#insecure at the start but i wanted to end with fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heegyukeluv · 25 days

Text

I offer you my everything (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy.

my's note: i loved working in this so much. also i wanna emphasize that for god’s sake do not “lose” your virginity due to pressure or anything related to others. do it because you want to!! take your time, there’s no such thing as being too old for it neither need to rush. you have to enjoy it! that being said, i hope you enjoy this writing 🤭

warnings: fluff, pet names, explicit language, reader is insecure about having sex and some other things, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, virginity loss, kinda pillow princess reader (she doesn’t know what to do, so she just lay down and enjoy), protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), quick handjob. lmk if I missed something!

wc: 21k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Entering college was your dream come true.

There was a whole fantasy of how your life would change for the better, the new ways of seeing life, dealing with problems – new problems!, meeting new people, going to university parties, starting your adult life. Everything sounded ethereal, almost utopian, and although you were a very down-to-earth type of person, you never stopped your imagination from flowing through the excitedly new unexplored area.

You used to have a very simple and ordinary life in your hometown, going to school everyday, getting great grades, not really engaging with romantic relationships and having a normal amount of friends and people who cared about you.

Your parents were good people but quite strict with how you should live your life. It wasn’t much of a problem because whatever they were afraid of you getting into and “losing yourself” wasn’t really your cup of tea; you never really cared about having a boyfriend or a girlfriend – and your dad vehemently explained to you how disappointed he would be if you started to date someone with no goals in life or whatever. Doing drugs was way out of your interests, but you were very curious about the whole alcohol thing. And well, you wanted to become a journalist one day, so you pretty much studied for it and made your parents proud of you.

Overall your life was very… vanilla. And a strong part of you wanted it to be a bit spicy.

Not in an exaggerated way – and you had no problem with who wanted their lives to be –, nevertheless you wanted to really live the university experience, so your first months in college were actually dreamy, especially for being away from your parents’ grip and finally trying the taste of what freedom felt like.

You met your classmates and respectives professors, you got to know better about the available clubs and how to enter them, and you met your roommate, Ryujin, which thankfully ended up having enough common interests with you to make a healthy friendship grow.

Making friends wasn’t a big problem to you as well, because even though you normally showed a very reserved version of yourself at the beginning, people around you just fell for your charms naturally, wanting to be close to you for your aura at first and then because of how supportive and funny you were once they got to know you better.

Now, in your second year, you already had a spot on a small group of friends, who everyday would try to meet during lunch time to catch up on things and not freak out with the amount of assignments they were dealing with.

The conversation always flowed nicely, you never felt insecure about sharing a piece of your mind with them since they listened to you well. You were really glad to have people like that in your daily life.

However, there was a single topic that you often would shut up about to avoid being the center of attention, and the said topic was an ongoing conversation right at that moment.

“I need to get laid,” Julie, one of your closest friends, said in a very dramatic way. You forced a smile that you were pretty sure that looked very awkwardly placed on your face.

You could feel your heart beating fast with the idea of you becoming the subject in that conversation.

“What you really need is a good night's sleep,” Yunjin added with a chuckle, patting Julie’s head who shot a slightly upset look back at her.

“For that I need to sit on someone. Like, I can literally feel my body aching for a dick,” she explained, keeping the drama in her tone as if she was sick. There was a reason for Julie to be in the theater club afterall.

“For God’s sake,” Yunjin muttered, rolling her eyes but not really bothered by her friend’s behavior. She was pretty much used to it at this point, and well, quite the same but with girls.

You just watched as they both bickered with each other, hoping for you to stay out the fire and wondering when that conversation would finally become just a reminiscence of your day.

There was no shame on you for being a virgin. It was quite literally your choice since having sex was your last priority during your teenage years although you had guys interested in you in that aspect.

You weren't expecting the right one, your prince charming, nor to get married before. You just never cared much about having sex, and once you started to care you never felt comfortable enough with someone to show yourself so vulnerable, so openly like sex seemed to be.

Once your university life started to kick in and attending parties became a part of your weekends, you really thought that you would finally be able to free yourself enough to have someone with you in a bed, naked, doing sexual things or whatever. But what really happened was you feeling endlessly frustrated with yourself for panicking, finding lame excuses to run away from the possibility of having sex every time a makeout session started to be a bit more intense.

Alongside that often reaction of yours, you went through a tough moment with a specific guy, one you let yourself comfortable around, leading to you one day being in his bedroom while sharing a passionate kiss. With the amount of reassurance he showed you through the whole moments you were just flirting, you thought that sharing that you never had sex before wouldn’t be a problem. He was about to undress you from your bra when you told him, and then he halted his movements, overreacting as he said “I’m no sex teacher to teach college girls how to have sex”.

You never felt so humiliated in your whole life. Not only it became a trigger but also a new thing to overthink; the fact that some guys would see you as too innocent for their sex drive, refusing to do anything with you.

Nevertheless, you were still a woman with desires, with a libido waiting to be directed and mostly, curiosity.

Your mind would flee to dirty, lascivious places whenever you saw a character you found attractive, such as actors, singers or even real life crushes, sometimes doing the bare minimum but still sparkling in your sexual self, wetting your panties – and in those days you blamed your ovulation.

But the moment you tried to fulfill your fantasies with real people, your body refused to relax, your mind never stopping from the constant overthinking about either disappointing or just showing how inexperienced in the practical area you were, ending up embarrassing yourself.

Since you also never looked out for the help of your friends, none of them knew about that part of your life and you always shared a silent feeling of gratitude for the lack of their interest in that area.

The whole theme being a main focus on conversations constantly made you pretty uncomfortable, because everyone showed to enjoy their sexual lives fully, without any problems like you.

Although you had very incredible friends that you could rely on, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety of being judged by them, so you always opted to stay quiet or managed to redirect the discussion.

As if someone had listened to your prayers, you noticed another friend of yours – Jake – coming in your direction with a big smile, his backpack hanging loose off his shoulders and someone a bit too familiar alongside him.

You waited for them to be closer to try to recognize the strange and… Shit.

Your breath got stuck in your airlines when you realized that the guy with Jake was Lee Heeseung.

Your eyes followed how he took a seat in front of Jake, who sat beside you. None of your friends stopped the playful argument when they both arrived at the table, and for a little while you were glad for that, because you for sure couldn’t hide your surprised face and sudden dizziness for having Heeseung that close, looking unnecessarily attractive with his usual sly grin, messy black hair and strong presence.

Heeseung was the basketball captain of your university team.

You harbored a love for sports since childhood, not in a way of being a player but a watcher. During the first weeks of college you discovered that your university had a basketball team and you got really intrigued. Since then, it became your hobby to go over and watch them practicing during your free time or just to study for a while using the sound of balls bouncing on the floor as a background.

It was during one of your study days that you first met Jake, when he accidentally threw a ball in your direction and although you safely dodged, he insisted on taking you to what he called a date, but you weren’t much interested in him like that so you two became friends.

Jake was definitely hot, but, well… You had a big crush on the very much attractive ace of the team.

His movements looked meticulously calculated as if he had control of every part of his body, his pretty smiley face whenever he scored a point making your heart miss a few beats, not to mention the shameless winks he gave towards the girls who were watching the match just to make them scream. His overall performance was just sensational, making you wonder if the hands that were harshly used to grip the ball would grip your hips the same way.

Yeah, one of the in real life crushes you would get wet just by thinking about.

You forced yourself to believe that you had everything under control, since crushing on Heeseung was a waste of time and a sentence to have your heart shattered. You knew about his fuckboy reputation and definitely wasn’t planning on being the talk of the week of the “lucky girl that Heeseung fucked” or anything similar, neither wanted to face the consequences of getting involved with him – the amount of gossips going around with your name would increase considerably as people would try their best to destroy your self-esteem.

Or at least that’s what you heard from your friends, wondering for a long time if people were exaggerating just because of jealousy.

You weren’t that desperate to lose your virginity, although the thought of losing it to Heeseung seemed quite interesting – but, again, impossible.

Heeseung's existence in your life always resembled to be like an idol. Not in a sense of you idolizing him, but as someone you were intrigued by, loving to watch him by far, never getting close enough given that nothing could even happen between you two, especially because how would two different worlds collide like that?

So in your own defense of how your body was reacting, no one prepared you to be so close to him without a previous warning, even with the fact that Jake was friends with Heeseung. Your brain just insisted on forgetting that eventual possibility.

“What are you guys talking about?”

And then you really panicked.

You also forgot that Jake was pretty much a gossiper and would rather know what the table was talking about instead of bringing another new subject to it. And now there was Heeseung sitting with all of you, making it harder to breathe and to focus on any other thing. You could feel the sweat dampening your armpits, the idea of you having to talk about your sexual life haunting you to death at that moment.

“Me getting laid,” Julie answered with a cheeky smile.

“Oh,” Jake was taken back with her quick and honest response, you could notice by the way he slightly widened his eyes. Heeseung just laughed. And what a pretty fucking laugh.

“Don’t act like you never fucked in your life, Jake,” Yunjin said narrowing her eyes skeptically, adding to the fuel.

You felt your cheeks and the top of your ears burning. And not only that, there was a very intense gaze right towards you that you refused to look up to meet. The scrunched napkins on the table looked way more interesting than anything else at that moment.

“I’m still not used to all your… Openness,” he motioned with his hands as he explained. You mentally cursed Jake’s oblivious self for giving Julie the right words for her to be even more blatant in her dramatic speech.

“Oh boy, I really wish I’d be open–”

“Julie!” Yunjin now screamed flabbergasted with Julie’s audacity, laughing loudly and smacking her friend's shoulder while you hid yourself in your hands, fully embarrassed. You couldn’t hold back a small, kind of a relieved laugh because the topic apparently was about to end.

You heard Heeseung chuckling with them and decided to search for his eyes just to meet them already on you, shamelessly checking you out. You instantly avoided his not a little soft glances at your chest and lips, but not with enough time to fail to perceive how he bit his bottom lip while still smiling.

“Care to present your friend?” Yunjin directed the question to Jake when she stopped laughing.

“I thought you already knew Heeseung,” Jake sounded confused.

“We do, but I don’t know if Y/N do,” she explained, pointing to you.

Now every pair of eyes on the table was on you and normally that wasn’t a big deal, you loved the attention your friends gave whenever you were the one speaking. But Heeseung being the owner of one of those pairs made it difficult for you not to blush harder.

“O–oh,” you damned yourself for stuttering, swallowing nothing. “I actually know him too, yeah. I– I watch the uni basketball practices sometimes.” You tried to sound cool, forcing a very awkward smile, but your voice was so obviously nervous you just wished no one would notice.

However, Heeseung’s lips curved into a smirk told you that he, at least, noticed. And was enjoying seeing you so flustered.

“I’ve seen you there a few times”, it was his first words since he sat with your group, his voice sounding quite different from when you normally heard him – screaming in the basketball court with his teammates to hype them up.

Your heartbeat was loud inside your chest, and you wondered if the reason behind was because of Heeseung’s intense presence, or how dreamy his voice sounded, or the fact that he had perceived you in his games. All the options sounding very unnecessarily smitten to you, who usually knew your place, grounded with your feelings, but apparently not with Heeseung and his charming face.

Jake nodded, smiling cutely at you. But not a cutely you enjoyed seeing; it was a mischievous grin. You gulped.

“Heeseung insisted on sitting with us today, saying he wants to get to know you better,” Jake nudged your shoulder with his’, wiggling his eyebrows while the girls hummed teasingly at you.

You widened your eyes, your cheeks with a tone of red spreading all over. You noticed Heeseung’s cherry colored lips still with a petty grin, his eyes slightly hooded as he faced you. That alone was enough to get yourself worked up, sending signals directly to your cunt.

You literally clenched around nothing just because Heeseung smirked at you while holding eye contact.

Of course you would react like a teen that just got a confession from her crush mixed with a pervert that never had sex in her life and got horny by little things – which, in part, was true.

Nevertheless, hearing Heeseung laugh along with Jake’s next words completely dashed your hopes and your arousal away.

“I’m joking. It’s funny and cute how you always react with things like this.”

You now had to blink a few times to recompose yourself just enough to fake a smile, trying not to demonstrate that your panties were a bit damp and you, frustrated.

“Not funny to play with a girl's feelings, Jake,” Julie uttered when she noticed your slight discomfort.

Now it was the time to take your realistic persona and act out of the situation, as you pulled your best facial expression in order to cover your kind of hurted heart. “There are no feelings,” you urged to say with a forced laugh, failing to notice Heeseung’s smile dropping for a second. “Yeah, it’s funny now, but I’m pretty sure you were on the verge of crying when I refused to go with you on that date,” you cocked your head with a raised eyebrow facing Jake, watching his expression contort in all the five stages of grief at once, his lips parted with widen eyes at the end.

“You’re mean,” he whined and you laughed.

“Only for you,” and you gave him a little wink before standing up and gathering all your things on the table to put back on your backpack. “I gotta go now, see ya later?” You looked at your girl friends who just nodded and said a cute goodbye to you, avoiding eye contact with Heeseung as you did so.

As you made your way to your upcoming class, your mind automatically flooded with thoughts about what just happened; you yourself questioning for how long you would be able to hide your inexistent sexual life from your friends, or even if you should keep doing it, due the fact that they could help you get over your insecurities and apprehensions.

Besides, it was becoming quite unbearable to cope with the frustration of wanting, yearning, and desiring, yet never being able to make a move beyond it.

And since when would Heeseung pay genuine attention to you? You couldn’t deny that even with your head making sure to remind you of the unrealistic nature of things happening with Heeseung, your feelings seemed to have been crushed in a very hurtful way.

There was a part of you that believed a bit in the fantasy of him being a very warm and approachable guy who would do cute things with you, respect your space and time and also be the one who you have sex with.

On the other hand, you constantly reinforced the thought of being impossible and somehow weird. You felt weird. Like a true pervert of some kind.

You spent the whole class thinking about what Jake said and how Heeseung's eyes wandered your features with something very similar to what you saw in some other guys. Desire.

But at that point you comprehended that your mind had started to like to make things up. Jake was lying after all.

You just wished for your sentiments and needs to vanish quickly, or at least for you to be able to replace the person. In any case, you decided to avoid the basketball court for a few days.

Not showing up to watch the team’s practice and games did not prevent you from running into Heeseung almost everyday, which was the main reason behind your decision – to get over your silly little crush on him.

Apparently fate had other plans for you and you honestly didn’t know how to feel. Heeseung began to be part of your group hangouts alongside Jake, now being a regular presence to the point where your friends would frequently ask his whereabouts, as if everyone in the group suddenly grew a liking for him.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Apart from your tangled, weird feelings that for sure had something to do with how you envisioned him, Heeseung revealed to be a genuine sweet, caring person, easily breaking parts of your pre-concept about his stereotypes.

His “player” aura was fading little by little, even though his confident demeanor kept its place on his every move.

Heeseung had gleaming eyes shooting you the most flirtatious, intense gaze, with equal glistened lips adorning the most endearing smirk, enough to make you lose your words, to lose your mind. Not to mention how often his body leaned towards yours in order to give you full attention.

Heeseung would cock his head and glance at your lips whenever you were the one speaking, simple behaviors messing you over and over, tempting you to dive into the pool of the unexplored, the so lustful field you never let yourself do a proper investigation, too afraid of surrendering to your feelings and needs.

The more you got to know him, the harder it became to dismiss the growing admiration and longing feeling running all over your body. Heeseung wasn’t just some fleeting crush anymore. He became something you couldn’t name yet, still fuzzing your mind, the crawling sensation on your skin wanting more and more of whatever he had to offer – just a look, just a smile, just some words, just some gentle brush of skins. Anything.

At some point your chest started to palpitate just by the mention of his name, your blood running cold instantly as your whole posture changed, terrified of someone knowing about your feelings, about your dirtiest thoughts, about how he would visit your dreams at night to show you how much you craved his body.

God, you were so fucked up, so desperate, and nonetheless, hesitant.

Something strongly held you back, even with Heeseung’s attempts to become closer to you, asking direct questions to you, trying nonstop to get to know you better, just like Jake once told you he wanted to.

You never let him in. Not openly, not with your words, not in front of him – you refused to risk having a broken heart because Heeseung was simply being his normal self and you, seeing beyond his charming facade.

