybe the "wet rat"/"drowned gremlin" harrow jokes were funny the first time, but just seeing it over and over again is like... more indicative of it being part of a deeper mentality in the fandom. nobody says these things about dulcinea, or cytherea, or colum, or any of the other disabled characters who could also be struggling with ADLs and aren't always described as looking put-together (i will concede that ianthe does often get called a "wet rat", but she isn't disabled, and i rarely see her being called any of the other dehumanizing terms that harrow is called). but "wet rat" et al is something i see used again and again, both in the tlt fandom and outside of it, to describe psychotic characters who are struggling to take care of themselves. i don't want to definitively call it a slur because it seems relatively new (past 5-10 years) and mostly contained to fandom, but like, it's hurtful and dehumanizing lmao. and even if it comes from a place of pity, it's still infantilizing and belittling. and i agree that it's important to take a critical view of harrow. she is, after all, an imperialist, a slave owner and feudal lord, rude, cruel, selfish, and hungering for power. but i think there are ways to criticize her that don't involve her disability.

some of my other friends and i have also talked about how the words "rat" and "goblin" and "gremlin" specifically can have racialized connotations as well. like, idk, i think it's weird and kinda bad to refer to a character that is an indigenous woman of color with a psychotic disorder as some kind of suffering wild creature, even if you never meant anything bad about it in the first place.

anyway, that's my issue with the term. i'm not trying to jump down you (or anyone else's) throats about it, i just wanted to explain why i take issue with it so that maybe people could understand my perspective. i'm genuinely not trying to ruin people's fun, i'm just trying to explain why this behavior is hurtful.

for people interested in learning about psychosis a bit more, i wrote an essay a few years ago about psychosis in arcane that provides a brief overview of psychosis and has links to a lot of good peer-reviewed websites where you can learn about psychosis. i really like british columbia's psychosis intervention website as a good place to start. i also recommend NAMI's page. for those of you with a science or medical background, or that like to read those kinds of texts, this national library of medicine article (posted in 2023) is very good, too. in terms of fandom, my blog has a "psychosis in media" tag with a few posts.

thank you, and many others, for your kind and respectful additions to my post, and for taking me and this topic seriously. it really means a lot.

the tlt fandom's insidious problem with ableism

this will be my final original post for the locked tomb fandom, if not forever, at least for a very long time.

i have been in this fandom since november 2021, so about 3 and a half years. i can handle john gaius discourse, and butch harrow/butch4butch griddlehark discourse, and imperialism discourse, and all other bigotry discourse, and SA discourse, and all of the other incredibly difficult and meaningful topics that are worth discussing in this fandom, but the fact that i privately told someone who tagged my post with "harrow is crazy and evil and gideon will fix her" that it was ableist and upsetting and to not say those things about people with severe mental health conditions anymore, and i got blocked for it, the fact that that happened from someone who had a "punk" pinned post and was a leftist…

this is my final straw.

i see ableist microaggression after ableist microaggression day in and day out with this fandom and i'm sick and tired of acting like it doesn't deeply disturb me. other people don't think people like me are full human beings. and yeah, that's what all bigotry is, i'm not trying to act like i'm exceptional. but, like a lot of other insidious and deep-running forms of bigotry, this comes from even the most "progressive" of people, people that like to champion other marginalized communities and stand up for other disabled people. but nobody likes psychotic people. even the fucking medical providers that are supposed to help us and sympathize with us don't like us, don't believe us, belittle us and abuse us.

nobody has any idea the amount of trauma this disorder and this diagnosis has inflicted on me, how it has made my life significantly harder on a day-to-day basis and a systemic basis and an interpersonal basis. i didn't have a job for FOUR YEARS. i've had to take medications that make it difficult for me to wake up in the morning, give me issues with swallowing, and can sedate me so much that i can't drive at times. i started this medication in march 2021 and i have never felt fully awake since then. i was involuntarily committed for nine days and experienced abuse and medical malpractice in both a major hospital and a psychiatric facility that led to PTSD. i used to wake up screaming multiple times a week from PTSD nightmares related to my hospitalization. it takes me so much longer to do academic work and i have extensive disability accommodations at my university. i'm still an undergrad student at 26 years old despite starting uni at 20, and i'm not expected to graduate for at least two more years. after i was out of the hospital in 2021, it took me six months before i could start doing schoolwork again, and i could only handle one class at a time. i barely remember those entire six months honestly. the first two months, my mom (my caretaker at that time) said that i seemed like an alzheimer's patient or a dementia patient, that i wasn't myself and i struggled to take care of myself.

and when i read harrow the ninth for the first time in december 2021, i saw all of that in that book. it was a hard read because i saw so much of the shit i went through in harrow's experience on the mithraeum, with ianthe and john who wanted to "help" her but were really exploiting her (reminding me of someone whose actions triggered paranoia in me during my first psychotic episode), with mercymorn and augustine who treated her like an annoyance and an idiot (reminding me of some of the nurses and providers in the facility, people who were undoubtedly overworked and underpaid but still misused their power over me and other patients), harrow herself waking up with panic attacks and not knowing what was real and what was just in her head, her constant yearning for home and leaving the horrible place that she was trapped inside of (self-explanatory). all of this resonated so deeply with me, and even if all of it wasn't the exact same as what i had just gone through earlier in the year, it was all very thematically similar.

and then i got to this fandom and its mostly just people shitting on htn harrow and jokingly calling her a brain damaged wet rat, but like, over and over and over again.

can you imagine how this made me feel lol.

it made me feel like shit.

so i ignored that feeling, maybe even went along with the rest of the fandom for a few moments because you know, maybe i'm just overreacting. maybe it's not that deep. after all, maybe i'm no different from a "brain damaged wet rat" myself. but that was the internalized ableism talking. but it just kept bothering me, and bothering me, and bothering me. it's been like three and a half years now and i can't ignore anymore how much it bothers me, how deeply disturbing i find it that people call her "cutesy" slurs like crazy and psycho and "delulu" or say she needs to be "fixed" or that gideon WILL "fix" her or that "her brain is made of soup teehee" or making "grippy sock" jokes or calling her a "sopping wet pathetic meow meow" or like whatever. honestly i don't even think people are doing it maliciously. that doesn't stop it from being hurtful and damaging.

