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#i spent three weeks on this pls give it a look
howdy-nyalll · 3 months
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multifariousqueer · 1 year
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can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe
Sure love!!!
A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷
It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.
You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.
Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:
“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”
“Oh don’t worry about it” you said
“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.
“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him
“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils
But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.
Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:
Miles: did someone take your card?
You: no why??
Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??
You: I’m at the mall
Miles: so? I pay for your shit
You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀
Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit
You: you aren’t my sugar daddy
Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute
You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:
You: Okay
You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:
Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?
You: ?
Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?
You: ok
Miles: ?
You: we can discuss this when I get home
Miles: K
You: k
It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:
“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked
“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face
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cupid-styles · 9 months
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silk and rope
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the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!
some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!
word count: 10.6k
content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space
"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."
Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.
In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.
Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.
Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.
Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.
And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming. 
But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.
"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"
That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door. 
"Thanks. You can go now."
With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.
"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."
"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."
The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.
. . .
If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.
And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening. 
He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way. 
So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out. 
Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand. 
Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between. 
But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off. 
"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.
"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."
She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass. 
"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"
With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"
He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed. 
"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."
Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."
"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."
She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly. 
"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?" 
Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look. 
"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?" 
He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.
"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."
Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands. 
"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally. 
"Kind of."
"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.
"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."
Dominant?
The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.
"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."
Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.
Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."
Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent. 
It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific. 
"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely. 
"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."
She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.
"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."
Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."
It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity. 
She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.
"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."
"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.
"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."
Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks. 
"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly. 
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."
She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."
"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."
Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday. 
"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."
"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"
"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core. 
"Y/N, do you have my number?"
She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.
"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"
Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.
"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out." 
She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin. 
"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"
Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face. 
"N-no. I'm fine."
He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."
"I won't. I promise." 
Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."
She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you, Harry."
20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.
. . .
Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened. 
He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird. 
Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom. 
The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle. 
He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.
And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.
From: Y/N Y/L/N
hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it 
im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)
Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite. 
His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.
Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?
She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.
ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol
Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.
That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?
She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N. 
Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in. 
As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her. 
So why isn't he scared?
. . .
"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.
"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."
She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table. 
"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."
"Oh, you found someone already?"
"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."
Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth. 
"I don't think you want that." she says gently. 
"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."
Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."
She nods.
"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"
"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."
"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."
Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.
"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened. 
"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous. 
"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that." 
"Okay." 
She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to. 
"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."
Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked. 
"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"
"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."
"What sexual scenarios put you there?"
She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now. 
"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."
Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.
"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"
"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."
"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."
Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays. 
She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special. 
It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge. 
"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes. 
Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."
"Mhm." 
"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."
Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach. 
"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."
Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—
"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."
She nods.
"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."
Again, she nods.
"Say 'thank you', Y/N."
"Thank you, daddy."
Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."
. . .
The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming. 
It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.
Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body. 
Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he? 
After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.
"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"
"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"
"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."
Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers. 
"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?" 
"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."
A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?" 
"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."
Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."
She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."
"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"
She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.
"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle." 
"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."
He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.
"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.
"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."
He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him. 
"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."
She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.
She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.
"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."
Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen. 
"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"
She nods, her eyes round.
"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"
Again, she nods.
"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?" 
This time, she shakes her head.
"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows. 
"Wanna play now, please."
"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."
Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch. 
"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?" 
Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.
"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear. 
"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip. 
"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything." 
Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder. 
"Would you... daddy, I..."
Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her. 
"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly. 
She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?" 
Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork. 
"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?" 
She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."
He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.
"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table. 
"Mhm. Playtime now?" 
He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."
Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."
"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."
He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day. 
He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks. 
"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.
It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her. 
"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?" 
She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.
"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"
Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow. 
He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm. 
"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."
Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever. 
So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules. 
"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"
Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green." 
"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"
"Either one, daddy. Green for both." 
Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"
"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.
"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?" 
"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face. 
"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched." 
She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it. 
"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"
Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself. 
"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."
She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice. 
A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.
After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.
"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"
Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.
"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."
"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth. 
"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"
She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it. 
"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."
"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."
It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.
He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing. 
With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound. 
"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."
"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"
"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."
"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."
She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.
"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed. 
So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.
"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.
"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"
In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole. 
"Go ahead."
He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.
As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.
Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.
"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.
"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"
"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."
She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.
Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.
"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee. 
"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."
He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers. 
"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"
Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.
"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit. 
"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.
"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?" 
She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity. 
Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.
She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again. 
"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"
"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out. 
She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."
She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.
"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."
"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."
She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head. 
"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."
"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."
"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin. 
"Mhm."
"What is it?"
"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."
Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.
"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"
"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."
He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."
Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock. 
"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.
"Daddy's polite girl." 
If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off. 
"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."
Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry. 
When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan. 
When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer. 
"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."
"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."
"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"
"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."
"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"
Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth. 
"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"
She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"
"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."
She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can. 
"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."
She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum. 
"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now." 
"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes. 
"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."
She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain. 
"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?" 
Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands. 
Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether. 
He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders. 
"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet. 
"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.
They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same. 
1K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 7 months
Note
May I request an omega verse where kiribaku adopts omega son pls? thank you!
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Adoption
Kirishima x Bakugo w/ child male reader
I gotchu, this took longer than expected ngl
Fluff, baby/toddler reader, male reader, alpha Bakugo, alpha kirishima, Omega reader
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Alpha/Alpha couples were more and more common these days, especially in the hero world "a kid?" Kirishima was curious as Bakugo shrugged "a brat would be nice, we have the space and our agency is thriving.." Bakugo said not making eye contact with his mate who looked at him with so much love "it's like you read my mind~" the Alpha said hugging the other who scoffed "whatever shitty hair"
Days turned to weeks and before they knew it they were at an orphanage where a bunch of kids were running around "welcome! The Kirishima-Bakugo family yes?" The orphanage headmaster asked curiously and the two nodded "yeah that's us!" Kirishima said happily and Bakugo grunted "wonderful, sign the sign in forms and if I could please see ID as confirmation?" The two handed over their IDs and the headmaster scanned them "excellent! Why don't I give you two a tour yes? And then you can meet the children?"
The building was nice, up to date and the children were healthy "so what age range are you looking for? Secondary gender?"
"We were hoping to just click with one and go from there" Bakugo let his mate do the talking as kids looked at them curiously "I see, well let's go to the play area and you can interact with the children"
Walking into the play area, kids were all over the place but one caught Bakugos attention, a small pup grabbed his pant leg "oh hello (name)" the headmaster smiled "he's one of the younger ones, only one and a half" they said and fixed the boys pants "he's a happy little Omega but isn't the most talkative but the other kids don't seem to mind" they explain as (name) raised his little arms to be held by Bakugo who lifted him "what ya want squirt?" He asked the babe who grabbed his nose with a smile.
Kirishima noticed the look in his mates eyes, the connection he instantly developed with the tiny pup who didn't even know he had the number three hero around his tiny little finger.
The three spent the day hanging with the little pup who showed him all the toys he liked to play with, having a red riot toy and a Mickey mouse toy seemingly running or robbing a bakery "very cool bud" kirishima said and (name) beamed at this.
The two made visits at any chance they could as the process started for the adoption, expedited thanks to their hero status and rank, the two already setting up a bedroom for the tyke.
"Yeah it's for you" Bakugo said as he handed the tot a scented Dynamite plush, to help get the little one familiar with their scents as parents which thankfully (name) was incredibly receptive to as he clung to both of them regularly.
"Thanks squirt" Bakugo said as they sat with the little one who handed the blond a toy slice of cake, the three gathered at a toy kitchen and (name) didn't seem to know exactly what he was doing but was having fun none the less "his belongings have been packed, he's ready when you guys are" the two heroes looked elated as kirishima lifted his /son/ high up, the tiny Omega squealing in delight at the action.
It was never easy saying goodbye, the headmaster knew this but they put a strong face as they bud their goodbyes to the tiny pup who mimicked the wave as his little head rested on bakugos shoulder.
They were always worried about (name) getting adopted, male omegas weren't the highest for adoptability not to mention the boy hasn't even developed a quirk yet, sadly many parents didn't want a quirkless child...
(Name) held onto the plush of his dad as he was set down in the apartment, the little Omega inspecting things and waddling around and making little sounds as he sniffed his little nose, clearly happy to be around the two alphas scents-- recognizing that they are his dad's. "Wanna see your room?" Kirishima gently took (name)s tiny hand and led him to his new room, (name) made noises as he looked around and turned to his dads who looked at him fondly "yeah it's yours shorty" Bakugo said, a sense of calm washing over him as they watched the babe look around...before dragging a throw blanket to a corner and ditching it.
The two alphas were confused as little (name) took random soft things and put them in the corner and just stared at it before looking at his dad's happily as if he just did something incredible "is that...?" "A nest? I think so" the two were incredibly proud of their pup and snapped a few pictures of this, kirishima on the verge of tears at how precious it was.
(Name) felt like that last piece of the puzzle as followed his dad's around happily.
They just worried how he would handle all his aunt's and uncles.
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bakugoushotwife · 9 months
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kinktober day eight: overstimulation kink
>>> gojo x pussydrunk is so real and canon don't try to convince me otherwise. also, everyone clap and shower me in praise, i wrote a gojo smut w/o a daddy kink!!!!!
>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: overstim pls, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), creampie, mating press, petnames, slight size kink? >>>wc: 2.3k >>> event masterlist
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satoru gojo is a lot of things. the world’s strongest sorcerer, yes. renowned six eyes user after hundreds of years, yes. absolutely insufferable to most of his loved ones, another yes. he’s also undeniably and insatiably obsessed with you. you’re his person, the one designed to understand, support, and love him, you’re the one thing about him that makes everything else seem irrelevant by comparison. so it’s no surprise when he puts you on a pedestal, worshiping you as if you were the honored one. in a way, you are. you’re the one hand-crafted just for him, that at least made you the chosen one, no? and he certainly chose to spend all his free time with you, despairing every second away from home. you consumed nearly every thought of his even this far into your relationship, and all of his money was spent on or for you. oh how the mighty have fallen, the most powerful man of the modern era absolutely wrapped tight around your little finger. he’s whipped, and absolutely proud of it. your love looks good on him, and he’s honored in more ways than one. 
which must explain why he’s been so miserable for the past few days. he hadn’t left your side for longer than a night’s rest since he met you because satoru gojo also is the definition of a stage four clinger. this mission had drained him of joy, running around wrestling grade one curses with his kids was nowhere near as fun as laying in your arms or pinning those arms to your sides to keep you from pushing him away as he lapped away at you…sigh. he couldn’t wait to be home. his imagination wasn’t doing it for him anyways.
not even his teleportation abilities got him to his house quick enough. he sighs contently at the comforting smell of his living room, some fancy vanilla and lavender air plug-in thing you insisted he needed. he can sense you immediately, seemingly asleep. it was rather late at night, but he still feels his heart sink a little in disappointment. but as he silently makes his way down the hall, he can hear little sniffles and ragged breaths. you were crying, he realizes. 
“don’t tell me you’re crying because you miss me?” he pouts from the doorway, the sound of his voice ceasing your little sobs. he’s grinning at you, one of his award winning ones where his eyes sparkle like a clear pool on a summer day and his nose crinkles up so adorably and everything. you rub at your eyes just to make sure he’s really back, and then you throw a pillow at him for the comment. 
“course i was, you ass. it’s almost been a week!!” you whine, and he’s abusing his powers again to pull you into his chest, suddenly laying beside you in the bed—the pillow plopping against the floor. he adorns that same grin, large hands pawing away your tears. 
“i’m flattered, really, but my girl’s got no reason to cry. you know nothing could keep me from coming home to you.” he muses, kissing your forehead. your hands close around his wrists as you give him a weak smile of approval. 
“i know–but you weren’t answering any of my texts and it was only supposed to be a three day mission.” you reason with a sniffle, burying your face in his chest so you can squeeze him tighter. he sighs with a little wave of guilt knocking into him at your words. he should have made time to at least let you know he was alright. 
he sighs at his mistake. “my bad princess!” one of his hands rests on the back of your head, the other in the dip of your waist. “i was absolutely miserable without you though, i was too distracted trying to finish so i could get home.” he pouts, still smiling brightly at you as he slides his hand lower to your hip. you huff in response. then you throw a punch to his chest lightly after you lean back from the hug, abusing your own knowledge of infinity being off in your presence to your advantage. 
“that’s for making me worry!” you pout, still sniffling a little bit. He frowns, ducking down to kiss the tip of your nose. he uses his grip on your face to steer your gaze up to him, and then he kisses the corner of your mouth. 
“oh–i can’t have that.” his thumbs move back and forth over your cheekbones. “let me make it up to you?” he croons, easing his hand to your ass to squeeze on your mound, a sly smirk replacing the sweet grin he’d worn previously. you gasp a little, especially after he gives your ass a light little smack. “i did miss you terribly, after all.” 
it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to rile you up. but you’ve missed him too, you hadn’t been without him for longer than a day or two, so the six it’s been was borderline torture for a couple as addicted to each other as you two are. you spread your hands out across his shoulders, feeling the dips and swells of his chest and collarbones beneath your fingers. you nod, his hand hard at work kneading the fat of your backside. “be my guest.” 
he grins, giving you a proper kiss. his lips are warm and sweet tasting as always and he wastes no time moving his hands up under your shirt to remove it, chuckling when you yank on his shirt with haste. it’s clear you missed him just as bad, and he can’t deny his little love. he leans back for enough separation to peel his top off, humming happily when you’re smashing your boobs up against him in another tight hug and smothering kiss. the way your body feels against his is intoxicating, and he can’t help but relish the warmth your soft and supple skin provides. his hand quickly snakes between you, locating your throbbing need easily. it’s muscle memory with as many times as he’s done this, your lips wrestling for dominance as his fingers swipe over your panty-clad bundle. you always whine so prettily into his mouth, your hips seemingly moving with a mind of their own every time he touches you. he smiles against your mouth, feeling his own cock pulse with excitement at the cute noises you make. 
the way the fabric of your panties presses against you makes your whines turn into moans, the pleasure starting to mount in your gut. satoru loves this, the slutty pajamas you sleep in of just his shirt and a pair of panties only making everything easier. he has the best seat in the house to you wiggling against the pillows, soft moans spilling from your lips as your little hand tries to add to your pleasure by pinching at your chest. it doesn’t take long at all before you’re grasping at his wrist to keep his hand still, spilling over the edge with nothing but his fingers and the occasional sloppy kiss to your face and neck. 
but he’s missed you, he couldn’t dare stop there. he slides down your body, giving your nipple a quick lick on his way to settle in between your legs. he smiles at the sight greeting him, the cute little wet patch soaking through your undies that was growing darker by the second. he presses his nose against the spot, taking in a deep sniff and sighing it out happily. “god i missed ya so bad, sweetness. you know i gotta taste, i almost forgot what it’s like..” 
you giggle as he loops his fingers in the waistline and peels the wet fabric down your legs, discarding them in a forgotten pile. you spread your legs for him easily, watching his tired eyes hum with vibrance and excitement as he looks at your sopping core. he’s on you in a matter of seconds, his hot tongue spooning out your release for him to drink up. it has your back arching off the bed instantly, the long muscle caressing your insides for his own pleasure just as much as your own. he moves so fast and so sloppy as he moans at your flavor, moving up to suckle on your clit, his teeth gnashing over the bundle without care. he knows your inner workings inside and out, able to work you up and over the edge as quickly or slowly as he willed it. you know better than anyone that that ability paired with his normal insatiability meant you were in for a long night. 
“oh sh–shit baby.” you whine, feeling that delicious burn of pleasure mount in your gut. your eyes drift closed as your fingers snatch handfuls of his white tresses in an effort to ground yourself. he just chuckles, rapidly flicking his tongue over your clit, purposefully trying to drive you to the edge as many times as he could tonight just to prove to you that he couldn’t get his mind off you for one second while he was away. even as dangerous as the stakes of the mission were, he couldn’t bring himself out of his daydream of going back home to your waiting embrace and spending the rest of the day doing exactly this—watching your pretty eyes roll back into your head as your legs shake around his face. 
every suck and lick is calculated expertly, you couldn’t hold back any longer. you whine softly, tugging on his silky hair as you coat his mouth and chin with your juices. you know better though, he won’t stop here. he only proves you right, lapping at your fluids once more before sticking his fingers in the fluttering hole and returning to suck at the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, too wound up from your last orgasm to handle the harsh way his mouth moves over you or the speed of his fingers curling inside. you squeal and kick your legs, trying with all your feeble might to escape him. he knows if you really needed to stop you would give him the special code word you instilled at the beginning of your relationship, so he doesn’t hold back in his relentless finger fucking, letting his teeth bite at your need in a way that had your toes curling and legs jerking before you even came again. you’re whining and panting, and he thinks you’ve never looked better than this, an absolute mess just for him; letting him have his way with you just to prove you missed him too. it makes him so proud. you can feel that pleasurable burn again, mixed with something foreign. it was almost like you had swallowed a bunch of rocks, and you could only gasp out to communicate that this time was going to be different. he felt your thighs tighten under his grip, a clear cut sign that you were close yet again. he giggled to himself, putting his work into overdrive to get you there for the third time in under fifteen minutes. 
you pull his hair way harder than he’s experienced at your hand before—not that he’s complaining, and then you spray liquid all over his face and chest. he’s gawking up at you as he watches the streams, sitting up to avoid it hitting him in the eyes. he’s grinning like a madman though, easy circles over your clit to soothe you through it while his other hand tracks down his shirt. 
“oh my god?? my pretty girl just squirted for me.” he giggles, wiping his face and upper body clean. your eyes are drooping, but you’re returning his grin. he leans over to kiss you, rewarding you for the performance. “so hot. wanted you in doggy, but my poor girl wouldn’t be able to hold herself up.” he teases, shoving your legs to bend up by your chest. 
he slips in so easily he’s fighting not to bust immediately. you swallow up his length so gorgeously, his head falls back and he moans. you feel so good, still so tight and gripping but obviously soaked to the bone. you’ve made such a mess on the bed the two of you may have to sleep in the guest bedroom but he doesn’t care. he’s determined to fuck a fourth one out of you even if it takes all night. your nails dig into his forearms with his first thrust. everything is so sensitive, you can feel every vein and ridge along his shaft as the tip bumps along your womb. 
“fuck–so good, angel. missed you so bad, can’t ya tell?” he giggles, drawing your legs to wrap around his waist. he keeps ramming his length in, a rhythmic snap of his hips against yours and his balls following close behind and your open-mouthed pants filling the room. you can’t respond and he knows that, but he still talks to you anyway, enjoying the way your brows scrunch in frustration at him. your fingers dig and claw at him, with your pussy spasming so rapidly he wonders if it’s normal. 
this time, it nearly hurts to cum. your eyes squeeze shut and you grip him so tightly he can’t move, that fact alone enough to have him painting ribbons of white against your insides with a guttural moan. he squeezes your hips, his chest and face red from all the hard work and forehead sheening with sweat. satoru leans down to give you a sweet kiss, suffocating the sounds of recovery from you both. you can feel him grinning, and you want to get onto him for being so cocky, but you don’t have the energy. he’s already on it though, taking advantage of your hazy in-and-out state to get you cleaned up and tucked back under the sheets, complete with a bottle of water on the nightstand and all. 
“so happy to be home, princess.” he says, long arms closing around your waist and hard chest caressing your back. 
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asahicore · 1 year
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our secret moments - lhs (m)
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"our secret moments in a crowded room / they got no idea about me and you // all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you" - dress by taylor swift
series masterlist - part one - part two - part three
100 kisses masterlist - prompts 4 (breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours), 26 (“i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in”) & 19 (“if we’re caught kissing we’re most likely dead but let’s risk it”)
pairing. best friend’s brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. After avoiding Heeseung for a week, Chaeyeong makes you talk things out with him. In the weeks that follow, the two of you sneak around at night, sharing secret kisses in the backseat of his car and getting to know each other on a deeper level. If you make sure to be careful, there's no reason it should go wrong, right? genre. secret relationship au, fluff, smut (mdni!!), hint of angst at the end word count. 24.2k 😂 a/n. after a thousand years she's finally out!! i'm really sorry for making you guys wait but i was struggling with writing motivation and as you can see she's a bajillion words long so it took me forever to finish it. at least my amazing beta reader bestie in charge @zreamy edited it in like twelve seconds which was super awesome of her oh also shout out to the anon who recommended dress by tswift for this part ur very smart!! ok will stop talking now hope u guys like it and as always pls lmk what u think!!
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Heeseung is confused.
He’s always proudly considered himself someone who easily understands other people, who isn’t rattled by sudden shifts in moods and who can adjust to different situations and attitudes. He’s observant and likes trying to figure out what the people around him are thinking or feeling, going over all the possibilities and finding the right way to fix a situation. In that aspect, he’scompletely unlike his sister Seeun, who, always straightforward, prefers asking directly. 
But Heeseung doesn’t see the fun in that.
His ability to understand others so well also allows the people around him to rely on him whenever they have concerns or troubles - they trust him to listen intently and provide solutions as best as he can. Even though he has few friends, he knows them inside out, and he’ll always choose that over having tons of friends he doesn’t really know.
This is where the confusing part starts for him. He likes to think of you as a friend - not a close friend like Sunghoon or Jay, but still a friend. You greet each other and even sometimes talk when you run into each other at school or at his place; you take the bus home together every once in a while; you remember each other’s birthdays; you even spent a few hours making a puzzle together once. Surely, that’s what friends do, Heeseung thinks. But to his great despair, understanding other people means he also understands himself well, and he can’t fool himself for that long.
He knows a friend wouldn’t make him feel the way you do. He can’t even blame it on your being a girl, because Chaeyoung, whom he basically sees just as often as you, or any of the girls in his classes that he sees on a daily basis, don’t make his palms sweat and his heart race like you do.
Admittedly, the truth would be closer to ‘my little sister’s best friend who I get even more nervous and awkward than usual around and gives me butterflies every time she so much as looks at me and is awfully pretty and smart and funny, which doesn’t help any of this.’ 
But ‘friend’ is easier. 
So he sticks to it and forces himself to look you in the eye when you talk and to start conversations with you, like he does with all his other friends, hoping that someday, he will finally feel normal around you. 
Sadly, that day doesn’t seem to come, and before he knows it, fall arrives and he’s whisked away to college. That’s where he meets Jake.
Jake was Heeseung’s roommate whom he had been terrified of as soon as he laid eyes on him, for Jake seemed to be the complete opposite of Heeseung and the exact type of guy he had hated in high school. The loud type, who sat at the back of the room and paid no attention to the teacher because he was too busy annoying girls or making fart noises with his armpit. The type who made fun of Heeseung’s glasses.
Heeseung was terrified of Jake for about five minutes (and with reason - the first thing Jake had said to him was “Cool glasses, bro”) until they started talking and he realized that he was doing the same major as him, shared a lot of his interests both academic and hobby-wise, and was basically just as much of a nerd as him; he simply hid it much better. Not that Heeseung wanted to hide it or even understood why he should.
One of Jake’s freshman-year goals was to get into a fraternity. But not just any - he had his eyes set on Sigma Sigma Pi because his brother was an alumnus and he had told Jake - in those exact words - that college life wasn’t worth living if you weren’t part of a fraternity. This meant that presence at the first party of the semester was mandatory. Heeseung had shivered at the word ‘party’, but Jake was so resolute that he decided to support his friend and come along, letting himself be convinced that even he might find some fun in it.
Three pints of cheap beer and five shots of tequila later, he concluded that maybe frat parties weren’t so bad after all. As soon as they’d seen him, a group of upperclassmen had taken his crooked glasses and lanky limbs as signs of social awkwardness and decided to help him loosen up by bringing him directly to the kitchen where all the good stuff was. Jake hadn’t expected that Heeseung would be the one to catch their eye, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting to party with the frat bros on his first night of college.
Heeseung, whose lips had never touched so much as a drop of alcohol, was wasted barely two hours into the party. Jake fared slightly better, but only because he knew better than to accept every drink that came his way. To this day, Heeseung finds himself unable to remember anything that happened after eleven p.m. that night, so imagine his surprise the next morning when he woke up half-naked in a stranger’s bed. 