Heeseung had occupied a spot in your mind from day one, ever since his damp, sweaty hair stuck on his forehead together with a cocky smile seemed way too attractive to your eyes and you began to pay more attention to his existence. That was true. But you only allowed him to do his proper mess inside your head after de-idolizing him; after the looks he gave to every other girl started to have you as the main target, after his hands “accidentally” brushed on yours during your moments sitting side by side sending shivers throughout your body, after he questioned about how you day have been and actually paid attention to your answer, your stomach doing flips every time.

Heeseung was now part of your thoughts because he showed genuine affection and worry about you, without you asking for it. And alongside all of that, he was so fucking and unnecessarily hot.

But what if all of this was just a game? Just another girl he messes around with, playing with her feelings just because he can. Just because he's attractive and you're foolishly falling for him…?

…Falling for him?

“Stop overthinking,” Sunoo’s voice cut your roam of thoughts as he appeared out of nowhere, dropping his books on the table before sitting across you in the library, catching you totally off guard.

“Damn it, Sunoo!” You nearly screamed, covering your mouth to restrain it, ignoring the librarian's angry glare.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he chuckled softly. “But your frown is screaming at me, what’s on your mind?”

“Ahm, just some media ethics stuff, y’know–”

“Cut that off, sweetie. I’m not asking about your studies. You know that. I’m asking about your frown, your overthinking frown,” he said, gently pressing his finger on your forehead. “What’s really going on in there?”

You sighed.

The two of you had met in your first year when you realized you shared almost all your classes. Since then, Sunoo had become one of your closest friends – the trustworthy one, the always-down-for-anything one, and also the one who worried about you the most. He was a comforting presence, someone you could rely on to listen to your concerns and anxieties without judgment.

Still, despite this, you felt nervous. Your eyes darted around searching for any eavesdroppers, a few students scattered throughout the library, deeply focused on their studies, oblivious to your conversation. Yet your tense nerves inhibited you from sharing your true worries as you opened and closed your mouth a few times without being able to talk.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Sunoo asked softly, eyes offering you comfort as he held your hands and caressed them.

You nodded, watching his body instantly lifting up from his seat to help you grab your things and his own, snatching your hand with his to drag you around the campus until you found a quiet place near some trees.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sunoo said as he leaned in one of the trees, watching your gaze avoiding his and your cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m having some troubles, personal problems, if I’m being honest…” Sunoo said nothing, just nodded his head in a reassuring way although you weren’t looking at him. “It’s–” you gulped. Your mind screaming at you to shut up, because you were certain he would make fun of you. Sunoo, the guy who always had people crushing on, definitely would not understand what you are going through. You searched for his eyes, just to find them filled with compassion. “I’m–” You shut your eyes searching for the best way of saying. “I’m a virgin,” you blurted out in a low tone, your face burning with embarrassment as you refused to open your eyes.

However, Sunoo's nonchalant reaction took you by surprise. “Okay, and?” Then you blinked a few times, trying to comprehend the lack of judgment. This was not what you prepared yourself for. “What’s the problem?” He sounded genuinely confused with your dumbfounded expression. “That’s all? I mean, if it’s really bothering you we can talk through it, but I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, sweetie…”

“So… You think that’s normal for a college girl to be a virgin? You don’t think it’s something to be weird or to be asham–”

“My dear Y/N,” he cut you off by holding your head softly to look directly into his eyes. “First of all there’s no such thing as what's normal or not normal when it comes to many things. Also, please never let someone make you feel ashamed of who you are or how you’ve chosen to live your life, ok?” Your honest reaction was to stare at Sunoo in astonishment. “Promise me, Y/N.”

“I promise,” your voice was muffled since he was holding you still.

“Now spill the real tea, because I’m pretty sure this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

So you vented out about everything running through your mind, your worries, your genuine curiosity mixed with a fear, how you were aching for something you were too afraid of getting – or letting yourself to get.

Relief ran throughout your body, as Sunoo made you comfortable enough to go subject by subject in order to help you name all of your nameless and confused feelings, including to situate where your expectations were set. You wanted your first time to be enjoyable, that’s for sure, so you had to be with someone who would help you erase your turbulent thoughts by reassuring you regularly – a one night stand type of thing was not an option, you realized with Sunoo.

You shared your apprehension on disappointing with your lack of experience, and to that Sunoo settled your nerves by saying “If the person respects you, you don’t have to worry about that,” and you discovered another name for what you wanted.

The anguish of not knowing what to do or where to go was slowly diminishing every time you labeled what previously you were able to describe only as a ‘bittersweet feeling of panic and desire’.

You also didn’t need to directly mention Heeseung, Sunoo himself brought his name after connecting the obvious dots of the said crush being Heeseung, especially since his glances at you and your reactions to it were anything but subtle.

“Don’t have to worry about that either, sweetie. I don’t think any of the others noticed it, they’re too oblivious sometimes,” Sunoo calmed you down after you almost cried due to your embarrassment of someone noticing your messed up self.

Something Sunoo said reverberated throughout your day as well. “You will always be a virgin if you don’t have sex. And if you’re afraid of having sex because you’re a virgin, it’s an unsolved paradox.”

Your talk with Sunoo eased your mind, but also introduced a whole new scenery of thoughts – gladly not anxious one. You were depriving yourself of your own pleasure, of your own desire. And perhaps the real reason was because you feared… liking it.

So after a good night of sleep, you decided to head out to your favorite place during your free time: the basketball court. Not necessarily to watch anything – or someone in particular, but to ponder what you had going through your head the whole night ever since Sunoo’s advices and sweet, reassuring words.

Of course your choice of place would lead you to probably bump into a specific someone, and part of you really hoped for that.

While you drank your iced coffee, you wondered if Sunoo was being serious when he said that the talk about Heeseung in most cases was disconnected with reality. He didn’t explain much about it, but what he said was enough to intrigue you.

“Hey,” a far, but known voice snapped you out of your trance, and instantly your whole body heated.

You watched Heeseung jogging in your direction, panting a big, sweat dripping off his temples and his arms in display for you since he was wearing a sleeveless shirt.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you here,” he said, shooting you a small smile, easily walking through the seats by skipping them with his long legs until he got closer.

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy,” you answered, fighting yourself not to tremble and to avoid glazing your eyes on his body, the team’s uniform looking gorgeous in contrast with his skin tone.

“Missed you, Y/N,” Heeseung talked with a gentle voice, his usual sparkly eyes growing wide as he realized what he just said. “I mean, I missed you being around, y’know,” he tried to play it cool and due to your nervous self, you barely noticed he was going through the same emotion.

He was so attractive, and for some reason the mix of his perfume with his sweat inebriated your air lines, making it a little difficult to breathe.

Little did you know that Heeseung was in a similar state, lost in how cute you looked that day, your comfy outfit and the single ponytail doing your face features justice by letting them shine with a natural beauty you carried confidently.

Heeseung noticed you on the very first day you appeared to watch a game. He normally paid little to no real attention to who watched his practice, the flirty glances and winks thrown at the crowd usually was just for fun and no one in particular, but your sudden appearance was overwhelming, his stomach did flips and his so focused self was faltering before your presence.

He had to take a good, long, cold shower after in the locker room to try to get over his exaggerated reactions. How does one get his heart pounding so fast, hands sweating and distracted concentration just because they are good looking?

He for sure knew plenty of attractive people, but none got his heart aching and his body craving like you did.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m the team’s lucky charm,” you acted out of your bubble a bit. That would be a normal saying by you, actually. But around Heeseung you worked differently, actions more withdrawn than ever, flustered by the fact that his focus was on you, and only you.

You barely had any moments alone with Heeseung, most of the time some friend of yours was engaged in the conversation as well, so to talk directly to him without having another person to cover up your nervous state was pretty difficult, especially by the way he held eye contact on you, as he was reading every bare piece of you.

“Yeah, I really don’t know what to do without you,” Heeseung put his hand on his heart dramatically as he said and you blushed, pushing his shoulder and avoiding looking at his face.

And well, he wasn’t lying.

Your constant attendance, whether to really pay attention to what was happening or just to quietly study as you regularly did, threw his mind into chaos. Heeseung had to physically restrain himself from jumping across the seats to ask for your number at first, your aura seeming a bit coy to him – not in an off putting way, but in a way that made him think you deserved someone better than what he could offer. Alongside that, he believed there was no way a hot, beautiful and smart girl like you would pay any attention to him.

It wasn't like Heeseung was insecure, he knew his strengths and how to work with them. A line of girls would eagerly wait for a chance to spend a night with him, though he never went that far with many of them, choosing carefully who he led to his room or allowed in his life.

Nevertheless, the feeling of having that kind of attention was addicting. To feel desired by them fed his ego, he never denied that.

That alone convinced Heeseung that you, out of all his options, would never let him taste a crumb of what he really wanted from you.

And then there was the moment he got to know about Jake being friends with you.

His instincts told him to give up, but he had to try, a demeanor similar to a man who never saw a woman in his life before, just to get a little bit of whatever you would give to him.

Heeseung grew obsessed with your presence, with you. Yet never bold enough to do much about it, too afraid of your so certain rejection. Then you suddenly disappeared and he missed you like crazy, to the point of befriending your friends simply to have a bit of your presence in his daily life.

To get you know better did no good to his health at all. He got enthralled by your sarcastic, funny personality, your endearing laughs and genuine love for your friends, spilling through your actions and words, always supporting them without losing your humor.

Heeseung got a small taste of how it feels to have you around and he grew addicted – even more than for the feeling of being desired by many, more thrilling than the praise for his performance or the rush of winning a game. At the end of the day, Heeseung wanted your attention and your praises.

After realizing it, he decided to step up on his game.

“So…” Heeseung cleared his throat after your silence. “Are you free later?”

The question itself had nothing openly implied, just a normal, simple and direct ask. But God, why did your heart started to beat so fast? Why did your face felt like fire burning all over it?

You forced yourself to meet Heeseung's gaze, his eyes filled with anticipation and eagerness, just like your reply could change the whole path of his life.

“Ahm, yeah, kinda. Why?”

You watched as his expression lighted up and how he tried to hold back his smile while scratching the back of his neck. Spotting Heeseung apparenting to be nervous ignited a different, sudden feeling inside you, as if you now understood that you affected him in some way. Or that he was a very good actor.

“I was wondering if you would like to come over to my place– We’re going to throw a small party, so it’d be cool to have you there,” he nodded to himself, proud for not stuttering at all. When did inviting a girl to a party become that hard?

Unfortunately for him, you paid close attention to his behavior and body language, how he avoided looking at your eyes even though he was the king of maintaining eye contact while speaking and how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as if he swallowed hard. All the pieces together put you in a new position, one that you felt confident enough to play on his game.

“A party, huh?” You showed him a smile before biting your bottom lip and tilting your head to the side, as if you were thinking about his invitation, Heeseung’s eyes catching every movement and your eyes catching his not a bit subtle glances. “I’ll try to fit you in my schedule.”

And you gave him a wink as you stood up to go back to your dorm without waiting for a response, knowing that your sudden courage would not last long to keep it going, not even realizing you left Heeseung in a total speechless form.

Attending a party alone was not something common to your lifestyle at all, same as accepting going on one just because of an acquaintance of yours.

Usually your friends – Yunjin or Sunoo, in particular – would be the ones to tag you along, since you liked to go out but never got that extroverted side to be directly invited; you didn’t even bother to care much, because as said before, your friends were the ones in charge to lead you to the places.

In addition to that, not only would you have a company so you would not feel alone, but also a friend nearby to look after you – though your alcohol tolerance was pretty high, you didn’t trust yourself to make sound decisions sober, let alone drunk.

Later on, Heeseung messaged you saying you could invite the girls and Sunoo, but to your misfortune and as if fate was tricking you, all of them had other plans and left you hanging this time. Yunjin encouraged you to go by yourself, since Jake would probably be there as well as Heeseung, so you gathered all the courage you had left and decided to go.

Nevertheless, Heeseung wasn’t necessarily your friend yet.

You both shared information about each other during the time he hung out with you and your friend group, enough for you to know his degree and some of his life interests like favorite movies, music and the fact he was a chronic gamer.

Whilst you didn’t trust him enough to have your back if needed to, there was something on the way he oftenly treated you that broke down your doubtful barriers with ease, not only by his respectful manners but also by his desirable glances. Heeseung would look at you with a perfect mix of endearment and craving, like he wanted you so bad he would do anything, but never crossing the line, waiting for you to make the first move.

It was reassuring in some type of way, to feel wanted and at the same time, respected. Upon this conclusion, you felt confident enough to cross the opened door and to enter the house, hearing the loud music boosting through the speakers as a bunch of people danced to it, some of them seeming way too drunk already.

The fluttering sensation in your stomach showed you not only the fear of being by yourself, but mostly the obvious, expected acknowledgment you would eventually bump into Heeseung.

Before you could walk your way to the kitchen to get something to drink – a shot of courage, maybe, someone gave you a sudden bear hug and by the drunken voice you noticed it was Jake.

“You came!”

“Yeah!” You answered with the same pitch, hugging him back, relieved that your whole internal dilemma ended quickly. Or you thought so. “You look kinda drunk,” you stated the obvious with a sarcastic tone, sly smile at him when he pulled out of the hug.

Jake literally giggled as a response and wrapped his free arm around your shoulder, dragging you around, his other hand occupied holding his cup.

“Let me introduce you to my friends, you introduced me to yours so it’s only fair if I do the same, right?” You laughed at his very slurred words, as well as how cute he sounded having his cheeks flustered due to the alcohol.

However, when you realized that he was leading you to his friends – and Heeseung was his friend – you almost froze, stumbling a little on your legs while your whole body tensed. You damned Jake for not letting you take your shot of courage before.

“No need to be nervous,” Jake murmured close to your ear, his hands resting now on your waist as he continued to walk with you. The distance wasn’t that far, but Jake kept stopping to greet everyone along the way so it took you both double the time.

“I’m not–”

“You’re doing the face you do when you’re nervous,” he pointed out.

“Am I that easy to read?” You let out an awkward chuckle, feeling shy at how transparent your reactions were.

“Yeah,” he replied, causing you to now genuinely laugh at his sincerity. “You’ll like them. They already like you. Heeseung doesn’t shut up about you, so they're already familiar with who you are.”

What?

You had no time to think about his words or even react properly, a bunch of new friendly smiles greeting you.

“This is Sunghoon and Jay,” Jake indicated with his fingers to the ones sitting on the couch in the corner of the room. “The two over there are Riki and Jungwon,” Jake pointed with the hand that held his cup to the two who were standing and talking with each other, but when their names were mentioned they looked at you with curiosity. “And Heeseung you already know, but I don’t know where he is.”

Part of you felt relieved by Heeseung's absence, while another part was somewhat disappointed.

“Hey, you must be Y/N,” the one you understood as being Jay stood up to greet you with a hug, followed by Sunghoon.

“Enjoying the party so far?” The taller one asked, looking you directly into your eyes. You showed him a gentle smile as you answered.

“I kinda just arrived, so…” Sunghoon nodded, mouthing an ‘oh’ and sitting again on the couch although his gaze kept focused on you. You shook your head when he silently asked if you wanted to sit as well. “But I can say the music is pretty nice. Whoever chose the playlist has a good taste.”

“Thanks.”

You weren’t expecting to feel Heeseung’s presence close, right behind you. His sweet yet low voice making you shiver, a weird feeling tingling your skin.

“I chose the playlist.”

You gulped down your flustered self to turn around and address your attention to him, just to meet his signature flirty expression, this time a little more… softened. He shamelessly checked you out, eyes sparkling in interest as he tried to hold back his smile, disguising it with a small smirk.

His outfit took your breath away, as he wore a black dress shirt that had the first two buttons open and a beautiful silver chain necklace contrasting his slightly tanned skin, every move of his tempting you to see what was underneath the clothing piece.

You saw how Heeseung’s Adam's apple moved up and down before he raised an eyebrow playfully when his eyes landed on your face again.

He paid attention to the way your cheeks turned into a soft shade of red that he was sure wasn't just because of your makeup blush, and damn, how could you look so hot with black skirt and an oversized black shirt? Your legs in full display to him to savor.

“You look pretty,” he complimented you, sincerity and a taste of desire evident in his tone. You smiled shyly, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks.

“Oh, thank you. You look great yourself,” you replied, and although you felt flustered for being that close to Heeseung, you didn’t hesitate to maintain eye contact, focusing the most you could not to falter.