even if it's not sourced from malicious intent, it's just proof that nobody fucking cares about people with psychotic disorders. nobody fucking cares about the human rights abuses that happen to patients in psychiatric facilities. nobody cares about how hard it is for people like us to make it through the world. do you know that there are some people with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia that are catatonic, that can't speak or get out of bed? that can't take care of themselves? do you care about them and still think they're people? what about the people with bipolar disorder or schizophrenia that can't hold down a job or finish a degree or provide for themselves? the people with these mental health conditions that are homeless or stuck in abusive group homes? are these people "brain damaged little meow meows"? i'm one of the lucky ones! i can still go to school and take care of myself and work! but it wasn't always that way for me, and it may not always be this way for me in the future. do i still matter, then? am i still a person that deserves respect? or am i just another thing to make fun of, especially when and if my condition starts to decline? do you realize that your jokes enable your own bigotry and enforce the bigotry of others?

but its fun to laugh at harrow's declining condition, and make jokes with your friends who will never have to worry about this being in their cards. lobotomized brain damaged wet rat. fuck you.

i know you're just here to mess around and have fun with the books you like, but so was i. i can't do that anymore because people have made this environment so difficult for people like me. for fuck's sake, i used to make shitposts and theory posts all the time. have you noticed i don't anymore?

there's a lot of bigotry in this fandom, but this is the only topic that i feel qualified to speak on at length due to how deeply personal it is to me. please, i am begging you, think about what you say about harrow's mental health, symptoms, and brain. i know she isn't real, but i am, and so are people with the psychotic conditions she has.

[cardansriddle]

The diary - Tom Riddle x fem!reader

Summary:

When you stumbled upon a mysterious diary in the second-floor lavatory, you never imagined you would be caught in the web of Tom Riddle. What begins as innocent curiosity becomes something darker, as he slips into your dreams, your thoughts, your very skin. And before you realize it, he isn’t just haunting your nights—he’s consuming you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left that hasn’t been touched by him.

Warnings: dark themes, smut, dub-con? kind of. not proofread. dumbledore cameo

A/N: Hopefully this is a worthy comeback!! It's been such a long time since I last posted here so I hope this isn't too rusty. I surprisingly enjoyed writing a darker narrative so lmk what you guys think!

༻♛༺

You were not exactly at fault for how it started.

You had only wandered into the second-floor girls' lavatory following a trail of water—moonlight slicing through the cracked windows, painting the tiles in silver streaks. The bathroom had been flooding. You’d slipped your wand from your robe pocket, lips parting to cast a simple Reparo to fix the broken pipes—and then you saw it.

A diary.

Its black leather cover shimmered with a slick sheen, as though it had not been drenched at all. There was a mysterious pull to it, and you approached it, not thinking, only feeling—as if the world narrowed to that single object.

The moment your fingers brushed the surface, cool and impossibly dry, a strange silence fell over the lavatory, and something in you shifted. When you grasped it in your hands, you had been overcome with an urge to never part with it again, and just like that...it began.

You had first turned the diary over to determine who it belonged to and had only seen the gold-embroidered name. Tom Marvolo Riddle. The name was unfamiliar to you.

You flipped through its blank pages, frowning. Nothing. No memories. No clues. And yet... it called to be written in, like it craved ink the way lungs craved air. So one day, when you were in the library, you decided to scribble in it, only for the ink to sink into pages of the diary and disappear with no trace left behind.

Then, seconds later, letters bled onto the parchment, neat and elegant.

Hello.

To say you were bewildered, would be an understatement. You thought perhaps it was a trick of light, or maybe it was your lack of sleep finally catching up to you and causing you to imagine things, when once again, words appeared on the page.

What is your name?

You sat for a minute, contemplating if you should really converse with this charmed item. You had never heard of such magic before, and before you knew it, your curiosity had won over any rational thoughts. You hesitated, but only briefly. Then, quill trembling, you wrote your name.

Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Tom Riddle.

Browsing through your head, you came to the conclusion that you had never heard of the name before. Dipping your quill in the ink, you asked him the question that was ringing through your mind.

How are you writing to me through this diary?

I am a memory preserved in this diary.

Your hand faltered. So you were not just conversing with a charmed notebook, you were actually talking to a real person. Well...a memory of a person. A boy sealed in pages like a soul trapped between ink and silence.

Are you a student at Hogwarts?

I was. A long time ago.

Why have you preserved yourself in this diary?

There was no answer. You waited for what felt like hours but could have been only a few minutes, yet he did not respond. There was a strange energy surrounding the item, and had you not been so transfixed, perhaps you would have listened to your intuition and given the diary away to a professor. But your desire to find out more about it clouded over any reason, so you shut the diary and stored it safely in your trunk.

༻♛༺

The next time you opened the cursed object was hours after curfew. You sat cross-legged on your bed, curiosity flooding your brain with endless questions as you picked up your quill and wrote.

Hello, Tom.

It took a few moments for his reply to appear.

Good evening.

You chatted with him for what felt like hours, asking countless questions (and making sure not to touch upon the subject of his preservation in the diary lest he leave you without an answer again), and he in turn inquired you about your life.

You felt silly— finding so much pleasure in talking to a diary, but there was something enigmatic about this Tom Riddle persona that had you hooked.

He asked you things—where you grew up, what subjects you enjoyed, which House you were in. You told him everything. Not because he demanded it, but because with every answer you gave, he gave you more. Ideas, stories, the weight of his voice echoing in the shape of words.

You spoke to him every day. A strange intimacy began to form between you. One that defied explanation.

You shared complaints about professors. Tales of your friends. Moments of quiet vulnerability. You asked him about the school during his time—what had changed, who he had known. He answered thoughtfully, sometimes fondly. But never about himself.

There was always a shadow behind his sentences, like something coiled, waiting.

But as a week passed ever since you first opened that diary, you noticed the unusual amount of exhaustion that would take over your body. You were in a constant state of sleep deprivation, and no amount of potions could keep you energetic enough to go about your day without collapsing.

And then, the dreams began.

They started subtly.

You were wandering Hogwarts, yet it felt different—older, taller. The stone was darker, the air thicker. You turned a corner, and there he was. Standing beneath the arches near the Great Hall, his figure blurred like memory, his eyes like ink poured into glass. A boy—no, a young man. Tall and poised, as if carved from obsidian and smoke. His school robes were immaculate, draped across his frame like they were stitched directly to his spine, and the torchlight behind him caught the sharp angles of his face with clarity.