Heeseung, who had practically never had a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. Heeseung, who had never even been close to getting his first kiss, and whose dick only knew his right hand. Heeseung, who had had a singular crush his whole life, and had never been able to do anything about it. So imagine his surprise when said stranger turned out to be a girl - and a pretty one, at that - who was smiling down at him as he blinked his eyes open and asking him if he slept well.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, close to Heeseung’s chest, which he rapidly covered with a blanket as soon as he realized it was bare. He was sleepy and confused, but more than that, he was hungover - his head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he might be sick any second. Obviously, Heeseung had never had a hangover before, nor had he ever woken up in a girl’s bed with no idea of how he got there, and the two new unexpected experiences made him unable to think or speak. He was just really confused. And really sleepy.
The girl slightly furrowed her eyebrows but laughed, seemingly amused by Heeseung’s behavior. “Are you okay?”
“I- um, yeah, I’m fine, but I, um…”
Heeseung winced at his own awkwardness, but he had no idea how to behave in such a situation. He also wasn’t sure how to tell this girl that he had no idea who she was or what he was doing with her.
She gave him a weird look but continued laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
This only confused Heeseung further, because he always acted like this. He looked away from her questioning eyes and found an interesting spot on the blanket for his eyes to focus on. “What, um, what happened last night? I think I had too much to drink…” he said, voice getting quieter the more he spoke.
This girl was apparently having a lot of fun, because his words only made her laugh more. “You can say that again. You were out.” Heeseung’s head whipped at that and his expression was so alarmed that she instantly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.” 
He still didn’t say anything and looked terrified out of his mind. “Do you not remember?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Anything?” He shook his head again.
She sighed. “Do you know my name?” 
Heeseung looked down again, and she could feel his guilt in the third head-shake.
“Guess you really did drink a lot. I’m Yunjin,” she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.
He cleared his throat and took the girl’s hand. “H-Heeseung.”
Yunjin tilted her head at Heeseung as if trying to figure him out. “You know, you were really different last night. A completely different person.”
No matter how mortifying the thought of behaving inappropriately was to Heeseung, he preferred knowing what he did to staying in the dark. “What was I like?” he asked, sounding almost scared.
Yunjin took a second to think. “You were just really… confident,” she said, and Heeseung looked at her in total disbelief. “You talked to everyone, danced like crazy, flirted with me…” She paused for a second, then looked at Heeseung with a teasing smile. “You’re a really good kisser, you know.”
Heeseung’s eyes widened so much they could’ve popped out of their sockets. “Me?!” he exclaimed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Yunjin just laughed and nodded.
“But right now, you’re like a beaten puppy or something. You act like I’m gonna punch you any second,” she joked, finally getting a chuckle out of Heeseung. 
They talked for some more, and he relaxed enough to ask more questions. But maybe he shouldn’t have had, because his embarrassment reached its peak when Yunjin told him that she had taken him upstairs the previous night, not realizing how drunk he was because of how drunk she was, but that they hadn’t done anything more than kissing. He asked whether he’d fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed, so Yunjin, reluctantly, had to inform him that he “couldn’t get it up” - her words. That was why he’d woken up in just his underwear. 
Luckily for him, their conversation was cut short when the rightful owner of the room kicked them out. He scrambled to put his clothes back on, and he and Yunjin ran into Jake in the hallway just as they exited the room.
“Heeseung! My man!” Jake exclaimed, circling his friend’s shoulders with his arm and ruffling his hair. The three of them decided to go get breakfast together in an attempt to fight off their hangovers, and a beautiful friendship ensued. Jake and Yunjin quickly figured out how fun it is to tease Heeseung for his awkwardness and nerd tendencies, but they were also really good friends. 
It didn’t take long for them to find out about his long-standing crush on his sister’s best friend, and they immediately made it their mission to help Heeseung channel his alter ego so that he could finally make his move on you. He was reluctant at first, but after some time, he found that it was fun to party on the weekends, flirt shamelessly with strangers (and yes, sometimes make out with them) and hit the gym with Jake rather than stay holed up in his room and just study or game. They convinced him to get a haircut and some nicer clothes, and they even went to get their ears pierced together on a night when the alcohol made them feel like it was the greatest idea ever.
Of course, Jake and Heeseung were accepted in Sigma Sigma Pi, and Yunjin in the twin sorority. Heeseung developed this sort of odd reputation of being a player and a huge flirt but never actually taking a girl back to his room. Not to say no one tried - many girls heard about him and thought they would be the one to bag this boy that only seemed to get more handsome at every party, but no matter what they did or said, they were no match for you. 
Even though he hadn’t seen you in months, you were still on his mind all the time. To say he missed you would be an understatement, and it was a weird feeling, considering you were barely friends. But he missed taking the bus with you and hearing you laugh, even if it was at him, even when you were teasing him. He missed getting a glimpse of you in the hallways or seeing your shoes at the entrance of his house when he came home from school. He daydreamed about those hours you had spent together working on a puzzle together more often than he’d like to admit.
He didn’t like the idea that some girls might think he was leading them on, but once he knew his flirting actually worked on people, he couldn’t wait to see you again and try his new tricks on you. He tried not to self-doubt too much, but he was scared that you wouldn’t like it - he wanted to get a positive reaction out of you, not make you want to run the other way.
So when he finally came home for the summer and started working his charm on you, he was immensely relieved to see you get shy and flustered around him. He finally understood why you’d always teased him - there was nothing like knowing your heart had skipped a beat because of him, much like his had because of you thousands of times before.
It’s hard to always keep his cool around you, however, and he also finds himself getting nervous once in a while. But the hope that you might like him back keeps him going, so he takes every opportunity he can to talk to you and, while he’s at it, call you pretty or smile at you (a smile he’s practiced many times in the mirror for maximum effectiveness). To his immense joy, it works every time - so when the party rolls around, he knows he has to make an actual move. It also helps that he’s invited his number one wingman to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that his confidence never wavers.
He thinks he’s hit the jackpot when the bottle lands on you and on him right afterwards. He thinks he’s reached heaven when he finally feels your lips on his, when he finally gets to have you close and touch your hair and hold your waist and have your hands on him. The seven minutes pass by in a flash, and heaven is ripped away from him by his own best friend when the closet doors open - but the worst part happens during the days that follow. Those are hell.
You do the one thing that he had hoped you wouldn’t - you run away from him. In one week, you don’t even say ten words to him, just greet him quickly and proceed to escape as far as you can. He notices the change in your behavior right away - how could he not? And so a thousand possibilities run through his mind, ranging from “the kiss was awful, and she hates my guts, and she never wants to see my face ever again” to “she’s just scared about the repercussions this could have if Seeun finds out.” None of his friends can calm him down or get him to think straight.
This whole ordeal makes him panic so much that he has fully gone off flirty mode - how could he flirt with you if he couldn’t even get you to talk to him? He had been sure he’d read into your reactions right, that you had feelings for him, and that he was right to make a move, but not anymore. Now, he was just confused.
--
Since that fateful party, you’ve unconsciously started seeing your life as pre-Heeseung incident and post-Heeseung incident. 
Pre-Heeseung incident: it’s painful having such an intense one-sided crush, but at least you can keep it to yourself and not have to worry about Seeun’s reaction to you being in love with her brother. Sure, said brother’s constant flirting and general existence don’t make things easy for you, but it’s better to keep it a secret than to act on it.
Post-Heeseung incident: you have no idea what to do with yourself now that you know what it actually feels like to kiss and touch Heeseung, so you’ve resorted to avoiding him like the plague and pretending nothing has ever happened. It’s not fun either, and having to keep your inner turmoil to yourself is even harder than before, but you don’t want to risk your friendship with Heeseung over one kiss.
On the afternoon of day five, you’re going crazy reiterating the events of the party, so you decide to text the girls and ask them to come over. They both answer that they’ll be there in fifteen, but not even three minutes after you’ve sent the text, Chaeyeong appears at your bedroom door, face red and sweaty like she’s just run a marathon.
Since it’s Chaeyeong, you’re only mildly surprised to see her there, but you’re curious about her quick arrival nonetheless. “You’re already here?”
“Y/N, we need to talk,” she says with all the seriousness in the world. You’d be scared shitless if these words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, but knowing your best friend, she’s just exaggerating the gravity of whatever this is about.
Even though you try to match her earnestness, you can’t keep the amusement out of your voice when you answer, “Sure, go ahead.” 
She catches onto your lack of seriousness right away. “You think this is funny?” she says in an almost threatening way. “I came early so we could talk about your little Heeseung problem without Seeun.”
That’s enough to shut you up for a few seconds as you look at her mouth agape, heat rising to your face. She takes your silence as a victory and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for you to say something. “My little Heeseung problem?” you echo stupidly, and she nods. “I don’t have a little Heeseung problem.” You know that nothing about your tone or expression is convincing, but you still hope - in vain - that she’ll let you off the hook.
“No, you’re right, you have a big Heeseung problem. And it must be discussed.”
You roll your eyes as she takes a seat next to you on your bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously, you know.”
One thing about Chaeyeong is she’s never at a loss for words. It makes arguing with her exhausting because she’s always got something to bite back at you, no matter how much of a reach it is. So before the conversation even starts, you know she’s going to win it. You’re afraid of the truth she might shove into your face, but you figure it needs to be done at some point, so you let her.
“What’s serious is this crush you’ve been harboring on him all these years, and that now that something has finally happened and you might be going somewhere with him, you’re running the other way.”
You only hear the beginning of her sentence, too focused on the bomb she’s just dropped on you. “You-you knew?”
It’s her turn to eye-roll. “Only an idiot wouldn’t notice how much you like that boy, Y/N. Which means that Seeun is an idiot, by the way.”
The mention of your other best friend makes you wince slightly. It feels wrong to be going behind her back to talk about your crush on her big brother like this. “Yeah, I know,” Chaeyeong says as if reading your mind. “I’ve thought about it, and I honestly have no idea how she’ll react.”
You both look at your feet for a while, mulling over the different ways this could go down with Seeun. “It definitely doesn’t look good,” you say defeatedly. “I mean, if her reaction at the party is anything to go by. When we were playing the game, you know. When the bottle landed on me and Heeseung, she looked completely disgusted, but when we came out she didn’t even question whether something might have happened, as if that was just impossible for her.”
Chaeyeong sighs. “Well, if you tell her, she’ll definitely be surprised. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it… right?”
Your friend’s doubt only makes you feel even worse, and you drop your head into your palms with a groan. “I hate everything about this.”
Chaeyeong nudges your shoulder with her own, making you turn your head to look at her. “I’m sure you didn’t hate that whole part when you were in the closet with-”
“Chaeyeong!” you scream before she can finish her godforsaken sentence, but it only makes her break into a fit of giggles. You try to pretend to be mad at her but a smile breaks through your pout at the sound of her laughter. 
“Well? You can’t deny it, can you?”
It takes another nudge of her shoulder with yours to make you reply. “Of course not, but-”
“So that’s it then! Let’s not think about any of the possible bad outcomes for now, and just focus on getting you and him together.” She doesn’t even give you time to answer - your wide eyes and panicked expression are enough for her to know what you would say. “Listen, I’ve had to sit here and watch you and Heeseung make heart eyes at each other without the other knowing, and that was already excruciating enough - I can’t stand to watch you make heart eyes at each other now that you know what the other feels.”
It takes you a second to process all of her words. “Y-you think Heeseung makes heart eyes at me?” you ask weakly. It’s like you have selective hearing today.
“Girl! He somehow manages to make it even more obvious than you. Also, Jake told me that Heeseung told him that he likes you. Can’t get much more reassurance than that.” Your dumbstruck expression makes her look at you in disbelief. “You seriously don’t see it?” she says in a fascinated voice, as if in wonder at your stupidity. You can only slightly shake your head no.
“I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with…” She sounds like an overworked office worker and mother of four rather than a high school senior on her summer break, and her attitude would make you laugh if you weren’t so rattled by the thought that Heeseung might have actually liked you all these years, you were just too caught up in your own feelings for him to notice it.
She takes your hand in hers and sighs. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t really believe it,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I remember the way he would get all shy and blushy whenever you were around, and that boy was already one hell of a nervous wreck on his own. And the blatant flirting since he’s come back makes me want to applaud him and vomit everywhere at the same time,” she says with a chuckle.
“Really?” you ask, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let yourself be convinced by your friend’s words.
“Really. And you, I’ve noticed how you pay more attention when his name is mentioned. And you were always a bit cheerier on the days you came back from school after riding the bus with him. Don’t even get me started on the way you’ve been this summer. You couldn’t get more obvious. It screams ‘I can’t handle being around this man for more than a minute so I’ll just run away,’ and I mean that in a good way.”
You look at Chaeyeong with a pout, and her smile grows bigger. You squint your eyes as you look away, trying to keep your grin down. “Guess I wasn’t as discrete as I thought I was.”
“You really weren’t,” she laughs. “Probably thought it was your own little secret, right?”
You’re slightly embarrassed that you’d been uncovered such a long time ago, but it’s also a relief, being able to share this with someone. 
“I did…” you admit, and it makes you both break into laughter. After you’ve calmed down, you ask Chaeyeong why she’d never said anything about it before. She thinks about it for a bit before answering.
“I’m not completely sure. Maybe because you and Heeseung were both such losers, I thought that even if I told you I knew, nothing would happen.” You scoff, slightly offended, but more because you know she’s right than anything. “And I don’t know, you two were just so cute with your crush on each other. I wanted to let you figure it out on your own, but now it’s taken so long and it’s right in your face but you’re still doing nothing about it, so I got fed up.”
You nod at her words, taking it all in. Was it really time to let Heeseung know about your feelings?
“I also feel bad for Heeseung, you know.” You look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Poor guy has been in agony these days. You need to stop ignoring him. I know it’s because you feel weird about him being Seeun’s brother, but I swear I think he might die if you don’t just at least talk to him. I’ve actually talked to Jake…” she reveals, and you wouldn’t have questioned her talking to Heeseung’s friend if it weren’t for the way she said it.
“You have?” you repeat with a suggestive tone.
“I have,” she says with a smile, “but that’s not the topic right now. Anyway, he said that Heeseung’s been losing his mind trying to figure out what to do. I think it’d make things a lot easier if you just went and talked to him, cleared things up, confessed your undying love for him, hm?”
“Who are we confessing to?” Seeun asks, suddenly appearing at the door and making you and Chaeyeong scream in genuine terror.
“Nice to see you guys, too,” she chuckles before flopping down on the bed.
Chaeyeong is only good with her words when it comes to arguing - she’s perhaps the most terrible liar you’ve encountered in your life. But at least she knows this, and is always deft at switching the topic rather than attempting to come up with an excuse. “Y/N and I were just talking about watching some movies with the boys tonight. Apparently, they’re having a movie night at your place since you’ve got the best TV, and Jake asked if we wanted to join.”
You know better than to look surprised by Chaeyeong’s words and make it clear that she’s lying, but you’re still caught off-guard by the sudden news. Movie night meant being in a darkened room in proximity to Heeseung, and we all know what happened the last night you were in a dark room with him. 
“Y/N and I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to ask you first. Right, Y/N?” Chaeyeong suddenly prompts, momentarily tearing you away from your thoughts of Heeseung’s lips on yours. 
“Right,” you reply, somehow successfully pretending like you’re not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. You’re even more embarrassed now that you know that Chaeyeong and Jake know about your little crush, and you can’t even pretend it isn’t there like you usually do.
Seeun hums. “Alright, sounds fun.”
The three of you chat the rest of the afternoon away, and before you know it, you’re getting ready to go to Seeun’s house. As you rummage around your drawers for that one pair of soft sweatpants that manages to be the most comfortable article of clothing on Earth while also making your butt look amazing, your phone buzzes twice, and so do Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s. The first notification is of Heeseung having added you to a group chat simply named “movie night”, and the second is of a link being sent to said chat. When you click on it, it redirects you to a poll to rank ten movies in order of how much you want to watch them. Your favorite movie is on the list, and you can’t help but wonder whether it’s a coincidence or whether it’s something you’d talked about during high school and that he’d somehow remembered.
Once everyone has voted, you receive a second link, this one asking you to rank the three top movies in watch order. A smile breaks on your lips at this - it’s very Heeseung of Heeseung to do this and avoid later confrontation. As if to confirm this thought, your phone dings for a third time with a text from him that reads “this is so we don’t spend thirty minutes choosing a movie.” You’re not sure why everything he does is so endearing to you, all you know is that trying to avoid as much conflict as possible is a very Heeseung thing to do, and you’re grateful for it too.
When you get to Seeun’s house around seven-thirty p.m., the first movie is already up on the TV, waiting to be played. It’s horror, and you’re glad it wasn’t picked to be watched last, otherwise, you might’ve had trouble falling asleep. You quickly notice that Heeseung is the only one of the boys not currently sitting on the couch or in an armchair, and the question appearing in your head is answered almost right away when Seeun asks about her brother’s whereabouts. 
“He’s just in the kitchen getting the drinks ready,” Jay answers as he sprawls his body even more across the armchair he’s reserved for himself. 
“Why don’t you go help him out, Y/N?” Chaeyeong proposes with a deceptively innocent smirk, and if Seeun hadn’t been watching, you’d have given your hellspawn of a friend a serious death glare, but all you can do is mumble out “sure” and make your way to the dreaded kitchen. The butterflies you used to feel when thinking of Heeseung or being around him before have now turned into brutal rhinos trampling your insides, and it doesn’t feel so nice. 
“Hey, Heeseung,” you say quietly as you enter the kitchen, and your nerves make your own voice sound unfamiliar to your ears. He gasps at your sudden appearance, a blush immediately creeping on his cheeks, and you’re glad the lid on the bottle of Coke he’s holding is tightly screwed, otherwise, it might’ve spilt everywhere.
“O-oh, hey, Y/N,” he stammers in response. It’s awkward for three seconds as the two of you stare at each other until you remember why you’re here in the first place. 
“Um, I heard you might need some help?” you ask, and again, the sound of your own voice, so squeaky and unsure, makes you wince.
“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Here, you can fill this bowl with ice.”
You comply, and the refreshing feeling of the ice against your fingers somewhat helps to cool you down. It’s only quiet for a few moments, because although starting a conversation is terrifying, the tension in the silence and the thought of your feelings being left unsaid is far worse. So you take a deep breathe and open your mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry-”
You and Heeseung exchange a bewildered look, the surprise of apologizing at the same time quickly fading out into a burst of shy giggles. “You go first,” he says, risking another glance your way as he busies himself again with the glasses and the drinks. 
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all week,” you start. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just… scared. And I didn’t know what to say.”
Explaining your behavior any further means confessing your feelings for him and articulating your fear of Seeun finding out, and even though it must be all clear as day by now, you’re still not quite ready to talk about it. Not now, when your friends are in the room right next to you. So you don’t add anything and hope that Heeseung has developed some sort of telepathy skills over the last few days. 
When he doesn’t press any further, instead saying it’s okay and smiling at you (properly, with eye contact), a weight seems to be lifted off your heart. “Your turn now,” you say, still smiling. You’ve emptied the ice cube tray into the bowl, so all you can do is look at Heeseung and wait for him to speak. If only you knew how much harder that made it for him. 
“I’m sorry for kissing you and then acting weird.” He can’t quite bring himself to look at you as he speaks, and even though he’s done getting the drinks ready, he keeps his eyes trained on the glasses as if they’ll tell him what to say next. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he adds quickly, “not at all.” Heat rises to your face and you have to tear your gaze away from him for a second. “I was confused ‘cause I never thought you might… want that too,” he says, voice quieter than before, like he’s scared that the others might hear him - like he’s scared that you might hear him. 
The words are right there at the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free - so for once, you comply. “I do.” Your voice is just as quiet as his, perhaps even more so, and if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, you’d have thought he didn’t hear you. 
Your gazes lock, and the simultaneous relief and fear you feel are mirrored in his wide eyes. His face then breaks into a huge grin, and he is so dazzlingly handsome that you have to look away once more. You smile at the ground instead, grateful that breathing is something you do without having to think about it, otherwise, you’d have stopped doing it a long time ago. 
Neither of you says anything more, letting the silence do its job. You look back up at him as he sighs deeply, almost contentedly, it seems. He smiles at the glasses as if they told him the right thing to say. He looks at you, smiles wider, looks away, looks back, looks away again, scratches the back of his head. You watch the whole time, small giggles bubbling up your throat and out of your lips. 
He sighs once more and looks back at you, keeping his eyes on yours this time. “Okay, we should head back now. But talk more later?” he asks, and you nod immediately. Any other time, you’d have been embarrassed to show your interest so obviously, but you’d just told each other you both wanted to kiss the other, so agreeing to talk more later felt like nothing now. 
“Okay,” he repeats, grin still wide on his lips as he picks up the tray and heads back to the others, you following close behind.
“Took you long enough,” Seeun says, scrolling on her phone as you step into the living room, but you’re too focused on something else to quip back at her.
Jay is still reigning over his armchair while Sunghoon, Seeun, Chaeyeong and Jake, in this order, occupy the main couch that faces the TV. This means that the only spot left for you and Heeseung to sit in is the other armchair opposite Jay’s, obviously big enough for one person but slightly too small for two people to sit comfortably on, as in to sit without their bodies touching each other.
Heeseung had just admitted he wanted to kiss you. You had also just admitted to Heeseung you wanted to kiss him. Now, you were going to sit together in an armchair that forced two people into proximity, and you had to pretend like that was fine. 
When you manage to take your eyes away from the godforsaken armchair, your eyes meet Jake’s, then Chaeyeong’s, and that’s when you realize. They did it on purpose. The poorly-concealed smirks on their faces and giggles threatening to escape their lips as they take in your reaction make it all too clear. You could strangle your best friend right now. You know she’s doing you a favor, and deep down, you’re thankful for it, but you also know sitting through these movies is going to be the most arduous task of your life when Heeseung is right there. Close enough to touch, close enough to lace your fingers together or thread yours through his hair. You remembered very well from your game of seven minutes in heaven that it was just as soft as it looked. 
You send Chaeyeong yet another death glare, but it only makes her smile more. You set the bowl of ice on the table after Heeseung’s put the drinks tray down, and immediately make yourself a glass of Sprite to keep your hands occupied for at least a little bit. 
While you do that, Heeseung takes a seat on the armchair, and the sight you’re greeted with when you turn to sit next to him makes you almost drop your drink. After the little confession-like moment you shared in the kitchen, it seems like all his confidence from before the party has returned to him. He’s taken a comfortable seat indeed - he’s shamelessly manspreading, thighs almost taking up the whole space as if inviting you to find your own seat there. He lets himself be engulfed by the soft cushions as his head falls back against the headrest, exposing his neck and prominent Adam’s apple. 
You’d just gotten used to shy, flustered Heeseung again, only for him to return to his confident self in the blink of an eye. You try not to let it deter you, especially because you’re not the only two in this room, but his smirk as he looks up at you makes it hard not to. All you can do is redirect your death stare towards him, but sadly, much like with Chaeyeong, the only effect it has is to make him smile wider, as if torturing you was a fun pastime for them. 
You mumble at him to scooch then sit down next to him, knees bent close to your chest so your legs don’t touch his too much, but that plan is quickly thrown out of the window when you feel his hand sneaking behind your back until it reaches your waist, settling there. Even with a layer of fabric between his hand and your skin, the contact sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to keep yourself from audibly gasping. Conscious of the drink in your hand, Heeseung pulls you gently towards him, making your bent knees fall to the side and rest on his thigh. So much for keeping your distance.
Even your idea of occupying your hands with a drink turns out to be useless twenty minutes into the movie when the first jumpscare almost makes you spill your Sprite all over you and Heeseung. You take a big gulp before leaning forwards to set your glass on the table, and Heeseung’s hand stays put the whole time, even squeezing gently when you find your seat again. Without the drink, you know it’s a bit weird to stay sitting upright, but you can’t imagine leaning fully back against Heeseung or resting your head on his shoulder. This already feels like a lot - to be even closer to him would probably send you into cardiac arrest. Plus, even in the darkness of the room, the light coming from the TV screen would be enough for the others to see your and Heeseung’s position on the armchair, and you definitely don’t need Seeun to see you cuddling up to her brother.
You’re already tense from sitting right next to Heeseung, and the movie playing on the screen is not helping - creepy music that puts you on edge, camera angles that only let you see the character’s face and nothing else, weird silhouettes that flash for just a second - this is one of the rare times a horror movie actually does what it’s supposed to do, i.e. scare you. You almost managed to forget the boy’s presence next to you, but when a particularly suspenseful scene plays, you instinctively reach out to grab something, anything, and of course, that happens to be his wrist. You’re so immersed in the movie that it’s only when he wriggles out of your grasp and takes your hand in his instead that you realize what you’ve done. 