Heeseung chuckled, his hands dipped in his pockets as he straightened his posture, quickly averting from your gaze before coming back to look at you again.

So gorgeous, his heart was beating unnecessarily fast just by seeing you and even faster because of your compliment.

“I’m glad to hear that, y’know, I was hoping to make a good impression,” the alcohol in his system made him a bit bolder than he normally was around you, his body leaning subtly closer to yours, his eyes taking the typical glances at your lips.

You huffed a flustered laugh, looking at him through your eyelashes. “You– You don’t have to try that hard, though,” you tried to speak confidently, and you actually did it, biting your lips as a way of restraining yourself from literally jumping on that hot, attractive, charming, man.

The little giggling noises behind your back made you aware that you were not alone with Heeseung to be that fearless, so you took a step back, suddenly feeling hesitant.

“You think so?” Heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t care about his friends, maintaining his flirty aura as he stepped closer to you, a playful grin adorning the corner of his glistening lips. However, he quickly caught the slight discomfort in your posture and decided to give you some space, backing off. “Well, next time I’ll just let my natural charm do the work, then,” he winked at you and casually sat on the couch arm beside Jay and Sunghoon.

You felt a bit out of your place, your wobbly legs not letting you do much and you awkwardly self not knowing exactly what to do. Jake was long gone already, lost in the sea of people while the other boys chatted between themselves. You stood near to the wall next to the other couch arm, engaging in the conversation as they asked you a few things in order to make you feel included. Eventually, Jungwon and Riki joined as well, bringing you a drink, and you got to know all of them better.

Throughout the entire time, Heeseung wasn’t subtle with his glances, eyeing you up and down, taking his sweet time appreciating your bare thighs and your lips whenever you spoke. And even when you caught him staring, he didn’t flinch, full of confidence, biting his lower lip just to wet it with his tongue right after, definitely not paying attention to their friends talking.

So excessively hot.

Heeseung was torn between awe and frustration. Having you so close, yet so out of reach was killing him inside – he wished for you to take the obvious hints he was giving of being so down to kiss you, his body aching in despair.

And he grew even more desperate and frustrated when Jungwon boldly asked you, “Do you wanna go dance with me?”

Heeseung watched the subtle surprise in your expression as your eyes flicked to him briefly, missing the silent plea for him to repeat what Jungwon had just said.

Still, you hesitated for another reason. Normally one of your friends would push you out of your shell to do what you wanted to, but were afraid of. But not only Jungwon's cute smile got into your heart, you also thought to yourself it was time to make your own decisions, even the simple ones like accepting or not a dance.

“Sure,” you agreed, grabbing the hand he offered you, following him to the makeshift dance floor.

Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t drift away from how your body moved with Jungwon’s precise lead, your hips synchronized with the rhythm, your happy smile lip syncing the song together with Jungwon. He watched his friend get closer to you to whisper something in your ear, making you laugh brightly, wishing to be the one to make you feel that way, to touch, to have you like that.

Heeseung was growing jealous of Jungwon’s demeanor around you, having his hands confidently resting on your waist, guiding you through the music with ease, whispering things he wished so badly to know what it was.

He knew he was shameless staring, Sunghoon mocking his reactions as he scoffed and rolled his eyes, annoyed by the sight of another man touching you.

“Why are Jungwon’s hands roaming all over her body like that?” He asked without taking you out of his sight.

“They’re just dancing, relax.” Sunghoon smiled playfully.

“Jungwon is just being nice to her,” Riki pointed out. “They share a few things in common and they both like to dance, so it was just a convenient situation, y’know? Nothing to worry about.” Riki tapped his friend’s shoulder.

“We all know the girl’s yours,” Jay said.

“She’s not mine.”

Yet, Heeseung completed it on his mind, but his friends knew all too well about that too.

On your side of the story, despite the warmth of Jungwon’s company, you couldn’t ignore the weight of Heeseung’s gaze, taking a glimpse once and a while of his so unreadable expression. You couldn’t figure out if it was anger or envy or desire or frustration, Heeseung showed you a mix of everything and, God, you wanted so badly for him to do something.

“Heeseung is looking at me like he’s going to kill me,” Jungwon whispered in your ear, and you laughed nervously.

“I hope he doesn't, you’re too nice and young to die.”

Jungwon chuckled at your response, and then noticed how your body tensed up suddenly. He followed your eyes and you both watched Heeseung’s tall figure standing up and walking towards you two.

“Mind if I cut in?” Heeseung’s voice was smooth, just like him. Your heart started to race too fast when Jungwon handed you to Heeseung.

“She’s all yours,” Jungwon winked, saying a quick goodbye to you and heading back to his friends.

Even with now being just the two of you, Heeseung didn’t touch you without your permission, partly because he was scared of not being able to control himself at all. He blinked a few times waiting for you to take the lead and his breath hitched when your hands went directly to rest on his shoulders.

You gave him a reassuring look, allowing him to touch you, and nearly melted when his fingers found their place on your waist, caressing the place gently as he slowly moved you both to the music. Every so often, your eyes would meet and each time you couldn’t help but blush and smile shyly before quickly looking away, Heeseung thinking how precious you seemed acting like that.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you started saying after the silence of your voices. “I’d love to dance with you a bit more, but I have to be honest, my social battery is pretty drained already,” your lips curved into a small, apologetic pout.

“Do you wanna go home?” He asked softly, bold hands now moving a bit more freely on your body. You shook your head, since going home equaled being away from his embrace. “Do you wanna get out of here?” You nodded cutely and he smiled, endeared by your behavior. “Come with me,” he said and kindly held your hand to lead you away from the party, not before stepping briefly in the kitchen to grab you both a drink.

Heeseung took you to the back of the house, being one of the owner’s he knew all the places where people could and couldn’t be, so a big part of you felt relieved for not having to deal with a crowd overwhelming your senses.

“You look quite tired,” he uttered with a hint of concern, as you both walked slowly through the backyard, way less people scattered through it as you just followed him without thinking much about it, focusing on your drink.

“Yep, I think I overworked my social battery today,” you answered with a chuckle. “But it was pretty fun, though. Your friends are really cool.”

“They are.”

You both stopped walking at some point, Heeseung nodded his head towards the low wall that surrounded the house for you both to sit on it, a very peaceful, quiet place to run away from the party chaos.

“What about you?” You asked curiously, tilting your head to catch his profile before he turned to face you.

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem to be the type to just sit back and watch the party,” you stated, swinging your legs as you finished your drink.

“Yeah? What do you think I should be doing then?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your perception about him.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, averting your eyes to anything but him when you said. “Banging with someone?”

“What!?” Heeseung exasperated, as if he was really offended. You laughed out loud with his extremely exaggerated reaction. “Is that what you think of me, Y/N?”

“Well, y’know, it’s kind of hard to think otherwise. Your reputation doesn't help much,” you explained and forced your best innocent look when your eyes rested on him again. You tried so hard not to laugh at his very deeply offended expression.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think I’m the person you think I am,” he huffed a laugh, biting his lips right after to glaze his eyes on you. “Don’t even know when was the last time I– Sorry,” he quickly interrupted himself with an embarrassed smile. “I might’ve overshared a bit.”

You shook your head, smiling away your fluster. “You’re fine. But it's still hard to believe.”

“You should ask my friends, then!” He was really trying to defend himself in this one. “Ask Jake!”

“And he’ll tell me what? That you have a long list of women you hooked up with?” You teasingly wigged your eyebrows, nudging him playfully.

“God, no,” he whined and you laughed at his adorable frustration.

You didn’t know it was this fun to tease Heeseung.

“How do I put this… Mhm,” he looked away, suddenly flustered. You were slightly surprised by his demeanor. It was the first time you witnessed Heeseung being something similar to shy. “I like to kiss,” your eyes grew wide and now was your time to be nervous. “So when I go to parties, I might be found kissing someone if I’m really in the mood, but just because I like to kiss, y’know?” He continued, shrugging, trying his best not to sound crazy to you. “And what I’ve noticed is that the people that I kiss, turn a simple makeout into something more when they talk about it, which almost never really happens if I’m being honest,” he paused. “I can count on my fingers how many women I’ve actually taken to my room.”

You swallowed hard, almost audibly gulped, a mix of sensations running throughout your body with his confessions.

“And I also enjoy the flirting, y’know. Their reactions flatters my ego,” this time he was so obviously teasing you after he noticed your embarrassment, finding it adorable how your cheeks got painted red.

You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulders in annoyance as he laughed. “I’m not joking, though,” he added. “But once I’m committed, I give up on all of that because I can only think about the person I’m liking.”

All that new information sent your brain into overdrive, unnecessarily attractive the way Heeseung’s voice got low at the end, as if he was telling you a secret, a lustful secret, shivers running all over your spine and you having no idea of what to do. You tried hard not to read between the lines. If you did, you would pick up on the message wrongly, because there was no way he was genuinely hitting on you.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Heeseung hurried to say, his eyes softening on you.

“No,” you shook your head, chuckling. “I’m just… surprised. Didn’t expect you to be this open,” you admitted, your nervousness waving away from your body, feeling a bit more at ease around him. He still carried his cocky, flirty, charming aura, but now with a taste of honesty you appreciated.

“I just wanted you to know me, instead of what people say about me,” Heeseung confessed with a tender smile. You nodded, glad for his sincerity.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the muffled noise of the party still going serving as a background. Heeseung was so terribly desperate to touch you again, his hands hesitantly hovering yours, yet never really touching it, as you obliviously looked at the scenery surrounding you, the trees throbbing by the quiet breeze relaxing your senses while you took a few deep breaths.

“Do you wanna go back inside or…?” Heeseung sweet voice eagerly broke the silence, attracting your attention. He was hungry for you, even without tasting you before. His eyes were dripping honey as he watched you consider your options for a bit, pursed lips with a slightly frown.

The peaceful atmosphere embraced you, not only by the cool weather but also Heeseung’s calm, sweet, yet strong presence. You looked through your eyelashes at the adorable bambi eyes that waited anxiously for your answer, blinking slowly. Something has shifted in the air between you two, and surprisingly your body was relaxed with the possible outcome, your heartbeats strong in your chest.

“I’m fine here, actually. What about you? Do you wanna go back?” Your voice sounded way softer than you expected, and just then you realized how close Heeseung’s face was to yours, his alcohol breath mingling with yours mixed with the scent of his cologne, sending you into a trance.

Your eyes naturally wandered through his beautiful facial features, his cute nose, his sparkly eyes, the little mole on his forehead, and of course, the oh, so kissable lips, tempting you so badly. You never had Heeseung that close to you, and he was so fucking breathtaking.

“No,” Heeseung replied under the same tone as yours. You observed how he hesitantly raised his hand near your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, chills running through your body with the light touch.

Heeseung took your reaction of not backing off as a green sign, so he jumped off of his seat to place himself between your legs, your sweet perfume intoxicating him as he looked up at you. Instead of going for a kiss as you expected him to do, he gulped and just hugged you by the waist, his face resting on your chest as you heard him taking a deep, long breath.

Your confused self tried to go with the flow, awkwardly caressing his dark hair, hugging him back. You didn’t understand what he was aiming for, and neither did he, to be honest. He suddenly felt so nervous he forgot how to act, and he realized your presence calmed him down so a hug looked just as right as a kiss.

However, you now were the one growing impatient. “Hee?” You called by his nickname, to which he answered with a muffled “Hm?”, loving the way it sounded in your voice.

“Do you want me to get down so we can kiss?” You audaciously asked, ignoring how hot your cheeks felt right after.

“Please,” he whispered as he parted away from you just to help you to get down, his hand rushing to grab you by the waist while the other cupped your cheek, every touch, every eye contact being so genuinely gentle.

Your fingers traced up from Heeseung’s chest until they reached his nape to scratch the area at the same time you pulled him closer, and closer. His stomach did a flip with how much he was needing you, so it took no time for him to close the distance between you two, lightly shocking his lips on yours.

The first touch was tender, hesitant, as if you both were testing it out. You moved to grab his bottom lip with yours, your breath hitching a little, shivers of anticipation going all over your skin when Heeseung tilted your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

Heeseung hummed against your mouth when he finally tasted you, his tongue brushing yours and sending him instantly to heaven; he immediately tangled his fingers on your hair to pull you near, eagerly wanting more and more of you, before sliding the same hand to your waist, pushing your body to lean it on the wall, pressing his own on your’s.

You two shared an intense desire for connection, once fed by days, weeks only by the tension of your imagination, of ‘how it could be’ or ‘happen’. Now that longing no longer occupied just your minds, becoming reality the more your bodies attracted each other with every touch, discovering new places, new pleasures, new cravings.

Heeseung didn’t know he would yearn you even more after getting a taste of you, and God, you were so addicting.

At some point you broke the kiss to catch your breath, Heeseung’s fingers exploring your body with a perfect blend of desire and respect, as if he was still waiting for the moment you would ask for a stop although he couldn’t resist to feel every piece of you. Fortunately for him, you were far from wanting him to halter his movements, his lips on yours making wonders on your system, your body feeling like melting for how amazing it felt to have him that intimately.

Heeseung’s eyes searched for yours, his now darkened gaze made your stomach flutter, your skin tingling from desire. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered on your lips, brushing them slightly. You simply shook your head, capturing his plump-kissed lips again, holding him even closer.

This kiss started urgently, even with Heeseung trying to keep it slow. Your pulse was fast, you needed him more than anything and your whole body was on fire. You could feel Heeseung going through the same, his skin smooth and warm under your hands as you boldly slipped one of them under his loosen shirt to access his back from his neck, mildly scratching the area just to receive a groan as a response.

“Fuck,” he pressed his body flush against yours even more if that was possible, his mouth travelling away from yours to spread hot kisses and small bites all over your jawline and neck.

Naturally your head was thrown back to give him more access to that area, now being your time to moan as an answer. When you paid close attention to every area of yours that was being touched by Heeseung, you noticed his hardened bulge pressing your body and let out a little gasp.

The recognition of you wanting him as much as he yearned you had awakened something inside of Heeseung, making his head lose control and focus on only one thing: you.

Heeseung was craving you like an animal.

And his way of showing that was slowing down his kisses, his hands audaciously squeezing your ass, sliding through your body with a mastery it took your breath away. Hesseung was a fucking good kisser, working his tongue on yours just the right enough to make your legs wobbly.

But then you became too aware of everything that was happening and your mind activated all the insecurity thoughts you once had for knowing that the makeout session would never just end there.

When Heeseung tried to kiss you again, you used your hands to lightly push him away and avoided his lips, both of you panting.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked you with confused, puppy eyes. Your heart shattered instantly.

“No, you’d never,” you kindly caressed his face. “I’m just– I…” You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find words that would not make you sound too off or that would make Heeseung slip away from you, but none seemed right.

“Y/N, it’s fine, yeah?” He caressed your hips and then your right cheek, pecking your lips sweetly with a gentle smile. His dick in his pants painfully reminded him of how much he was in need of your body, nonetheless he would never force you to do anything, and just the kisses you shared was enough to make his whole year worth. With that in mind, he kissed your left cheek before saying, “Let me take you home, how does that sound?”

You smiled, even with the urge of crying knocking on your door so closely, the bittersweet taste replacing Heeseung’s in your mouth as you gulped it down your throat, damning yourself for being such an overthinked, insecure person that was too afraid of going all the way for God’s knows why.

“Sounds great, Hee.”

As your usual response after any encounter involving men and the possibility of intimacy, you tried desperately to escape from meeting Heeseung. You would die to kiss him again, and again, and again… But at the same time, Heeseung wasn’t the type of guy who would stop at just kissing and you got a bit of the taste of that – your whole body was on fire just remembering his firm length pressing against your body, the little sounds he let out through the kiss, his hands pulling you closer and closer… And then you freaked out. As always.

Little did you know that Heeseung grew so obsessed with you and your intimate touch that night, that the mere thought of kissing you again consumed his mind just as much as you already captivated every corner of his head before.

The ghost of your lips lingered on his, haunted Heeseung’s memory, making him crave even more of whatever you would be willing to give to him, he would take anything at this point.

Heeseung noticed you vanished from your obvious encounters, not only by missing the basketball game’s practice, but weirdly not hanging out with your own friends. The possibility of you avoiding him made his heart pound in a mild, strange pain, as he didn’t know the reason behind and simply deduced he did something wrong, like crossed your boundaries or anything similar. He couldn’t live with himself if that was the case and in order to correct that, he needed to see you and properly apologize.