He was impossibly handsome.

The kind of beauty that felt wrong. Otherworldly. His cheekbones were high and cruel, his mouth curved in a knowing, unreadable line. Dark hair framed his face in elegant waves, shadowing his brow just enough to deepen the darkness in his eyes.

And his eyes were bottomless. Liquid night. No warmth. Only gravity, as though they could pull entire thoughts from your skull if you stared too long.

You knew, without him saying a word: this was Tom Riddle.

You froze, pulse thundering. It was the first time you'd seen him—beyond ink and parchment.

His gaze swept over you, slow and precise, like a knife deciding where to cut.

“Is this a dream?” You whispered.

He stepped forward. Just one pace. Enough to close space, enough to make your breath catch.

“Is it you I’ve been speaking to?” Your voice was smaller now. “The one in the diary?”

He smiled then.

It wasn’t reassuring.

“Yes,” he said.

And just like that—he vanished.

You woke up with a start.

The dormitory was quiet, but everything felt wrong. The edges of your vision blurred as you sat up slowly, blinking into the dim, gray light of early morning.

You were still in your bed. Still in the castle. Still yourself.

Your chest felt tight, as though the air was thicker somehow—harder to breathe. And even though you had just woken, your body pulsed with exhaustion.

The memory of it clung to you like fog—the image of him standing beneath the arches. That strange blend of reverence and possession in his gaze. It felt more real than the four-poster bed around you. More vivid than the chill creeping up your spine.

You pushed the sheets away, shakily reached for your wand, and lit the tip with a whispered Lumos.

The diary was exactly where you had hidden it: under your pillow.

Your fingers brushed over its cool leather cover. You pulled it into your lap, opened it to the first blank page, and hesitated before dipping your quill into ink.

Your hand trembled as you wrote:

Did you come into my dream?

A pause.

Nothing.

No reply.

You swallowed. The silence on the page seemed louder than anything else in the room.

You tried again, slower this time.

Was that really you? I saw you. I spoke to you. Is that possible? Can you do that?

Still, as the ink sank into the page and disappeared, the pages remained stubbornly blank.

The silence felt… deliberate.

You pressed your lips together and stared at the space where his words should have appeared for what felt like eternity.

༻♛༺

The next dream came the following night, as though the moment your head touched your pillow, you slipped into his world.

This time, he was waiting for you in the Astronomy Tower, seated on the ledge with the stars behind him. The wind curled around his form, but he didn’t shiver. His posture was perfect. As though he didn’t feel the cold. Perhaps he didn't.

“You are back again” he stated simply.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you replied, more breath than voice.

“You always have a choice,” Tom murmured. “But curiosity… it tends to be stronger than fear.”

You stood a few feet away, uncertain.

“I don’t understand why I’m seeing you.”

“Because I wanted you to,” he said, tilting his head, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You met his gaze, perplexed. “Why?”

He ignored your question, abandoning his post at the ledge in favour of stepping closer to you. "You have been asking about me." His tone was disapproving as he regarded you. "You will stop."

"I just wanted to know, to understand—"

“Curiosity,” he interrupted sharply, “is a disease. And you are already sick with it.”

His eyes roamed your face, not unkindly, but with a dangerous precision. As though he were committing each of your expressions to memory. Or dissecting them.

“Not all answers are meant for you. Not all doors are meant to be opened.”

That was the last thing he said before you woke up. You ran your hands over your face, wet with sweat. For the first time since finding the diary, you felt something curl beneath your skin.

Not curiosity. Not excitement.

Something closer to dread.

You couldn't shake the feeling anymore.

The dreams, the exhaustion, the way the world seemed increasingly distant during the day—all of it pointed back to him. Tom.

You had to find answers to the mystery that was this man. You decided to not heed his warnings, and made a mental note to inquire some of your Professors about a student named Tom Riddle.

So throughout the day, as you ignored your friends' concerned questions about your worn-down state, you began your inquiries. Though they seemed fruitless, that is until you crossed paths with Professor Dumbledore that evening outside the Great Hall.

He had always watched you closely—too closely, some students said—but now, when he met your eyes, it was as though he already knew something was amiss.

He greeted you upon your approached, eyes glinting like distant stars, and as perceptive as he was, he made a deduction “you seem… troubled.”

"I wished to ask you about something." You hesitated, then drew a shallow breath.

He waited patiently, nodding his head as he gestured for you to continue. “Professor… have you ever heard of a student named Tom Riddle?”

The silence that followed made the air go cold.

Dumbledore didn’t answer right away. He studied you in that piercing, quiet way of his. As if trying to read not just what you said, but what you meant.

“What brings this particular name to mind?” he asked carefully.

Your fingers curled at your sides. Part of you screamed not to tell him, but the other—rational, terrified part—knew you couldn’t keep pretending you understood what was happening.

“I… found a diary,” you said. “In the castle. It had his name on it.”

Dumbledore’s eyes darkened, barely perceptibly. “A diary?” he repeated. “Where exactly did you find this diary?”

You hesitated. “In the second-floor lavatory."

His face shifted subtly. Something like gravity passed behind his expression.

“Dear girl,” he began, and his voice took on a different weight—no longer gentle, but grave. “You must bring this diary to me. First thing tomorrow morning. Do you understand?”

You nodded, slow, reluctant.

“Do not write in it,” he continued. “Do not open it. Do not let it remain near your bed. This is important. There are things in this castle—remnants of old power—that do not sleep quietly.”

You were confused, but his words lodged somewhere in your chest, and for a moment you truly meant to obey. Truly.

You went straight to your dormitory after dinner, mind spinning. You placed the diary on your desk and pushed it away like it might bite you. You told yourself you would give it to Dumbledore in the morning.

But your body was already betraying you. Before you could even undress or extinguish the lamp, the fatigue crushed over you like a tide. Your vision blurred. Your head hit the pillow without you realizing it.

And in the dark—

He was waiting. And he was not happy.

“I warned you, even if you don’t remember,” he was livid, eyes flashing red as he stared you down. “Not all doors are meant to be opened.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” he cut in. “You opened the door. You wrote in my diary. You let me in.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know what you were.”