It’s like somebody pressed the pause button as you look down at your intertwined hands, the sound and light coming from the TV screen not registering in your mind anymore. When you dare to look at Heeseung’s face, he’s already shyly smiling down at you. He quickly turns away to watch the movie instead, but you’re still too focused on the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his fingers between yours to care whether the stupid white girl will make it out of the house safely or not.
This is something you’ve daydreamed about a thousand times before. Every time you’d ride the bus together or walk side by side, you wondered what would happen if you just reached out and grabbed his hand. It was always right there - but the line you’d be crossing seemed miles and miles away. Now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s a lot better than you could ever have imagined. You feel like you should be freaking out, scared by what this simple touch means and by the fact that Seeun could turn her head at any moment and see you holding hands with her brother, but all you feel is contentment. Your feelings for Heeseung just needed to be reciprocated, and now that you know they might be - no, that they are - it’s like you can be at peace with them.
Feeling bolder, you squeeze Heeseung’s hand once then bring it to rest on your knee. You sense his gaze on your face once again, but you avoid it and keep your eyes fixated on the TV screen, unable to keep yourself from smiling even though one of the side characters is getting brutally murdered. Your smile only gets bigger when he squeezes your hand back.
You stay like this for so long that your and Heeseung’s hands seem to melt together, and you can hardly tell where your own fingers end anymore. The doorbell rings during another tense scene, making everyone jump in their seats, but it’s just the pizza guy. 
Seeun goes to get the door and pay, and the poor girl has barely placed the pizzas on the coffee table that the boys are already pouncing on it like starved children. Only Heeseung stays put, laughing at his friends and waiting for them to get a slice. The fact that he gives you a plate - with a slice of your favorite pizza, no less - before getting his own shouldn’t make your heart race as much as it does, but your cheeks still heat up at the simple gesture. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide your flustered expression as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’
You all eat your fill and watch the rest of the movie, agreeing that the end was quite disappointing (even though you were all stressing out and holding onto each other for dear life during the climax - Heeseung’s hand found yours again as soon as you were done eating, and you’re pretty sure one of his fingers was close to breaking with how hard you were grabbing him).
To everyone’s surprise, Seeun announces that she’s going to bed halfway through the second movie. 
“But it’s only eleven p.m.!” Chaeyeong protests, as if knowing the time would make Seeun change her mind.
“I know, but that pizza took me out for some reason. I’ve been falling asleep for the past half hour, might as well just go to bed.” There’s not much to argue, so a chorus of ‘goodnights’ ensues as Seeun trudges upstairs. The three on the couch immediately use the added space to spread out more, Sunghoon extending his legs to the side so that the back of his knees rests in Chaeyeong’s lap and his feet in Jake’s. Both of them complain about the weight but don’t do anything to make him actually move, so he contentedly keeps his position.
You can’t help but think that with Seeun gone, you can also make yourself more comfortable. You’re thinking about whether to change your position on the armchair, going over the different ways Heeseung might react, when you catch Chaeyeong’s look. She raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, “what are you waiting for?” as if your next move should be obvious. You look away from her and back at the screen, then start to lean backwards as naturally as possible, but that’s hard to do when your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. Luckily (or not) for you, Heeseung seems to get the message immediately and wraps his free hand around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him - closer than you had intended to.
The loudness of the movie isn’t enough to drown out the sound of your sharp intake of breath at the sudden proximity, and you feel your face heating up when Heeseung chuckles at your reaction. This is a comedy movie you’ve watched a bunch of times already, which makes it all too easy for you to focus on him rather than the screen. Now that your head rests on his shoulder, if you turned your face ever-so-slightly, you could get a proper whiff of his cologne and his skin. You really, really want to bury your nose in his neck and inhale, but you’re afraid that might get you a couple of weird looks.
You look down at your intertwined hands again and happily realize that you can now unabashedly stare at Heeseung’s hands the way you had always wanted to. You can finally play with his long fingers, tracing the outline of them and bending them softly at the knuckles, and admire the lines on his palm as if they might reveal everything you want to know about him. You can finally do it, so you do, almost unconsciously - you don’t realize that you’re touching his hand as freely as if it were your own until you hear his breath start to get shakier. 
You halt your motions right away and look up at him alarmed, scared that you’ve made him uncomfortable when he avoids your gaze. But then he reaches for your hand again and the corner of his lips tug ever-so-slightly into a small smile. You’re not sure if it’s the light of the TV screen on his face, but it even seems like his cheeks have reddened. You’ve been flustered one too many times to not recognize the symptoms, but it’s still surreal to think that you might have the same effect on Heeseung as he has on you.
Giddy with this new realization, you make yourself more comfortable against Heeseung, resting your head in the dip between his neck and his shoulder and bringing your knees closer to him. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist, holding you there. You continue to play with his other hand, only half-paying attention to the movie. In this new position, you can feel Heeseung’s chest rising in rhythm with his breathing, and that is much more mesmerizing to you than any movie could be.
The only times you tear yourself away are when Jay brings snacks in from the kitchen and when you need to go to the toilet between the second and third movies. Other than that, you stay cuddled up close to Heeseung, basking in the warmth you’d been longing for for years. It’s so comfortable that you never want to leave, even when Heeseung’s touch burns as his hand sneakily finds its way underneath your t-shirt to trace patterns against the bare skin of your waist. You almost yelp from how unexpected but pleasant it is.
You both easily stay awake until the end of the third movie, perhaps because your nerves are too much in a frenzy from being so close for you to feel sleepy. Sunghoon, Jake and Chaeyeong, however, have all fallen asleep, and Jay wishes you goodnight and heads upstairs as soon as the movie is over. 
In a whispered conversation that feels too intimate for your own good, you and Heeseung decide to let the others sleep on the couch rather than wake them up, and to clean up the pizza boxes and other things littering the coffee table.
It’s quiet as you throw the trash away and put everything back in cupboards or in the fridge. You’re on your last bite of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza when Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.
“So…”
You look at him as he stands, lower back against the counter and gaze directed towards the ground. Now that you’re in a bright room, you know that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just a trick of the light. A smile that mirrors his grows on your lips at his endearing shyness.
“So…” you echo, making him chuckle.
“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck. You’re not sure how this is the same Heeseung that had held you close to him just moments prior, but you understand that he might revert back to his nervous self when he’s in a more serious situation. You’re not completely relaxed either.
You pretend to think for a second, but you know exactly what it is you want to ask. “Well, there is this thing I’ve been curious about…” you start. He looks at you and tilts his head to the side, so you take it as your cue to go on. “What the hell happened when you were away at college for you to come back so different?” you ask with an amused tone to your voice.
So he tells you about his freshman year. About the party that Jake dragged him to and everything that ensued after it. He doesn’t go into too much detail about exactly how he met Yunjin or all the flirting (and kissing) practice he’s had, just saying that he found ways to build his confidence - and at the end, he quietly confesses that he’d done it to find the courage to confess to you, but that it hadn’t gone so well after all. You try not to dwell on the fact that he changed so much for you, because thinking about it for too long would probably melt you into a puddle. 
“What do you mean, it didn’t go so well?” you question softly, lowering your voice to the same volume as him. You’ve realized that when you and Heeseung talk, you often end up doing so really quietly. You don’t know why you like it so much.
“Well, you know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he starts, trying to make his tone the least reproachful he can, because he’s not mad at you, not at all - if anything, he’s mad at himself. “So I thought I’d really messed things up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up, Heeseung. If anything, I’m the one who made things weird. I just…” You sigh. “I’m so scared of Seeun finding out. But…”
“But?” he prompts, a hopeful look on his face. Clearly, dating his sister’s best friend isn’t as much of a dilemma for him as it is for you. 
“But I’m more scared of letting you go now that I finally have you,” you say to the ground.
A beat passes. “So don’t,” he whispers, voice so low you barely hear it - but you do, and you understand his words loud and clear. They resonate in your head as he takes a step closer to you, then another and another. You feel your heart pulse throughout your entire body when he reaches you, standing right in front of you. 
Your breath hitches when he rests one of his hands on the kitchen counter behind you. Gently, he cups one side of your face with his other hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to look up at him. He’s so close you could count every single one of his eyelashes. 
“So don’t,” he repeats with a small smile. When he bends down to kiss you, melting against his lips is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
The feeling of his soft lips against yours brings you back immediately to that closet. You both only realize just how much you’d been itching to pick things up from where you’d left them when the kiss gets heated in a matter of mere seconds, your need and longing for each other over the past five days evident in the way you pull each other impossibly close.
Your hands reach up, first resting on his shoulders but quickly finding their way towards the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair there almost instinctively, desperate to have something to hold onto. Meanwhile, his hands brush along your sides, moving from your hips to your waist before they encircle your middle in an attempt to bring you closer to him.
There’s no battle for dominance in your kiss, no trying to win the other over, no trying to make the other succumb - rather, you fall easily into each other’s rhythm, relishing in the other’s taste and the long awaited proximity. His mouth is soft against yours, his hair is soft under your hands, and his touch is driving you insane. You never want to stop.
After a few minutes, however, the light-headedness from a lack of air and kissing so passionately gets too much, so you draw back slightly to take a breath - but Heeseung seems to have other plans. He reacts immediately to you pulling away, and doesn’t even give you a second to breathe before pressing his lips back against yours, as though his air were your kiss. 
The suddenness makes you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to brush his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss even further than before. You feel your heartbeat speed up when his hands trail back down your body, but when he lowers himself slightly to reach the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the counter with ease, never once breaking the kiss, you’re pretty sure your soul actually leaves you. All you can think about is Heeseung and all you can do is continue kissing him like your life depends on it. Having your face at the same level as his now that you’re up on the counter makes it all even easier and more comfortable.
But it also means he has easier access to your neck, and as soon as he realizes that, he jumps on the opportunity. Breaking away from the kiss, he presses his lips to the corner of your own before making his way along your jawline and down your neck. Your breaths come out heavy, almost sigh-like, and you really have to keep yourself from making any noise, lest the others in the room right next to you might wake up and hear you. The feeling of Heeseung’s lips on the sensitive skin of your neck is completely new to you, but it’s an amazing kind of new - it’s the kind of new you know you won’t ever get enough of, even when it becomes familiar. 
His kisses are burning hot, and yet goosebumps spread all over your body. When he finds the spot that has you taking in a sharp breath and gripping his hair tighter, Heeseung is quick to focus his attention there and there only. He nips lightly at the skin, and that has you whispering out his name. Hearing that only makes him double down on his actions; he alternates between biting down and kissing to relieve your skin, and he’s only satisfied when there’s a bright red spot in the crook of your neck. God, where did he learn how to do all that? Is this what they teach in college?!
He looks up at you with a proud smile, and he’s so cute that you almost say nothing about the very obvious mark he just left on you, but you still feel the need to scold him. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, doing things like this,” you say with a smile just as bright as his, which probably doesn’t make you look very serious, but you can’t help it - you’re on cloud nine right now.
“What if I want to get into trouble with you?” he replies, gaze fixed on your lips. You can’t say anything in return at that, so you just slightly shake your head in amusement and lean back in to kiss him again. 
It seems that sharing so much oxygen has gotten to both of your heads, because this time around, the kiss is more light-hearted than intense, noses bumping into each other and teeth almost clashing from how hard the both of you are smiling, giggles spilling out through every touch of your lips.
“See? I told you!” 
The sudden sound of Jake’s voice coming from the doorway forces you and Heeseung apart and your face heats up immediately at the sight of Jake, Chaeyeong and even Sunghoon all looking at the two of you with a surprised but proud expression on their faces.
He takes a small step back from you and turns his body to face them, but can’t actually bring himself to look at them; you’re not much better, smiling shyly at your lap and playing with your hands in shame at being caught. At least it wasn’t by Seeun. 
Sunghoon approaches Heeseung with big steps, clapping a hand loudly against his friend’s back when he reaches him. “You finally did it, man! I’m so proud of you,” he exclaims, and actually sounds really excited. 
Heeseung risks a glance your way, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s words, but it only makes you smile harder. You slightly curse yourself for not having realized Heeseung liked you back earlier - you could’ve done this such a long time ago. As Sunghoon continues congratulating Heeseung, you catch Chaeyeong’s gaze, and she winks at you. You find yourself relieved to have her on your side, but you know that sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to Seeun about this. 
Indeed, the five of you head upstairs to go to bed, and before Heeseung and you go your separate ways, he catches your hand, squeezes it once tightly as if to bid you a silent ‘good night,’ then smiles his bright smile at you - and you know you’re in deep, far too deep to keep it secret for long.
(There’s an awkward conversation the next morning when Seeun asks how the hell you had gotten a hickey and Chaeyeong immediately jumps in, saying she did it. “For… practice,” she’d explained with as convincing a smile as she could. Luckily for you both, Seeun wouldn’t put it past her to actually do that, so she didn’t question it much further.)
--
You and Heeseung start sneaking around anyway, not quite ready to reveal your budding relationship to the world (read: Seeun).
You can’t hang out at your house, because your parents would see or hear him, and blabber innocently to the adult Lees, even if you told them not to - why couldn’t they talk to each other about their kids dating? It’s great news! Let’s have a family dinner! What? You don’t want Seeun to know? But she’s your best friend! She’ll understand, she’ll be happy for you!
You don’t need to actually have the conversation to know what your parents will say. You’ve known them for eighteen years, after all.
For more obvious reasons, you can’t hang out at his house, either - if you’re there, it means you’re with Seeun, and the risk of her finding you in her brother’s room was too great to take. 
At least Heeseung has a car. But it’s not like you can go many places, anyway - the town you live in isn’t huge, chances of running into an old classmate or even a friend are high, news travels fast, word of Heeseung and you dating could easily get back to Seeun. You went to your local diner for your first secret date with Heeseung (Chaeyeong, of course, knew about it, but Seeun thought your period cramps were too bad to sleep over that night), and there, you’d seen three different people that you knew, and Heeseung two. 
He didn’t seem to care much about his sister, or anyone for that matter, finding out about the two of you - in fact, if it was up to him, he’d have screamed it to the world right after you’d kissed at the party. But he respected your wishes, and even found your slight paranoia and darting eyes the whole evening somehow endearing - although he wished you’d paid more attention to him than to the other patrons in the diner. You hadn’t even noticed when he stole a whole handful of fries from your plate, or when he switched your strawberry milkshake with his vanilla one.
So he did the one thing he knew would get your attention - when you both reached his car, he led you to the backseat before you could head to the passenger side. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he had you on his lap, a devilish smirk on his lips that you only got a glimpse of before he trapped your own, slightly parted in surprise, in a kiss. There was a faint protest of “what if someone sees us” but any complaint you might have held flew away when his tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entry that you immediately granted. After all, you were just as desperate for more of him as he was for more of you.
You couldn’t break away from the kiss - how could you, when his lips slotted against yours so perfectly, as if you were specially crafted for one another? All you could do was hope that the fire between you two made the windows of Heeseung’s car fog up so that no one could see inside and get a glimpse of what you were doing in there.
It wasn’t any of their business anyway.
That first date opened your eyes to the many advantages of car dates. On warm summer nights like the ones you’re currently having, you can find a wide, empty space, and park there, laying down a blanket on the roof of the car and admiring the stars. You can spend hours sharing childhood anecdotes, asking Heeseung a thousand times about the moment he realized he liked you, and telling each other the things you’d always been too scared to reveal to another person. If you get hungry, you can drive to any food place and enjoy your late-night meal from your seats in the parking lot, or drive to another place with a view - although you don’t really need any sort of scenery when Heeseung sits next to you. His delighted expression as he takes his first bite or his eyes looking at you with fondness you didn’t know you could elicit from someone are some of the beautiful sights your eyes have ever been blessed with.
And after that, because innocent hand-holding and not-so-innocent thigh touches always lead to something else, most nights, you find yourselves in the backseat, basking in each other’s warmth and relishing the other’s touch. Every time, you grow needier. Every time, you need more. But so does he, and so you take and take and take just as much as you give and give and give. Even after two weeks of doing this, you’re just as on edge as before, just as reactive to any certain look he might send your way or any touch of his. You’re so relaxed, so comfortable when the two of you are talking - but as soon as you notice him glancing at your lips, or the streetlights hit him a certain way, you’re reminded of the incredible way his kiss makes you feel, and your mind fixates on it, not satisfied until you have his body close to yours. 
You also quickly find out that Heeseung’s favorite drink is Coke and you almost always taste it on his lips. You even bought Coke-flavored chapstick just to have a trace of him when you can’t be together (you’re also maybe hoping that he’ll taste the soda on your own lips, and start thinking of you whenever he drinks it.
What you don’t know is that Heeseung is always thinking of you, no matter what he’s doing, anyways).
There’s also moments where you both revert back to your flustered selves, like when you stare too hard at him for his liking (he actually loves it, it just makes him really shy) or when he compliments you out of nowhere. In those moments, it’s like you forget about the many passionate kisses you’ve shared, like you’re back on one of those comfortably silent bus rides or in that sunlit room, trying to finish a puzzle together. But then his hand grazes against yours, and you’re reminded you can hold it with confidence now - you can do many things with confidence now. As the days pass, Heeseung is pleasantly surprised to see you initiate more and more of your makeout sessions, and although your impatience to get your hands on him strokes his ego, he’ll never get tired of you avoiding his gaze when he calls you pretty.
You have to make sure not to meet up too often, otherwise your continued absence would raise Seeun’s suspicion, but it’s also hard to go more than a day without spending a little time with the other. It seems that after years of unknown mutual pining, you’ve both run out of patience and can’t stand to be away from each other for too long. This is why, more than once, Heeseung has pulled you into his room just to smell your hair or bury his face in the crook of your neck or make out - but you always make him put a five-minute timer on.
Truth be told, even though you knew your feelings for Heeseung weren’t surface level, in all the times you’d daydreamed about finally being with him, you hadn’t expected it’d be so intense. Maybe that’s what happens when you find out that the other person felt the same way you had felt about them the whole time - you feel so stupid for not finding out sooner that you can’t afford to waste a second, and years of deep emotions are squeezed into mere hours of being able to see each other at a time. 
It’s the hardest when your two friend groups hang out - he’s right there, but you can’t do anything. He sits next to you at the table or on the couch and pretends like everything’s completely normal, but you grow even quieter than usual because his scent and proximity drive you crazy. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you getting flustered or clearly having to hold back - something about only him having that effect on you does something to his brain.
Chaeyeong and Jake are both your allies and worst enemies. While they always cover for you, they also love to put you and Heeseung in… situations. Like “off-handedly” mentioning that game of seven minutes in heaven or that movie night (without mentioning you directly, of course, but they know what you’re thinking and you know what they’re thinking), sending you on snack runs together or somehow leaving you two behind, alone in a room. 
Or proposing an evening at the pool.
During the summer, your municipal pool stays open late at night every day, and on week evenings, it doesn’t get very crowded. If you go there once the sun’s set, the atmosphere is amazing - the glow of the lights in the pool gives the whole space a bright blue hue, and the stars shine directly inside through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If you’re lucky, you and your friends might go on a night when you get the whole place to yourselves.
You know it’s a good idea. You know you’ll all have fun, but you also know you’ll have to pretend that seeing Heeseung half-naked with wet hair isn’t putting you on the verge of spontaneously combusting. The worst part is you don’t even need to use your imagination at all to conjure up that image - you’ve seen him in the hallway as he came out of the shower before, so you already know how devastatingly good he’ll look at the pool. You’re weak in the knees just thinking about it.
Getting ready for the pool and the drive there pass in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in the changing room, and all you need to do is dress down to your bikini and head towards the pool where a shirtless Heeseung will be waiting to greet you. 
You wrap your towel around your waist in an attempt to cover yourself until you actually need to get into the water. Because not only are you freaking out about seeing Heeseung in his swimsuit, you’re also nervous about him seeing you half-naked. The last time you went to the pool together, puberty still hadn’t hit either of you, and you were still in the happy years of not being self-aware of your body or of others’. Even though summer hang-outs with his friends and yours weren’t so uncommon, you’d never gone to the pool together, and the fact that you’re now dating and you know he’ll be looking at you only adds to your nerves. 
All four boys are already in the water when you, Chaeyeong and Seeun arrive, and you notice with horror that they all quiet down and study the three of you as you approach and rid yourselves of your towels, setting them on a bench before heading into the water.
Boys.
It makes Chaeyeong giggle and Seeun roll her eyes, but your whole body is burning under Heeseung’s intense gaze. You watch as his eyes slowly make their way up your body as if trying to commit each inch of you to memory. When your eyes finally lock, a smirk grows on his lips as though he couldn’t care less that you caught him so unashamedly staring. At first, you look away with a huff, but his gaze doesn’t leave you as you and the girls wade into the water towards the boys, so you fix with him a pointed glare instead.
You do your best to ignore him as you all play around in the pool, racing each other to one end and back or trying to drown each other, but that’s hard to do when he seems so set on teasing you as much as he can. He sometimes switches victims and decides to terrorize his little sister or Jake instead, but you’re still his main target. You want to be mad at him, but he seems so excited and happy that you can’t bring yourself to actually scold him. You’ve never seen him so playful, and the way he laughs carefreely, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the edges, makes your heart swell with adoration for him. 
There aren’t that many other people in the pool, mostly kids from high school, who are hogging all the inflatable pool toys - but that doesn’t pose a problem for your group. “Let’s play chicken fight!” you hear Jake say at least four times before someone actually listens to him and agrees.
Someone calls out Jay’s name - you turn your head in the direction of the voice to find that it’s Jiung, whom you vaguely recognize as one of his friends from school. From his uniform, you assume that he’s on shift as the lifeguard. Jay swims towards him and they get into conversation, conveniently leaving six people to play Jake’s game.
This is how he pairs you up - you with Heeseung (of course), him with Chaeyeong and Sunghoon with Seeun. You notice the two of them sharing a small smile, and even though it’s quite dark, you’re pretty sure you notice their faces reddening. You glance at Chaeyeong, who’s already looking at you with a surprised expression - she saw it too. Jake is too excited to play chicken fight to pay anything else attention. He explains the rules, stricter than you’d expected and many of which seem completely made up by him, and announces who will play first. Clearly, Jake takes his chicken fighting very seriously.
You and Heeseung are first up against Seeun and Sunghoon. Heeseung lowers himself underwater so you can get onto shoulders, and you hold onto his head for dear life as he comes back up, loudly releasing the breath he’d been holding in. There’s something thrilling about being so close to Heeseung around the others that you can’t help but giggle for seemingly no reason. You even bend forwards, beaming down at him as you help him push his drenched hair out of his eyes. His eyes meet yours and you giggle together - for a second, it really feels like it’s just the two of you in the pool, but then Jake calls out for you to get ready and starts the countdown for the fight to start.
It’s a bit hard to concentrate on the game when Heeseung’s large hands hold tightly onto your bare thighs, but you do your best to will any impure thoughts away and focus on getting Seeun off of Sunghoon’s shoulders. You both laugh as you grab onto each other, trying to make the other fall while the boys splash each other with water. It’s a tense game that has Jake and Chaeyeong cheering from where they sit on the edge of the pool, and your balance is thrown off a couple times (when Seeun gets into a game, she stops at nothing to win), but Heeseung’s legs are strong and he’s always quick to steady you before you can fall over. 
A loud noise coming from the other kids in the pool momentarily catches your attention, but Seeun immediately pounces on you, not unlike a predator on its prey. With a yelp, you fall back into the water, bringing Heeseung down with you. When you come back to the surface, the sound of your opponents celebrating their victory is no more than a faint ring in your ears - the feeling of Heeseung wrapping his arm around your waist and the way he beams down at you, murmuring that you did a good job, make you forget about everything and everyone around you. Your gazes only stay locked like this for maybe two seconds, but you swear time stops for a bit.
Jake’s voice snaps you out of your daze, and you and Heeseung take his and Chaeyeong’s seats on the side of the pool while they get ready to challenge Seeun and Sunghoon. You’re relieved to find that you actually manage to hoist yourself up out of the water and onto the pool’s edge without making a fool of yourself in front of Heeseung. 