“Do you think I’ve fucked up?” Heeseung was now in Jay's room to vent out his concerns about you, pacing back and forth. Jay was still half-asleep, barely knowing his own name let alone able to deal with Heeseung’s situation.

Fortunately for Heeseung, one of the perks of having a long-time friend is that the said friend would be open to hear you whenever and for whatever reason.

“What do you mean?” Jay’s voice sounded groggy as he squinted his eyes to face the bright light coming through the window before searching for Heeseung in his room.

“She’s been ignoring me, like literally ignoring my texts and avoiding me,” Heeseung explained, fingers messing his hair nervously.

Jay let out a deep sigh with a yawn while he sat straight on his bed, running his hand on his hair to try to make it as presentable as possible. “Have you thought about the possibility that she’s, I don’t know, going through something?”

“And how do I fix this?” Heeseung looked at his friend with a hint of desperation.

“You have to let her deal with her stuff first, Hee.” Jay tried to sound as much as compassionate as he could, watching Heeseung taking the seat beside him on the bed. Jay patted his back. “I don’t think it’s up to you, at all.”

“I know, it’s just frustrating. I want her so bad, bro,” Heeseung rested his elbows on his legs and buried his face in his hands.

“Yeah, never seen you so down for a girl like that,” Jay huffed a little chuckle, amazed by his friend’s behavior.

“How can I not be? She’s so pretty, and we have such a good connection, and, God, her lips taste like honey. Like, her touches are so ligh–”

“Ok, enough,” Jay rushed to cut off Heeseung’s possible one hour speech about you, and now that you both shared an intimate moment, Jay was one hundred percent sure he didn’t need to hear such vivid details about it that early in the morning. “Let her do her thing, I’m sure she’ll eventually reach for you, bro.”

“I hope so.”

You weren’t too different from Heeseung though, feeling completely frustrated and in anguish.

You got your panties dampened in arousal just by having Heeseung touching and feeling you the way he did, and he would not leave your thoughts alone for no second during your days, making it difficult to go through your classes and to focus on your studies without your foots nervously tapping the floor, while biting and licking your lips due to your imagination flying by uncountable scenarios.

All of them with the same outcome: you panicking and leaving him hanging.

“Spill it out,” Sunoo surprised you by hugging you from behind while you waited in the line to order you a coffee.

“God Damn it, Sunoo!” You slapped his arm, hearing him laughing at you. “Why do you always do this?” Your question sounded like a whine. He poked your sides before letting you go from the hug.

“It’s funny how reactive you always are,” he teased with a smirk. “Order one for me, babe. I’ll pick us a table,” Sunoo said simply, as he started to move away from you.

“But–”

“No but’s!” He called out already far from you. “I can see your frown from a mile away and I’ve known you long enough to know you’re doing what you like to do the most.”

Your flabbergasted expression was the only thing Sunoo saw before heading to a table on the corner of the store waiting for you to pick the both of you a coffee and head to share the seat with him.

“I kissed him.” You blurted out as soon as you sat, eyes expressing a mix of despair and excitement. Sunoo opened his mouth in a perfect ‘oh’ that silently asked you to explain it better. “So I went to that party,” Sunoo nodded for you to keep going. “And I was dancing with one of his friends, and then he stepped in and we danced together. You know I don’t usually socialize alone that much, so I was feeling drained already,” Sunoo eyes were sparkling in interest, he loved a good little love story. “Heeseung led me to the backyard, and we chatted for a bit, he made sure that I knew his reputation was all talk,” you chuckled, remembering how anxious he looked trying to explain himself. “And now that I know this, it makes total sense. I never really saw him doing anything too explicit in public, so…”

“Ok, babe. I got that part,” Sunoo rushed you. Normally he would listen to every single word you were saying in order to fully help you, but he was so invested in getting to the point he couldn’t help his impatience.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Well, we had a little moment y’know and then we kissed, very cute and all that jazz. Until the things… shifted a bit,” your cheeks blushed.

“Oh?” Sunoo's eyes grew wide just like his smile. “Did you..?”

“No! I didn’t,” you pouted. “That's the thing. I freaked out. As I always do. And now I’m even more desperate than before, because I got to taste what he can offer me and I want more, but I’m so, so, so afraid,” you whined, almost crying as the words came out of your mouth without you caring if it made sense or not.

Sunoo sighed, his orbs now filled with reassurance as he held both of your hands. “Did he force you to do anything?” You shook your head. “He stopped when you asked him to?” You nodded. “Then I don’t think you have to be scared of anything, Y/N,” you were about to interrupt him, but he kept on talking. “Listen, if Heeseung is into you the way it looks, he’ll respect your boundaries and wait for your consentment. And if he tries something funny, y’know I’ve got your back. I can punch really hard if I need to.”

You chuckled at his wording, knowing that was actually the truth. You were blessed to have someone like Sunoo in your life. “Thank you, Sunny,” you said sincerely. “I’m very grateful for having you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetie,” he kissed the back of your hand, before clapping his and saying excitedly. “Now let’s work on a plan of how you can relax and finally get that dick.”

“Sunoo!” You exclaimed, exasperated, and your friend's loud laugh was the only response you got.

“See you tomorrow, captain.”

You leaned your back against the wall near the door, watching a group of guys walk out of the locker room, some of them narrowing their eyes at you to which you pretended not to see, fakely paying attention to your phone, hoping none of them would stop to talk to you. You had one person in mind only.

“Oh? What are you doing here?”

And it was definitely not Jake.

“Oh, hey,” you smiled awkwardly, pushing your body away from the wall to face Jake. Your eyes darted over his shoulder, scanning if someone was coming after him just before you turned away from the door. “I’m wai–”

“Y/N?”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of your name being called by the voice you only heard in your dreams for the past few days. You tried to swallow down your tension and your shivers, barely registering Jake stepping away from you two to give the space you both needed.

Your body slowly turned to face Heeseung. His hair was wet, and he had a flustered, tired face from the game, a backpack hanging loose from his shoulder, and a small towel on his hands that he was using to dry off the water from his recent shower. His cherry-red lips were slightly parted, and his heavy breathing made your stomach and heart fluttered.

What a fucking vision, you almost whispered.

He had a blend of surprise, happiness and worry in his expression, which softened right after you showed him a small smile, your voice sounding as sweet as honey. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he mimicked your kind tone, his lips curving into a smile as well. He observed your adorable reddened cheeks and your big doe eyes staring at him, filled with expectation. “How are you?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice came out so obviously holding back his desperation.

His heart was racing fast, a genuine wave of joy and relief running through his body. You had no right to show up looking so damn cute and expect him to act normal, as if he wasn’t missing you like crazy.

“I’m good,” you replied softly.

Heeseung nodded, never breaking eye contact. You tried hard to figure out what was left unspoken through his intense, yet tender gaze; your skin aching, yearning for his warm touch just one more time, just like that night, just as a reminder of how good it felt, just so you could bring to reality everything that went through your thoughts since the last kiss.

You really wished Heeseung were feeling the same way, or at least something close to it, otherwise you weren’t sure if you could deal with rejection after you struggled to gather all your courage to encounter him.

The tension in the air was suffocating you a bit, the endless silence was killing you inside, nevertheless you couldn’t find the right words to start anything coherent. Gladly Heeseung perceived your body reacting to the strange atmosphere between you two, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable or to make things weird in your little relationship.

So he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he bit his bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you,” he confessed without realizing he just did, voice quiet, almost like a whisper. You watched his eyes growing subtly wide before you drifted away from them.

Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks heating up and your hands trembling with the unexpected confession. “I’ve missed you too, Hee.” You admitted looking at the floor, unable to keep looking at the eyes that showed you too much affection right now.

The desire once never forgotten grew stronger inside Heeseung’s chest, he needed you more than anything. His hand reached out for yours, the light brush of your skins sending chills through your spine and taking your breath away.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, relief running on his body when you held his hand back.

“Yeah, we can,” you nodded, now looking up, not containing your smile as soon as you met his face all lightened up.

“Okay,” he left out a little chuckle, too happy for his own good. “But not here.”

Heeseung and you walked out of the building together, his hands’ grip tight on yours as you simply followed his lead. Your brain was spinning inside your head with the amount of thoughts going on.

You didn’t know what to expect the conversation to be, let alone what he would do with you – or what you would do with him. The anticipation was eating you alive, and you thanked God when he stopped in the private area of the campus’ parking lot, guiding you to stand in front of him while he leaned his back on the wall.

“I was not joking when I said I’ve missed you,” he started, now holding both of your hands. You took a step closer, so you could show that you weren’t lying either. “I have to ask, though. Did I–”

You interrupted before he could even start the question, because from the little you knew about Heeseung, he was going to blame himself.

“I’m sorry for my reaction that night. I– I think I was a bit overwhelmed,” you explained, focusing the drawings on his shirt to avert his eyes. “I really enjoyed kissing you, God, you have no idea,” you said with a soft laugh. “But I freaked out,” you gulped. “I freaked out because I’ve never–” Your cheeks were burning like fire due to your embarrassment, your words stuck on your throat. Heeseung gently squeezed your hands in a reassuring way, leaning a bit forward to search for your eyes. You finally looked up at him.

“I’ve– I’ve never gone further kissing someone,” your voice came out as an unsteady, low whisper, while you quickly avoided Heeseung’s gaze again.

But he made sure you would be looking right at his eyes when he said his next words, tilting your chin up with his finger.

“I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you, angel,” and he was so, so tender to you.

His hand left yours to caress your face with a softness that almost made you melt, automatically leaning into the touch. The new nickname sent a flutter through your stomach.

“No,” you hurried to say, shaking your head. “You didn’t. It’s just… Me. Me being an insecure mess, I guess,” you laughed awkwardly.

“Hey, you’re not a mess,” he now held your face between his large hands, forcing you to maintain eye contact. “I loved kissing you, baby. Would love to do more than that,” he smirked, not only showing his desire, but also his understanding. His words and his actions worked in a perfect sync to make your body instantly react, the pulsing sensation between your legs showing how much you were affected by him. “But I would never force you to do anything.” He released your face, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before his hands rested on your waist in a comforting manner. “Would it help if we talked through your insecurities?”

Heeseung was an angel, you realized. A perfect blend of a compassionate angel and a devil who fed your deepest fantasies.

You blinked twice to process his offer, not once in your life imagining you would meet someone willing to hear you so openly.

“Are you sure?” You asked, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders.

His lips curved into a mischievous, shameless smirk. The so known cocky, flirty aura making its appearance just to falter right away, as if he remembered it wasn’t the moment to act like that. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side when he vacillated to speak.

“Now you have to say exactly what you’re thinking.” You said firmly.

“I don’t think I sho–”

“Lee Heeseung,” your voice was serious and he sighed defeated.

“Okay, okay,” he locked his eyes on yours, a hint of playfulness and craving mixed, causing your heartbeat to increase. “Yes, I’m sure I wanna hear what you’re insecure about, Y/N,” he leaned in closer, just to murmur. “I have to know what I’ll be fucking out of you.”

Your eyes grew wide with his sincerity. Yes, you did ask, but fuck, how does one say something so casually? Your whole face was burning with fluster, your flabbergasted expression was as clear as crystal water, your brain stopped working properly and you had no fucking idea of what to say or do.

“I’m sorr–”

But for some reason, shutting Heeseung up with a kiss sounded right.

Your lips shocked against his with a passion you never felt before. Heeseung’s words, the way he touched you, how his body reacted at the simple act of kissing you and having your hands discovering places on his body – everything made you feel secure and desired, the right mix to make it work on you.

Heeseung made his way through your shell, placing himself right before your insecurities and little by little, without doing much, he was helping you get over them.

Heeseung shamelessly moaned against your mouth when you bit his bottom lip, sucking it before coming back with your tongue hungrily searching for his, your heavy breaths mingling while you both devoured the kiss with vigor.

You parted away to speak, your voice sounding low and too sensual for Heeseung’s health. “I hope you’re loyal to your words, Heeseung.”

He took in your now darkened, full of lust, eyes and your swollen, glistened lips due to the urgent kiss you just shared. The view alone made him go insane.

“Oh, I am,” he murmured, voice deep and husky, his cocky grin making him look even hotter. He gripped your waist tightly and maneuvered your both so he could press you against the wall, placing his lips on your ear to spread a few kisses before saying, “I’m a man of my word, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.”

You let out a small gasp and then a little whine, your lips parting and your eyes hooded as you relaxed your body, ignoring your mind screaming at you to run away, replacing the anxiety with the craving you cherished for God’s know how long.

“I want to hear every single thought that is holding you back, and then, I’m gonna make you forget about all of them,” Heeseung’s breath was hot against your skin, just like his lips, biting, sucking, kissing every area he had at his disposal.

“Is that a promise?” You decided to play with him on his game, knowing you had no chance against the player anyway. Nonetheless, the foreign feeling growing inside you made words come out of your mouth without you really thinking about them, and it was so fucking good.

“Yes, angel. It is a promise,” Heeseung halted his intense diving into your neck to look deep into your eyes. “But I can’t take your virginity here, in a public parking lot.”

Normally you would fumble into a chain of embarrassment and nervousness with your intimacy being said that openly. However, Heeseung managed to word it in a totally different way. His voice was low, sultry, filled with a raw desire that made you realize he still wanted you, even after you admitted inexperience. Heeseung ignited an intense fire in you.

And then you remembered. You lived in a dorm. “Don’t get me wrong,” your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling it back a little. “But I can’t take you to mine.”

His forehead rested on yours while he chuckled, a bit disappointed. But not on you. “Yeah… I can’t take you to mine, as well. Not today, though.”

“So…” You blinked innocently, not knowing exactly what to say or do.

“We’re not finished yet, angel.”

Unfortunately for you, you realized that what made you so confident and down to go all the way with Heeseung was the fact he was with you, his smooth foreplay skillfully easing your body to relax and enjoy instead of overthinking.

His kisses helped you to forget your concerns and his hands guided you in a way you didn’t have to worry about what to do, not to mention the fact that he was willing to have sex with you even after you shared your insecurities with him.

When you two realized that it wasn’t going to happen that day, the heat went down and you both decided to sit in Heeseung's car to share some more kisses while chatting.

Heeseung always reassuring you through his caring – and hot – touches, listening to every word of yours with compassion dripping out of his eyes, understanding and explaining openly to you about what you were curious about.

You didn’t really open up about everything as you usually do with a friend like Sunoo, partly because you believed it would work as a huge turn off and Heeseung would leave you. But also because you recognized that a lot of your thoughts were beyond your control, like the shape or size of your breasts and other similar things.

Heeseung made sure you understood that besides anything, he would find you sexy no matter what, which made you blush and hide your face on his chest while he laughed at your reaction, but it also made you believe his words and feel more confident about sex.

Nevertheless, through a whole week, a bunch of “do you wanna come over?” texts were dismissed with a lame excuse from you. As said before, his kisses made you ease your mind, and answering such an important question like that without having his mouth working on yours to make you forget about your messy mind, was damn difficult.

What you didn’t know is that Heeseung wasn’t actually planning to have sex with you the times he invited you. He literally just wanted to hang out. Of course he aimed to kiss you eventually, however his main objective was to make you comfortable with him being around, touching you in places you never got to be touched before, making sure you knew how much he craved your body, how much he wanted you, and that you were safe.

It was a busy week, afterall, full of heavy practices because the final game was getting closer and your presence on the bleachers was one thing that didn’t stop happening this time.

You avoided being alone with Heeseung as much as you could, but your lips always missed him, so you had to make the tremendous effort of watching him in every practice.

“He’s so good,” Julie whispered close to your ear, startling you.

“Who?” You asked confused.

“Your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to reply with your cheeks already gaining some color.

“Cut that off, he’s head over heels for you, girl,” Yunjin pointed out on your other side. “It’s almost annoying.”

“Yeah, and you always have this weird look in your eyes whenever you see him,” Julie nudged you with her shoulder. “Like you’re always wanting him so bad,” she said with a forced sensual voice. “I bet the sex is amazing.”

“I don’t think you should be talking about Y/N’s sexual lif–” Sunoo tried to interrupt the subject, noticing your discomfort for being smashed between two – sometimes – very indecent girls.

“No, but like. She never talks about it. I’m so curious,” Julie whined. “They say the quiet ones are the worst.”