“Don’t pretend you regret it now.”

His fingers brushed your temple, featherlight. Your breath hitched at the contact—cold and electric. The sensation spilled through you like ice and fire, your skin hyperaware, tingling in the wake of his touch.

“You’ve been dreaming of me ever since,” he said, voice almost tender. “And each time… I take a little more.”

That silenced you.

His hand fell away.

And in that stillness, something inside you twisted—the slow dawning of comprehension. You felt your body differently now. Worn, sluggish. A tightness in your chest, as though some invisible thread had been pulling at your core night after night.

“What do you mean?” you asked, more quietly. “What are you taking?”

He looked at you, and for the first time, the answer wasn’t a riddle or a misdirection.

“You.”

You stared at him, the cold settling deeper into your bones now.

“My energy,” you whispered.

“My sustenance,” he corrected, with something like reverence. “You nourish me. Every moment you spend with me in this place brings me closer to what I once was.”

Your lips parted to speak, but you couldn’t find your voice. He was still watching you—his gaze almost gentle, but entirely unrepentant.

“This is how you’re here,” you breathed. “In my dreams. The diary...”

He nodded. “Dreams are the easiest doors to slip through. And you… you left yours wide open.”

You took a step back. He didn’t follow.

“So you’re not just a memory,” you said slowly. “You’re becoming real again.”

He gave a slow, almost regal inclination of his head. “The diary preserved more than memory. It preserved me. My soul, fractured, yes… but not broken. Not dead. And now—” he inhaled softly, as if tasting something on the air “—I am closer than ever.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “And when you’ve taken enough…?”

“Then I’ll be whole again.” His voice darkened with quiet ecstasy. “I will return.”

You felt your stomach sink. Your heart thundered against your ribcage as you dared to ask the next question. “Will I survive it?” Though you already knew.

He tilted his head once more, thoughtful. Almost amused. “No.”

The silence between you stretched, and for a moment, it felt like the dream would shatter under the weight of it.

But then, he stepped forward once again.

“I could drain you,” he said, and this time, his hand rested against your cheek—tender, reverent. “But I find I don’t want to.”

You looked up at him, dazed. “Why?”

Tom smiled. His thumb brushed your lower lip, and your breath trembled. "I find that you amuse me. It almost makes me want to keep you."

You trembled beneath his touch. It felt more real than ever.

“I can almost feel the heat of your blood,” he said, so softly it was almost a kiss, leaning in so close his lips nearly touched your ear. “Taste your thoughts before you think them.”

You felt your knees weaken.

His eyes grew darker, his smile more sinister as he continued. “There are… other ways,” he whispered. “Slower ways. You give willingly. A little more each night. And I become more… solid. Less shadow, more flesh.”

“No,” you whispered, stepping back. “I don’t want this. I—I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Tom tilted his head, that calm, terrible amusement flickering across his features.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly. “You wrote to me. You dreamed of me. You gave me everything, piece by piece. And now you want to pretend you didn’t?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t mean to. You infiltrated my dreams. You took from me. I would have never touched that diary if I knew it would lead to this.” You spat.

He brushed your neck with the back of his fingers. The touch was maddening, featherlight and possessive. Your mind screamed to claw your way back to the waking world and burn the damn diary. But your body—traitorous, aching, hungry—moved toward him without permission. His hand slid to your hip, slow, deliberate, and you grabbed his wrist—not to pull him closer. To stop him.

"I will keep you, how does that sound, pet?" Though he was not really asking you. Only toying with you.

“I’m not yours,”

“You were the moment you opened the diary,” he murmured. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

His hand cupped your jaw—cool, precise—but his lips were already descending, and when they touched yours, it was like stepping into fire.

The kiss started slow, a careful claiming. His mouth moved against yours with an eerie tenderness. But the softness burned away fast as you tried to resist, replaced by something deeper—hungrier. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you felt it: the sharp line of his body, the impossible heat of him despite the dream. Solid. Real.

Too real.

You gasped into his mouth, and he took the sound like an offering, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste you, coax you deeper. His fingers threaded through your hair, and he pulled until a groan escaped your throat.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, but you were powerless and for a traitorous moment, you found you didn’t want to leave.

Not now.

Not when your blood hummed and your skin tingled and your body arched toward his like it knew him.

His lips trailed to your jaw, down your throat, leaving a blazing path in their wake. Every kiss was slow, deliberate, reverent—as though he were marking you.

“You see?” he whispered against your skin. “You’re giving.

You didn’t know how the room had changed, only that now you were lying on soft silk sheets, his body above yours, his weight pressing into you. His robes vanished, unspoken, revealing skin pale as marble, carved and perfect. Not boyish. Not innocent. This was a man shaped by ambition, by power, and now—by you.

His eyes—black and gleaming—darkened further, as though those words fed something inside him deeper than magic.

“I will have you,” he said. “And I will keep you.”

He kissed you again—harder this time—and his hands roamed, exploring every inch of you like he was memorizing, claiming, devouring. His name left your lips in a shuddering breath as your clothes faded from your body with the surreal, effortless logic of dreams. Nothing between you now—just skin and heat and the thrum of something sinister binding the two of you together.

He moved over you like a storm—controlled, but intense. His touch was all-consuming. Every motion was deliberate, coaxing the ache between your thighs into a feverish need. He knew exactly what he was doing, guiding your body to open beneath him, to receive him, to belong to him.

When he finally pressed inside you, slow and deep, you cried out—not in pain, but in overwhelming pleasure. He groaned against your neck, a sound of satisfaction, of ownership.

“You feel that?” he whispered into your ear, voice shaking with restraint. “This is real. You’re making me real.”

You clung to him, to the impossible way he filled you, the pressure and stretch and warmth of it, as he began to move. Each thrust was smooth, calculated—building steadily, matching your breath, your moans, until your body rose to meet his instinctively.

His mouth never left your skin. Bites, words—some in Parseltongue—spilled into the hollow of your throat, down your chest, laced with magic you could feel.

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t want to.

You only felt.

The pleasure within you approached fast, and when you came, your body arched into his, trembling and gasping. He followed you seconds later, with a sound so deep, so raw, lodged from his throat. He buried his face in your neck as he spilled inside you, hips stuttering, every inch of him tense, vibrating with power.