You want to watch the game peacefully and cheer on your friends, but Heeseung is making it a bit hard. He really, really doesn’t need to be sitting this close to you. He’s leaning back on his palms, toned stomach and chest on display, which is already attractive enough, but his right thigh is also pressed flush against your left one, so much so that you know it has to be intentional. Because he’s placed his right palm close behind you, you can feel his right arm against your lower back as well, and you’re almost tempted to lean back against it. 
You’re completely lost in thought, brain only focused on everywhere your body and Heeseung’s touch. It’s like he can see into your mind - he lightly pinches your hip, just underneath the string of your bikini bottoms, and you almost let out a loud gasp. But you manage to keep it down and sit up straight instead, looking at him over your shoulder like he just killed your entire family. He has the audacity to laugh. 
This man really has no shame, rendering you unable to think straight in front of everyone like this. Although, to be fair, it’s also partly your fault for reacting so much to such small things. 
“Hey guys,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and you turn your head to find Jiung and Jay walking towards you. There’s a chorus of hey Jiungs from the four in the water, but they quickly get their heads back in the game. Jay stays standing, watching his friends fight while Jiung crouches behind you and Heeseung.
“So are you guys finally together?” he asks excitedly, a genuine grin on his face, and both you and Heeseung choke on your own saliva. Did everyone know about your mutual crushes before you two did?!
You exchange a glance with Heeseung but quickly look away, suddenly finding great interest in Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s tactics to make each other fall over.
Heeseung’s eyes dart between your face and Jiung’s as he answers, as if scared he might say one wrong word and offend you in some way. “Um, yeah, we are. But we’re not really… telling people, I guess.”
Jiung gasps in delight, clasping Heeseung’s shoulder in what you guess is a congratulatory gesture. “Keeping it lowkey. Got it. Congrats, you guys. Jay told me about you, like, three years ago, and I’ve been weirdly invested ever since,” he admits honestly, and you try hard to fight back the grin threatening to spread on your lips. You’d never even spoken to Choi Jiung before.
From your peripheral, you can make out Heeseung turning his head to glare at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Jay,” he mumbles.
A loud splash catches everyone’s attention; Chaeyeong has fallen off of Jake’s shoulders, and the other two are celebrating their second win in a row. Your friend just laughs, getting her long hair out of her face, but Jake is practically fuming.
“You guys make a pretty good team, I guess,” he says, and even though it’s supposed to be a compliment, he really doesn’t sound happy about it. 
“We do, don’t we?” Sunghoon echoes, looking up at Seeun with a smile.
“We do,” she answers with a giggle.
A giggle.
Seeun didn’t giggle. Unless… 
You lock eyes with Chaeyeong. She looks just as surprised as you feel. You tilt your head towards the two lovebirds, who seem lost in their own world, Sunghoon jumping around in the water with Seeun still on his shoulders and laughing. Chaeyeong nods fervently, as if screaming, “I know, I’m seeing it too!”
Seeun didn’t giggle, unless she had a crush on someone. You very much remember the day in freshman year when her middle school crush Kim Sunwoo, a senior at the time, picked up her locker keys that she had dropped in the hallway. The way she turned around when he tapped on her shoulder, awestruck as he smiled, handing her her keys, was straight out of a movie. She blushed and giggled to herself about it for the next two weeks.
You turn to look at Heeseung, but he’s busy listening to Jake, Jay and Jiung as they come up with a strategy to make the victors lose next time around. You internally roll your eyes at their obliviousness, but at least now you know why Heeseung had never figured out you liked him back.
“C’mon Jiung, let’s go beat their arrogant asses,” Jay then prompts, making his friend chuckle and get into the water. They wade their way towards the others, and when Jiung gets on Jay’s shoulders, Seeun’s game face is back on. Your friend can be quite scary.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the pool, lifeguard boy?” Sunghoon taunts like a three-year-old, although you’re not sure that “lifeguard boy” is much of an insult. It’s generally accepted that lifeguards are pretty cool.
“Everyone left, dumbass,” Jiung answers plainly. “It’s just us.”
You all look around, and indeed, the high school kids are gone, which means you have the whole place to yourselves. 
Seeun looks back at Jiung with a smirk. “Good for you. At least those kids won’t see how much of a loser you are when we destroy you and Jay.”
Chaeyeong and Jake ‘ooh’ at her threat while you and Heeseung watch amusedly. You can’t help but think it isn’t that serious, but seeing your friends so into the game is quite fun.
“Bring it on!” Jiung exclaims, and neither team lets Jake count down before they start attacking each other. The poor guy tries to stop Seeun and Jiung from playing so dirty, reminding them that hair-pulling and armpit-tickling are forbidden, but the two really couldn’t care less, so he quickly gives up trying to make them abide by the rules.
Chaeyeong comes to sit next to you and nudges your shoulder with her own to get your attention. “What do you think’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon? It’s definitely new.”
You almost hear the boys’ necks crack as they whip their heads to look at you. “Something’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon?” they whisper-scream at the same time. You’re glad the topic subjects are too engrossed in their game to hear anything.
You chuckle at their reaction but Chaeyeong rolls her eyes. “Obviously. They’ve been acting like teenagers this whole evening.”
“They are teenagers,” Heeseung says with a slight frown as he watches his sister and his friend. “They’re eighteen and nineteen.”
Chaeyeong tuts. “That’s not important. Plus, you really don’t get to anything, Heeseung, when you’ve been going around fucking your sister’s best-”
Jake starts immediately howling of laughter, but all you want in that moment is to let yourself drown in the water and never have to face your friend ever again.
Heeseung’s eyes are wide and his hands are frantically shaking ‘no’ as incoherent protests spill out of his lips. “I- no- we haven’t, we’re not-” He sighs defeatedly when Jake just laughs harder and Chaeyeong joins in. 
She knows you guys haven’t done anything of that sort yet, you’ve been telling her - or rather she’s been making you tell her - everything that happens between you and Heeseung. She’s just teasing you, and it’s really working, and you hate her for it. You fix her with a glare that does nothing to make her laughter stop. When you look at Heeseung, his eyebrows have furrowed deeper, and a light blush has spread all over his face, ears and even his neck. With a small pout on his lips, he’s never looked more adorable. Nothing beats the sight of a flustered and slightly mad Heeseung.
His hands have returned to his lap, his right one fidgeting with the hem of his swim trunks. In a moment of boldness, you decide to take it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you smile at him - to be honest, you were also slightly amused by Chaeyeong’s words. She was right; he really couldn’t say anything about his sister liking one of his friends when he’d made out with you so often. 
You notice with satisfaction that he can’t keep eye contact and that the color on his face deepens.
You all turn back to the tense game in front of you, noting with surprise that Seeun actually seems to have the upper hand over Jiung. She must be a seasoned chicken fighter, because she loses neither her balance nor her grip on Jiung once. The older boy doesn’t even yelp when he falls into the water, as if he’d seen it coming. Beaming proudly, Seeun gets off of Sunghoon’s shoulders and the two share a quick celebratory hug before shaking their opponents’ hands. The four of them swim their way towards you and you all hang out for a while, letting the fighters regain their energy. 
“There’s something I’m not really supposed to do…” Jiung then says, and chuckles when he feels seven pairs of eyes watching him intently. “But I have the keys to the slides, and I know how to operate them.” Everyone cheers before he can even finish his sentence, and Jake and Chaeyeong are quick to get out of the water and run upstairs to the entrance of the slides. Jiung hurries to get the keys and follow them, the rest of you close behind.
Your heart starts beating loudly as soon as you place your foot on the first step. You try to ignore it - you’d never been a fan of attractions like big water slides or roller coasters, but you should get over it one day or another. Might as well try today.
That’s what you keep telling yourself, but once you’ve reached the slides and Jiung gets them running, the loud gush of water falling rapidly makes you feel like you’re going to faint. Seeun’s screams as she goes down, even though they’re from excitement, don’t help your lightheadedness. 
When Jake pushes himself down the slide, you clear your throat to speak. You hadn’t even realized how dry your throat had gotten, and the shakiness in your voice takes you aback. “Um, I think I’m gonna sit this one out, guys. I’m not feeling too well.”
Everyone turns to you with a worried expression, and from your peripheral, you notice Heeseung’s hand jolting up towards you, but he stops himself before he actually touches you.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t like slides,” Chaeyeong says with a pout.
“There’s nothing to be scared of! This is totally safe,” Jiung tries to reassure, but for some reason, his eagerness makes you even more doubtful.
“We can go together,” Heeseung suddenly offers. Judging from his expression, he seems surprised at his own words, as if he’d spoken out loud without realizing it. A chorus of agreement rises from the group, and Heeseung’s smile as he looks down at you makes you think that it might be okay to try - although you’re not sure if that’s because you want to get over your fear of slides, or if it’s because the idea of Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and keeping you safe is very alluring. 
“O-okay,” you answer, and his smile widens.
You wait until everyone except for Jiung has gone down. Heeseung stands behind you the whole time, a calming hand on your shoulder and the other playing with your drying hair, and his presence actually does wonders to soothe you. When it’s your turn, you sit down right at the top of the slide, trying not to freak out from the feeling of the gushes of water underneath your thighs. For once, Heeseung’s touch as he sits behind you, encaging your body between his legs and his arms, is reassuring rather than fatally heart-fluttering. Now you understand what people mean when they say they feel like nothing can hurt them as long as they’re in their lover’s arms.
“You ready?” Jiung calls out. You’re too nervous to make a peep, only able to nod, so Heeseung answers for you.
“We are.” Just before Jiung can give Heeseung a push, the boy behind you bends down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, okay?”
You hum back but the faint sound is drowned out by the noise around you as you’re whisked down the slide. It’s so loud and so fast that you’re sure you’d have been screaming like you were being murdered had Heeseung not been there to calm you down. The grip you have on his hands probably hurts, but he doesn’t complain, just laughs from the adrenaline the ride is giving him, and his calmness manages to make your heart stay calm.
You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut until he told you to open them. The previous flashing lights that had overwhelmed you even with your eyes closed were over, and when you blink your eyes open, you’re fascinated to find that there is no top over the slide, letting the stars shine down on you in all their glory. The feeling of the night breeze against your skin is surprisingly refreshing, and you actually let out a ‘wow,’ all of your previous anxiety slowly leaving your body. This time, when Heeseung giggles against your ear, you actually join him. 
Your friends are the sweetest, and when you reach the end of the slide and fall into the water, they’re all clapping and cheering for you as if you’d just come first place in a marathon. You discern a sort of inquisitive look on Seeun’s face as she looks at you and her brother, but you decide to not pay it too much attention and swim away from the slide for Jiung’s arrival.
“So? Wasn’t too bad, right?” Heeseung asks with a grin, his hand sneakily finding yours underwater.
“No, it was nice, actually. Doesn’t mean I’m going a second time, though,” you reply, and he chuckles. You force yourself to look away from his smiling face because you know how easily you can get lost in his gaze, and you’d rather not raise any more suspicion. You swim to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up out of the water so you can dry off a bit in the night air.
Jiung whoops his whole way down, and as soon as he comes back to the surface, he asks who wants to go again. Everyone except for you and Heeseung raise their hands. “You’re not going again?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
He’s still smiling, and you wished it was just the two of you so you could kiss that pretty smile right off his face. “No, one time was enough for me. I’ll stay here with you.”
This, of course, elicits an obnoxious chorus of ‘ooh’s from your friends. “O-kay,” Chaeyeong says in a singsong voice.
“We’ll leave you two to it, then,” Jake adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You hadn’t known you had such murderous tendencies in you until you met this boy.
When you catch Seeun’s gaze, she’s looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows. For a split second, you feel like you’re gonna crumble - she’s gonna figure it out, and she’ll hate you and never speak to you again, and- but then she smiles, just a tiny hint of a smile, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this might be fine after all.
You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding when she walks away with the others, but a second breath gets caught in your throat right away when Heeseung crosses his arms over your lap, and you realize it’s gonna be just you two for a little while now. It’s exactly what you had wished for not even a minute ago, but now that it’s actually happening, your heart starts beating wildly once again. 
“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you adore so much.
A grin breaks out on your face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly as your hand rakes through his dark locks. “Thank you,” you reply just as quietly. “I would never have done something like that on my own.”
He opens his eyes again. The way he looks at you makes you wonder what he sees in your eyes that has him so captivated. You just hope he can’t hear the loudness of your beating heart.
He presses himself closer to you, somewhat forcing your thighs open to accommodate his body in between them, and wraps his arms around your waist. Even if he can’t hear your heartbeat, he can surely hear your shaky intake of breath as he places a soft kiss to the top of your thigh before resting his cheek against it, closing his eyes like he’s planning on napping right there. Your fingers are still in his hair but your brain has stopped computing, so they stay immobile. You try to stay calm so as not to disturb the position Heeseung is in, but your stomach has never been so swarmed by butterflies as now. 
Somehow, this feeling is even scarier than going down the slide - maybe because you knew the slide would end at some point. This feels like it might consume you whole and stay with you for the rest of your life. The worst part is you don’t even know exactly what it is that you’re feeling. But it’s everywhere. It makes your fingertips sizzle with electricity, it makes your head almost ache, and it twists your insides all around, but it’s also weirdly pleasant.
It makes you want more.
You can’t believe one simple kiss on your thigh is making you react this way, but now that you’ve felt it, it’s as though you might die if you don’t get to have it over and over again; you already know that a second or a third time won’t be enough either.
“Heeseung?” you call, his name coming out like a question, and his head whips up so quickly you think he might have been waiting for you to say something.
“Yeah?” he replies, something that sounds like anticipation making his voice come out as a whisper. 
You weren’t even completely sure what it was you wanted to say, but the way Heeseung looks up at you eradicates any train of thought you’d had. It’s a different type of gaze than before, something you’d only gotten glimpses of during particularly heated make-out sessions but that Heeseung had always seemed to reign in. Hooded eyes that are darker than usual, that seem to be in some sort of a daze, giving the impression that he isn’t quite thinking straight. You’re sure you’ve also had that look in your eyes more than once, when Heeseung’s hand brushed along a particularly sensitive spot on your back or when he absent-mindedly thrusted his hips against yours as you straddled his lap in the backseat, making you moan into his mouth as he hurriedly apologized for getting carried away. You didn’t know how to tell him you were ready for whatever it was he wanted, so you always shushed him with an “it’s okay” and resumed kissing him feverishly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t press yourself down against his bulge - that neither of you mentioned, but both knew was there - just to get a reaction out of him once in a while, and to get that fire-like feeling in your belly you were starting to crave more and more.
You try to push those far-from-innocent thoughts away from your mind and come up with something to say, but then someone disturbs your peace. Indeed, you hear Jake before you see him. “Heeseung and Y/N, you better not be smooching when I get there!”
Heeseung sighs deeply, a real, pained, frustrated sigh, and you’re glad you’re not the only one going crazy because of your friends. It’s like everyone has forgotten that you and Heeseung are supposed to be a secret. Reluctantly, he detaches himself from you and makes his way next to you, body still in the water but forearms resting on the ground next to the pool.
Another hour or so passes before stomachs start growling from too much fooling around in the water and you all agree to go home. Sadly, there’s nothing open so late in the night in your town, and none of you can be asked to drive all the way to the nearest city for food. On the whole drive home, Chaeyeong bombards Seeun with questions about Sunghoon. Seeun tries to avoid it at first, looking out the window to hide her growing blush, but once the two girls are similar in that once they have set their mind on something, you know they’ll get it. It only takes two minutes of arguing for Seeun to start spilling. 
“Well… I’ve known him for a really long time, right? Him and Jay became friends right away, just like the three of us did. I’ve always associated him with Heeseung, so I never thought of him that way…”
“What way?” Chaeyeong cuts in, although she knows exactly what Seeun means.
“Like- like more than a friend,” Seeun explains, voice getting quieter the more she speaks. Chaeyeong squeals in excitement and you chuckle.
“So what happened?” Chaeyeong prompts, and you almost want to remind her to focus on the road. You don’t need to get into a car accident over Seeun’s love life.
Seeun sighs like she’s exasperated by Chaeyeong, but you catch her small smile in the rearview mirror and you know she’s actually happy to be talking about this with you guys. “So, you know that movie night we had?” she starts, waiting for the two of you to nod. You try not to think about what you did on that movie night. “Well, we were sitting next to each other, which usually would’ve been totally fine, right, but for some reason, it made me feel super nervous that night. Like I was hyper-aware of his presence next to me. I could actually smell him, and oh my God, he smells so good, I don’t know how I’d never realized that-”
You and Chaeyeong burst into laughter at that, and Seeun can’t help but join in. “Smelling good is definitely attractive,” you chime in, thinking about how intoxicating it is to have your nose buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck and get a whiff of his scent.
“And, like, I’ve always known Sunghoon was handsome, right, I’m not blind, but I swear I never felt a particular type of way about him before then, just ‘cause I always saw him as one of my loser brother’s loser friends,” she says, and you make a mental note to repeat that to Heeseung later, “And at first I thought I was going crazy, that I was just feeling that way ‘cause we were sitting so close together in a dark room and everything, but then our knees touched, and I was like, ‘okay, I shouldn’t be losing my shit just ‘cause our knees touched,’ but I was losing my shit-”
She’s retelling the story in such a dramatic, un-Seeun-like and very Chaeyeong-like way that you can’t stop laughing, your stomach almost starting to hurt. “Which is why I went to bed during the second movie. And after that, I was thinking about him so much it was so weird, and I thought I was doomed ‘cause I didn’t wanna have a crush on my brother’s best friend, right?” she says, and Chaeyeong’s and your eyes meet for a second in the mirror. “But then you know that fair thing they had in town last week? You guys wouldn’t volunteer with me, but he was volunteering too, so we spent, like, three days in a row together, and it was really, really fun. We would spend the whole day together, eat together, even hang out afterwards and everything. And then we started texting, and today was the first time we saw each other again since then, actually…” She takes a deep breath there and laughs, as if relieved to have finally let it all out. 
“This is amazing news. Absolutely fantastic news,” Chaeyeong beams. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”
“I really wanted to but I was scared I was making up a bunch of stuff in my mind and he still saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s sister. If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately, but I don’t know, I was already trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was starting to like this guy I’ve known my whole life, so I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately. You know that feeling all too well. It makes you think that you should just go ahead and tell Seeun about you and Heeseung, but after years of conditioning yourself that she could never find out about your crush on her brother, and now that you’re dating him, it’s not easy to just come out with it.
Your attention had drifted away from the conversation for a bit but you tune back in when Chaeyeong mentions college. “Plus, he goes to our state university, right? Just like us! That means you guys don’t have to worry about long distance, same for Heeseung and Y/N-” Chaeyeong’s eyes widen immediately when she realizes what she did. 
“Heeseung and Y/N?” Seeun echoes, searching for your face in the rearview mirror.
Once more, you can thank your friend’s impeccable bullshitting abilities. “Oh, no, I just meant that even though she’s going to a different college than us, she’ll still know someone there. Not that they wouldn’t have to worry about long distance like you and Sunghoon.”
“Right,” Seeun answers, eyes still fixated on you in the mirror. An uncomfortable beat passes before she speaks again. “But is there… is there something happening between you and Heeseung, Y/N?”
You’d seen the question coming, but it still somehow manages to punch you in the stomach. Before you can even think of a way to tell your friend the truth in the most delicate way possible, your reflexes and old habits kick in. “No,” you simply reply, the lie coming to you way too easily. You hope she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice - you’re definitely not as good a liar as Chaeyeong. “I mean, we’ve gotten closer this summer, but that’s about it.” 
Chaeyeong stays silent, her eyes on the road. You’re less than a minute away from Seeun’s house, but you wish you could just get there already and have this conversation be over.
“Okay, if you say so,” she says, not sounding fully convinced. “But, you know, if there was, I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be mad. A little weirded out, maybe, but not mad.” She’s looking at you so intently as she says this that you think she must know, otherwise she wouldn’t be saying all this. It’s like she’s asking you to just tell her, but still, you can’t bring yourself to do it. As if you’ve dug your own grave and have to lie in it.
Heeseung’s car is already in the driveway when you reach the Lees’ house, and he must have already gone up to his room because he isn’t in the kitchen or in the living room. You feel a slight pang of disappointment in your heart at the thought of not seeing him again tonight, even though it’s already so late, but you have a feeling you’ll stay up for hours thinking about his warm hands and his lips.
“Shower then food?” Seeun proposes when you’re all done taking your shoes off. You all nod and head up to her room. Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung. Then another, and another, and the sound piques your friends’ interest. 
“Who’s spamming you?” Chaeyeong asks, but she figures it out as soon as she sees the lovestruck smile on your face.
“Oh, just a groupchat I’m in,” you reply without looking up from your phone.
hee: Can you drop by my room? hee: Find an excuse to leave and come and see me :D hee: I want to see you. hee: Oh sorry about the period I know you don’t like that hee: I want to see you <;3 hee: !!!!!!!!! hee: Please you: be there in a min hee you: i wanna see u too hee: K hee: :DDD
“Y/N, you wanna go first?” Seeun asks, snapping you out of it.
“Huh?”
“The shower. You wanna go first?” she repeats, amused by your sudden weird behavior.
“Oh, actually, um, I remembered my mom wanted to go to the farmers’ market at, like, nine tomorrow, so I should probably just sleep at home,” you say, which is actually true. You’ve never been so thankful for your mom’s love of organic and local produce. Thankfully, your friends also know about it, so they don’t question it at all and just wish you a good night.
Little do they know that you’re actually headed straight for Heeseung’s bedroom rather than your own. Normally, your paranoid brain would tell you that your friends, especially Seeun, might question why they didn’t hear the sound of the front door closing, but you doubt they’ll actually be paying attention to it.
You make a beeline for Heeseung’s room, not wanting to be caught by one of the girls as they go to the bathroom. Heeseung seems to be waiting for you, because you’ve barely knocked on his door and he’s already taking your hand, pulling you into his room.
It’s the first time you’ve been here since you were a kid, and you’re sure there’s many things on the walls and shelves to pick Heeseung’s brain about, any and every piece of himself interesting to you, but there’s one thing that stands out to you; it’s just the two of you in here. It makes your heart skip a beat in anticipation.
“Where’s Jake?”
Heeseung smiles shyly and looks down at your question. “I sort of, um, kicked him out.” You whip your head towards him at his words, looking at him with wide eyes. He chuckles. “I made him sleep over at Jay’s house. I really wanted to sneak you in here tonight.”
And just to make sure you really understand what he means by that, he fixes you with a look that can’t be misinterpreted. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches you, his smirk growing when he sees the obvious effect it has on you. He places his hands on your hips and he’s close enough for you to see how dilated his pupils are. He almost looks hungry, like he could just eat you whole, and it makes you weak in the knees. Heat rises to your face when you think about what must be going on in his head, especially since it’s probably not far from the thoughts that have been plaguing you for a while now. Unconsciously, you bring your legs closer together, and the way his eyes dip down then back up to your face with an arch of his brow like he knows what you’re thinking drives you slightly insane.
You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until he tilts his head at you, an amused expression on his face. “What is it, doll?” he asks, but his tone makes you inclined to think he knows exactly what it is.
You also know, but you don’t know how to put it into words. So, instead, you take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He smells like chlorine and something that’s entirely his, and you swear you’ve never smelled anything so intoxicating in your life. “Heeseung,” you murmur, voice muffled as your lips move against his skin.
“Yes?” he answers in that same amused, knowing tone. Your clear-mindedness starts to slip away from you as it often does when you’re near him.
When you repeat his name, this time more whiny as you wrap your arms tighter and bury your face deeper, he chuckles softly, a low, deep sound that sends electrifying shivers right down your spine. He places both hands on the sides of your face to make you lean back and look up at him. He can’t help but chuckle again at the pout on your lips, although your slightly hooded eyes make his stomach twist into the familiar tight knot of desire.
“I was gonna take a shower, if you’d like to join me,” he says, a glint of mischief playing in his eyes, and your own widening immediately at his words, or rather at the meaning behind them.
“A shower?!” you whisper-yell back. 
He just laughs again and nods. “Mh-hm. We can keep our swimsuits on.” He looks down at you, at your eyes that are still wide, but now more out of anticipation than shock, at the way they seem to search for reassurance in his own. You seem to find what you’re looking for, because you nod.