The whistle indicating the last quarter of the practice was over and you jumped out of your seat, running down the stairs to meet Heeseung, not only to be with him but mostly to avoid Julie and Yunjin's inconvenient questions.

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell them about anything sex related, since they both were very sexually active and their actions seemed a bit off whenever you became the topic of the conversation.

“What’s with the hurry, baby?” Heeseung smiled big while hugging you when you jumped on his arms, caring little to nothing about his sweat sticking to your skin.

“Missed you,” you said muffled against his neck, your heart beating fast while you felt him moving you to walk on your back, still clinging onto him.

He stopped walking at some point and you let go of him.

“I gotta take a shower. I’m getting you all dirty, angel,” your cheeks burned with how you interpreted his words, widened eyes as you looked at him. Heeseung noticed it. “Hey, you dirty minded girl, I’m talking about my sweat on you,” he sneaked his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him to walk with you towards the locker room.

“I don’t think your explanation makes it less worse.”

He laughed out loud, throwing his head back with your audacious phrase, and typically you would find it endearing how he looked so handsome smiling big. This time you paid more attention to his neck and how his Adam’s apple seemed more attractive than ever. His sweat dripping out of his honeyed skin was doing no good to you as well, messing with your head, filling it with horny thoughts.

When you arrived, you patiently waited for Heeseung outside the locker room, greeting a few team’s members you’ve come to know, since it’s become a routine for you to be around.

You were playing on your phone when he left the room, glancing at you with a pretty smile and offering you his hand.

You two walked your way to the parking lot, a common everyday thing you started doing after the days he had practice. Oftenly you would be in his car for a few minutes, sharing caresses and sweet talks, before he drove you to your dorm.

“Will you watch me tomorrow?” He asked with sparkly, expectant eyes, swinging your arms.

“Of course I will, Captain,” you looked at his side profile. “Don’t forget, I’m the team’s lucky charm,” you winked playfully at him, remembering one of your firsts dialogues alone you shared.

“Yeah,” he stopped walking to pull you closer by the waist, his voice softened. “And I don’t know what to do without you,” his eyes glazed on yours for a while, dripping affection.

It took just a second for his lips to find its home on yours, kissing you slow and sweet, enjoying every bit of your addicting taste.

He parted with a little smack sound, pecking your lips a few times. Your breath hitched with his tender touch. He held your hand again so you could keep walking.

“The coach was afraid of me dating you, he said you could be a distraction to me and bla-bla-bla,” he huffed a laugh, you, on the other hand, froze. Dating? “Little did he know you’re the main reason I have a good performance. I need to impress my girl.”

You had a very shocking expression on your face when Heeseung looked at you to see why you went quietly suddenly. You stopped on your tracks and turned to him, lips parted as you blinked without saying a thing.

“What?” Heeseung cocked his head, his bambi, confused eyes shined, trying to read you.

“We’re dating?”

“Oh,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I never asked yo–”

“You never asked me–” You both said at the same time and stopped, also at the same time.

Heeseung cleared his throat and with a deep breath he rested his eyes on yours, automatically smiling.

“Well, if you’re okay with it, I’d love to call what we have dating.” He said adorably with his hand squeezing yours, “I just assumed we were on the same page, but I’m okay if you don’t want to define it or wanna talk about it more. I’m always all ears for you, Y/N.” He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I mean, I just wanna be with you, and if you are fine with me calling you my girlfriend, then I’d be more than happy to call you that.”

All his words sounded like babbling to you, because that moment, in the middle of the parking lot, you heart skipped a beat as you realized you were so fucking in love with Lee Heeseung.

You were sure you had heart eyes while staring at his anticipating expression, and you couldn’t care less. You pushed yourself forward so you could kiss him passionately, his hands coming to hold you by your jawline, moving so slowly, so lovingly, so sincerely.

It was a different kiss, it was a love kiss, a confessional kiss, a kiss you only were able to have because of its genuine intentions.

“I’d love to call you my boyfriend, Hee,” you whispered against his mouth, smiling brightly as he shared the same expression, the same emotion.

As intense as a final game normally is, you couldn’t help but tap your feet on the ground, to the point of you standing up to pace back and forth. The rival university was ten points ahead in the fourth quarter and the minutes were ticking down.

You could see Heeseung's tensed body from afar, the seat you had helping nothing with the view of the game – you took advantage of being the captain's girlfriend to ask to watch the game from up close. But it was your worst decision so far, because you barely saw anything.

The tension was palpable in the air, your breath caught in your throat at every pass. Your university team managed to close the gap at some point, and when you looked at the clock, the 10 seconds countdown was shining.

Your heart dropped when you saw Heeseung’s bold move of stealing the ball from one of the opposing team member, the crowd yelling as he sprinted down the court, for a fraction of seconds you catched his glance at you, before he focused fully in dribbling whoever entered his way, and then he launched himself into the air, his perfect form aiming directly for the three point line.

Everything became slow motion as you watched the ball going straight through the hoop, the whole gym exploding with loud cheers as you yourself jumped and hugged whoever were near you with a big smile.

The whole team crowded Heeseung to celebrate, everyone of them shining big smiles but you paid attention to only one. And the said one was searching for you in the sidelines. He broke free from them to jog to you, who also was running in his direction. You jumped on his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and he swirled you while screaming excitedly. “We did it!”

“You did it, Hee. I knew you could do it.” You answered as happily as him, laughing with joy and tightening the hug.

Heeseung softly landed you on the ground, his eyes gleaming with his victory. He cupped your face with his large hands, pulling you into an eagerly sweet kiss, no trophy topping the feeling of having you like that.

The cheers grew louder as everyone watched the romantic scene, however nothing seemed real around you two, lost in the bubble you’ve created. “I did it for you, angel,” he murmured against your lips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I told you before. I have to impress my girl,” and then he kissed you again, your smiles you shared mingling between breaths and small pecks, before he hugged you tightly one more time.

The celebration went for a while. From afar, you observed Heeseung being surrounded by his friends and teammates, getting praised for his skills and how well he did that match.

You watched from afar how bright and full of joy Heeseung was, his whole face glowing, surrounded by his friends and teammates, celebrating the win, getting showered with praise by everyone. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but remember all the times he got flustered by your compliments, his shy smile in contrast with his darkened eyes, as if your words woke something inside him. You made a mental note to take a little advantage of that later on.

“The guys left the house for me tonight,” Heeseung murmured as he finally approached you, already outside the building, placing his hands on your waist while yours naturally settled on his shoulders. His voice dropped to a tone only you knew the meaning of.

Instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah?” Your voice came out low.

You took in every detail of his beautiful face, his demeanor softened since a big part of the adrenaline had left his body by now. Despite that, his eyes still sparkled with adoration and a hint of desire. Heeseung licked his lips, sucking his lower one while shifting his gaze between your mouth and your adorable, innocent, yet lustful eyes.

“Yeah,” he mildly nodded, leaning in closer, but he unfortunately got interrupted by a voice you recognized immediately. Your eyes grew wide.

“Look at you two!” Julie squealed with a smile, clapping excitedly. “You did amazing, Heeseung.” She complimented your boyfriend giving two thumbs up, and you tried to hide your embarrassment by tilting your head towards Heeseung’s chest, who hugged you sideways.

Yunjin, who was with Julie, nodded in agreement, also smiling. “Yeah, that last point was incredible,” she added, giving your shoulder a teasing nudge to whisper closer to you. “I bet you’re dying to get out of here, huh?”

“Thank you,” Heeseung said with a smile, while you gave an awkward grin in response to Yunjin.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Julie said with a wink. “Looks like someone’s eager for some private time.” With a final ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck,’ Julie and Yunjin left, leaving you with an astonished, shy expression, and Heeseung with a contained mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about them,” you whispered, watching them go before searching for Heeseung’s eyes just to see them already glancing playfully at you.

“Are they lying, though?” Heeseung asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

You smacked his chest, unable to give a proper response as you buried your face on his neck, muffling a quiet “Stop,” while he hugged you and let it out a precious laugh.

“But… Can I take you to my place today?” His question sounded a bit hesitant, still sweet as honey, while his fingers gently caressed your back. “We don’t have to do anything, I just wanna be with you,” he added with kind eyes after you released yourself from his embrace to face him.

You nodded, “You can,” and offered him a small, genuine smile, making him lose control with your beauty and cuteness and kiss you before heading to his car with you.

The drive was calm, nonetheless your body was pretty tense on the car seat. Your brain was spinning with that night’s outcome. While you had an intense desire to finally have Heeseung the way you dreamed of, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about it too.

You craved his body, his touches, his lips, overall, him. And he had demonstrated to be a good guy so far. Heeseung respected your boundaries, always making sure you felt comfortable even with the minimal invasive touches, like when he tried to touch under your skirt one day and you startled in response.

He murmured a billion “I’m sorry’s” after the episode, and that alone had your heart fluttering in passion, allowing him to slide his bold touches wherever he wanted to, but never further enough to have you fully.

You gulped down your nervousness, looking at Heeseung’s side profile illuminated by the night lights – his honeyed skin was glowing, his black hair messy with sweat, some strands of hair sticking on his exposed forehead, his perfect nose and kissable lips, everything made you dive into your dirtiest thoughts.

You only noticed you arrived at his house when he broke the silence by announcing it, opening the door for you and grabbing your hands instantly as he led you inside the house all the way to his room.

“Imma take a quick shower, okay?” You nodded. “Make yourself comfortable. Don’t be shy.” He pecked your lips before heading to his bathroom.

You sat on the edge of his bed, analyzing how simple his room seemed to be – just the right amount of things he needed to have, like a wardrobe, a big bed and his gamer computer setup. Being in one’s room, for you, always felt like an act of intimacy itself.

You were in the same place he changed clothes, he listened to his favorite music, he played his favorite games, he studied… And the same place he touched himself, he had sex with other persons, he had wet dreams…

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, fidgeting your fingers even faster. Your panties got slightly dampened and your body overheated just by thinking of how close you were to Heeseung right now, although you didn’t even had him in your sight.

The sound of the shower turning off indicating he was done showering had your stomach fluttering because he was about to come out of the bathroom, and not a single soul in the earth had you prepared to face his upper body in full display to you – his toned chest, a bit red because of the hot water, being accentuated by a subtle abs, his arms muscles contracting as he dried off his hair.

Heeseung’s boxers peeked through the hem of his sweatshorts, and you swore to God you saw a single droplet of water running all the way down in his beautiful, hot, tanned skin, stopping on his V-line.

“Are you hungry?” Heeseung’s voice broke you out of your trance, finally making you stare at his face instead of his body. He didn’t deny that your voracious eyes eating him alive sent signals directly to his dick, making it twitch inside his clothes. He watched you blink two, three, four times with an unreadable expression, making him frown. “Y/N?”

“Y–yeah?” You snapped out of your imagination of kissing, licking, sucking every part of his body, feeling his skin through your lips. Your mouth watered, but not because of hunger for food.

“Do you wanna order a delivery or something?” Heeseung cocked his head, shamelessly checking you out as well. If you had the right to devour him with your intense gaze, he had it too, undressing you with his eyes while biting his bottom lip.

Your skirt was placed gently on your thighs, your tight crop top evidenced your breast and a little part of your belly was being shown, all too tempting to him, eager to see more of your body.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on anything but your desire of having Heeseung fucking you, failling disastrously. “Um, sure. Sounds good,” you managed to say, your voice clearly trembling as your breath got stuck in your airways.

You had to contain a whimper when Heeseung took a step closer, his towel now hanging in his shoulders as he towered you, lifting your head with two fingers holding your chin.

“What do you wanna eat, angel?” He questioned, and he was definitely not talking about food anymore at this point.

You felt the heat increase in your stomach, your body shivering with his light, warm touch, acting like it was in withdrawal of whatever he could give you. And you wished so hard for him to offer you everything.

“I– I don’t know,” you murmured, blinking slowly, parted lips letting out your hitched breath. “What’s your suggestion?” You forced yourself to take a glance at his look, gasping slightly with how he had shifted to an almost breathtaking lascivious one, slightly hooded, serious and attractive just the right amount to make you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’m afraid my suggestion does not involve food, my love.” Heeseung’s voice dropped a few tones as he bended forward to lean closer, inches away from you, his warm air brushing against your face, his gaze savoring every single one of your reactions.

“What–” You bit your lip. “What does it involve, then?” You asked under breath, a burn sensation taking place on your cheeks as Heeseung’s grin grew. Your pulse increased in the silent, yet full of unspoken desires, room.

“Well,” he murmured, eyes almost closing as he got closer and closer, lips now touching lightly yours, as he said “I might have to show you. Would you let me?”

Your answer came through actions, your hands quickly took place on his neck and pulled him down to you, tossing the towel to the floor while your mouth chased for his’, desperate for a kiss. It took Heeseung just seconds to react to your intensity, kindly pushing you to lay down on the bed as you tried to keep your lips occupied while moving upwards in a comfortable position; Heeseung crawling on the mattress, never daring to break out the touch.

His fingers dug into your waist while his other arm supported his weight, grinding slowly against your body, pressing his hardened cock on your clothed cunt in order to get any friction he could. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by the kiss, as the heat between your bodies intensified, the thought of causing that reaction in Heeseung making you feel even hotter, more impatient, more desperate for anything he was giving you.

His mouth was working wonders – hot, skilled, passionate as he sucked your tongue, his little groans getting lost in the middle of the kiss. At the same time your fingers brushed his naked chest, his hands infiltrated under your shirt, and your body instantly reacted to the feel of his warm and smooth skin on yours.

Though Heeseung had waited for what felt like ages to have you underneath him like that, he was aware of your insecurities and the fact that it was your first time. Despite how your body responded to his touch, he knew that taking it slow was the right choice, so he made sure you felt safe and cherished as he savored every second.

Heeseung unhurried his movements, gently parting the kiss to catch his breath and taking the opportunity to enjoy the view – your parted, glistened and swollen-kissed lips, your hooded eyes, hiding your lust behind them, but showing him adoration. He smiled, placing a sweet, tender kiss on your jawline, downing to your neck and collarbone, getting drunk on your scent with his lips trailing kind and lascivious touches on your skin.

You grabbed his hair with your hands, pulling Heeseung even closer to your body – as if it was possible – in a way of distracting the anxiety building up on your core. But then you pushed him away, and he showed you a confused gaze.

You smiled shyly and moved your hands so you could undress yourself from your shirt and toss it onto the floor, revealing part of your gorgeous body to his eyes, your breasts placed in your black bra attracting his attention.

“You’re beautiful,” Heeseung whispered, filled with sincerity and care, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, the most cherished treasure he ever had, with the perfect mix of desire, eyes dripping the need of having more of you.

His touches were light as he traced his fingers from your waist all the way to your clothed boobs, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in every little reaction, every little sound. He paused to ask tenderly.

“Can I take these off?” And when you nodded and helped him to remove your bra, he smiled, not holding back his delighted sigh at the sight of your pretty and hardened nipples.

You felt exposed and your cheeks flushed with a dark ton of red, you had nowhere to hide so you just let Heeseung adore you, until his mouth placed kisses near your breasts, giving you time to assimilate that new experience.

You couldn’t hold back an audible gasp when his lips brushed your sensitive bud, his hot tongue swirling it to suck right after, not too intense, not too light, just the right amount, as if he knew exactly what to do with your body to make you go insane.

“Hee–” you moaned his name when he drifted away to give the proper attention to your other boob while his hand massaged the already a bit swollen one.

The sound of your voice whining Heeseung’s name sent a wave of electricity all over his body, directly to his neglected dick. While he kept going down with his mouth through your belly until he reached the hem of your skirt, he humped slightly on whatever could give him some friction on his sensitive bulge.

He halted his movements when he achieved your inner thighs to look at you with reassuring eyes and a soft smile.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” his lips kissed the area and you tensened your legs, not used to being touched in there. However, if it felt too good and in no world you wanted Heeseung to stop.

“I trust you, Hee.”

And Heeseung couldn’t ask for a better way of you saying what he needed to hear. He kept placing hot kisses on your thighs and you bent your knee, the position giving him the full view of your ruined panties, a pool of arousal making it stick to your cunt, the drawing of your folds making its personal show right in front of his eyes.

Heeseung’s mouth watered. He remembered every time he imagined being buried between your legs and, God, he didn’t know if he would be able to hold himself down on this one.