After, he didn’t pull away. Staking his claim while inside you.

“I told you there were other ways,” he whispered. “You’ll sleep deeply now. But in the morning… you’ll feel me. In every part of you.”

You drifted into unconsciousness in his arms, too spent to resist, too dazed to care. You had given in. 

Your head screamed.

Your body sighed.

༻♛༺

[rayraelleaizawa]

Hi! How are you doing? I was wondering how would Shanks react if someone (stranger or family member) insulted his lover like "I wish you were never born" to them? How would the Red-Haired Pirates react? Can you write a one shot about it?

Hi! sorry it again took me ages to write this tho i love the idea!

I hope this is will be to your liking :) I imagine Shanks being more of the quiet guy when he's really angry. Quiet, but deadly.

Shanks x Reader

Female reader mentioned but only 1 time.

It started as a normal day where the Red Force docked on an island and you were out with Shanks roaming through the streets and looking at vendors and shops.

You two have been dating for quite some time, and the world knew you as red haired Shanks' better half, so most of them treated you extra nicely in fear of the emperor. Still, Shanks was always near you, due to his relationship with you you became a target to his enemies.

You and Shanks were having fun, him being his usual self, joking and trying all kinds of alcohol at the different food and drink stands.

Lime Juice and others of your crew were at one market stand, and Shanks and him had a small drinking competition. You leaned at a house wall and watched them smiling as Shanks laughter got louder and louder over the minutes, as someone next you said your name suddenly.

"Is that really you?", said the voice as you turned around and your mother stood there.

You were suprised. You haven't seen your family in ages, and the good-bye with them wasn't a very good one either. You didn't miss your family, especially not your mother, who only cared about image and what others thought of you.

"I shouldn't be suprised seeing you here, after the announcement came that pirates docked at this island", she said in a condescending voice.

You swallowed, as you weren't prepared to suddenly meet your mother again. You haven't told Shanks about your relationship with your family, but he never asked. He seemed to understand that your family was a chapter in your life which you had closed already.

"At first I was suprised when I heard the rumors that you and red haired Shanks were a couple. I couldn't believe that an emperor of the sea would be interested in my child", she laughed.

"But then when there were pictures of you in the newspaper, next to that man, i finally believed it. And in the end it all made sense to me. Why haven't I thought of this before? Of course would my inconsiderate good-for-nothing kid go with a drunk criminal without even thinking what it meant for family. What it meant for me! My child is now a criminal! Can you even imagine what the neighbors thought of your father and me?! We had to move to another island so people would stop looking at us"

You looked at your mother with wide eyes as she started getting louder and louder.

"Don't talk about Shanks that way! He is more than just that! He and his crew are the best thing that ever happened to me", you spoke back, and a heated argument between you two arose.

Your mother yapped about having born a criminal and that it is your duty to repay her for giving birth to you, while you argumented back that all you ever did was living for her, how she wanted you to be.

The fight between you and your mother quickly caught the attention from the people around. Shanks stood up and walked closer, but he didn't intervent for now. He knew you could fight your own battles, eventho he was concerned what exactly was happening. Lime Juice, Hongo and others of your crew also watched closely, ready to jump that woman if she went too far.

"Shanks gave me a family I'm proud of. They accept me for who I am! All you ever did was pressing me in a role of the perfect child with the perfect mother!"

"You ungrateful brat! I did everything to make you look good and you can't even thank me for that? I should've thrown you in a trash can when you were a baby. I wish you were never born!", she yelled at you and slapped you across the face.

You stood there, motionless, as you slowly realized what just happened. Before you could turn your head back from the slap, Shanks moved infront of you. His Haki was flowing around him as the crowed quickly got smaller as the smart ones all went to hide. Your mother tried to act tough, but it didn't even last a few seconds as she crumbled before him, tears streaming down her face in fear.

"You can insult me as much as you want, but never. ever. say a bad thing about my queen."

His aura alone got your mother to apologize endlessly and to beg him to spare her life. Shanks was angry, and an angry Shanks is something you never want to witness. He isn't loud and he isn't throwing hands, he is just, quiet, consuming of all your senses. He's your nightmare.

You stood behind him, holding your cheek as Hongo touched your back. His eyes were checking over your frame for injuries. You could also see Benn standing a few feet away, leaning against a house wall as he watched everything with his brows furrued.

A feeling of protection came over you, but your heart still ached. You never had the best relationship with your mother, but she never said anything so cruel to you. You slowly turned around and started walking towards the Red Force. You knew you could leave the rest to Shanks. He wouldn't kill her, she was still your mother, but he'd make sure she'll never came near you again. His crew followed you, with a respectfull distance to not smother you, but still close enough that everyone could see they were ready to kill for you.

Back at the Red Force you went to your joined room with Shanks. You sat on the bed and stared at the wall. Only after some time did you realize you were crying. Not long after you heard the door opening and then quietly closing again. Shanks walked up to you and slowly sat on the bed behind you. He moved his arms around you and gently brought you to his chest.

He didn't talk at first, just let you settle in his arms and cry. He kissed your forehead from the side.

"You are the world, darling. The only good thing this woman has ever done, was bringing you into this world. I couldn't think of what I'd do without you. I love you, and I want you to know that you're appreciated for who you are."

At first you didn't respond, you just moved and buried your head in his chest as he gently held you.

"Thank you for being my family", you said after some time, and Shanks smiled into your hair, pressing gentle kisses on your hairline.

"Always, my love"

The next day, Lucky made your favourite food. Benn lend you one of his infamous notebooks he wrote about his past adventures in that no one was allowed to read. Monster wanted to play with you, and the others all did little favours for you over the next week. Appreciating you even more than they already did. Telling you "thank you" for small things you did, but with the meaning that they are gratefull you exist. And Shanks did everything to let you know that he was the most gratefull of that.