“We just have to wait until Seeun and Chaeyeong are done, okay? I told Seeun to text me when the bathroom’s free.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then bends down to close the distance between the two of you, just as he’s done many times before, by pressing his lips to yours. He wants to tell you that he’s fine with whatever you want to do; that you can go as fast or as slow as you want; that no matter what, he’ll always be there to hold you and kiss you and call you pretty.
But he’s not the best with words, so he opts for kissing you gently instead, probably the slowest kiss you’ve ever shared, as if he's scared you might suddenly run away from him and he'll lose your warmth.
He’s never been as relieved as when he feels you not only reciprocating the kiss, but deepening it, asking for more when you start to whine into his mouth and slightly claw at his back. It takes everything in him to pull away from you, but there’s more comfortable ways to make out, including ones that don’t involve you bending your neck backwards trying to reach his lips, so he tugs at your hand for you to follow him. “C’mere,” he says, leading you to his bed. He sits on the edge, and, with a smile you can only describe as devilish, pats his lap for you to straddle. 
You oblige immediately, of course, and even though you’ve done this many times before, it feels like the backseat of his car and his bed are worlds apart. It feels charged with an intimacy you two haven’t quite shared before, like you’re finally letting go of everything that might’ve been holding you back before and you’re now ready to take a step further together. 
At least, that’s how you feel, but if the way he sighs into your mouth as soon as you press your lips to his, and the way his hands roam your back like trying not to leave an inch of your body untouched are anything to go by, then it seems like he feels the same way.
There’s a desperation to the kiss that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire. Your hands quickly make their way to what seems their favorite place, Heeseung’s hair, and your fingers rake through it, gripping at the strands like you might float into space if you let go of him. His hands slowly make their way down your back until they reach your ass, sneaking underneath your loose shorts to grab at the skin underneath. He brings you closer to him, pressing you down onto his bulge, and it hits such a sweet spot between your thighs that you can’t fight back against the moan that makes its way out of your lips.
Heeseung is quick to shush you, and for some reason, it only makes the fire in your belly burn harder. “Shh, you have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” He continues to guide your movements against him, rubbing over that spot over and over again. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, and you know you can’t answer him, because if a sound comes out of mouth, it’ll be a moan, and not words.
But Heeseung isn’t happy with that. “Hm? I asked you a question, Y/N.”
What he is happy with is the whimper you let out at his words. “Y-yes, I’ll be quiet,” you breathe out like even saying a few words is too complicated for you.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and even though you were already a mess before, these are the words that really do you in. With a small whine, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and bury your face where his jawline meets his ear, hoping that any sound coming from your mouth will be muffled there. You know there’s no point trying to kiss him right now; you won’t be able to focus on that and grind on him at the same time. 
Truth be told, Heeseung has little to no idea what he’s doing. He’s never gotten this far with anyone before, and now that he’s assumed a more dominant position, since that’s what he’d gathered you’d like from your backseat sessions, he’s scared he might have made this a lot harder for him. He wants to do his best for you and guide you through what he knows are your first sexual or even romantic experiences, but the thing is, this is also the first time for him. It’s the first time he’s had this intense, almost ravaging craving to go further with someone, to touch and be touched and just cherish every single inch of someone’s body. 
All he knows about sex, he’s gathered from porn, conversations with his guy friends, and Yunjin’s “spicy” romance novels. He has enough critical thinking skills to know that none of these are a hundred percent reliable sources, but he figured that the novels would be the closest to what women actually like.
He’d been scared sex and everything around it would be the most complicated puzzle he’d have to put together in his life. But in reality, he’s been relieved to find everything has come fairly easily. He just has to pay attention to the things you like; you like it when he takes the lead, so he does; you like it when he compliments you, so he does; you like it when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, so he does. He knows there’s still many things you like that he hasn’t found out about, but he’s more than eager to learn about each and every one of them. Apparently, you really like whatever it is the two of you are doing right now, so much so that he can feel your legs start to shake and can hear you containing your moans, so he keeps on doing it.
As for him? Well, he likes you. His biggest turn-on is seeing you turned on. Seeing your swollen lips and heavy eyelids after a make-out session, hearing your small moans and heavy breathing, feeling you rest your body against his and letting him make you feel good, like you’re doing right now, that’s what gets him going. He’s always so focused on your pleasure that he could almost forget about his own. So, it’s only when you announce through broken moans that you think you’re gonna cum that he realizes he’s dangerously close to finishing too. “That’s okay, baby, cum for me,” he coos, and that’s all you need to come undone.
He really wants to keep it in, really doesn’t want to jizz inside his pants like a highschooler, but it’s to no avail. In his defense, it’s really, really hard not to when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it and when his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, is the only thing you can say as you cum against him. It’s something right out of a young Heeseung wet dream, and now that present-day Heeseung is actually experiencing it, he can say with pride that this is much better than a dream.
You both take a few seconds to come down from your highs, the first that you’ve shared together. It feels surreal. When you find the strength to lift your head and face Heeseung again, the look on his face is so hot, you think you might cum again from the sight alone. Hair sticking to his forehead, already-plump lips completely red, wet and swollen and curled up into a small smile. You press your foreheads together and laugh for no reason other than you couldn’t get happier than this. Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you kiss him again. You’re only eighteen, but you don’t think life gets much better than this.
Then Heeseung’s phone dings with a text from Seeun: bathroom’s free. Heeseung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Wanna go get cleaned up?”
You giggle at his renewed eagerness and nod, letting him take your hand and guide you stealthily to the bathroom he and Seeun share. Thank God for locks.
Once inside, he lets go of your hand and turns on the mirror light rather than the bright, harsh overhead one, giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere. There’s a neck-scratching moment where neither you or Heeseung know what to do, your eyes darting nervously around the room, but it passes by when Heeseung turns around, quickly strips down to his swimming trunks once more and gets into the shower. He has his back next to you when he turns it on and finds his desired temperature, but he leaves the shower door open for you - you know he’s waiting for you to get in with him, but you’re stuck in place as you watch the water fall rapidly down his back and his muscles slightly shift out of relaxation. 
You’d seen him half-naked and wet just an hour ago, and it’d already messed with your head, but this was so much worse. Maybe it was the heat slowly rising in the room, maybe it was the fact that you could join him at any moment and get to touch him, whatever it was, it was making it hard to breathe. You practically choke when he turns back around, facing you and smiling when he realizes you haven’t moved an inch. 
“You’re not coming?” he asks quietly, and you know you can’t just stand and stare forever - you’ve done too much of that already. Your heart beats like crazy as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, then rid yourself of your shorts, because although he’d already seen you in your swimsuit, it’s nerve-wracking to undress right when you know he’s watching.
His smile hasn’t left his face when you step in and close the shower door, and he’s looking at you so intently that you have to focus on something other than his eyes, so you settle on his collarbones. Everything about him is pretty, you realize. 
You suck in a breath when he places one of his hands on your waist, then the other, and makes you get under the water with him. It’s the perfect temperature for you, not too hot that it burns but just enough to make your skin tingle, and you wonder how many more of these small things you have in common. 
“Y/N…” he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the shower. You finally dare to meet his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he asks with a smile, and just like that, you have to look away again, resting your forehead against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from him. Receiving a compliment from Heeseung is one thing, being in the shower with him is another; both happening at the same time is too much for you to handle. Somehow cumming in his lap wasn’t enough to rid you completely of your shyness around him. He chuckles at your reaction and wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand caresses up and down your back. 
“You have,” you manage to reply even though his touch is close to making your mind go blank.
“Well, let me say it again.” He bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear, lips tickling it when he speaks next. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
His words paired with his low voice make your core throb. You try not to gulp when he stands back up to his full height and smirks down at you - even though it’s impossible that he’s grown any taller in the last hour, it still feels like he towers over you much more than before. 
He doesn’t say anything more, your reaction apparently enough to satisfy him, and he reaches behind you for the body wash. He squeezes a dollop of it into his palm, and you think he’ll clean himself up, so you let out a small ‘oh’ of surprise when his hands touch the area above your chest, then start to spread the gel all over your arms, back and stomach. You watch as he lowers himself to lather your legs in the product as well, and you’re not sure why the sight of Heeseung looking up at you from this position makes your heart flutter so much. The illusion is slightly broken, though, when he decides to press a kiss to your stomach but immediately regrets it. “Soap,” he simply says before rinsing his lips with the shower water.
You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so cute sometimes, you know that?” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth naturally, and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. When you lean back, Heeseung is staring right at you, stunned.
“I’m the one who does that,” he says, a light tone of protest to his voice.
“Does what?”
“Compliments you then kisses you,” he answers with a pout, but it only makes you laugh more.
You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself flush against him and letting the water fall on top of your bodies. Before you can even comprehend the thought forming in your head at that moment, your lips betray you and words fall out of them against your will. “God, I love you so much.”
In the split second after you’ve said that, the realization hits you and your whole body stiffens. Slowly, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you lean back to see Heeseung’s reaction. He looks down at you in a mix of shock and pure, unfiltered happiness, eyebrows raised high but his smile reaches his ears. “You love me, huh?”
“Heeseung, I-”
“Good, because I love you too, Y/N.”
All the dread you felt rushes out of your body and is immediately replaced with relief. In the minute you’d realized you actually loved Heeseung and didn’t just have a big fat crush on him, you had the reassurance that he loved you, too. Life really can’t get any better than this.
Your lips find each other like second nature, but kissing is hard when you’re both so high on your confessions that you can’t stop giggling. You feel your whole body melt for him when he starts peppering kisses all over your face, saying “I love you” in between each peck. 
You take his face in your hands to steady his head and kiss him on the lips, a deep, firm kiss that has him wrapping his arms tightly around you and bringing you close to him. It’s like a switch flips inside of him, and all his playfulness transforms into intensity, and suddenly all he can think about is your lips on his and your body against his. You try not to gulp at the feeling of his growing hardness pressed against your stomach. What you’d done on the bed earlier had opened up a whole new world of sensation for the both of you to discover, and you found that you were already craving it again. 
There’s not much to be said in a situation like this; you both know what the other is thinking, it’s just a matter of who will act first. Usually, you’d rely on Heeseung to make the first move, or you’d do it yourself if you were feeling impatient; but right now, he seems to be enjoying making you squirm and taking his sweet time, hands roaming your back like he doesn’t know you’re desperate for more.
So you do what you’re usually too shy to do, and ask for what you want directly. “Heeseung, please,” you plead quietly against his lips, eyes shut tight as if in pain.
You can feel the smile that grows on his lips at your words. “Please, what?”
You take a shaky breath in and press wet kisses along his jawline before you answer. “Make me feel good, please.”
“Anything you want, doll.” 
You can feel the blood pumping through your veins as you wait for whatever Heeseung will do next, but for some reason, he’s decided not to do anything in a hurry. He slows the kiss down as his fingers trail up and down your sides at snail’s pace, and you have half a mind to just tell him to hurry up already, but there’s something delicious about being on edge like this, desperately waiting for your release.
One of his hands then makes its way to your back, finding the string of your bikini top and playing with it. “Can I take this off?” he asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. As soon as you nod, he unties it and pulls the fabric away from your body, letting it drop at his feet and leaving your upper body completely naked for him. Your cheeks blaze under his fascinated eyes, but in that moment, his gaze really does make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.
His other hand that had patiently rested on your waist makes its way up your front until it reaches your breasts. 
You hadn’t even known your nipples were this sensitive until his palm brushes against one of them, making your body jolt of its own accord. Heeseung seems to like that reaction, so he starts playing with it more, twisting it lightly between his fingers, eliciting moans from you (that you try to keep down, still conscious of the fact that anyone in the house might hear you if you were too loud) and making your back arch involuntarily. 
As his hand drifts to your other breast to pay your other nipple some well-deserved attention, you decide that Heeseung deserves as much attention as he’s giving you right now. Slowly, almost innocently, your hand snakes its way down his chest and abs to his trunks. You palm him over the fabric, hoping it makes him feel as good as his hand on your breast makes you feel. As his ministrations continue, your breathing gets shallower and shallower, but you’re glad to be having a similar effect on him - he rests his forehead against yours as a breathy moan escapes his lips, and you know you’re not doing as bad a job as you think you might be. 
“Y/N,” he breathes out after a minute of this. You hum. “I think my self-control is starting to wear out,” he says, voice shaky as his hand makes its way down your side. His touch burns more than the scorching shower water.
“Good,” you simply reply, and press your lips to his. You can let go is what you’re trying to convey through your kiss as it turns hungrier, needier, more impatient. 
Apparently he gets the message, because he’s quick to push you against the shower wall, left hand behind your head and the other holding on tight to your hip. He presses himself against you, letting you know just how much he wants you, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. This seems to spur him on - so slowly it hurts, his hand makes its way from your hips to the front of your panties. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that you feel like you might come undone right away when he’s barely even touched you.
You let out an involuntary moan when he presses his palm against your clothed sex, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss. He continues such ministrations for a bit, unhurriedly rubbing two fingers up and down your core. If he’s going slow so as not to overwhelm you, it doesn't work - you can already feel a familiar knot twisting in your stomach. You can’t even kiss him back anymore, too caught up in the feeling of his hand touching you exactly where you need him, so he settles on kissing your face and your neck. 
You swear a little bit of your soul actually leaves your body when he slips his hand underneath your bikini. He trails two fingers up along your slit, watching your face intently in the hopes that your reaction will tell him when he’s found your sensitive spot. You’ve never felt anything other than your own fingers there, and the sensation is breathtaking, especially when he starts rubbing small circles right onto your clit.
“Let me know if it feels good, okay? I’ve never actually done this before,” he admits with a small chuckle. Your eyes shoot open and you grab onto his forearm, making him halt his motions as panic bubbles inside him. “What? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’ve never done this before?” you echo his words back at him like there’s no way they might be true.
He smiles shyly and looks away, an odd mix of shame and pride at your reaction. “No, I haven’t.”
“Wow,” you breathe out, disbelieving. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing, this whole time, I thought you were like, a sex expert or something.” 
He laughs again and quickly resumes his previous actions, and any surprise you might have felt at his confession is thrown out the window when his fingers move against your clit again. “I promise you I’m making it up as I go.”
“You’re amazing,” you reply.
You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, Heeseung’s fingers going at the perfect speed and putting the exact right amount of your pressure against you like he’s done this his whole life. “Am I making you feel good?” he asks, a rhetorical question that he has to know the answer to considering your body’s reaction to him, but you still do him the favor of answering. 
“You are. Feels so, so good, Hee,” you sigh as his fingers leave your clit and start to tease at your entrance. Heeseung sighs, too, but more out of exasperation than out of pleasure.
“Let’s get rid of this, hm?” he offers, already pulling your swimming bottoms down your legs and discarding them next to your top. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, and before you know it, he’s pushed a finger inside you, and you let out the loudest moan you have all night at the feeling.
Heeseung chuckles as he shushes you gently. “Quiet, baby, okay? I know it feels good, but we don’t want to wake anyone up, now, do we?”
You shake your head fervently at his words, but in a twisted way, you care more about your current pleasure than about anyone catching you and Heeseung in the middle of the act. He curls his finger inside you, brushing right against that spot that has you seeing stars, and you let your body grow heavy, trusting him to hold you up when your legs stop working. As if one wasn’t enough, he adds a second finger, thrusting them inside you at an increasing pace that has your thighs shaking sooner than you’d like to admit.
“H-heeseung, oh my God,” you murmur, and that’s somehow enough for Heeseung to understand.
“Gonna cum, doll?”
You barely manage to answer him, your second high of the night approaching faster than you expect it to. Fingers still inside you, Heeseung brings his thumb to rub against your clit again, and five seconds later, you’re cumming all over his hands, body shaking against him and holding onto him throughout it all. You try to be as quiet as possible, and Heeseung presses his lips against yours to stifle any sound, but a few whimpers and broken moans still escape your lips.
When he’s slipped his fingers out of you, you hug him tightly, taking a few seconds to regain your breath as you come down from your high. “You did so well, baby,” Heeseung praises, lips moving against your temple before he presses a kiss there, and his words alone make you whine again. 
As soon as your sanity has somehow made its way back into your head, you remember your boyfriend’s pleasure and you press your hand against his bulge once more. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to rub your hand up and down his shaft over his swimming trunks. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 
“I want to,” you reassure, dipping your fingers under the waistband of his trunks so he gets the message. When he takes them off, his fully hard dick slaps against his stomach, and even though you haven’t seen a great amount of dicks in your life, you recognize a big dick when you see one.
It’s always the nerdy, lanky ones.
As you take him in your hand, you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it feels good, yeah?”
He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his eyes stay closed. “It already feels better than anything you could imagine, baby.”
“But I’m not doing anything,” you say, slightly confused.
“Still.”
You chuckle, and Heeseung almost joins in, but any laughter is ripped from his throat as your hand, formed in a fist loosely gripping him, makes its way down his shaft, then back up. It’s a clumsy motion, and he can tell you’re doing this for the first time, but it drives him crazy anyway. The sole fact that it’s you touching him is enough to turn him into a whimpering mess. 
He has to keep himself from moaning loudly and waking up the whole house when your palm brushes against his tip, but thankfully, you notice his reaction right away. As you continue jerking him off, you make sure to pay particular attention to his tip, sweeping your thumb over it every time your hand reaches it. Fascinated, you watch the rise and fall of Heeseung’s chest, the clench of his abs, and the way his beautiful pink lips part, and listen intently to any sound that might come out of them. He’s much less chatty than before, and you can’t help but ask for reassurance from him. “Does it feel good, Hee?”
The worried tone in your voice makes his eyes flicker open. “Of course, baby. Feels amazing,” he answers with a breathless chuckle. You beam at him, and the contrast between your innocent, happy expression and the motions of your hand actually makes him see double until he closes his eyes again.
You press yourself closer to him so you can leave kisses all over his neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s apple that you know is sensitive. You’re so close that you can feel your own hand against your stomach as you fist it up and down his shaft, slowly picking up speed. You bite down against his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but definitely hard enough to garner a moan from him, and he can feel his orgasm is mere moments away by now.
“Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you so much, Hee,” you say, your voice almost a moan, and that’s what drives him over the edge. Knowing that you love him.
He spills his seed all over your hand and stomach with a choked moan and finds your lips to trap them in a feverish kiss. Just like before, the immediate reaction for the both of you is to laugh; coming down from your high and helping the other reach theirs make you feel like you’re on top of the world. You help rinse each other and you spend another five minutes shampooing the other’s hair to get the chlorine out of it, but after that, you’re out of the shower, realizing that your hands and feet have started pruning after what could have been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in the shower.
No matter how many times you tell him you can do it yourself, Heeseung insists on helping you dry off, making sure there’s not a droplet of water on your body before you head back to his room together, just as stealthily as you’d come earlier. You really hoped the sound of the shower was enough to cover any sound you made and that everyone was sleeping too deeply to realize how much time you’d spent in there anyway.
Heeseung quickly puts on clean underwear before getting into bed, then watches you with a lazy smile as you put your panties, shorts and tank top back on. “What are you staring at?” you grumble because even after everything, his intent stare makes you shy.
“You.”
You should have expected it, but it still makes your heart flutter. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not bothering to hide your grin as you get into bed with him, snuggling up to him and sighing in contentment at the feeling of his warmth against you. You’d daydreamed one too many times dreaming about what it must feel like falling asleep next to Heeseung, or even better, in his arms, and it was finally happening. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat while his fingers rake through your hair in a soothing manner. 
“I’m spent,” you murmur against his skin. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep in two seconds.”
“Me too,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nuzzling yourself closer against him and letting sleep wash over your tired body.
--
You wish you could say that you wake up the next morning because of the sunlight pouring on your face or because of Heeseung peppering your face with kisses and awaking you, but really, it’s just your 8 a.m. alarm reminding you you have to go to the market with your mom. The sound jolts you awake, like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over you. You and Heeseung have somehow barely budged from the position you fell asleep in and you want nothing more than to stay there for a couple more hours, but a promise is a promise, so with a sigh, you start to sit up. 
When Heeseung feels your body shift away from his, his arm tightens its hold around your waist almost out of its own accord, pulling you back to him. “Just five more minutes,” he pleads, voice slightly whiny and still dripping with sleep that makes butterflies erupt all over your stomach. You give in immediately.
“Just five,” you repeat, and he hums in satisfaction.
But five turns into ten turns into twenty, and when your alarm rings again, it’s already thirty past eight, and you only have fifteen minutes to go home and get ready before your mom will want to leave. 
You sigh and, once again, start to pry your limbs away from Heeseung’s, but, once again, he stops you before you can get off the bed, hand coming to grab your wrist gently. You sit up and smile affectionately down at him, brushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes during the night. He blinks his eyes open but can only look at you for a few seconds before he shuts them again, trying to hide his flustered expression under his forearm, but you can still make out his smile and the growing blush on his cheeks.
“What?” you ask quietly in the silence of the room, chuckling at your boyfriend’s cuteness.
“I just remembered last night,” he says, letting his forearm fall away from his face so he can see your reaction.
Your smile grows and you continue to play with his hair as images of last night flood your mind, a sort of fluster enveloping your whole body and making you feel light. You bend over to press soft kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and then to his lips before burying your face in the crook of his neck. His hand comes up naturally to your back, slipping under the thin fabric to graze his fingernails across your exposed skin.
“Last night was amazing, Hee. Thank you so much,” you whisper, trying not to get carried away by the feeling of his caresses.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and burying his nose there to inhale the scent of your hair. 
You count down from ten, and on zero, you sigh, pushing yourself from Heeseung for good this time. “Okay, I really have to go now.” He sits up with you, fixing you with a pout, but you won’t let him use his cuteness against you and trick you into staying. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll walk you downstairs.” When he sees you about to protest, he puts on his best smile, akin to one that an athlete would wear after winning first place. “I wanna kiss you goodbye.” 
You roll your eyes but your smile makes it obvious how delighted you are that he wants to be with you ‘til the very last second. You gather your stuff and head into the hallway. You know his parents are already at work, and even though Chaeyeong and Seeun usually sleep in until much later than now, you still want to make sure they’re asleep. You gesture at Heeseung to be quiet as you peer inside Seeun’s room quickly and quietly - if they wake up, you can just say you forgot something yesterday and came back to get it quickly, and if they don’t, you’re pretty safe to escape without getting caught.
When they don’t budge an inch, you close her door again and head down the stairs to the entrance where your shoes lay. You check your phone and realize with dread that your mom’s not going to be very happy with you, but you don’t have it in you to push Heeseung away when he insists on helping you into your shoes (they’re slip-ons) and when he wraps his arm around your middle, bringing you in for another kiss. You let yourself melt under his touch - it’s not like thirty seconds will make much of a difference now that you’re already late anyway.
“You do know that if we’re caught kissing here, we’re dead?” you breathe, pulling away slightly from Heeseung to speak. You’re still so close that you feel his lips move against yours as they curl up into a smirk.
“I know, but I wanna risk it.” And just like that, his lips are back on yours, and all other thoughts are blown away like feathers in the wind.
It’s almost dangerous how you can’t think of anything else when you’re this close to Heeseung. How his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin and his hair under your hands fill your mind up to the brim. It’s dangerous because it’s precisely in moments like these that you should think before you act, before you let yourself be consumed by him. And it’s moments like these that you look back on later and curse yourself for being so foolish.
“Heeseung? Y/N?”
Alarm fills your body as soon as you hear Seeun’s shaky voice calling out your names. She looks down at you from the stairwell, shock evident on her face and her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Your hands let go of Heeseung’s t-shirt and your arms fall limp at your sides, but other than that, you’re frozen in place. You watch as Seeun’s eyes dart between you and Heeseung and as she realizes that you’ve been hiding something big from her; that you even lied straight to her face. 
It’s only when a sob escapes her lips and she whips around, heading back upstairs to her room, that you snap out of it. You immediately go to follow her, but Heeseung calls out your name as his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look down at where your bodies touch, and your gazes lock just as the sound Seeun’s door slamming shut reverberates through the house.
“I have to talk to her,” you whisper as you wrench your wrist away from Heeseung’s hold. 
You walk away and leave him behind.
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926 notes · View notes
words-4u · 1 year
Text
right person (1/3)
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pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)
wc: 1.4k
a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)
warning: swearing
part 2 / part 3
"denmark?"
"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.
"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.
you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.
you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.
he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."
"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.
"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"
"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"
"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."
"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.
after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.
it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.
"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.
"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"
"i appreciate it."
chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."
you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."
marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.
the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.