“Would you be okay if I–” He gulped, searching for your eyes, which were already glancing at his drunk-looking figure with curiosity. You never saw that expression on Heeseung’s face, and for some reason it made your clit pulse, walls clenching around nothing. “If I eat you out? You can say no if you don’t feel comfortable doing it on your first time, but I would appreciat–”

“I meant it when I said I trust you.”

You cut off his ramble for two reasons: one, because you weren’t prepared to hear his speech that would pretty much make you feel even more embarrassed; two, you were desperate for some relieve, your body literally aching in desire to feel your release, and if his hot mouth and tongue felt that good on your skin, you shivered just by the thought of having them on your sensitive area.

“Thank you,” Heeseung sounded really relieved that you accepted his request. “I’ll remove your skirt, is that okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, hands gripping on the sheets without knowing much more what to do.

Heeseung tossed your clothing piece on the floor, and when he was about to prepare himself to dive into your pussy, you grabbed his hair. He instantly stopped what he was doing, his heart did a flip with the thought of you giving up on your words, although he would obey whatever your decision was.

But when he looked at you, he noticed your shy smile. “Can you remove your shorts too?”

He let out a little chuckle, “Of course,” and stood up to do what you asked so adorably for him to do.

You enjoyed the view of his dick hard inside his, now, tightened boxers. You wondered if he would fit in you, but you didn’t have time to think much of it as he went back to his position, gaze shifting between your clothed cunt and your anxious eyes.

“Are you okay, princess? Remember, you can always ask me to stop.”

“Yes, Hee. I’m okay,” your voice came out between hitched breaths. “Please, do something, it’s hurting,” you pleaded with a little whine, and that was the green sign for Heeseung to sigh and groan by the sight of you, needy of his mouth on your pussy.

He placed a delicate kiss right on your clothed clit, simply for you to feel comfortable with your area being touched for the first time. Heeseung heard your little moan before losing himself in his mind, distributing hot touches with his lips all over the area.

He then removed your last piece of cloth, the view of your pussy in full display made him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, his cock throbbing inside his boxers.

You had your eyes closed, trying to ignore the fact you were very exposed, to focus on the amazing feeling of Heeseung’s hot breath directly where you needed him the most. You moaned when his tongue licked experimentally your folds.

Heeseung slipped his hands under your legs to hold you in a position he gained a better support and kept you open for him as he worked on your cunt.

Your sweet taste melted on his mouth as he ate you out willingly, the tip of his nose brushing on your sensitive clit as he skillfully moved his head to stimulate you in as many areas as he could – his tongue teasing to enter in your entrance, the foreign feeling making you squirm in a bit of a discomfort that quickly waved out of your body because of how good your clit being stimulated was making you feel.

It was a mix of sensations you never really felt; you had touched yourself before, but nothing compares to Heeseung’s amazing mouth and tongue licking, sucking and making out with your pussy. You could feel the knot forming on your stomach as you tensed your body.

“Heeseung,” you moaned a bit loud. “I think I’m close–”

Heeseung broke out of the trance he got himself into to listen to you, afterall he wanted to take care of you.

“I want you to cum on my mouth, is that okay princess?” He asked between little pecks and licks on your folds and clit. You nodded, not knowing exactly if he was seeing you do so.

“Could you look at me, angel?” He questioned, his voice sounding too sweet to the lustful view he was offering you. Hair stuck on his forehead, nose and chin glistened with your arousal. “There you go,” he smirked before diving again into your pussy, his eyes now never leaving your face, even when you rolled your eyes and threw your head back, trying hard to keep with his request.

Your orgasm hit almost instantly, the mix of his devilish looks and how he ate you so passionately worked together for you to achieve your release in his mouth, Heeseung drinking not only your juices, but all of your moans and whines.

He left the area after pecking two, three, four times, and then trailed kisses through your body until he reached the corner of your mouth, watching you breathing heavily with a small smile adorning your lips.

Heeseung decided not to kiss you right away, not only giving you time to recompose but also avoiding you to feel the taste of yourself in his tongue. He loved you for a while, gently brushing his lips on your skin, kissing once and a while, until he felt your hands caressing his hair, tenderly.

“Are you alright?” Heeseung questioned after a while, searching for your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nodded lazily. However, you knew it wasn’t the end, and mostly, you wanted more.

“Do you want to stop?” He caressed your face, moving away some strands of your hair. You shook your head, mischievously smiling. You could feel his still clothed dick literally twitching on your leg, and although your last orgasm was intense and you got a bit tired, you needed to have him even closer to you.

“You are hard as hell, Hee,” you giggled, catching his eyes darkening again. “And I need to feel you inside of me,” you looked at his lips before pulling him down to kiss you properly.

As earlier, the urgency of the touch grew faster and faster, and Heeseung had to remind himself once more that he needed to go slow.

He parted the kiss just to ask with a serious voice “Are you sure about this?”

“More than anything in my life, Hee. I want you,” you gently caressed his cheek, smiling when he pecked your lips before getting on his feet to finally remove his last clothing piece, revealing his whole body to you.

You swallowed when his dick jumped out of his boxers, throbbing, covered in precum, all because of you. You whined with the view, propping yourself up on your elbows when he got closer to your face since he had to get a condom in his nightstand. Your hand automatically rushed to grab his length, peeking up at his face at the right time to catch his face contorted in shock and then, pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, enjoying the warmth of your skin on his neglected, sensitive cock. It was clear you didn’t know exactly what to do, but the movement of going up and down was enough to make Heeseung’s knees weak. He was weak for you, afterall.

Heeseung let you try out whatever crossed your mind and enjoy yourself for a bit, because it meant you were comfortable enough with him to do so, and your endeared and erotic gaze hypnotized him too strongly for him to stop you.

He made sure to moan your name, watching your body reacting to it, trying his best to make you get wet again and make things easier later. He wasn’t faking it, though. Your hands really were doing wonders on his shaft – he watched you positioning yourself to sit on your knees, face with a faint focused frown as you cupped his tip, moving your hand in circles.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, the sensitive area of his dick getting the attention he needed was sending him out of orbit, and you were using just your hands.

“You– You have to stop,” he said as he gently held your wrist, halting your movements. His closed eyes prevented him from noticing your guilty expression, until he heard your voice.

“Sorry,” you murmured quietly, thinking you have done something wrong.

“No, baby. It’s not– I almost came,” he admitted. You didn’t know simple words could make your body heat that fast, your stomach instantly did a flip with his sincere confession.

Heeseung’s lips met yours right away, his body leaning forward so you both could go back to the previous position.

He placed himself in between your open legs, his gaze softening as he watched your anxious face. “I’m going to prepare you,” he explained with a low voice, kissing your neck as his hands went down to find your folds, touching you to collect your arousal and use it to lubricate his finger, “Don’t forget, your word is what guides me.”

Your body fully tensed when he pressed his digit near your entrance, “Relax, my love,” he murmured and kissed your cheek and then your lips. Your heart fluttered with the pet name. “I’ve got you, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes tightly, afraid of the pain you were so sure you would feel, however, Heeseung’s light touches on your sensitive area and the kisses he spread over your face got you distracted, almost making you miss when he slid a finger inside you. Your breath got stuck on your throat and he didn’t move, waiting for your body to adjust to the new intruder.

“I’ve never– I’ve never ever put anything inside me before, so it’s all new,” you admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief for verbalizing your discomfort.

“Yeah? You’re doing great, angel.” Heeseung encouraged, gently pulling his finger out while kissing you. You squirmed, a bit uncomfortable. “Such a good girl for me, mhm?”

His wording caused you to clench involuntarily around his finger, a reaction that didn’t went unnoticed by Heeseung. He kept kindly pumping his single finger inside you, teasing to add one more as you whined against his mouth, while he whispered sweet words of encouragement.

“You feel so amazing,” Heeseung said, and something popped into his mind. He decided to test the waters with a dirtier talk, his hot breath tickling your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you around me, so tight and wet,” he kissed your earlobe, his husky voice and words making you whole body shiver, “I promise, Y/N, I’ll make you feel so good,” his teeth nibbled your sensitive spot on your neck and you slightly arched your back, moaning, not even noticing when his second finger entered you.

You were panting a bit, messily whining and squirming, your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping it firmly, forcing him into your neck.

“You’re so tight, I don’t think I’ll last long when I get inside you,” Heeseung sounded muffled, loving the way you squeezed even more around his digits. “Can you feel how my fingers stretch you so well, baby?” His question sounded rhetorical to you, because it was obvious you felt the way he stretched you so amazingly good, your toes curling just by that.

“Hee, please–” You pleaded not quite sure what you were asking for, but your eyes locked onto his with a desperate need. His fingers worked so perfectly inside you, making you wonder how you could be so close to tearing, yearning for his dick, which you never ever had before.

Heeseung grinned, eyes dripping with desire and fondness, wandering your whole body as he removed his digits from you.

“My baby seems a bit desperate, doesn't she?” He teased, chuckling. You watched as he coated his dick with a condom, jerking it off with the precum he collected before to prepare himself for you, never breaking eye contact. He leaned closer. “Don’t worry, I’m just as desperate as you are, my love,” and with that he positioned his tip in your entrance.

You tensed again, but Heeseung's sharp instincts caught the subtle change in your reaction. To help you relax, he covered one of your nipples with his mouth, warm lips sucking the sensitive area, making you moan. His body pressed into yours distracting you from the pain as well.

“Ah–” you gasped, frowning with a flicker of discomfort as he slid his dick inside you; your hands grabbed his shoulders, squeezing with a certain strength as you tried to get over the burning feeling in your cunt.

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity, his sensitive cock aching with your walls tightening around it, so eager for some more friction. He had to dig self control from the deepest place of his mind in order to keep going.

“Shh. I’ve got you, my love,” he kissed your wrist, and then your shoulder, and then your neck, and then your cheeks, and finally your lips, while slowly getting himself fully inside of you, moaning as he did so. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, loving how messy you were kissing him, your expression changing little by little from a discomfortable to a pleasant one.

Heeseung remained still for a moment, making out with you while waiting for your body to adjust to his dick. You gently waved your hips forward with a little groan at some point, a silent plea to get more of what he was offering you, and he got the sign immediately.

With a tender smile and after pressing his lips in yours once more, Heeseung began to move, thrusting into you with a necessary slowness at first, that became unneeded the second you started to feel only the delight of being full.

His tip rubbed a certain spot in you that made you flutter your eyes shut while rolling them, moaning loud.

“You liked that, angel?” He asked, desperate to pound harder and faster onto you, still controlling himself. “Tell me, please,” he looked at your lips parted, his name being the only thing coming out of them.

“Y–yes, Hee. It’s so fucking good– Ah,” you threw your head back in the pillow, his response to your compliment making him thrust deeper. “You feel so good, fuck.”

Needless to say that your praise to Heeseung’s work was enough for him to almost fully lose his inner battle of going easier with you. His head rested beside yours and while his movements grew faster, your voice got louder and louder; your fingernails sinking into the skin of his back, his moan close to your ear making you see stars with the overwhelming feeling.

“I’m close,” you whispered, feeling the known knot on your stomach growing stronger as Heeseung kept pounding into your g-spot. You opened your eyes to lock eyes with him, who already had positioned himself to do the same – both of you wanting to see each other reaching their respective climax.

“Come for me, princess,” he demanded with a groan. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

The view of Heeseung’s forehead damped in sweat with strand of hairs sticking to it, his parted lips every so often being bit by his teeth while letting out the prettiest sounds and his heavy breaths, his eyes showing your affection, desire, urgency in achieving his own release, and his dirty words, all of it blended together, worked perfectly for you to achieve your orgasm.

A strong wave of desperation and pleasure ran over your body and took you milliseconds to cum all over Heeseung’s dick with a loud moan, your pussy tightening harder around his cock while he drove you through your high at the same time he chased for his own.

“Fuck,” Heeseung moaned, keeping thrusting faster and faster, a frown of concentration adorning his forehead and then he saw you, pretty face contorted in pleasure, your mouth letting out the hottest moans of his name. You felt his cum filling up the condom inside you the same time he moaned your name, making you hiss while he pumped into you a bit more. Eventually he removed himself from you, flopping into your body, tired.

You thought you just had hit cloud nine with the amount of joy and excitement running inside you. A sense of realization making you smile brightly. You enjoyed the sound of your respirations working its best to recompose itself and Heeseung’s heartbeats against your chest.

“I have to say,” your voice came out a bit husky as you lovingly caressed Heeseung’s sweaty back. “Now I do accept the food.”

You heard Heeseung chuckle on your neck, before he kissed there and then your lips. “Yeah, me too.”

The morning after your first night together with Heeseung was filled with doubts.

After the sex, you both got cleaned up and ate the said delivery while watching something on the tv.

Obviously Heeseung didn’t let you go back to your dorm, needing to feel your warm embrace as much as possible. So you two slept together on his big bed, cuddling.

But then you woke up earlier than him, and you took your sweet time to appreciate his serene expression, deep in his sleep – his soft breath, his pretty eyelashes, his slightly parted lips. You sighed, a weird feeling eating away you inside, afraid of being left alone after the last night.

What if he said all of that just to have you one time? What if he did all he did just for that moment to happen? What if he didn’t really mean any of his words? What if he didn’t enjoyed it the way you did?

“What’s with the frown?”

You startled with Heeseung’s groggy voice breaking the silence of the room. “Nothing,” you awkwardly smiled and of course Heeseung didn’t buy it.

“Tell me,” he blinked slowly to focus on your pretty face, snuggling his body into yours. “Tell me what’s going on in this pretty head of yours, my love.”

You gulped, heart racing with his new way of calling you.

Love.

You got lost in your mind for a while before asking “Will you leave me now?” The question came out a bit more stupid than you expected, but at the same time, it was sincere.

Heeseung propped himself up on his elbow to give you a proper look. He removed the hair from your face with a gentle touch, caressing your cheeks with the same amount of care. His voice sounded low. “No,” he shook his head, eyes full of adoration, endearment, and love. “I’ll not leave you. Actually, I’m even more attached to you, my love,” his, oh, so known smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to.”

You hurried to shake your head, taking in every detail of his pretty features.

“Then I’m staying, and I’ll be taking anything you offer to me,” Heeseung kissed your lips in a different way. Slow, tender, filled with this new emotion – love.

You parted the kiss to look into his sparkly eyes, smiling.

“Then I offer you my everything, Heeseung.”

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heegyukeluv works

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chuluoyi · 10 months

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✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

8K notes · View notes

gojonanami · 4 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 !! ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S YOUR THESIS ADVISOR !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (yuta x f!reader) (part six of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: just when you had moved on, suguru is back in your life as your thesis advisor, and what choice do you have but to deal -- deal with lingering feelings from your breakup, but also yuta's. and through this, you both find out what you all owe to each other.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, post breakup, dealing with exes, insecurity, semi-exhibitionism, desk sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, multiple orgasms, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, fanart by @ / kyrraen (pls go follow them, they are so talented)

Suguru never had believed in fate before — before he met you.

And now it seemed fate had its own plans for the both of you — pulling you together, even when he had tried his best to push the two of you apart. Try he had, and in the end, you both ended up back where you had started — seated across from each other with a pile of papers littered with red pen.

Except now he himself had found himself littered with you — your tie pin you had given him, the way his fingers wanted to smooth your brow with a kiss as it furrowed while you flipped through your proposal, and how his heart felt whole from the moment you walked in the room. And he knew he would be littered with your marks all his life, more permanent than ink — and he would never be able rid himself of them.

Or of you.

When Yaga had come to him with the news, it was already too much to handle. He was being re-assigned to Tokyo to handle duties for both schools for a time — until someone stepped up to handle Kyoto. Yaga didn’t trust anyone else — and since Suguru had worked at Tokyo longer, it made sense to have him go back.

But then the question of you — the reminder came on the form of your email during their meeting — and you came into his world again the same way you did before — an email for a meeting. But it wasn’t for him.

Not yet at least.

It was hard to know what to do, or what you would want. Yaga could have you re-assigned, but the thesis you were working on was in Suguru’s specialty and he knew half the reason you had asked Yaga was to have a department head listed on your thesis. And to rob you of that wasn’t a choice he wanted to make for you.

He’s done enough of that to you. And he had done it for your future — and he would do this for your future, if you wanted him to.

You’re speechless when he breaks the news to you — as he expected you would be. But his surprise comes when you reply — he expected anger, frustration, a straight out refusal to work with him — but he did not get any of those — he only got quiet acceptance.