[irisintheafterglow]

bllk vs u-20 game spoilers.

there's a pit in your stomach as you wait with the rest of the blue lock 11's family members in one of the stadium's many concrete passageways. the group around you is humming with anticipation, but all you can do is hug your arms close to your torso and try to remember to breathe, even if it's shaky. anri had reached out to close family and friends of the players as soon as the game against the u-20 team was confirmed, and you were among the few who received comp tickets (probably in exchange for giving up your boyfriend for several months).

no one would think you and rin were together, and you knew damn well that he wasn't going to be sharing his relationship status with anyone he interacted with in the program; it took a whole year for him to open up to you about his history with sae. those on the outside must've thought he was blackmailing you to stay together, but only you two knew that you were his closest confidant, his steadiest rock, and the one who stayed even when soccer took the place of any form of sustenance.

a door opens around the corner.

here they come.

the first person to bound forward and leap into the crowd is the monster dribbler, bachira. he all but tackles a woman in a long coat that you recognized as sitting a few rows in front of you. next comes the redhead runner who was subbed out in the first part of the second half--chigiri. he's immediately enveloped in a swath of two matching, vibrantly scarlet heads of hair, cooing about how he was all grown up and how they were so proud. soon, the rest of the players--otoya with the green stripe in his hair, karasu with a casually disarming grin, nagi and reo moving as one unit--greet their families and friends. the embraces make you nauseous, the joy in their smiles are pushing you toward a panic attack. where was he? the kick rin had taken to the face felt like your world stopped, but he recovered quick enough for spectators to think he was unharmed.

"e-excuse me?" you lightly tap the shoulder of the match's hero, isagi. he'd been the only one to see--no, predict--that rin would surpass sae, which gave him the opening to score the final goal. your face burns from shame as isagi and his parents turn to look at you kindly, while you're practically shrinking into one of rin's jerseys. "that last goal was a wonderful shot. great job," you offer. he beams when you praise him and nods enthusiastically.

"thanks! i'm really excited for the next---"

"i'm sorry," you cut in sheepishly, and he pauses, tilting his head to the side curiously. his eyes flick down to the silver 'R' dangling by a chain on your neck. "do you know where, um, where rin is?" you say, and an odd look crosses isagi's face.

"yeah, he was..." isagi hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "he's not really in the best mood, even though we just won. he's kind of brooding, if you can call it that. i don't know if anyone should be talking to him."

"i know that," you reply, bristling a little impatiently. you know better than anyone the mental state he was in right now, which was why you needed to be there for him. "sorry...i just don't want him to be alone right now." isagi blinks once, then twice, before turning back to his parents, who were watching the exchange with a strange amount of sympathy.

"i'll be back," he tells them. "i'm gonna go grab rin from the locker room. i'll say someone's here for him."

"he's gonna refuse initially," you warn isagi before he leaves. your fingers brush the solitary letter hanging on your skin. "if he's stubborn about it, tell him the penguin charm fell off my necklace."

"inside joke?"

"inside joke," you clarify with a sad smile. isagi nods dutifully.

"got it."

a few minutes later, most of the players and their families had filed out of the hallway toward the meeting room, where the stadium was serving an assortment of dinner entrees. they could catch up, share stories, and have this one night of relaxation before the next phase of the project began. word had somehow spread around that you were rin's partner; bachira and hiori were almost begging to hear the stories you had about him as they tried to drag you to dinner. you politely told them you'd be up in a bit, and they settle for escorting isagi's parents instead. then, you're alone in the hallway until isagi returns with your boyfriend in tow.

"i'll be over here if you guys need anything," he says lowly to you as he passes, positioning himself a respectful distance away while your attention finally turns completely to rin.

he stands two steps away, hands shoved in the pockets of his joggers. he won't look at you.

"hi," you breathe, willing his eyes to meet yours. "rin?" no answer, only another step toward you, but not close enough to touch. he was, at this moment, completely unreadable to you; you couldn't tell what he needed, and you weren't sure if he knew, either. "please look at me." he takes a slow inhale through his nose and exhales unevenly through his mouth. your shirt catches his eye and he looks anywhere but your face.

"that's mine."

"mhmm, i've been waiting to wear it since you left," you tell him gently.

"looks good. on you." he's exhausted--mind, body, and soul. you coax his walls to come down bit by bit, even when every second you're not touching him feels like torture. you reach out to brush a strand of hair from his eyes, but he catches your wrist before you make contact, and you flinch.

maybe you misjudged what he needed. maybe he was going to push you away, too. maybe he was past a point you couldn't follow, somewhere he didn't need you anymore.

his eyes finally meet yours and say all you need to hear.

i'd never.

he holds your wrist there before slowly guiding your fingers to cup his face, leaning into you with a sigh. as soon as your skin is against his, it's like his body wakes itself up via lightning strike. in one breath, he's grabbing your hips and pulling you as close as humanly possible. your arms snake around his neck while his head falls forward onto your shoulder. his embrace is tight, but somehow you're not close enough to him.

"shit," rin croaks into your neck. you can feel the grief shrouded underneath his wrath, a boiling pot of emotions reserved for only his older brother. it didn't matter that blue lock was victorious; in this fight between the itoshi brothers, sae was still the superior sibling (at least, in the world's eyes). you can't think of any words to comfort him, so you settle for running your hand up and down his back. "damn him. damn it all."

"i know, baby, i know," you murmur. "but you did so well."

"it wasn't enough," he seethes, and his voice breaks. you press a kiss into his hair. this was how you and rin functioned--nothing like flashy dates or extra displays of affection, just an understanding of the other's feelings. "it's never fucking enough." his grip on your waist temporarily tightens, frustration seeping into his tired muscles. dull pain blooms under the tips of his fingers.

"rin," is all you need to say before his touch loosens, smoothing over the area and searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

"shit. did i hurt you?"

"i'm okay, i promise," you reassure him. your thumb rubs the space between rin's eyebrows, tense from all his frowning. "you're gonna get wrinkles here if you keep living like this, my love."

"there's no other way for me to live," he replies.

"i know. but you'll let me stick through it with you?" instead of answering, he zeroes in on the chain around your neck, the dip between his eyebrows pinching even more.

"the penguin fell off," he deadpans. he says it in such a serious manner that you have to stifle a small giggle.

"that it did."

"i'll have to get you a new one then," he concludes, and the ache in your heart finally starts to ease as his hand slips into yours. "let's eat?"

"eating sounds good," you confirm. hand in hand, you walk toward the elevator and have to stop yourself from smirking when rin's signature scowl is immediately targeting isagi.

"what the hell are you doing here? stupid lukewarm isagi," he grumbles. isagi gives you a pitying look and shrugs.