"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.
"waay cleaner," you agree.
the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.
you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."
marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.
"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.
"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.
after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.
marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.
"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"
marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."
you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.
"sick," he smiles.
"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"night, y/n!"
you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.
you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.
one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.
once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.
"morning," you say. "you ready?"
"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.
it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.
you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.
"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"
the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."
the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.
"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.
now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.
marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.
when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.
luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.
you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.
"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.
your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.
"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."
"yes, chef," you say.
taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.
"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.
"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.
"hm, worse."
he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."
"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.
you nod. "yes, chef."
you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.
luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"
you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.
"yes, chef."
"alright."
luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.
luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.
you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."
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end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned
if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!
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slut4msby · 5 months
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i miss you. iwaizumi hajime x reader
+ tags & warnings; pure fluff (for a change) :3
+ a/n; i need myself a hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer so bad rn its not even funny i want him so badly and i could treat him so well, he can take out any stress and/or anger on me pls i love hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer pls let me be like ur pretty little house wife hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer
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“I miss you, Hajime. I miss you so much it’s not even funny. The whole house feels so empty without you here. How has it only been three nights…” You ramble through the phone to your fiance. He had left to go on a work trip to a very important match. You and Iwaizumi both knew there was no way he was getting out of it.
“Mhm? Is that right darling?” He responded, “I wish you were here with me…” Iwaizumi sounded exhausted from the strenuous exercise and work he was doing. You wanted to take care of him like you would always do after his long weeks. Sitting down together, you giving him a back massage, him rambling on about his day. It was one of your favourite intimate moments to spend with your partner. “Laying here with me, in my arms. Kissing me…” 
“Hajime, you get so clingy when you are lonely.” You chuckle. Despite being a tall and well-built masculine man. He was always a massive cutie, and you adored his soft side. It always felt so personal in contrast to the version of Iwaizumi everyone else saw. He cared so much about not only you but everyone. 
“Mhm, can’t help it.” 
“Whatever, you big loser. I’m gonna head to bed now, I’ll talk to you in the morning, yeah?”
“Of course, darling. Sleep well, I love you.”
“I love you too, Haji.”
You hate to admit it but that night was the hardest night yet. Something about how clingy Iwaizumi was tonight sent butterflies to your stomach. Your big beefy boyfriend's weakness was you. His pretty little fiance. Your bed felt empty, lacking the usual warmth from Hajime’s proximity, leaving a noticeable void behind you.
It had now been two nights since that phone call. Your eyes open the next morning, waking up to the familiar tone of the empty house. Despite the day ahead, thoughts of Iwaizumi linger in your mind. You missed him more than ever right now, all you wanted was to feel the embrace of your partner. 
As the evening approaches, you find yourself yearning for the comforting sound of his voice. Dialling his number, you eagerly wait for him to pick up. The exhaustion from his work trip is evident in his tone, but the warmth in his voice brings a sense of relief.
"Hajime, how was your day?" You inquire.
"Long and tiring," he sighs, "but I can't wait to come home."
"I can't wait to see you, Haji. The house feels incomplete without you, I feel incomplete without you" you confess, a genuine sentiment underlying your words.
"I feel the same way, darling. I miss you more than words can express," he admits, his voice softening.
“I need you, Hajime.”
“I know, Y/N. I’m not any better than you.” Hechuckles in a deep, hearty manner.
God his laugh could bring you back from the dead with how it makes your body feel. 
The call ended once again for the fifth night in a row, only two more nights to go. This was the longest amount of time you and Iwaizumi had spent apart from each other since getting together. What you didn;t know was the mental toll it had on Hajime. He had initially anticipated being the strong one in this situation, but in reality, he would willingly abandon any commitment just to be with you at that moment. 
As part of the cycle you wake up again. In an empty bed, once again. Craving the touch of Iwaizumi, craving his presence. You missed waking up to him, even when he was in a deep slumber. His face soft, hair a mess. He looked ethereal, more ethereal than the vacant sheets and pillows that now occupy his usual place. 
You turn and look at your bedside table, on it is a photo frame, a photo of you and Hajime from your high school graduation. The day he had expressed his feelings to you. With a wistful sigh, you trace your fingers along the edge of the frame, reminiscing about the moment captured. As you place the photo down and get up, move out to the kitchen. You stand in front of your coffee machine and stand there as the espresso pours out. Next to the coffee machine sat Iwaizumi’s mug. The mug he would use every morning, as you two would sit cuddled up on the couch before the day started, just sitting and basking in the feeling of being with each other. It was a large blue mug, nothing special but it belonged to Iwaizumi Hajime.
You take your usual seat on the couch, turning on the TV to whatever shitty news station was last left on. You try paying attention to the weather or whatever, she was talking about. Before it moved onto the sports section, more specifically volleyball. You look around at the familiar faces of Hajime’s team, but no sight of Hajime. You were hoping maybe you could catch a glimpse of your boyfriend on the screen, but nothing. You let out a sigh, before taking another sip from the mug in front of you.
You are truly in a world of your own when you get interrupted by the door opening. You had sworn you had locked the door, you freeze still. 
“Goodbye cruel world.” You think to yourself.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice says softly, your head darting around to see someone standing in the doorway, removing his shoes. Not just anyone, your someone. 
“HAJIME?!” You shout with excitement.
Your heart skips a beat as you leap off the couch, abandoning all composure. There, standing in the doorway, is Iwaizumi Hajime – your massive, cutie of a boyfriend who was supposed to be away on a work trip. Disbelief and joy flood your senses as you rush towards him, practically throwing yourself into his waiting arms.
"Hajime, you're back!" you exclaim, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight.
He chuckles, his strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "Couldn't stay away any longer, could I?"
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you pull back slightly to look at him. "But the match? The work trip?"
“I wrapped things up early for you.”
“They let you?” You questioned.
“Told them I was sick.”
“You can’t just lie like that, Hajime.” You say playful hitting his arm.
"Turns out, I couldn't bear to be apart from you either.” He says kissing your head, “and technically not a lie, I was sick of not seeing you, darling.”
A surge of emotions overwhelms you, and you can't help but pepper his face with excited kisses. Iwaizumi responds with laughter, his deep and hearty laugh filling the room. The void that haunted the past nights dissipates, replaced by the warmth of his presence.
He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Missed you too much. Couldn't resist coming back to my pretty little fiancée."
As you both settle on the couch, Iwaizumi takes the mug from the coffee table, the familiar blue one he always used. "Missed this mug," he remarks with a smirk.
With a playful eye roll, you reply, "Yeah, well, I missed you using it."
As the TV continues to drone on in the background, you find yourself caught up in the joy of the unexpected reunion. The cycle that seemed endless has been broken, and the empty bed, the vacant mug, and the lingering void are now filled with the presence of Iwaizumi.
©slut4msby.
217 notes · View notes
19ndonboy · 1 year
Text
do something, babe - mason mount
words: 2.7k
A/N: i’m back with a new imagine, i got inspired by you’re losing me and hits different (surprising ik). i hope y’all will like this one and leave feedback pls :’)
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you and mason were it for each other. visiting london, you randomly met in a restaurant on a night out. as cliché as it sounds, you two ran into each other as a result of not looking in front of you, too absorbed in your conversation to give it a thought. and just like in the movies, it immediately clicked between you and your next days in london were spent getting to know each other.
his favorite movie, his favorite artist, his favorite holiday destination, his favorite food but also what makes him happy, what matters the most to him in his life… it was fair to say you knew almost everything about him in such a short period of time.
your favorite chocolate, your favorite artist, your favorite series, your safe place but also what scares you the most and what keeps you up at night… he knew everything he needed to know to affirm he wanted you by his side for a long time.
days went by and you had to go back to your hectic life in the city you call home. you stayed in touch with mason for months. both of you being way too busy to see each other, evenings would be spent on facetime talking about your days. updating him on the dramas going on in your friend’s love life and him telling you how ben and him had a lot of fun scaring their teammates today. you would have killed for that smile as he told you all about it, to this day still.
you ended up meeting those said teammates a few weeks later, visiting him for two weeks. all loved up, this trip couldn’t have been any better even if you tried to. and it went on like this for a year and a half, satisfied with this relationship you two had until it wasn’t enough anymore.
the three words you two were longing for to hear had slipped on the last night you spent together before you had to go home again. your head laying on his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you were tracing invisible patterns on his skin, the first “i love you” slipped out of his mouth. with sparks in your eyes and a big smile plastered on your face, he wish he had said them before if the price was to see you happy like a kid on christmas day. it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders when you said it back, but he swore he didn’t even need to hear it when your eyes said it all. lord, you had never looked at him like this and something happened in his stomach that night.
lots of kisses, lingering touches and words were shared that night, and the words which changed it all for you were his, “stay here”.
what followed after was you going home to sort everything with your work, the place you lived at and say your goodbyes with your family and friends as you promised to come back and to also invite them to what would be your new home. and two weeks later, you were back in cobham ready for a new chapter.
you could’ve not asked for anything better for what followed during the next three years. happiness, love, communication and trust. sure there were downs but you had gotten through them and always ended up stronger as a duo.
well that was what you thought until four months ago when the black hole was too deep to get out of it. what was at first just a rough patch happening at chelsea ended up being the cause of your relationship going downhill.
how did it go from nights spent at home cuddled on the sofa in front of a movie when he could, days spent in bed when he was exempt from training to him being locked in his game room all day and out with god knows who all night.
you had accepted it all, his sudden mood changes, him taking you as his punching bag after another loss, forgetting to show up at an event for your job. until you couldn’t hold it anymore. you were slipping through his fingers, he was losing you and he did nothing. the fake smiles, the tears at bay you were keeping every time he was kissing you on your forehead as he was leaving for another night out in a club. your heart couldn’t handle this pain anymore. it became too heavy, you felt like you could explode at any minute.
you gave him so many signs, he was blind not to see them. you two were too far gone, you didn’t recognise him anymore and moreover you couldn’t recall what you had created as it all vanished in front of you so fast. so four months ago, you decided to leave. as he was walking down the stairs, you following him, you said the dreaded words, “i’m leaving.”
of course he was too stuck in his own world, not to realize what he was doing was wrong and an argument followed. you wish he didn’t go out when you threatened him not to be here when he would come back at 3:00 am sharp. was it childish of you to say so? yes but you didn’t know what to do anymore and you were too exhausted to think twice before speaking. but the sad truth was that you meant them.
he didn’t take those words seriously and he wished he had. you know what they all say when you don’t know what you got until it’s gone. it stings. he lost you and it hurt. he tried to contact you all night after he got home to an empty house. fresh flowers you had bought the day before and all your decorating pieces left were all here to remind him that until a few hours ago, there were two people living here.
that was four months ago. time went by so fast since. you found yourself a place to live at in central london. your days were spent at work and your nights were spent in your bed in a blanket. what you wouldn’t admit to your friends is the t-shirt you have buried in your arms every night. mason’s.
his past four months were similar. his days were spent at training, trying to somehow find his will to be back to his best level. and nights were spent at home, wandering in the empty rooms, hating how quiet it was in all of them. what he wouldn’t admit to his friends is the times he found himself blaring your favorite taylor swift’s songs in his kitchen. he would always complain after hearing the same ones playing over and over again but deep down he loved to see that smile on your face as you were singing them. he even ended up knowing the lyrics to back to december, you are in love and who knows how many more.
too lost in his thoughts to notice the looks his teammates and therefore friends were giving him at training, he didn’t notice them approaching him. they wanted to put an end at this misery, they couldn’t handle seeing their friend like that. they hated to think about him going home to your once shared home which only reminded him of you and what he lost. and they did what seemed right to them in this moment. mason couldn’t even bare to argue, and to be honest, he hadn’t even heard them talking but he said yes to their proposition anyway. and this is how he ended up in a nightclub.
to his friends’ ignorance, your friends had the same idea. and with london being one of the biggest cities in the world, you two still ended up in the same place for the first time since you left. lucky you, you didn’t see him for the night. and you had a lot of fun for the first time in months. feeling free, you danced for hours on the dance floor with your closest friends and a drink in your hand. but time was ticking and you couldn’t handle standing in those heels after 2:00 am and you called it quit for the night.
waiting outside for the taxi you ordered, you wish you didn’t go out when you saw him outside. with a girl standing next to him, her hand on his arms, too close for your liking. you pictured him with other girls in love and it hurt every time, but not close to how it did now. who was she, was she the reason he faded away and only became a memory, did she make him happy. you threw up on the street and that was when he saw you. he had seen you in every state for you to be ashamed of that, but it didn’t mean you wanted him to approach you. as he walked closer, your taxi finally arrived and while one of your friend helped you, the other one was pushing him away much to his complaints.
it physically hurt. he felt his heart dropping to his stomach as you obviously didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. god, he didn’t even know the name of the girl who was talking to him. he just wanted to talk to you. the truth was he couldn’t bear to live anymore time alone because everything at home reminded him of you and how he had lost the best thing he ever had in his life.
as you hopped into the taxi, tears started flowing and you couldn’t do anything to stop them. one of your friends, ava, stayed at yours for the night helping you to clean yourself up, to get you a big needed glass of water and to wipe away the tears on your cheek as you rambled about how much you missed mason. you’re trying really hard to move on from him and what you had but at this point you don’t think you could get peace.
miles away, mason was no good too. he couldn’t stay with his friends and went back home. too exhausted, he slept on the sofa. he swore he felt your touch on his cheek as he was falling asleep. but again that was the ghost of you dancing around his – your – house, playing tricks with him. as he woke up five hours later after what felt like one of the worst nights of his life, he dragged his feet to his kitchen. medicine well needed, he opened a cupboard and the first thing he was met with was your hot chocolate cup with the lipstick stain almost faded.
you were everywhere. not too long ago, two weeks maybe, he found himself crying on the floor of the dressing room as he put his hand on a taylor swift t-shirt you thought you had lost. nothing had ever felt so wrong in this moment. why did he find it if you weren’t here to jump around, happy like a kid who found his cuddle toy.
you are the one he loves and he was going to make sure you knew that. had you ever doubted he loved you, you did and the thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach. if there was one thing he would always be sure of is his love for you and if he had to scream it on a rooftop for everyone and you to hear, he would.
jumping in his shower, he quickly got ready before he hopped into his car with one thing in mind, to mend your – and his – broken heart and get you back in what once was your shared home. on the way to your place, he thought about everything he could tell you when he finally sees you. too engrossed in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice when he arrived at his destination. and that’s when the nerves hit him. what if you slam the door in his face, what if you let him in your flat but not in life again. he almost lost it but he was here now and he couldn’t chicken out.
silence was haunting you, ava had left a few minutes ago and you were now alone with your thoughts. until you heard a car in the parking lots of your building. not thinking too much of it, you didn’t pay attention to it until someone knocked on your door. weird, you thought as you made your way to the door, your brows furrowed.
you opened it and you felt your heart stop as you saw who was behind the door. was it real or did you lose your mind? you couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening until he whispered your name in a desperate tone. rather daring of him to pretend he was the one hurting when he got you there in the first place, you thought.
“i just wanna talk, please… i’ll be gone after if you want me to”. you got nothing to lose and you wanted to hear what he had to say, so you let him in with a sigh. he felt his head spinning when he inhaled your scent in the room. oh he missed it and you so much. making your way to the sofa, you both seated at the end of it, too far away for his liking but it was his own fault.
“i’m sorry. for making you go through this, for making you feel like you didn’t matter to me when you’re my first thought when i wake up and my last one when i go to bed, for making you think i don’t love you anymore when there isn’t even a word to verbalize how much i do. i’m sorry for not fighting for us and giving up on us so easily.”
your breath hitched in your throat the more he spoke. you wanted to stop him and speak but he nodded and continued.
“i was too stupid to realize what i was doing to you and to us. i know a sorry will never be enough but this is all i can do until you let me in again. i know better now. and what i mostly know is that i miss you, i miss waking up to you by my side, i miss you being in charge of the music in the car, i miss you complaining when i eat the last piece of chocolate.”
your mind went empty and you had no idea what to add as he was looking desperately at you, waiting for something to come out of your mouth. but as seconds that felt like hours passed by, every tiny hope he had was fading. “please say something y/n.” and you really wanted to but you couldn’t find the words.
if you listened to your brain, you would tell him to go away and that you had moved on from him already. but as you watched stand up from the couch and making his way to your door, you followed your heart and finally spoke.
“stay.” you said so quietly, you almost wondered if he heard you but he did as he stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at you. “a part of me wants you to walk away but the bigger part of me wants you back in my life, and forever.” you said with tears in your eyes. “i tried really hard to move on from you and what we had but it’s almost impossible.” you told him as he looked at the floor.
“i don’t know what the future brings me, i’m actually scared.” you chuckle. “but i wanna give us another try. i don’t want to live with the regret of not giving it another chance and wonder what it would have been like if we had tried.” the more you speak and the more he felt like he didn’t deserve you. how did he get so lucky to find you years ago.
“we will be okay. i know we have a lot to work on but you won’t regret this and this part will soon be long gone.” he said as he stared at you, his eyes trying to tell you everything his words couldn’t express. you will be okay. and with both of your hearts being full, on the verge of exploding, you walked to each other and as he held you tight in his safe arms for the first time in months, your heart started again.
tag: @pulisichavertz @mountymase @fallinforerling
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ynbabe · 7 months
Text
Fake texts au- pt.11 bffs with the rookies+ Melbourne in the summer
guys y/n's alr been doing so much idk how many more scandals I can come up with 😭 pls lemme know what situations yall would like to see these 4 in hehe 🫣 comment it or dm me my inbox is always open to yall 🥰
| Masterlist |
It had been a long few weeks before you could see your best friends once again, not having been able to attend any of the races for the rest till the summer break, but now? You were finally free and ready to cause problems for your favourite people.
You laughed to yourself as you landed at Melbourne Airport, having been to the Piastri household many times, so much so that his mother had begun putting a stocking out for you at Christmas, knowing that you'd probably be celebrating with the Aussies, much like Logan would be. He too had his own stocking.
You'd called his Mother beforehand, asking if it was okay to come over and she'd told you, she'd be keeping your favourite Shepard's pie ready. She'd also told you that Logan was staying over as well, having arrived with Oscar.
You remember all the times the three of you had spent in Oscar's room as teenagers, talking about everything and nothing at all them complaining and marvelling about racing, you listening and giving advice wherever you could. You went to them with all your problems and they to you.
You trusted each other with your deepest, darkest, secrets. You, Logan and Oscar, and then you met Arthur, and he had been an unlikely addition to your peculiar little group, but the three of you had soon come to realise just how similar the boy was, and decided it was only fair to adopt him into your weirdness.
"Two hours!" you whisper-yelled at yourself, looking at how much time you'd have to spend in the uber to get to the house, maybe more with traffic. So you did what you did best, just to pass the time.
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You got out of the app, not knowing how much chaos could come from one simple tweet. Turning on some mind-numbing show on Netflix, you settled in till you could be with your best friends again.
The two hours went by faster than she realised as the Uber pulled up to the house, she told the driver to pull over, earning her a weird look. She paid him his fare and took her luggage right behind the house. Thankfully the old trellis was still there, a little rotten and overgrown with vines but still there.
She climbed up with practised ease, settling just outside her friend's window, where Oscar and Logan had been sharing the Aussies' room, just like when they were young.
She sat just outside the view of the two boys Logan who was sprawled on the bed scrolling through Instagram and Oscar on the fluffy mat right below, snacking on nachos, passing some to the American as they spoke.
She couldn't help but giggle, stopping as she almost slipped off the roof.
She pulled out her phone, trying not to fall to her death or alert the residents of the house.
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She moved to see the boys' reaction, only to see him smiling, kicking his feet up.
"Oh my god, this is fucking adorable," she whispered to herself, clicking a picture, how they still hadn't noticed her was a mystery, weren't F1 drivers supposed to super attentive?
She went back to texting the unsuspecting boy.
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"Huh?" you heard the boy whisper to himself, perfect, both were distracted, now was your chance.
You jumped through the open window, making the two jump and scream. It was high-pitched and loud, making the brunette's parents run up to their room.
"IS IT THE SPIDER AGAIN?" His mother yelled, "OH HELL, DID A SNAKE GET IN?" His father questioned, as they pushed open the door, eyes wide looking around their son's room, only to find the laughing girl and their boys standing on the far end of the bed, hiding behind one other.
"How do you always fall for that?" The girl asked laughing at the prank she had been playing on her friends since she started coming home with them from their races at 16.
"Oh, sweetie, how was your flight?" His mother said, pulling you in for a hug, she ruffled your hair a little as she held you at arm's length to look at you, "It's been far too long since you visited!" She smiled and said.
His father patted her shoulder as well, "Oscar, go get her bags." he said while walking out of the room, making the boy still in shock complain, "But dad,", "Now, Oscar!" Was the only reply that came, making the girl stick out her tongue at her friend.
"How are you my parent's favourite!?" He screamed walking out the door.
"Actually, it Y/n, me and theeeeen you," Logan spread gasoline on the fire, "SHUT UP LOGAN," the boy threw a few nacho chips at the blond.
The girl let herself fall on the bed, taking Logan's phone off the charger, the boy followed suit, resting his head on her stomach, the girl lowering her phone so he could see what she was seeing as well.
She opened Twitter to find her simple tweet had practically gone viral.
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"Doesn't that bother you?" he asked making the girl raise her brow, "All these people who don't even know you and they hate you,"
She hummed as she wrapped a coil of blond hair around her finger, letting it loose and moving onto another, "I mean not really?" she started, "Sure it hurts when they call me just for hanging out with yall but it doesn't matter much cause at the end of the day I'm hanging out with yall," she explained, "It'd matter if y'all said something cause you know, you know me, but these don't mean shit, bruv," she said further, showing him the screen, where someone had suggested a club.
"Sounds good," he replied, beginning to doze off.
The flight had taken a lot out of the young girl, the jet lag finally catching up, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE IN THESE BAGS-", Oscar yelled as he walked into the room but quickly shut up as he saw his friends fast asleep. He pulled out his phone and quickly took a photo of the two for blackmail reasons and pulled a blanket over them.
Why he had to sleep on an air mattress, on the floor, in his own house, was a mystery to him but all of them had grown used to unpredictable chaos when they were together.
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what i wouldn't do to have her life 😮‍💨 also next Y/n and Arthur get home aloned and his brothers go through the 5 stages of grief thinking they'd gotten their 20-year-old brother and his friend kidnapped.
Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff
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fairyhaos · 1 year
Text
how seventeen take care of their sick s/o
requested by @cinnamoroxie : "agh i think ive been getting sick 😭 could u write svt w a sick reader / or just a reader w a sore throat and cant speak w out it hurting pls? love u hope youre doing well "
notes: i :(((( want :((( a joshua :((((
masterlist
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seungcheol:
cancels all your plans for the rest of the day when you wake up in the morning barely able to speak. won't let you protest, saying that you need to prioritise your health okay bc these people you're meeting aren't as important to him as you are. if you've just got a sniffly nose n sore throat, he'll let you sleep on him but if you're coughing n sneezing everywhere then sorry, he loves you but maybe stay away from him for a few days? 
jeonghan:
will do everything for you. even tho he doesn't have the loudest voice, he'll try his hardest to yell over the other members to get them to quieten down so he can listen to your hoarse whispers n get you whatever you need <3 gives you so many cough drops that you constantly have one in your mouth the entire time. you can taste them still on your tongue for like a day after you feel better
joshua:
gives you head massages if you have a headache, makes you honey tea if your throat hurts, always has tissues on hand if your nose is running. The Best™ at looking after you. won't leave your side, even if you're spraying germs everywhere, and he has a cold that lasts for three weeks by the end of it, but you're happy and healthy n that's all that matters to him
junhui:
kind of a fluttery mess when you get sick, doesn't rlly know what to do. pats your head constantly, asking if you're okay, and swaddles you in blankets. also gives you so many painkillers and antibiotics bc he doesn't Know what else to do okay and please you sound so terrible n croaky pls take this medicine bc it's meant to make you better and he hates when you're ill :((
hoshi:
coos and baby talks to you when you're sick and a blocked nose mess. speaks in a whisper back to you if you have a sore throat and can barely speak, makes those canned soups for you and spoon feeds it to you. he's a messy feeder tho, n most of it gets around your mouth but he wipes it away vv gently afterwards. hoshi is probably so, so soft when taking care of someone when they're sick tbh &lt;3
wonwoo:
accompanies you everywhere you go. insists you lie down and sleep but if you don't, then he's hovering around you like a concerned mother to make sure you don't overdo it. tells everyone you meet that you have a sore throat and so you can't speak, and Will drag you away if you start coughing too hard, scolding you lightly and pulling a scarf out of nowhere to wrap around your neck
woozi:
wants to take time off working so bad to help take care of you but he rlly can't </3 sets medicine and a glass of water on the table for you to take in the morning, regularly calls you (or texts, if you can't speak) to see how you're doing. checks up on you at night, smiles and kisses you on the forehead if you wake up and blearily murmur his name. he's busy, but he'll still make time to be soft for you
minghao:
always has tissues. and hand sanitizer. and cough drops. and paracetamol. has literally everything, really. says well done and pats your head when you drain a whole glass of water while swallowing the medicine, bc drinking water and flushing out toxins is the best way to get rid of an illness. another person who baby talks you if you're all sick n pouty
mingyu:
makes soup. makes tea. forces both liquids down your throat even if you complain bc it's good for you and he spent so much of his precious time making it for you how dare you try and refuse???? it definitely helps with your sore throat the next day, though, and he looks so smug as he ladles you another bowl of soup to have in the morning. 
dokyeom:
almost starts crying when you tell him u have a sore throat through barely-there whispers bc the pain :((( of not being able to speak :((( that breaks his heart to think about. knows the struggles of runny noses So Well, whips out a tissue and presents it in front of your face if you so much as sniffle quietly. hugs you the entire time, wakes up the next morning with a sore throat and then Actually starts crying
seungkwan:
your personal megaphone whenever you're sick and can't speak. yells at the other members to shut up and listen when you have something to say, and then repeats what you whisper in his rlly loud voice. won't let you have meds (they are!! the demon's pills!!!!) but learns from mingyu how to make rlly good chicken broth for you
vernon:
gets so sad for u when you croak out to him that you can't speak bc your throat hurts so bad. makes you gargle with salt water after brushing your teeth bc it helps disinfect your throat (this is true actually n it really helps). randomly holds his hand to your forehead to check your temperature, but he can never tell if you're running hot or if it's just him
chan:
is all "oh no you're sick :(((( that's terrible also pls don't come too close to me" but pulls you in for a hug immediately if you even vaguely hint at wanting one. googles if throat massages are a thing when you tell him you can't speak bc it hurts, gives you lemon honey tea bc he finds out that helps. kinda ends up massaging your throat? his hands are always warm and they feel nice when placed on your neck
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request guidelines
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nonclassyparty · 4 months
Text
tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)
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summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine
pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)
previous chapter
(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)
Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all
present time (21 and 23 years old);
There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.
It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.
You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.
But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.
And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.
Alright, now you were just projecting.
But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.
There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."
You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.
No more football.
The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.
You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.
And it's been a lot of doctors.
The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.
You didn't know which was worse.
After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.
The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.
Your dad, of course, tries.
"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."
It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.
"Right." Is all you say.
Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.
Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.
"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table. 
You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.
He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.
"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."
"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.
"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."
"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.
"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."
"Dad-"
"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"
"They weren't my friends-"
"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.
"Fine."
"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."
You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.
-
You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.
Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.
You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.
Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.
She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.
Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.
You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.
But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.
Just...try, at least.
You clear your throat. Here you go...
"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.
"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."
So...now what?
You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.
"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.
"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."
It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;
"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."
You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party. 
"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."
She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.
You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."
Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"
You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.
You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.
Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.
It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.
Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"
"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."
"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!" 
"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"
"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."
"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"
There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,
"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"
You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.
"I'll go wash my face."
"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."
It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.
And she really does.
She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it. 
She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.
She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.
All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.
It's bonding, you realize. 
You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.
It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.
But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.
"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"
"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."
"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."
You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk. 
You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."
She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."
That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"
Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.
"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."
You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.
"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."
"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."
You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.
Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all. 
The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.
You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.
It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.
And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.
Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.
Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.
It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.
"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"
Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.
"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."
You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.
It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.
"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.
Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.
It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.
"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."
You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."
When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.
So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.
"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.
The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.
You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.
You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.
"You're a nice girl, Y/N."
"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."
She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.
"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."
"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"
"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."
As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.
New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.
Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.
Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.
She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.
As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.
You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.
At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.
You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.
"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."
Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."
"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.
You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.
 Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.
Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.
He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.
You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.
You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.
Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.
And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.
"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"
You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.
"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."
Oh. Oh.
Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.
"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."
She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."
You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.
Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?
"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.
"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."
"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.
"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?
He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."
"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."
Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."
You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.
"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.
With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."
"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?
To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.
"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.
"What?" You ask, lost entirely. 
Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."
Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.
A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.
Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.
"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."
"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"
"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"
She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.
You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid. 
They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.
A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.
"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.
"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."
He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"
You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.
It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.
Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"
His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."
Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.
Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"
"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."
"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.
You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.
"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"
Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.
"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.
Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"
Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."
You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"
Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.
There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.
Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.
Two birds with one stone.
"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."
Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."
"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"
You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.
Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.
"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.
There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you. 
He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.
While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.
Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!
Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-
Wait.
Nononono.
But-
Wait.
You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.
As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.
His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.
He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.
This...whore. 
A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.
When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.
"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.
Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!
Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.
You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.
"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."
All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"
You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."
Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.
"Mind showing me?"
It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.
-
Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.
 But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic. 
Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened. 
This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.
He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.
Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.
Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.
When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms. 
He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.
When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.
Jesus Christ.
When the fuck did you become hot?
Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.
Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.
Wow.
It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 
Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.
He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.
"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."
No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.
"I-It looks bad?"
It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.
But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.
And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.
"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?
The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.
The business being your marvelous tits.
With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.
"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.
"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.
God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.
His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.
When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.
Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.
"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.
With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.
His dick ached.
"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...
"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"
"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."
His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.
You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.
"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.
"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.
So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.
Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"
-
You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.
He's beautiful.
Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.
There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.
You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.
You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.
When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.
Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.
And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.
You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis. 
You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.
You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.
There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-
"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"
Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.
It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.
You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.
His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.
"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"
It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.
"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"
You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."
"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.
You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."
"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?
You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears. 
Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.
You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.
Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?
You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.
It was going so well these last two years.
With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.
He tasted like lemonade.
122 notes · View notes
lewkwoodnco · 4 months
Text
Be More - George x Reader
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"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."
"Yes, chef."
He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response.
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a/n: am soooo salty i fell sick in the middle of my 12 days of fics '23 for xmas last year :((( so im giving myself a lil treat by doing a short series of valentine's fics! i SO don't know how souffles work if you can't tell so pls don't come for me, and a special special thanks to lisa @neewtmas for the apron idea heheh. all fluff, which is why I got all my angst fics out of the way beforehand if you'd like a lil palate cleanser :) also totally didn't make this a songfic cuz i was struggling to find a title :} btw I headcannon that george randomly zones in and out in everyday life and this has nothing to do with how much I may or may not do this myself ALSO was strongly influenced to post this earlier by the multiverse of George aka @oblivious-idiot @bella-rose29@bobbys-not-that-small heh
warnings/tropes: lockwood and george bromance supremacy!!! baking, lots and lots of valentine's day fluff, awkward georgeeeee
word count: 2.8k!
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST
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Lucy handed George a steaming cup of tea, which he gratefully accepted. The three of them were having breakfast as usual, and with the last strains of winter fading, Portland Row's kitchen was entirely too bright. He closed his eyes, pretending he didn't see the way Lockwood's hand lingered on Lucy's when taking his mug. They were bad enough on any normal day, but even worse nowadays, with Valentine's Day drawing achingly closer. He felt himself begin to nod off again from the gentle and comforting steam.
He felt a mild rap against his cheek, which he turned to see is from a well-aimed sugar cube launched from across the table by Lucy. He looked up to see her staring hard at him and Lockwood poorly concealing a snigger with his cup of tea.
"George. Have you or have you not got any plans for Valentine's?"
He takes his time wiping his glasses on his shirt sleeve before responding. "Nothing much. Though I've promised Y/N I'd spend the day with her."
He watched Lucy's expression carefully, and she seemed to be watching his. Truth was, with Valentine's drawing closer and closer, George was going into a mild panic. He hadn't exactly arranged it intentionally. They had been having a quiet chat on a morning when George had been too tired from the previous night's case to strictly follow, and suddenly she was waving goodbye, promising to see him next on Valentine's Day.
He had no idea what kind of a Valentine's Day he had agreed to, or how much of a filter he had had, and he had been dropping Lucy desperate cries for help, with decreasing subtlety. Was it a date? Was she expecting a date? Sure, they had went to that play together after Lucy fell mysteriously ill, and maybe they met up for lunch once a week. But she never referred to
His eyes slowly drifted close as Lucy and Lockwood's conversation morphed into gentle white noise, enjoying the warmth of the little sun streaming through their kitchen window. It felt nice to have a little break from his intense week of baking -
Baking! George snapped wide awake, clumsily climbing out of his chair and feverishly counting the stacks of meticulously wrapped, frilly pastry goodie bags lining the kitchen counter. It had become an annual Valentine's Day tradition for George to construct these small goodie bags of baked goods for a sizeable chunk of his extended family. He even roped in Lucy and Lockwood, and as Valentine's Day approached they'd all gather around the kitchen table at night, even if it was after a case, packing the delicaices George had spent the day baking, until one of them started dropping off.
It was tedious work, but they enjoyed it and were well invested in it - Lockwood fiercely so. When a cousin had remarked that perhaps the tradition was becoming a little tired at a family gathering last Christmas, Lockwood had accidentally-but-not-really smacked his head. George relaxed as he neared towards the end of the pile - just one more day of baking, and he'd be ready to send them off.
Lucy and Lockwood were mostly finished with breakfast anyway, so he chased them out of the kitchen and got to work. Once George had his first batch of cookies in the oven, he started planning for the supplementary baked goods. For instance, he was going to make a chocolate souffle for the three of them to share over a midnight supper tomorrow.
So when the kitchen door swung open, letting in a blast of cold air, George spun around scathingly, ready to threaten Lockwood with deflated souffles. But the hiss at the tip of his tongue withered when he saw who it was.
"...Y/N?"
"Hello. Baking, are you?"
George suppressed the urge to shield the vast volumes of confectionary goodie bags littering the kitchen's surfaces.
"...yes." With some difficulty, he slowly resumed his movements, explaining how this was something he did every year. In a way, he was grateful to have something to do with his hands, because the last minute or so reminded him that he had no idea what he normally did with his hands while standing.
"Oh. Need any help?"
It took George another half-minute to process her question. "With what?"
"With the baking, obviously."
"Uh...s'alright, I've got it all handled."
"No, please, I'd love to help."
George paused mid-stir, looking comically perplexed with a smidge of flour on his nose. "What for?" He bit his tongue, hastily back-pedalling since his tone sounded aggressively suspicious. "What I mean is, you wouldn't want to spend your day here, sweating like a pig - not that you sweat, and definitely not like a pig, no - I'm the one sweating like a pig..."
What he wanted to say was, their oven was ancient and so made the kitchen stupid hot every time he baked, but failed miserably. He set down his mixing bowl in defeat. Almost instantly, she stifled a giggle, trying to pass it off as clearing her throat, and George followed her gaze to his apron in horror. What the mixing bowl had previously been hiding was the horrendously cheesy 'kiss the cook' graphic on his apron.
It had been a ridiculous gag gift from Lucy, one that he had never intended to use but was forced to after his last apron caught on fire from one of his experiments with the skull. Bursting into flames would have been more useful now, He stood there, eyes watering from the heat, determined in his refusal to acknowledge both the apron and the smile she was doing a poor job of suppressing.
"Fine. You can start with the cookie batter."
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About a minute or two later, it occurred to George that perhaps it would have wise to ask how much experience she had with baking. Not a lot, he soon discovered, when her bowl nearly flew off as soon as she switched on the egg beater. He dropped his mixing bowl instantly, waving away her apologies.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't expect it to be so powerful."
He cautiously adjusted her grip on the bowl, gently guiding her fingers to a better hold.
"No, no, it's my fault. Not much of a baker?"
"...no."
"Okay, so what you do is, use one hand to hold the - other hand - hold the bowl, and the other holds the egg beater like - no, not quite."
He took a step closer, placing his hands over hers, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her body, and the smell of her shampoo.
The last time they had been this close was on their way home from that play. With Lockwood out of town for a client meeting, and Lucy developing a mysterious case of the flu, it was only the two of them crouched under a tiny umbrella as they walked home after the play. George would have been more than happy to walk in the rain, but she was the one holding the umbrella, and was firm in her resolve to not send him back to Lucy with a head cold. With the little space between them, their cheeks brushed against each other occasionally, sending a jolt running through the side of George's face.
"Well...this is me."
George nodded dumbly, staring hard at the chips in her front door's paint, agonisingly aware of her looking at his face. He didn't dare turn to meet her gaze; they were far too close.
"I had fun today, George."
He sighed and briefly zonesout. As short as their chat was, he remembered very little, his focus only returning when she pulled her key out.
"We should do this again sometime," she was saying, as she turned the key in her lock. When he finally looked at her, there were the tinies raindrops on her eyelashes. There was something so pure and unassuming about the sight that it tugged at his heart. It made him want...more. More with her. With a brief smile, she disappeared into her home, leaving him standing alone in the rain. He stood there for a minute, prolonging the moment for some unidentifiable reason. It was a nice door. She had a nice smile.
It was as though she had read his thoughts from his eyes, for a faintly embarrassed air hung in the kitchen after that. For the next better part of an hour, they engaged in this delicate dance as they floated through the kitchen, carefully staying out of each other's way, never in the same area for long. It wasn't until she was sifting the dry ingredients that they next spoke.
"Hang on, that might be too much flou-"
As George touched her elbow, her hand jerked, sending a sizeable chunk of flour into her mixing bowl, along with a cloud of it directly in her face. He was sorry, of course, but as she spluttered and tried to blink through it, he couldn't stop the amused twist to his features. When she caught his eye, she rolled her eyes and sent a fistful of flour into his eyes. Now it was her turn to laugh as George groaned through the smarting.
"You're right, Mr. Cook, it IS hilarious!"
George scoffed, struggling to maintain his sanctimonius, above-petty-acts front as he wiped his glasses clean with as much dignity as he could muster. But on the inside, his defences were crumbling fast.
"You're acting like a child."
She looked mildly apologetic for a moment, and George felt a flash of truimph, before she raised both her flour-coated hands and resolutely streaked them across George's face.
"Egg on your face. Or should I say, flour?"
With that, all pretenses of civility were thrown out the window. The both of them swept up as many ingredients as they could and migrated to opposite ends of the kitchen table, pelting each other with everything that could be pelted. George landed a few well-aimed chocolate chips into her hair. She soaked the front of his apron with half a jug of milk, which was nearly enough to send him into hysterics. So it went on and on and on, until they ran out of supplies in their immediate reach, before resorting to shoving each other's faces into bags and tins of baking soda and powdered sugar. This, it occurred to George as he was rubbing cornstarch into her red, wheezing face, is strangely intimate.
Again, there was this tugging sensation in his chest, the kind that made him want to sit in his armchair for anywhere from half a minute to half an hour. The kind of sensation that could not be held in words. The closest he could get was the wish for a never-ending summer, or perhaps orchards full of cherry trees as sweet as the first pick. But even that fell short.
Just as she raised two fistfuls of sprinkles, the kitchen door swung open. Lockwood wandered in, looking sharp as ever in his too-small suit. The two of them smoothly parted, their faces burning under the flour, and George suddenly became very interested in the pastry dough he was kneading. He felt rather than saw Lockwood looking back and forth between the two of them, wishing that he'd just take whatever he needed from the kitchen and got out. But of course, he knew better than to engage in wishful thinking, especially with Lockwood's mildly gormless smile plain as day. "Hang on. George, you do realise that-"
Whatever it was that Lockwood was wondering if he had realised was cut off by the jam tart George shoved into his mouth, because the answer was probably yes, Lockwood, of course I realised that completely inane observation.
"Out. Out. I won't have you compromising the integrity of my kitchen." With a little difficulty, George wheeled a spluttering Lockwood littering soft pastry flakes all over his clean kitchen floor out into the hallway. He shut the door firmly and turned back apologetically, only just seeing the flour in her hair as she watched on amusedly.
"I sure hope I'm not starting up a ruckus - or was it compromising the integrity? - of your kitchen."
George felt his cheeks warming as he returned to the kitchen table. "No, of course not. You never know where Lockwood's been, is all. You're different."
Had he been standing this close to her the whole day, he wondered, close enough to see the pretty flakes in her eyes, softer than any pastry he could make? How was he supposed to look away? And how did he stand it?
"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."
"Yes, chef."
He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response, embarrassedly muttering something along the lines of how there was no need for any of that. As she got absorbed into getting the strips of dough just right, George glanced at the kitchen door, to see Lockwood silently making exaggerated kissy faces at him. George picked up his rolling pin and Lockwood fled immediately, without so much as a creak from the floorboards.
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Now, they finally returned to their baking with proper focus, now that they were all tired out. She seemed to have picked up some skills pretty quickly, though he still kept an eye out in case she might do something that would, say, set her hand on fire.
An hour or so later, the phone started ringing obnoxiously in the hallway. With some difficulty, George peeled off one of his disposable gloves on his way to it. When he picked up the phone, he almost wished he hadn't, because it was that same cousin from last Christmas' gathering. As his voice wore on and on, George started wishing he had let Lockwood give him another punch or two, just to set him straight.
Suddenly, he picked out a few startling words from his cousin's nasally voice, which made his heart plummet, as the calendar in the hallway came into startling focus. He wandered back to the kitchen door, numbly hearing his cousin's complaints of why no one's goodie bags had reached yet. He blankly stared at her, and she stared back confused, slowing down her cutting of the strips concernedly. After a second or two, he hung up the phone, but was in too much shock to lower it.
"Today's date," he whispered.
"Hm?"
"Today's date. It's not the 13th. I thought it was the 13th. Today is the 14th. Valentine's day was today, not tomorrow."
Even as he was saying those words, the calm look on her face told him exactly what he had feared - that she had known all along.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I thought this was what you wanted to do!"
"Unpaid labour."
"What?"
"You spent your Valentine's Day doing exhausting, difficult, unpaid labour." He clumsily placed the phone down on the kitchen counter, struggling to find the right words as he fought against the embarrassment. "I am so sorr- just a minute, I might have some loose change somewhere here-"
"Don't." George was spiraling with shame, kicking himself for his oversight, and she still had the gall to look that pretty and kind. "I didn't mind any of it one bit, I promise."
"I promised you something fun."
"George, this is the most fun I've ever had baking, and I've been making pineapple upside down cakes since before I could - oh."
She broke off when she finally looked up to see the growing shock on George's face. She nibbled at the inside of her cheek nervously, trying to gauge his reaction.
"So you do know how to bake."
"Only a little?"
He took in the sight of her apologetic smile, the careful dusting of flour on her face and her suspiciously clean clothes. "You could have said."
"Oh, but I was having so much fun." George rolled his eyes. "I spent the day learning how to construct the most adorable pastry goodie bags I have ever seen, and I did it all with my boyfriend. Believe me, it doesn't get more fun than this."
Not for the first time that day, George stared at her in wonder, like he couldn't quite figure out how she was real. Even now, when all she was doing was merely existing, words failed him. He had a feeling he'd spend lifetimes chasing shadows, trying to pin what was gone before it bloomed, and he still wouldn't be able to find the right words. There was no other way to put it, or colour it - he wished they were more.
He hesitantly extended his hand, brushing just a speck of the huge handprint of flour on her face with his thumb. He turned, walking out into the hallway, but then just as immediately wheeled back.
"Your WHAT?"
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TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits
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thisismeracing · 9 months
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Sorry v mate for blurb night, congrats on reaching ur goal! (Not surprising bc I am obsessed with ur writing, feel like you can see into micks brain and you just write him so perfectly omg)
Blurb req if you’re continuing them (pls don’t feel you have to though!) Mick+ pining + angst bc I hate myself and need more bestie mick and reader who are lovesick and both too scared to say anything 💀
Pining | MS47
⸺ the one where Mick's been pining over Yn forever, and when he finally gets the courage to admit it, she tells him she's dating his best friend (Lance Stroll). ✓ none, I guess.
⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist
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Where Mick was shy, Lance was outgoing. Where Mick had attentive but secretive eyes, Lance would spill his soul into each glance. Where Mick was afraid of confessing his love, Lance did not hold back telling exactly how he felt.
That's how Yn found herself threading through new waters. It felt refreshing to be loved openly, to be reassured, treasured.
She was Mick's best friend, just like she was friends with Esteban and Lance, but her friendship with the German was different. It was more. Or it felt like more for her. However, Mick never took the first step, never tried to give her enough to keep her flame, to not kill her faith. She had been pining after him for a long, but for some sick joke of destiny, she could not see him doing the same in his own way. And Yn took each silence of his as Mick's silent message that he did not feel the same when, in reality, it was the opposite.
Mick was head over heels for Yn. In a way, he had never been before. Maybe that's why it took him so long to realize, so long to decide and confess.
"I have something to tell you!" He smiled when Yn walked inside the small driver's room. She was wearing a sundress, and she had never looked so good. Her skin was glowing, and her smile shone as bright as a summer morning.
"Me too!" She closed the gap between them, the tip of their shoes touching.
She was always so affectionate. Always so caring. Always so warm and cheerful.
"On three?" Yn giggled, holding Mick's hand.
He felt his heart beating on his throat, his hands colder than ever, his eyes searching for hers. Though he guessed she liked him, he was still nervous. They were best friends. They were always there for each other. How would this dynamic play out once their feelings were in the open? Mick had spent weeks, almost months chewing this question as if he would come up with a solution, as if destiny didn't play the rhythm it wanted.
You chose the lyrics, but life sometimes decided how it would play, and you could only dance along. That's how it felt once their counting hit three.
"I'm in love with you."
"I'm dating Lance."
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I AM NOW OBSESSED WITH OPEN ENDINGS HAHAHAHAHAH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!!! Don't forget to reblog and leave me an ask *mwah* also thank you for the compliments, nonny!! I'm really happy you like the way I portray him hihi
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Text
Winning Prize (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader) - 🔞
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WC: 1.6K
Warnings: SMUT, cursing, sexual restraint, oral (m receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, slight dom&sub, explicit descriptions. MINORS DNI
A/N: posted the teaser almost a week ago and the full smut is finally here! hope this doesn’t disappoint and pls be nice 🫣 hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍
Last night, USMNT just won CONCACAF Nation League and after the post-match press conference, Christian spent the whole night celebrating with the players. They won with 2-0 score – just three days before, they won 3-0 against Mexico – their biggest rival – in the semifinal and he scored two goals for the team. I went with him, the guys, and their families but not long after I decided to go back to the hotel early to get some sleep – at least that’s what I told him. Before I left, he asked me if I wanted him to go with me – I told him to stay because I thought he deserved to finally celebrate a win after a horrible season at Chelsea.
I whispered into his ears, “I’ll give you the special winning prize later on, Captain.”
Clearly knew what I was talking about, he smirked at me then whispered back into my ears as he playfully slap my butt, “I can’t fucking wait.”
Just two hours after I settled in my room, I got a text from him telling me he’s coming back to the hotel. I already have my lingerie on – I put on the white lace lingerie he loves so much – and hide it underneath a robe. Not long after, the doorbell rings.
“Hey!” He greets me.
He shows up all smiling and kind of wet, smelling like champagne covered his whole body. He still has his medal and captain armband on.
“So, I’m here to claim my prize…” He smirks.
“Wanna tell me what is it?”
“Well…” I say as I open my robe and reveal what’s beneath it, “you just have to find out for yourself.”
“Woah,” he gulps, “am I the luckiest man or what?”
He starts kissing my neck.
“Wait…” as I reluctantly lean away, “I have something you may like.”
I go to grab something near the bed and he follows.
“You know how you’ve talked about wanting to be tied up? If you still want to, we can try it tonight…”
His eyes widen and his jaws drop open.
“Are you serious???”
“Yes.” I say as I show him the cotton ropes I brought just in case he wanted to try.
“I never thought this day would finally come... Fuck, I love you Y/N!”