“Fine, should we stick to the same schedule that Yaga and I agreed to?” And Suguru takes a minute, leaning back in his chair, “what?”

“I just…I didn’t expect you to accept so readily,” he replies softly, choosing his words carefully, “in my email, I said you could take time to think about it or we could procure a different advisor—“

“Professor,” the word sticks in his chest like a right dagger that barely misses his heart, “out of everyone who works in this department I know you are the only one who is capable of pushing me to be my best, even when I don’t ask for it,” you add under your breath, “especially when I don’t ask for it,”

A hollow chuckle is stuck in his throat, “If you’re sure, it’s your choice,” and he’s looking for a few notes and edits he had written out for you for the schedule you sent along previously.

“It is my choice,” you echo, your eyes meet his, as he looks up from the papers strewn about the desk, “and I choose this,” and he knows all too well what you mean by your deliberate choice of words— and he did love you for your cutting tongue.

Even when it was used against him.

“If you do, then can you choose to come to my old office?” And you’re blinking, brow furrowing — and his cheeks burn, “I left your schedule there — I had a few notes regarding my own schedule,”

You raise an eyebrow, a flicker of a smart remark on the tip of your tongue that you seemingly swallow, as you gather the proposal into your bag, “let’s go,”

The walk over is in relative silence, the campus mostly quiet with the impending end of the semester at bay — as he forces his gaze forward, but that doesn’t stop his traitorous eyes from sneaking glances all the same. Why was it that he was a lighthouse and his eyes were spotlights only made to find your ship on the dark waves of the sea.

And you stop in your tracks, a glance at your face doesn’t give him the answer — but another face does.

“Yuta?” And he’s holding your lunch bag — the same one you insisted on taking with you, refusing to spend more money on the overpriced lunch on campus. And the realization hits him all at once, and he’s suddenly toppling headfirst into the waves.

“You forgot your lunch,” Yuta offers an awkward smile — and Suguru’s eyes find your face again, right before he goes under — the same soft look you gave him.

Used to give him.

And he lets the water overtake him.

~~~

“You forgot your lunch,”

And you never thought a rushed morning would lead to the most awkward moment of your life. Yuta glances between you and Suguru, as you step forward to take your lunch from his hand, your fingers intertwining with his, as if to ground yourself.

“Yuta, this is Professor Geto, he taught one of the classes I took and he’s taking over as my thesis advisor,” and you’re only lucky Suguru is able to tuck away emotions so easily, a polite smile on his lips as he offers his hand to Yuta, “this is Yuta, my boyfriend,”

You can’t meet Suguru’s gaze as you say it — but you wonder what you would find — hurt, anger, or nothing at all? And you couldn’t figure out which would hurt the most.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Suguru says, before shaking his hand, and Yuta nods.

“Likewise,” and Suguru turns to you, hands slipping into his pockets, while yours remained laced with Yuta’s — but how long ago would it had been intertwined in his? “On second thought, I’ll email you my edits to your thesis schedule, I’ll leave you both to the rest of your day,” he gives a stiff smile, before heading on his way.

And he knew this was a future of his own making — the consequences of his own actions.

He gives a bitter chuckle. Consequentialism — the morality is centered around creating the right consequences — and wasn’t it right? Right for you to be happy with someone your age? Right to be with someone who you can hold their hand and be with? Right to be with someone who can give you everything and anything you want?

“I understand the intention of consequentialism, but it just feels so pointless,” you had said while the two of you sat watching TV on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap, the comfortable warmth of your head resting on his shoulder.

“That’s not where I thought your mind was,” Suguru had chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but still he indulged, “the point is to get as much good as possible out of a decision correct? The most happiness?”

Your brow remained furrowed, “But the problem is the cost of it — it can come at the cost of your own happiness if it’s creating the right consequences,”

“That’s more utilitarianism—“ and you shrug.

“I understand it’s more complicated, but I don’t see the value in making decisions like that — doesn’t it defeat the purpose because you’re doing it for the outcome — without considering your feelings or the others? You’re nothing more than a happiness pump,”

And as he sneaks a glance back, watching you and Yuta stand there still, fingers still intertwined, his fingers squeeze the handle of his bag, is that why it feels so wrong?

He arrived back at his office, fingers turning the knob and finding an empty tomb — the walls stripped down to the bare, a thick layer of dust that clung to the surfaces, the couch he had in the corner of the room likely relocated to another office — that he thought he had finally left behind. But here he was again — right back where he started.

He dragged his finger through the dust on his desk. Was he nothing more than a happiness pump? Giving himself pain for the sake of others’ happiness — and was the outcome worth it? But he’s swallowing down his pain — a bitter consequence he had to take — because he knew — he would take any pain, if it meant you were happy.

And you were.

Right?

~~~

Yuta knew — he did even before he had started to date you. Or rather, he had suspected. But now he knew.

The first time he saw the two of you bump into each other, he knew because of the way Geto looked at you — and even the way you looked at him — the hurt flickering in your gaze, even when you refused to look at him.

Professor Geto has been much more than a professor to you — he was your boyfriend, the same one Yuta had envied for so many months. Only for him to be back in your life again. And he felt like he was right back to where he had started in your life again — a friend.

And there wasn’t a thing wrong with being your friend — but now that he was more than one, he knew he only wanted even more of you — and to give more of himself. If you would let him.

But when your fingers curled around his, ‘boyfriend’ slipping from your lips, assuaged his anxiety for a moment, but as he watched your eyes find the back of Geto’s head after he left, it all came back.

Your fingers squeeze his, “Thank you for bringing my lunch, Yu,” and it brings him back to the moment, and your face is so readable in this moment — as if to make up for the times he couldn’t make sense of you — searching for an indication that he knew, an implication of his emotions, a question unspoken to ask if he knew.

And he did.

“Of course, baby,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, and he wants to tell you he does, wants to ask you why you hid it, why you felt you couldn’t be honest, and why you look like you’re still as heartbroken as the day he ran into you outside this building, “I have to go, but I’ll see you later,” but he doesn’t ask.

“Yuta—“ but he’s only pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, fingers cupping his cheek.

“I love you,” and your lips curl into a small smile.

“I love you too,” and it was enough, he thought, as his fingers parted from yours, and he turned to leave.

It was enough, for now.

~~~

How do you tell someone something they already know? You snuck glances at your own boyfriend after dinner, as the two of you settled in to watch something to unwind. The day had gone by as expected, but the crawling anxiety only grew as more time passed, the words wanting nothing more than to leave your mouth.

Why was it you when you had so much to say you couldn’t say it? And now when you had to explain, no words could leave your lips?

God, how the fuck did you catch yourself in this mess? Your ex as your thesis advisor — was this karma for being unethical? A cruel consequence of the choices you made? Maybe fate? No, it wasn’t fate. Things were better without Suguru in your life, simpler and easier. And you were happy — but now this, this just had the potential to ruin everything.

But only if you let it.

And the longer you went without discussing this, the more damage it would be. It was a secret you had chosen to keep — you didn’t think it was pertinent, especially with Suguru in Kyoto. It was a detail you could spare, at least until after you graduated,

But now it couldn’t wait.

It was a piano hanging by a string that’s already snapped and it was on its last fibers, swinging back and forth, waiting to see whether you would push Yuta and yourself out of the way — or whether one or both of you would get crushed in the process.

The walk back to your apartment is an exercise in coping mechanisms to prevent panic or anxiety from settling fully into your skin, holding the string together with your arms seemingly, ready for it to tear you apart.

But it doesn’t.

“I have to talk to you,” you say once you and Yuta are sitting on the couch, one leg tucked under the other to prevent you from shaking it, or running away for that matter, “it’s nothing bad — well, I mean it’s not—“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head, “just know I love you, and that hasn’t changed—“

And his lips find yours, cutting off your frantic thoughts with a sweet kiss that only leaves you wanting more, but also leaves you with more questions than answers.

He pulls away, a small smile on his lips, “Breath “ and you sigh, taking a breath, “and I love you too,” your fingers interlace with his, “what is it?”

But you don’t even know where to begin, except at the point, “You know the ex that broke my heart before we dated?” And he’s nodding, “Professor Geto is—“

“Is your ex,” he finishes, and you knew he had figured out, but you hadn’t expected it to come out so matter-of-factly, “I had a feeling and this morning confirmed it,”

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “after he moved, I never thought he would move back, much less become my thesis advisor,” you bury your face in your hands, “and I don’t want you to think I was hiding it. It’s just with the relationship being taboo, I didn’t think—“

“You were trying to protect yourself and your ex, it’s understandable,” he squeezes your hand, “you couldn’t have expected this to happen,”

And you’re lifting your gaze to his, “How are you so calm? How are you so…okay?”

He gives a sigh, “it’s hard, I’m trying to stay rational for you — for us,” you lean against him, “what are you going to do? About your thesis?”

“I think I’ll have to take Suguru as my advisor. I don’t have much of a choice,” you bite your lip, “I could take another, but no other professor has the same specialization as Yaga, except Geto, and I know he’ll give me good feedback,”

“But?” You rest your head in your hand.

“But having to spend that much time with my ex? Having to work on something so important to my career with him? Having to put you through that?” you feel more lost than when you began this conversation, “I don’t know what to do. I already agreed to it, but I think it’s only sinking in,” and you turn to him, “and then there’s you,”

“What about me?” and you shake your head.

“How can I put you through watching me spending hours with my ex over the next semester?” And Yuta shakes your head.

“A decision important to your future shouldn’t just be based on me, it should be about you,” and you purse your lips — another reason why Yuta was so sweet, as you lean against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t deserve you,” he chuckles, running his fingers through your hair, “I’ll keep him as my advisor for now, but if you have a problem, please talk to me okay?” You lean back to look at him, “please?”

“Of course,” and his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, “and you always deserve me — because I chose you.” You kissed him, his arms curling around you, as you leaned into his touch — the one place that always felt safe.

And you didn’t know that he just hoped — you’d choose him too.

~~~

Fuck. How was it you found yourself before Professor Geto’s door yet again?

Winter break had flown by and now you found yourself back in the office you thought you had left behind not so long ago. Even if it felt like forever. You had spent your time split between working on your thesis, with the edits to your outline that Suguru had provided you, and with Yuta — who was more endlessly understanding than you could have hoped to imagine. And even today, as you headed off to meet Suguru in his office, he had nothing but soothing words for your nerves, sweet kisses, and a promise for a good meal when you got home.

You hovered before the door of his office — no matter what had happened throughout these months, why did it always feel as if you always ended up here? Pulled against your will into a rotation around him — one that would have you stuck into a constant push and pull — and just when you had let go of his grip, you were pulled back in. And as your fist hovered next to the door, bracing to knock, you weren’t sure if you were ready to fall back in.

But what you didn’t know as you stood before the door was that the man behind it was more anxious about this meeting than you were.

~~~

“You’re early,” Suguru glances up from his paperwork, his top of his pen pressed to the seam of his lips, “for once,”

Suguru himself had nearly been late this morning — ever the hypocrite, he supposed. He could barely sleep the night before, spent catching up on the work piled up for two department heads while the Kyoto campus makes potential temporary candidates jump through hoops. And then there was the other reason, his meeting with you — and all the complicated feelings he didn’t wish to entangle himself in. And yet he always fell deeper into your web, as if he didn’t willingly ensnare himself to begin with.

He didn’t even know Yaga was sick, but he had seen the change in him. The subtle differences in his demeanor, the bags around his eyes, and the creeping slowness that came with illness. But it still hit like a gut punch to hear it from his mouth, and for him to ask to take over duties for him was a double edged blade of honor and complication.

Yaga had given him the option to turn it down: to keep managing everything from Kyoto — but he accepted anyway — accepted because he knew that you’d be out of a thesis advisor. And he would be left unable to help from Kyoto with the in person role an advisor played.

And so he was here.

When he finally had gotten to lay down, eyes fixed on the familiar ceiling fan again — as he had managed to get his old apartment back by some miracle — and he hates how this place is a husk of itself without you here. But even with you here before him, his eyes snuck at glance at you, it somehow was worse being with you — when he was nothing to you. He could bear to not be your lover, but he couldn’t bear the weight of your hatred, or worse, your indifference.

You cross your arms, your laptop bag draped on your shoulder, “You’ll never let that go until one of us is dead will you?”

“That’s assuming we wouldn’t haunt the other,” he replies without missing a beat, as you take a seat across from him, eyes taking in his office. The same set up from before, if not a little less ostentatious and obnoxious — a few missing pictures and awards tucked away, the missing luxury sofa, and the lack of leather bound books lining shelves, instead minimally decorated with a few select titles — including What Do We Owe Each Other, prominently displayed.

“I have better things to do than haunt you,” you scoff, pulling out your laptop from your bag, “did you forget to finish unpacking?” And he doesn’t offer even a look up at your remark.

“No, just decided to take a certain person’s advice and try to take a less pretentious approach to my office,” his lips curled in that damnable wry smile of his, “plus not everything has been sent back from Kyoto yet,” and he leans forward, plucking your revised thesis outline from the neat piles lined up on his desk, “but my office decor isn’t why we’re here,” he flips through his notes on your draft, “the outline is in good shape, have you started on your draft?”

You pull a stapled stack out to slide to him, “I have fleshed out some of my main points and I wanted your thoughts before I dove further,” and he takes it before scanning through it, silent as he peruses the contents.

His eyes flit up, “You didn’t have to wait for my approval—“

“I know, but I value your opinion,” you grumble, eyes averted as you admit it, a graze of your teeth against the bottom of your lip. It draws a small smile from him, hidden away behind his closed fist pressed to his lips, “as my advisor,” you add, and he nods.

The meeting finished up with much else, as you slide your laptop and things back into your bag. And for the first time your eyes meet his.

“Have you been sleeping okay?” and he’s blinking a moment, as you continue, “you look tired. You should sleep more instead of working,”

He furrows his brow, “I am slee—“

“You have bags under your eyes, Professor,” you roll your eyes, “listen or don’t, but I rather my thesis isn’t re-assigned last minute because you ran yourself into the ground,” you say before turning to leave.

“I expect your next draft by the beginning of the next week,” and you pause, the click of the knob as you pull the door open.

“I’ll have it to you by the end of the week.” And you’re gone, door shutting behind you, and he leans back in his chair, a smile that he can’t quite hide on his lips.

Maybe he wasn’t quite nothing to you after all.

~~~

“I’m home, baby,” you say, as you walk in, the burden of the day still in the process of sliding off your back as you passed through the threshold of your apartment. You stripped yourself of your cost and your shoes, hanging your bag up, “Yu?”

You checked your phone with no text or call from him — he said he would be at your place, and that’s when you spot a familiar mop of black hair from the couch. Your lips curl as you round the couch, only to find him fast asleep, his work spread out around him. His first day back seemed as stressful as yours, and yet he hadn’t complained.

His bags were dark — a product of a bad night’s sleep — a running trend for today seemingly. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, knowing he wouldn’t wake simply by that, but you heard the quiet mumble of words you couldn’t catch. You glanced at the kitchen and found dinner prepped but not made. You smile softly, as you take the throw blanket and gently spread it over him, before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and then rising to your feet.

You’re almost done cooking curry when Yuta stirs, the smell of the stewing beef and spices waking him, as he lifts his head, back of his hand rubbing his eye, while he glances at you with the other.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” your lips curl, doing a bad job of stifling your chuckle at the sight of his black hair askew, “dinner is almost ready,”

“Dinner? When did you get—“ and he picks up his phone to check the time, a small groan stuck in his throat, “why didn’t you wake me when you got home?”

“I would have,” you wipe off your hands, as you make your way to the living room, as Yuta swings his legs off the couch, scrubbing a hand down his face, “but you’re so cute when you’re sleeping,” and his cheeks flush an ever so subtle pink — even after this time together, it was so easy to fluster him, “plus, it looked like you needed it,”

Your hand brushes his cheek, and he’s leaning into your touch, your other hand running fingers through his hair to straighten it out, “I did,” he mumbles, “it was a long day,”

“Want to talk about it over some rice and curry?” and he bites his lip, before he leans in to press a sweet kiss to you, delighting in the desperate look he gives you when you drag your tongue teasingly against the seam of his lips only to pull away, “don’t pout,” you drag your thumb down his lips, “I’ll kiss you plenty after dinner,”

“Promise?” And you drag him to his feet and he’s walking to the bathroom as you’re opening cabinets to take plates out, only for his arms to wrap around your middle, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

You chuckle, biting back the shiver that runs up your spine at the warmth of his touch, “what’s that for?”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze with umbra eyes that has you lost in the only inky black sky you craved.