"yeah, yeah. you're welcome for helping out your partner, idiot," isagi fires back without missing a beat. "seriously, how do you tolerate him?" his finger jabs the 'up' arrow, and you wait awkwardly with your boyfriend and your boyfriend's career rival.

"i'm not sure," you admit. "i just do?"

"you can do a lot better," isagi comments nonchalantly and rin stiffens. "you're too nice to be with a downer like him." rin's entire aura shifts to blood lust, but you're unbothered and surprise them both by laughing, squeezing rin's hand once.

"i've heard all that before, isagi," you explain. the elevator dings and the doors slide open. "the thing is, i love him too much to be with anyone else." before he can join you and rin in the elevator, your boyfriend's arm shoots out to prevent him from entering.

"really, dude?" isagi whines. "we just played against the u-20 team. i need food!"

"not my problem, half-baked," rin replies dryly. "wait for the next one." his other hand briefly leaves yours to slam on the 'close doors' button, and the two glare at each other until the metal panels shut between them. you have no time to question why rin despised isagi so much because before you could blink, he's walking you backward until your back is against the elevator railing and kissing you so fervently, you'd think he was starving. his hands slip back over your waist while your fingers thread through his hair, still damp with sweat.

"this is what you were waiting for, then?" you ask, breathless in between his mouth on yours. "didn't wanna kiss me with isagi around?" he catches the teasing in your voice and bites your bottom lip in retaliation.

"i have to take out my anger somehow, sweetheart."

take this bc i just caught up on the anime and i need to give rin a hug

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 12

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence. Word Count: 1643

"I spy with my little eye something white."

"Your hair?" Jason guessed. The tone of his voice was monotone, and it was clear that the game was going to be coming to an end soon. 

After Danny revealed the true nature of the GIW, and what they had planned, it had been quiet and tense between the two of them. The boredom and quite that followed after though was enough to make them both get over it. 

He doesn't know how long it's been since he woke up, but Danny knows it must have been at least a day by now. With no clock or window in sight it's hard to tell for sure. 

Which is what eventually led to them talking again, and playing games just to try and pass the time. Danny knows what happens though when it's time up. Jason gets taken to the lab, and he gets sent back to Amity where he too will be experimented on. 

"No." 

"The walls?"

Danny is not sure what he can do in this situation. He has to try though. There is no way that he is just going to sit here quietly while they drag Jason away. Maybe he could try and make himself more interesting, something that would make them ignore orders from HQ and take him to the lab instead. Try and buy Jason some time for a possible rescue. 

Sam and Tucker have to be looking for him at this point. The whole reason they came to Gotham was because the GIW were here, surely they must have connected the dots that they are the ones that took him. Danny can only assume that the bats are looking for him now as well what with him foolishly running straight into Damian. 

"Yes." 

"Really?"

"No." 

"Alright you little shit," Jason throws him a playful glare, "I give. What is it? What is your little eye spying?"

"Giving up after only two guesses?" 

"Giving up as this is the fourth time you've spied something white." 

As much as Danny hates to admit it, even to himself, it's nice to have someone here with him right now. He can only imagine how much worse everything would be right now if he didn't have anyone to talk to. 

He would have loved to meet Jason outside of this place and be his friend. That isn't his reality though; not now. 

"The whites of your eyes!”

"Fuck you." Danny can't help but let out a small laugh at Jason’s outburst. "No more eye spy!"

"If no more eye spy I think we'll have to start from the top of our list of games. I don't think there is anything new we could do." 

Instead of responding right away Jason takes a moment to look at him. It seems as if he was looking for something. "No. No more games. It's time to get serious again." 

That shocked Danny as this is seemingly coming out of nowhere. He thought after their first talk that Jason didn't want to know anything more about the GIW or why they took the two of them. Danny's not going to keep anything from Jason though if he really wants to know. "I'll answer what I can." 

“Do you have a brother?” 

That … that is not what Danny thought he was going to ask. Especially with the way Jason asked it. As if he already knew the answer; it wouldn’t make sense though for him to know about Damian. “Why do you ask?” 

Jason peers at him from across the hall with an almost melancholy type of look, “I didn’t really notice it at first, but you look very familiar to a certain big name in Gotham.”

"Is this really what you want to talk about? Me being a doppelganger to Damian Wayne." As soon as he said it Danny knew that he probably messed up. Jason knew it too based on the small smirk gracing his face. 

"We've got nothing else to do, and it's something that's been on my mind for a bit. Also I never said it was Damian Wayne." 

"It's something I've been told before." Danny truthfully argues, "I'm not sure who else in Gotham is a 'big name' that I could look like." 

This guy knows who Danny is somehow, but who would be close enough to Damian to know that he had a twin? And to have been embraced by death enough to become a revenant. Only one name comes to mind. 

"You're Jason Todd. Red Hood, I'm guessing?" 

"And you're Danyal al Ghul."  They are so lucky no monitoring system has been put in place.

It makes sense now that Danny thinks about it. Of course it was Jason Todd, adopted son of Bruce Wayne otherwise known as Batman, would be the revenant. The son that is supposedly dead. Everything he does just leads back to the Wayne family nowadays doesn’t it?

Danny had thought that it was odd when he was reading some of the GIW files how one guy could be setting off so many scanners within one night. Being a vigilante would explain that though. 

"Guess someone owes Damian two nickels, huh? Two nickels for two brothers that have died."  Jason questions mostly to himself. "Wait. You mentioned earlier that you were something different from a normal ghost. Are- are you actually dead? And don't say you can't talk about it because they're listening, we both know they're not. These guys might be smart, but they are still extremely dumb and overconfident for not having a monitoring system set up to watch us. So start talking, casper.” 

There's really not much Danny could say to argue against Jason. Sure, he could simply deny talking about it, but he really doesn’t want to make Jason upset with him right now. Not when this could be the last conversation they ever have with each other. 

"Casper? That's the best you got?" 

"I'll think of another one while you explain how about that?"

So much for trying to misdirect the conversation. "I'm a halfa, half ghost, half human, half dead, half alive. This," Danny gestures to himself as he speaks, "is my ghost half. I can switch between the two." 

"That's freaky."