He immediately takes off his shirt and puts the medal on the bedside table – and before I asked him not to remove his captain armband and pants – then gets in position as I tell him to get comfortable first since he will not be able to move a lot. He looks so giddy and excited as I tie his hands to the bed – obviously because he has been asking for this for quite a while but I was never really sure… Until today.
I get on top of him and remove my robe.
“Shall we begin?”
He licks his lips and nods.
I start by kissing the little freckle behind his ear, move to his ears, lick them and give each a little bite, then kiss and suck his neck and leave him a hickey – he loves to leave one on me and now it’s my turn to leave my mark.
My lips then find their way into his, sliding my tongue into his mouth and swirling mine around his tongue.
As we kiss, I put my hand inside his shorts and rub his bulge – which is starting to get hard.
“Fuck…” He moans between kissing.
I rub it even harder and he bites my bottom lip.
“Do you want me to set your cock free?” I whisper to him.
“Yes… Please…” He whimpers.
“Mmm, as you wish.”
I pull down his shorts and his underwear, his cock is now fully erect. I start stroking the head and slowly moving my hand up and down.
“More…” He begs.
I change my pace and start twisting. He closes his eyes and hisses once in a while – soaking the pleasure in.
“Baby… Don’t you wanna taste it?” 
“Taste of what?” I play innocent.
“You know…  My lollipop.”
“Ugh, don’t call it ‘lollipop’!” I’m jokingly disgusted – though I don’t like that term.
“Why do you think you deserve me to blow you away?”
“I’ve been good, I just won a fucking league… Please...” He faintly begs.
I start going down on him – I trace his chest with my lips and as I get in between his legs, I lick his cock from the bottom up. I swirl my tongue around the tip and he quivers – it feels so good his thighs start to shake.
“Put it deep into your mouth…”
Our eyes meet while I slowly put his cock into my mouth. He bites back a moan.
I get deeper and deeper, and when he feels closer to reaching the back of my throat, he gasps and growls.
As I continue fucking his cock with my mouth, his toes curl up and he rolls his eyes.
“Y/N… I’m about to cum…” He trembles, his breath hitches.
I pull off and pump him with my hand to finish.
“Don’t, not until our next act...” I tease him.
He groans – he was really close but I stopped before he finished.
As I’m about to get on top of him, he stopped me for a second.
“Wait, I have an idea.”
He looks at the medal on the bedside table.
“Why don’t you wear my medal?”
I take the medal and put it around my neck. The medal lies between my breasts, and Christian seems to love the view.
“Now, take your lingerie off.”
I take it off and now fully naked.
“Y/N,” he stares at my bare chest and bites his lips, “that medal looks so fucking good on you.”
I get seated on top of his cock and rub my clit and wet pussy onto it.
“Oh, fuck… Baby you’re so wet…” He murmured.
“I want to be inside you… Now.”
I bury his cock in me – both of us instantly moan once he is completely inside me. With my hands on his thighs, I start riding him at a slow pace. Our skins slapping against each other feels so good.
“Faster…” He moans.
As I move faster, he can’t keep his eyes off my bouncing breasts and medal in-between. He licks his lips and gulps.
“I have never seen someone this hot while wearing a medal.”
“Yeah, lucky you.” I jokingly reply.
I’m now riding him at a much faster and deeper pace. Enjoying the ride so much, he squeezes his eyes shut and groans.
He starts clenching his fists and breathing heavily.
“Baby don’t stop…” he begs, “I’m close…”
I squeeze his cock while he is still inside me and I feel his cum running down all over my pussy. He lets out the loudest moan – he tilts his head backwards, his eyes are shut, and he breathes heavily.
“Untie me?” He softly asks as I get off of him.
I untie his hands and throw away the ropes.
“Thank you,” he says, “this was super hot. And fun.”
I smile and give him a quick kiss.
“My pleasure as always.”
“And now it’s my turn.” He says as he grabs my waist and flips me over.
Christian is now on top of me, laying between my thighs.
“Oh, up for the second round already?” I laugh.
“With you? Always.” He strokes my hair and smirks.
He kisses my neck and sucks it until he leaves a hickey – as he always does. He moves to my breasts – he plays my nipples with his tongue and gently bites them. The rippling arousal feels so good I never want it to end.
My pussy starts to get wet again and I can tell he feels it dripping down on him.
“Shall we begin?” He seductively repeats what I said at the beginning.
“Yes, Captain, get in…” I murmur.
He slides his cock inside my pussy and grinds his hips against me at a steady pace. I put my legs around his waist and scratch my nails across his muscled back.
“This feels so good…” He murmurs.
“Yeah… H-harder…” I whimper.
He changes his pace straight away. His chain is dangling on my face, the faster he moves the more it dangles.
“Say my name, baby girl…” He says as he deeply looks into my eyes and holds my hands.
“C-Christian!”
The way I gasp his name makes him thrusting even harder – and now deeper. 
“Good girl...” He whispers.
I can feel my heart pounding really fast as he called me a good girl.
“Are you close, baby?”
The feeling is so intense I can’t even speak one single word – so I just nod while whimpering.
“C-Chris…” I tremble, my hands are holding his arms tightly.
“Cum for me, baby girl.”
He intentionally messes up his rhythm as I am so close to reaching climax.
“F-fu-oh…”
I roll my eyes back, bite my lips and my whole body is shaking. When it happens it feels like time just stops and the powerful explosions of pleasure just leave my body.
After we finish, he lays his sweaty body on top of me and rests his face on my shoulder – catching his breath – before moving his body to the side.
“Baby…” He pants – still sweaty and breathless after the wonderfully steamy and passionate session we just had.
“Yeah?”
He turns his head towards me, looks down at the medal that is still on my chest, and slightly picks it up.
“I’m gonna win every single league… Just so you can wear another medal when you’re riding the fuck out of me.”
I laugh then lean in closer to his face.
“You better work even harder then, Pulisic.”
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem @shanoontje @iloveneymarforever10
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httpsbearily · 7 days
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hi! may i request a valen x princess!reader fic in which he's tasked with ensuring her safe return back to the palace after she made some negotiations with a neighboring kingdom ?? possibly with valen thinking she's like most prissy stuck-up noblewomen...
perhaps a mix of angst and fluff ?? like, maybe her carriage is attacked via her return back to the palace and she's shaken up... just a thought! :)
☆*: Canyon Moon
[Tags]: valen x reader | fem!reader | fluff
[Author’s Note]: valen, my beloved…nobody understands valen the way I do, I think that I could be a perfect wife for him pls valen just once chance I’ll give you a family. I love valen!!!!
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The weight of the world seemed to rest on your shoulder, suffocating you under its pressure. For days now, you’d spent the night as a guest in a foreign kingdom, brandishing all your essence as a royal to allure a settlement of negotiations between it and your own. You’d done your best to incline the young king into an agreement for the establishment of friendly commerce between the two nations where your people would gain the benefit of local resources unique to the foreign kingdom, while the king would gain an ally. The Knights of Heroic Order were well known throughout all of Esperia, renowned for their might and durability in battle. It was no surprise to hear the requests of younger or smaller nations to implore the assistance of your proud knights. Sent on behalf of your father, the king of Holistone, you’d spent a week traveling to the foreign land in the middle of mountane canyons, accompanied by a barrage of knights that guarded your carriage through the 24 hours of the day. Admittedly, on the way there, you’d been a mess of nerves, stressed beyond your limit as you thought of all the possibilities that could occur. This was your official act of representation of Holistone, and there were so many components that relied on this meeting. To you, it felt reasonable that you behaved as tersely as you had, unable to move from the edge of your seat as infinite consequences settled on your mind.
You hadn’t even realized how fussy and fastidious you’d been with your guards, owning the way the lead guard responded to you as the truth of his character. Valen, the knight charged with personally safeguarding you, was an irresistible individual with a charm that drew attention from all. On your departure from the city, he’d been chivalrous and suave, holding your forearm as he helped you into your carriage and fixing the hem of your dress so that it wouldn’t be caught by the door. He gave you a confident grin with a promise of taking good care of you. “You won’t have to worry about anything with me around. Just leave it all in my hands, princess.”
At the time, you’d been sporting a brave face, giving him a curt nod before turning your head to look out the opposite window to reassure yourself that this was something you could handle. You feared that looking back in his direction would give you sight of your expectant father, who stood at the head of the castle steps to see you off, and you would succumb to your worries. So you distracted yourself. Your averted eyes hadn’t witnessed the expression on Valen’s face when he realized the type of noble he’d be spending the next three weeks with.
On the way, the carriage would stop occasionally to allow you to rest and refresh yourself, giving you the chance to stretch your legs and spine. Every time, however, Valen followed behind no more than a few steps in the distance. If you decided to wander off while the others set up a temporary campsite, then Valen was there with arms crossed over his chest and artificial pleasantry. “Dinner is ready, princess; it’s not much to compare to your castle meals, but something is better than nothing,” he’d told you when a messenger relayed the message to him while the two of you strolled across a field of wildflowers.
“Thank you, but I will have to decline. I don’t believe I could stomach such foods like this,” you responded, meaning that your stomach had been knotted with anxiety, dissuading you from wanting to eat. But to Valen’s ears, he took your words to be belittling, thinking you believed yourself too good to eat the food of the common people. Although he nodded reassuringly, he felt a flash of annoyance from your pompous personality. To be fair, however, he’d already expected this from you. In his experience, most nobles were all the same, treating all others who were unequal to their status with disdain or disregard—it wasn’t far from your state as a royal. If it weren’t for the good name of the knights and General Hogan’s direct commands, he’d most likely be long gone by now, partaking in a clever way to escape his responsibilities.
By the time the traveling group had been about half a day from reaching their destination, you had secluded yourself inside the carriage to rehearse your dealings without a word to the others. This had led them all to think you were simply brooding at the prospect of the heavy work that awaited you, to which Valen indulged as he sat back against a tree nearby with the others gathered around the campfire. If you wouldn’t come out, then he wouldn’t chase you, and that was fine with him. He was better off assisting the other gourds than giving you unappreciated company.
“Will the princess be dining with us?” One of the lower-ranking foot guards questioned the knight.
“Probably not. She’s too busy drowning in her woes involving facing life outside the castle to even consider eating. But I’ll make sure to save some for her in case she gets hungry later on. It might be better if she eats inside the carriage anyway,” Valen responded with a shrug of his shoulders.
It wasn’t until the very moment that you’d finally arrived at the gates of the foreign kingdom that you pulled back the small curtain of the carriage and peeked your head out, whispering to get the knight’s attention, “Sir Valen… Could you come inside for a moment?”
Surprised by the timid tone of your voice, the knight immediately followed your request, hopping onto the moving cart and pulling open the door before settling inside with a whoosh of wind. “What is it, princess? Is something wrong?”
You shook your head. “I wanted to practice my delivery. I’ve been drafting it this entire time, so I feel like it’s the best I could come up with at this point, but from the perspective of a citizen, I’d like to hear your opinion. This negotiation between nations not only affects Holistone’s commerce but the people as well, so it must be as perfect as it can get with as minimal consequences as possible. Are you ready?”
Your words completely took the knight aback. You’d been practicing this whole time? More than that, you appeared to actually care about the others outside the royal family, which was a trait that few nobles shared. This was certainly not the plot twist he’d expected, but still, he kept himself wary. This one trait wouldn’t make up for all the others you carried; he knew not to expect more from you. So, with a nod of his head and an adjustment to the way he was sitting, he showed attentiveness as he listened to your points. From the sound of your voice, he could hear the subtle nervousness, and with his keen eyesight, he noticed the way you fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. He was beginning to assume he’d misjudged you. That, or public speaking, just wasn’t your strong suit.
In any case, Valen took all your sentences in with a hand on his chin as he thought about the approaches you were taking. “Not bad for your first royal business plan. If I could offer some advice,
“Please, do.”
This spurred a heavy conversation between the two of you throughout the entire duration of the ride from the kingdom gate to the castle. If you had a moment to think about anything other than the dealings you would be making, you would have realized that that was the first proper talk you had with the knight who protected you. Sitting down with him before you, a voice in the back of your mind whispered in question if the knight had always been this handsome or if his patience with you distorted your opinion of him in the moment.
When the time came to disembark, you took a deep breath and said, “For our people, wish me luck." Then you were watching Valen step out first, checking the surroundings before stretching out his hand to you for support as you stepped off in your heavy clothing. From that moment forward, you’d worn your best face, interacting amiably and respectably with the royal family of the foreign castle in hopes that they’d take a liking to you and not hassle you during business negotiations.
In a week’s time, you spent every waking moment with the other nobles, getting to know them and their culture. Your interest in them allowed the king to understand that Holistone was a peaceful kingdom and wouldn’t use the establishment of the Knights in their lands against them. It also wouldn’t disadvantage them to have arms in trade. So by the final day of your stay, all contracts were made, signed, and sealed with a copy for each kingdom to have. Roused by a thrill that nearly burst through your seams, you excused yourself from the King’s side for a moment with the excuse of relieving yourself just so that you could rush to your bedroom and revel in the good news.
Your first act as a princess was alone, with the expectations of your father on your shoulders, and you’d done well enough to succeed! For years, you’d strived to make your family understand that you could do this, and finally, you had the opportunity to show them. It was enough to make you want to jump on the bed.
If Valen, who always worked within the shadows, noticed how excited you were, he hadn’t said anything. Simply chuckling at how you were almost skipping in your steps with eyes shining brightly. In all these days at the castle that he’d spent watching you, he noticed your complete behavior change; no longer were you sticking your nose up tersely at the sight of them or displaying a near-constant, almost present frown between your eyebrows. Instead, you smiled often, showing kindness even to the maidservants who assisted you throughout the day. At first, he’d considered this to be a superficial act to gain the favor of the king. However, on that day that one of the king’s child princes took you through the gardens and over to the servants’ area, he realized that was not the case.
If anything, the character you displayed on your way here seemed to be the outlier, but for the life of him, Valen couldn’t understand why. What was the reason for you to behave as detachedly as you did? Was it that you had to play a part in front of the eyes of the people of Holistone? Why did you so easily accept snacks from a tiny servant boy and eat heartily when, with your soldiers, you had turned your head away? Every new corner of you that he discovered only made him more confused. He would have to wait until they traveled back home to see the truth of your gentleness.
With negotiations coming to an end, it was time to bid farewell to your new acquaintances. With promises to visit, you said your goodbyes to the little princes before professionally doing the same for the king and queen. Setting off had you sighing inside your carriage, looking at all the parting gifts the king had given you. You hadn’t expected so many; even the outside of your carriage had been strapped with boxes of spices and trinkets—all of which were special only to the foreign kingdom. It made you feel guilty that you’d only prepared a small thank-you gift in advance.
A knock on your door sounded, pulling you out of your thoughts before the curtain was lifted. “Words from our scouts ahead say the path we took here has been blocked by hypofiend activity. So, we’ll have to take another route for your safety, princess. On the bright side, this new route is still convenient, passing even roads. However, on the not-so-bright side, it might take a little longer to rerun since it strays away from a straight line.”
"This is fine; we have more than enough supplies to keep us all resourced for a few extra days. So long as we are safe, then the extra distance is no matter," you responded with a nod. Against his beliefs, you agreed easily to the change of plans with not so much of a complaint. The knight had started to believe he really had misjudged you, and he almost felt bad. But when you asked him if that was all before dismissing him from you, he fell right back to square one: truly conflicted.
Not that it mattered to him anyway; after all, he was only the knight sworn to protect you, not your friend. If he went this whole trip never finding out who you truly were, then that was the effect of your own behavior. With a hand running through his hair, he stepped off the carriage step before reuniting with the other knights in front to discuss the adjustment in route.
Alone once more, you were left to face your internal dialogue. With the heavy concerns gone from your mind, no longer distracting from your own hands in front of you, you realized something. Valen was not at all how you'd pinned him to be at the beginning of your journey. While you hardly missed his sarcastic pleasantry or exasperated remarks, he never treated you wrongly—in fact, his quibbles had dissipated with the time he spent with you in the castle. Because of his earlier actions, you assumed him to be superficial in his character, only treating you well out of obligation. This led you to detach yourself from him because you simply couldn't afford distractions during such an important time. But the more you familiarized yourself with him, the more you realized that his behavior must have been his retaliation to you. You couldn't deny that you may have seemed particular during the beginning days and slowly regretted rejecting his companionship, but simultaneously, was the circumstance one you could be blamed for? Perhaps you would have to apologize to all the others later on. For now, tiredness seeped into your body, and your lack of sleep caught up to you.
What awoke you hours later was the abrupt quaking of the carriage. Immediately, the sounds of shouting filled your ears, fully rousing you as you jumped to look out the carriage window. Just outside, you saw the foot guards scrambling past you, forming a defensive arch around the front of the transport. Panic filling you, you moved to push open the door with all your might but found it locked. What in the world was happening? You couldn't see the front center from the angle you looked out, but when the reverberation of swords being drawn cut through the air, you understood an attack was taking place.
Unable to just sit back, you worked to remove the crinoline you wore, hoping that without it, you would be able to fit through the window. But your plans were cut short when Valen appeared in front of you, speaking at you from outside: "Princess, stay inside; it's too dangerous anywhere else."
"Sir Valen! What's happening?!"
"It looks like some thugs were drawn in by the fancy goods attached to the cart. It's nothing we can't handle, though," the man responded, turning forward to guard the door from all sides.
"Let them have it! I'd much rather lose material than lives." You replied, your fingers grasping the edge of the window as you spoke.
Valen shook his head, giving you a side smirk as he said, "Nonsense. General Hogan would revoke my sword if I couldn't even protect you from some small-time bad guys. Don't worry, princess. This isn't anything we're unprepared for. Just stay inside, and don't try to come out."
With that, he ran off to join the fight at the front, leaving you behind with an exasperated expression. Sit here and do nothing?! How could you live peacefully if you returned home with fewer souls than you'd departed with? No, you wanted to help.
Struggling, you continued to undo the heavier, decorative parts of your dress before shimmying out the window. Before you could get halfway out, however, a sudden force knocked you back in, pushing you to the carriage floor with a grunt. The breath in your lungs was knocked out as you stared wide-eyed at the pitch-black creature that clawed its arm into the carriage. Its seemingly oozing skin flashed before your eyes as its sharp, taloned hands swiped at your face, leaving you frozen in fear. Nothing could have prepared you for the appearance of the massive hypofiend, roaring ferociously at its missed attempts to attack you. With all the others distracted ahead, there was no one left to see your apparent demise, yet all you could think about was what your father would say. Would he blame himself for sending his only daughter out on his behalf? Who would be the one to tell him the news of your stolen life? How could you ever thank him for giving you this chance to expand your life horizons, allowing you to meet people and learn customs you otherwise never would have experienced locked away in your room?
When the hypofiend captured the fabric of your dress, you reeled back, kicking at the thrashing arm as your functions instantly returned to you. As fast as you could, you maneuvered yourself to the farthest corner of the carriage and desperately searched for a defensive weapon. With nothing but the small box of rare spices given to you by the king, you lunged forward, dodging the thrashing claws to throw the spice contents into the hypofiend's single, oversized eye. Reactively, the monster tore the air with a bone-chilling scream, finally gaining the attention of the knights. They were too far away to interfere, though by the time they came close enough, the beast had viciously pushed the carriage away, making it fall onto its side and causing the attached components to scatter the surrounding land. Through the motion, you felt your head slam against one of the solid surfaces, making your vision swim, but with the adrenaline coursing through your body, you forced yourself to stay steady.
Shakily, you reached for the window that faced the sky and pulled yourself out, letting your body fall to the dirt ground with a thud. A ringing in your ears made the approaching footsteps almost inaudible to you, causing you to react slowly when your footguards surrounded you, fretting over your state in a chaotic state. You wanted to tell them all that you were fine so they wouldn't worry about you, but your throat felt constricted. The formation of words felt difficult for your tongue, and you could only mutter out incoherent sounds.
"Everyone clear out," you heard the lead knight say. "You, move ahead and inform the king of what happened. You scout ahead for the nearest city. Look for a doctor or someone of equal skillset and let them know I'm taking the princess. The rest of you should regroup and reorganize our belongings. Head back to the foreign castle if need be."
Salutes sounded in every direction as the other knights scurried to fulfill their responsibilities, leaving you to be taken into Valen's arms. As fluidly as he could, he set you on a nearby horse before climbing up behind you and readjusting you to lay against his chest. A flick of the reins had the horse kicking off into a gallop in a direction you couldn't discern.
"Stay with me, princess. We'll be there soon," Valen said.
You curiously wondered what the theatrics were for; you felt fine! Even though your body is not currently responding to you, the mere fact that you still hold consciousness should be a relief, right? But no one seemed to think so, especially not Valen, who continuously looked down to check on you, spurring the poor horse faster each time. Eventually, you felt yourself dozing off into the warmth of your body—or was it his? You weren't really sure. All you knew was that it was comforting, and you were quite tired.
When the two of you finally burst into the small village of people, Valen spotted an elderly man awaiting his arrival next to the scout he had sent out earlier. Without letting the horse come to a full stop, he scooped you up in his arms and slipped off, rushing to the hut the doctor directed him into. The wound on your head had left stains all across his arms and chest. He worried beyond reason as he urged the frail doctor to work as quickly as he could. His heart had run cold when he realized you had passed out a few miles away, but when the doctor confirmed a pulse, he felt his back weaken from the disappearance of his despair. At this, the doctor ushered the knight out of the room, instructing him to go wash up and get some rest himself so that he wouldn't cause you anxiety when you awoke.
And you did awaken, but not until half a day had passed. When you opened your eyes blearily, you were met with a strange environment you hadn't recognized.
"Oh? Awake already, young lady? How do you feel?" A soft voice spoke to you from your bedside, drawing your attention to an old man wearing a white robe. In your consciousness, he drew out a listening instrument to check your heart rate and breathing.
"Like lead," you admitted, your head throbbing with a dull ache. "Where am I? What happened?"
"It seems you and your husband were attacked. You suffered from head trauma, giving you a concussion that made you lose consciousness for about 12 hours," the old doctor explained. This news sobbed you up, and you looked around to see the time of day.
"Calm down, young miss. You'll still be suffering from the effects of your concussion, so it's best not to make any sudden movements or raise your stress levels. Your husband is in the other room; I'll fetch him for you if you continue resting."
The doctor's words confused you, but at the moment, so many other things did as well. You weren't sure which part to focus on! A flood of questions filled your mind as you laid your head back onto the soft pillow, taking a deep breath to calm down. You needed to find one of your guards—wait, where were they?!
At the same time, another spike of concern shot through your body, and you heard the sliding door open softly. From behind it stepped Valen, who looked…not so good.
"Sir Valen?" you called, "what happened? You look a little worse for wear."
"I could say the same for you too, princess. You gave us all quite the scare," the knight said with a small smile. You motioned for him to come in to sit besides you. "How are you feeling?"
You made a face: "The doctor asked me the same thing; I feel fine if I ignore the fuzzy feeling. Although he did diagnose me with a concussion, I do suppose that's not out of the ordinary. So then, I feel perfect."
"I didn't take you for someone to make jokes during a time like this," Valen responded, his hands crossing over his chest just as they had the very first day you met him. You only smiled sheepishly and said, "Apologies. I don't like to worry about others. It doesn't invalidate my statement, however."
The knight only sighed, shaking his head as he pulled the stool beside your bed to sit down. He began to recount the events that took place, from the moment of the ambush to your injury, before finishing off with scenes from this morning. As he spoke, his eyes constantly flitted to the bandage wrapped around the crown of your head, disrupting your normally regal appearance. You took in everything he said with slow nods, asking questions between his sentences in inquiry about all the others, which he couldn't help but discourage.
"Princess, with all respect," he said, "you're literally in the hospital right now. I'm sure the others are fine, so you shouldn't concern yourself with that for now. Taking care of yourself isn't such a bad thing."
His words made him realize that he'd told you to do the one thing he assumed you had always done as a noble: look out for yourself only. It took him aback slightly, making him pause his words to stare at you with clear eyes. You returned his gaze with a questioning one that he dismissed with a clear clearing of his throat.
If he reflected on this later, then he might realize his change of heart towards you, moved by all that you continued to show him. He might even understand why he felt a death grip of panic clutching his heart when he saw you on the ground, hurt by the villainous monster. Perhaps he would even realize that when the doctor revealed to him that his wife was awake, he hadn't hesitated to get up and see you, not for a single second, questioning why the title felt so natural.
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