"Yes, thank you Jason, I know."  Danny gives Jason a hard glare, "As I was saying-" 

The doors at the end of the hall are suddenly opening. Sounds echoing all around them as Jason and Danny can do nothing, but watch as three figures enter the hall. "-And here is where we're currently keeping the revenant and Phantom. I must say we at the GIW are very pleased with how quickly you two accepted our invitation to examine the specimen. It is truly an honor to have The Fentons here! Your research never fails to impress!" 

It's one of the GIW agents talking, but that is not what has Danny's attention. He is solely focused on the two people behind him; his parents. 

That- that can't be though! They knew Danny was Phantom, they put away the weapons, and locked up the lab! Things have been tense in the house since they found out, but surely they weren't here in support of the GIW. His parents weren’t here to experiment on a human being!

Danny watches as they approach his and Jason's cell, and come to a stop in front of them; both are smiling. Anger swallows the shock as he looks at his parents. He should have known better than to think they would give up their ideals for him. Rotting fruit will always fall after all. 

"Now Phantom here is a surprise capture, and I have orders from the higher ups that we aren't allowed to surgically examine it at this location." The agent and his parents' gaze feel hot as they talk about him. "The revenant on the other hand will be ready for you both tomorrow evening!" 

It's his mom who responds to that, "Oh, but we have such a history with Phantom! Surely they'd allow a few simple tests to be done! Testing his- its emotion mimicry and seeing if its joints react the same as ours." 

What an odd thing to suggest Danny thinks to himself. His joints? While it is something that is a part of the review process  it's never been something either of his parents particularly cared about. 

Jason who had been silent throughout all of this looks quizzically in his direction at that. Clearly wondering what kind of history he has with these two. How would he react knowing that they are his parents?

"Hmm I'll have to make a few calls, but I'm sure that might be something we can work out." The agent assures them. 

"Wonderful!" His dad's voice booms in the otherwise quiet hall. As he continues to speak his dad takes a step closer to his cell and places a hand on the glass, "Regardless though, we look forward to just being in the examination room tomorrow." 

The agent says something to that in response, but at this point there is nothing but a ringing in Danny's head. He doesn’t even react as they walk away. His dad's hand- the writing!

"-om Phantom!" Jason is calling out to him with a worried look. "You ok? You looked pretty out of it during all of that." 

"I'm fine." Danny smiles as he rationalizes all the information he just learned, "We're getting out of here." 

His parents are here and they're going to get him out of this nightmare place. It's only a matter of time now.

-

Robin watched from a nearby roof at the hotel room he was just at a couple of nights ago. Only this time the room was already occupied with three individuals instead of two.  Mason, Foley, and the newcomer, Jasmine Fenton. 

[criminalyapping]

how it begins

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

a/n: i freaking told you guys (i say to an empty void) i'm having a baby renaissance in my personal life and i'll be writing about it for suuuuuure. sassy jack abbot thank u. also i have no idea where i am going from here so if you have ideas send me them i'm begging pleading on my knees thank you. i will be pool-ing with the gf this afternoon but i will come back sunburned and ready to write thank u v much

warnings: language, suggestive content

"Christ, Jack, someone's gotta take away your MD," Robby sighs, resting his hands on his elbows and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

He leans back against Jack's leather couch and looks back at the man. Jack doesn't seem rushed to reply, so Robby starts up again.

"I mean, I knew you were getting back out there, but I thought you were just getting your toes wet," he questions.

Jack raises his eyebrows and brings the can in his hands up to cover his mouth.

"I mean, yeah, but I was also getting something else wet," he mumbles with a smirk.

"Jesus," Robby sighs, again. "You're not even taking this fuckin seriously,"

Jack looks back at him seriously before speaking.

"Okay, brother, you can get down off of that high horse you're on." he admonishes. "It's news to you but it's not news to me. I've already done all this." he says, gesturing to the stressed body language Robby is exuding.

"So you're just fine with the fact that you've impregnated some girl that's half your age?" Robby questions.

Jack takes another sip of his drink.

"First of all, don't say impregnated. Second of all, she's over half my age-"

"By how much?" Robby interrupts.

"Well, I'm not feeling like I want to tell you with this attitude you've got." Jack replies.

Robby rolls his eyes. Jack gives him an unimpressed look.

"Look, man, I get it. Everything you're thinking and saying right now, I've already thought and said. Yeah, we didn't mean for this to happen and yeah, she's a lot younger than me. So what, man? What's done is done, we've had the conversations, it's happening. I didn't tell you so you could do this at me," Jack explains, gesturing at Robby, "I told you because you're important to me."

The admission sits in silence as Robby takes it in.

"Okay," he sighs, "Okay, I get it. What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, maybe try asking me about her? How I'm feeling about this?" Jack suggests.

Robby scoffs. "You, Jack Abbot, want to talk about your feelings?"

"Try me," Jack provokes.

"Fine. How are you feeling about all of this, Jack?" Robby asks, exasperated.

"Hmm," Jack says, pretending to think. "Why don't you ask me again when you mean it."

"Jesus fucking christ," Robby mumbles, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"It's fine, man, take some time to reel it in," Jack says good-naturedly. "I didn't expect you to be this cut up about it,"

"I'm not cut up about anything," Robby denies. "I'm just thinking about you, I mean, are you even sure it's yours?"

Jack looks at him with a steely glare.

"You're on thin ice with that one, pal."

Robby has the good sense to look guilty.

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"It's fine," Jack says.

Robby takes a deep breath, shaking his head to clear it.

"Okay," he starts, "Please tell me about her. How did you meet, what's she like, all that." he asks.

"I'm old enough to be your father!" Jack yells over the deafening sound of the bar you're in.

"Ew, don't talk about my father!" you yell, grasping the firm bicep of the arm around your waist.

"But I-" Jack starts, only to be interrputed.

"I really don't give a shit," you roll your eyes, "do you?" you ask the man in front of you.

Jack looks down at you in his arms. The big eyes looking up at him, the expanse of skin of your legs shown below the hem of your shorts. Smooth and inviting; Jack is desperate to get his hands on you.

"No," he smirks, "no, I really don't."

"Good," you tell grasping the back of his neck and pulling him forward into a hot, messy kiss. He returns the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue running along your lower lip before plunging into your mouth, muffling the noise of surprise you make.

Distracted by the feel of your tongue on his, your hair grasped firmly in his fist, and the soft skin of your waist in his hand, Jack realizes that this is the most alive he's felt in a long time.