“Of course, Yu,” you murmur before his lips find yours again, and you just wished you could live in this moment, as he parted from your lips only to press another kiss to your cheek, but you supposed you could—

—For now at least.

“She’s what?” Maki stares at Yuta as he rubs the back of his head, her words nearly ringing out in the empty conference room, “she’s spending a bunch of time with her ex and you’re ok with it?”

Yuta has made a mistake — the mistake of being twenty minutes early to this student government meeting only to find Maki here alone, scrolling on her phone. Her eyes flitting up only for her to tilt her head and bark:

“Oi, what is it now?” And Yuta didn’t know if he liked being so seen by her.

Especially now that he was being judged for his decisions — or rather, raked over the coals for them.

Yuta purses his lips, “I’m not exactly okay with it, but I don’t know what to do. She has to work on her project with him — I guess, how could I object?” And how could he? Your omission made sense, you were only trying to protect your reputation— and your ex’s by extension. But it didn’t make it sting any less.

“Doesn’t she have another choice? Couldn’t she work with someone else?” Maki crosses her arms, eyes narrowed, as if she can detect the holes in his lies by pure reflex, “aren’t you worried she’ll go back to him?” And voices every worry almost if she’s ripped it from his mind itself.

“I am, she does have other choices, but I couldn’t be the one to make her choices for her—“

“But you couldn’t tell her how you felt about it?” Maki shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose as if this conversation is giving her a headache — or more likely, he’s giving her a headache, “how do you feel?”

Yuta chews his lip, leaning on his arm on the table, “I don’t know, I understand it’s just a project — it’s something for her future — I don’t want to make things more complicated for us,” he mumbles.

“You mean for her—and for your relationship,” Maki crosses her arms, tilting her head, “Yuta, if you can’t be honest with her, what’s the point of this relationship?” And people start to file into the room for the meeting, so she hisses in a whisper, “you need to figure out what you want — and how to tell her how you’re feeling because it’s going to eat you alive or drive her into her ex’s arms — either way, you won’t be in this relationship,”

And on that bleak note, she gets to her feet to corral everyone into their seats, leaving him to simmer in her words. His phone lighting up nearly on cue with a text from you—

Can’t make the meeting this week, babe — Geto rescheduled my meeting with him this week for now, so I’m headed there

A hint of irritation pricks at him — it had to be today, during the only time that they had together at school?

Another message comes through.

I’ll see you at your place after the meeting - love you 💕

He locks his phone, tucking it away in his pocket — as Maki starts the meeting.

It was fine — he would see you at home. It didn’t matter — Geto had only these meetings, Yuta had much more of you. It was fine.

He forced his gaze forward, a gnawing dread in his stomach. Right?

“What do you mean it was expected?”

You were starting to remember the reason why you hated this man so vehemently when you first met him. His nearly smug expression made you want to leap across the desk and strangle him — though you knew the consequences of that action wouldn’t turn out well for you — nor the proximity for that matter, “what I wrote—“

“Is what others have written in papers time and time again,” he cuts you off, and you slump back in your chair, as you flip through the red inked comments he had so thoughtfully ripped apart your first few pages — the precise cuts and slashes enough for red ink to look like blood, “your thesis needs to be a unique take—”

“And now it isn’t unique enough?” you grumble, crossing your arms, as your cheeks burn, “soon you’ll be saying I’m rambling again,”

“No, I was able to rid you of that habit a while ago,” you glare at him, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “I would be concerned if you started to regress,”

“Well, at least it would only be academically,” the words spit like venom from your mouth without a thought, but the hurt that flickers across his face is one that seemingly has too much thought behind it, “sorry, that was inappropriate,”

“It’s fine,” the hurt is gone from his expression, as unreadable as it always was, “to get back to our discussion, I know you want this paper to be published by journals, and in order to do that, you need to have a perspective that hasn’t been explored before—at least not fully. Your outline reflects that, but your paper is regurgitating ideas that you’ve read,” he’s handing you a list of papers and books, with some noted passages, “read some of these materials, it might help give you some ideas to rework your paper,” and then he adds, “and you knew I’d say this,”

You knit your brow together, “What?”

He leans against his arm propped against the top of his desk, “Why else would you want me to see if you were going in the right direction? You always have an idea what you want to write, of where you want your paper to go — and you never wanted my greenlight for a long time now,”

You hate how he can still see right through you — you hate how easily he can pinpoint your problem without you uttering a helpful word. Even before, it always felt as if he was the only one who saw you, without you having to explain a single thing.

“You’re right,” and he hated how right he was, “I wasn’t sure where I was going,” this thesis had been weighing on your mind day and night, pricking at your nerves each time you stared at the blinking cursor of the document, “I still don’t,”

Suguru murmurs your name softly, his gaze as gentle as it always has been for you, a part of you hoped — only for you, “As I’ve always said, the only reason why I push you is because I know you can do more. This thesis would be outstanding for many scholars, but I know you can do more,” he tilts his head, small smile on his lips, “and I know you still can,”

“What if I can’t?” The question slips out before you can even think it, and he raises an eyebrow.

“There is no ‘what if,’ I know you can do it,” and you bite your lip, “i don’t have any doubts,”

“Not even one?” You reply, an eyebrow quirked.

“Not when it comes to you,” and he said just what you wanted to hear, but you hated it all the more — because how did he know you so well? How did he know you so well and yet not know to talk to you before breaking your heart?

But it didn’t matter now. And you couldn’t trudge up these feelings now, or maybe ever.

“I’ll read these materials and rework it,” and you begin to collect your things all the while, getting to your feet.

“Good,” and you catch sight of his smile in the reflection of your phone, “it’s what you owe yourself.”

And your eyes meet his for a moment, so why couldn’t he give you what he owed you before?

“Thank you, Professor.”

“I’m back,” you call out in Yuta’s apartment, tucking your keys away into your bag, as you slip your shoes off and shrugging off your jacket, but you hear nothing in response, “Yuta?” But not a sound — no quiet voices of the TV, the clatter of dishes and utensils in the kitchen, and no sign of him in the bedroom either.

You check your phone, as you sit on the edge of the bed, creaking under your weight, and you see his text: sorry baby, Maki took the group out for dinner after, you’re free to join us. And the address is sent underneath.

But the text was well over twenty minutes ago, and it would take you longer to get there — which meant dinner would nearly be over. You laid back on his bed on your side, typing a reply.

Sorry Yu, just saw this :(. I’ll come next time. I’ll make something up fast and probably lie down. I’ll see you at home.

You curl up on the bed, placing your phone down with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your nose turned into his sheets, Yuta’s scent flooding your senses, and you could nearly feel his arms around you. Almost.

God, you missed him — especially you two just kept missing each other like this — and it made it all the more important you stayed awake.

Your eyes flutter open, the sweet siren of sleep growing all the more tempting, a late lunch sitting like stones in your stomach and the need for the sandman’s relief growing headier.

And before you knew it, your legs were tucked under the comforter and your eyes succumbed to their own weight.

Your soft breaths filled the silence of the apartment, and even as Yuta came in an hour or so later, only to find you sprawled out messily in his bed, phone still in your hand, did he chuckle. His hands are gentle as he guides you into a normal position for sleep that wouldn’t fuck over your back, putting your phone on charge, and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

And as he leaves the room to shower, not hearing the quiet murmur of his name leaving your lips.

“You have to try a little,” you’re nearly waving your ice cream cone in front of Yuta’s face, soft serve dripping onto the pavement, and the soft pink swirl threatening to topple over in front of your eyes, but the risk of losing your beloved ice cream was not as important as advocating for it, “c’mon it’s so good—”

“Baby, the ice cream is supposed to be your treat for all the progress you’ve made on your thesis, not a taste test, and I have my own flavor—” but as the ice cream hovers in front of his face, Yuta tastes it — the subtle sakura flavor lingering on his tongue, “it’s good,” he concedes, “but not as good as my matcha,”

It had been a lot to tear you away from your work — it had been weeks in the making of trying to get you to take a break that wasn’t you falling asleep on the couch with your laptop and notes strewn about or a mindless TV break. And the times you both were supposed to have together often ended with one of you being busy or falling asleep. He barely remembered the last time the two of you had spent together that didn’t involve takeout or the couch.

You pout, “Sakura is so much better,” you grumble, licking at your ice cream, trying to stem the excess melting off the sides of your waffle cone, and he chuckles, as a little of your ice cream sticks to your nose.

“More for you then right?” he’s pulling a tissue out to wipe your nose and lips before kissing them, “Mm, it’s sweeter on your lips,” and he knows your cheeks are burning as you avert your eyes, biting your lip.

“You’re the worst,” and he laughs, as he wraps his arm around your middle, “but I’ll say you’re right about today. This date was definitely needed,” you lean into his touch, still working on your ice cream, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not just you that’s busy—”

“I know, but it’s mostly been me,” your eyes find his, and he wavers under your glance, “I know we haven’t had a lot of time together, and I promise, it’s only going to last a little longer, once I’m done with my thesis I’m all yours,”

And it’s hard for him to believe that — but he tries, because he knows you are.

“I know,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’m just glad we got to do this today, I just feel like we keep missing each other, and it just…it’s been bothering me,”

And you kiss his jaw, before softly smiling, “You’re not alone,” and his lips find yours again, and again, ice cream starting to run down his fingers and palm, but he could care less about anything else but you at this moment, “You’re gonna make me drop my ice cream,”

“I’ll buy you another,” and you laugh, kissing him this time, and he melts just like the ice cream into your grasp, your arms wrapped around him tight, “now who’s making our ice cream melt?”

“You said you’d buy me another anyway,” you nuzzle his neck, “plus I have to leave space to eat you up later,” and you giggle as his cheeks burn, “you blush so easily still, thought you would be used to my teasing by now,”

“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, still feels like a dream,” you pinch his cheek in reply, a smirk on your lips, as you kiss the skin that you pinched.

“Now, it’s not a dream, is it?” And right as your lips were about to meet his again—

RING. RING. RING.

Your brow furrows as you ignore it at first, before a sigh catches in your throat, “hold on—“ you check your messages, your brow furrowing, “fuck,” you swear under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” And you’re tossing your ice cream in a nearby trash can, wiping your hand with one of the tissues the ice cream place had handed you, before texting back.

“Geto wants to meet today about my thesis. Apparently some departmental meetings got pushed around, and today is the only day he can meet in person—“

“Do you have to—“ and you’re shaking your head in exasperation, burying your face in your hands.

“I have no choice. It’s the only time until a week and half from now, and I can’t wait to get this feedback, otherwise it will throw off my entire schedule—“

“But this is the only time we can meet,” he cuts you off, voice catching on the words, as his tongue is caught between holding it and wagging it, “I miss you, baby, we haven’t seen each other in weeks because of our schedules, because of your thesis—“ because of him, “when will our relationship take priority? When will I be important enough to matter?”

“Yuta,” your voice breaks, “of course you matter to me—“ and your phone vibrates again, cutting you off, and he takes a beat and a breath. He swallows thickly, this wasn’t the right time for this.

But when would it be?

“Go,” he says, and your eyebrows knit together, lips parting to refuse, “I’m okay, really. We’ll talk when you get home,” but he’s stepping towards you, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “promise, we’re ok. Just go. I’ll call you.”

“You sure?” He wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if he should let you go or stand his ground — but, his fingers cupped your cheek, and kissed your lips — but he was sure that he loved you.

“I’m sure,” and he wanted what was best for you — and he watches you leave after you say your farewells — even if it wasn’t best for him.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this.

Agreed to take this meeting over your date. Agreed to meet in the lecture hall instead of his office. Agreed to have him as your thesis advisor. Agreed to even take a course with him to begin with. You were several steps too close to regret being born, but your real mistake was ever pursuing this man to begin with.

That was your mistake — and now you are reaping what you sow.

Literally.

“Your lecture was compelling — I have so much to learn from you,” you stood outside his lecture hall as students filed out quicker than usual, without the typical quorum that formed after every one of his classes — only to find the reason that a single person commanded his attention, “I didn’t realize how wonderfully interesting philosophy could be as a topic,” her voice already grates on your ears, the elongated syllables of her words nearly enough for you to roll your eyes into the back of your head so far that you were they would get stuck.

“It’s a fine line between interesting and dry, I’m glad I could walk it for you, Mei Mei,” and you could hear the smile in his tone, the saccharine sweetness enough for you to choke on and die of excess sugar, but unfortunately you don’t, so you have to hear the rest of this conversation.

“I’m so glad I took Satoru’s advice to see your lecture, it was definitely eye opening,” and you furrow your brow, “he’s been asking me about you — he told me if I stopped by to have you call him,”

You purse your lips — Satoru?

A sigh in his voice as he speaks “He sent a real messenger this time? I get his texts, I have been really busy with my duties—“

“You know what they say — about all work and no play?” You hear the click of heels against the floor, as she assuredly steps closer, “maybe I can help you with the play—“

You knock on the door then, hand possessed, as you spot the woman with whom the voice belonged — her long silver locks tied into a braid that hung past her shoulders, her dark eyes finding yours and brow arched in curiosity, and wine stained lips curled.

“Professor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but our meeting?” Your voice was laced with irritation you didn't intend to have, “I have a class after this, so unless you’d like to reschedule?”

Suguru’s lips part, only for Mei Mei to speak first, “I’m sorry about that — that’s my fault — old friends you know?” Her head tilts, as if to say, no, I know you don’t know, “and you are one of Suguru’s little students?”

“I’m his former T.A. and he is my thesis advisor,” and his girlfriend, you want to add — ex girlfriend, rather, but the words are as taboo as your feelings are, “I’m sure Professor Geto wouldn’t mind speaking to you after our meeting if you could wait,”

And again Suguru opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off again, “Oh I wouldn’t mind waiting at all, not for him,” she walks past, “I’ll wait for you in your office, Suguru,” and you have to force your expression to be neutral, a knot in your gut, and a fist clenched and hidden around the handle of your bag, “I’ll make myself comfortable,”

The lecture hall door closes behind her, the click of the door brings silence between the two of you, “I apologize if—“

“No, I should be sorry for interrupting,” you cut him off, your throat tied into knots, a distinct dull ache in your chest that surely shouldn’t belong to you — not after all of this, “I should have just rescheduled—“

“No, I’m glad you interrupted,” he says, “we have an appointment and she really is only a—“

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Professor,” and the title seems to cut this time, slicing through his mask, fraying his calm demeanor and leaving behind a deep frown, “it’s your business, not mine,” not anymore.

His mouth opens and close, before he speaks, “Maybe not as a professor,” he says softly, taking a step forward, “but I think I do as your—“

“I’m not ‘your’ anything—“ you interrupt him, taking a step back, “I’m only a student, and your advisee, nothing else, Professor Geto,” you’re turning to leave, “let’s reschedule after all, I have somewhere to be,”

You had to be somewhere that wasn’t here — here with dredged up emotions that had no right belonging to you. Ones that you thought you had moved past, ones that shouldn’t hurt you the way they do now, and ones that you don’t know how to stop from spilling from your lips.

“You’re not just—“

“Did you hear that she would wait for you?” you don’t turn to look back at him, “I wish you could have done the same,” you give him a second, one second longer than he gave you when he broke up with you, to reply, but he says nothing, “I’ll email you a few times to meet next week, just send me any edits you have on my pages.”

The door clicks behind you as you leave the classroom behind, wondering if you had ever rid yourself of your feelings, or if you had simply buried it—

And now, you are starting to unearth it — and your world may crumble underneath you along with it.

There was something wrong with him.

But there always was — when it came to you.

Suguru stared at the email you had sent later that week, opting to skip the in person meeting again for the third week in a row. The semester was over half over — and now the other department head had started in Kyoto, so he had a little more free time — and yet he couldn’t use it to help you, at least not really.

Your thesis was shaping up — you were on the right track now, and he knew your paper would need little edits before being submitted for peer review. And when it did, a journal would be lucky to publish it. By that standard, he could take a more hands off approach — but he never wanted to be hands off, not with you.

He wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms, fingers trace the curve of your cheek as he’s done countless times before, and press a kiss to those lips that consume his consciousness.

But he couldn’t.

Not when he was the one who had broken your heart, when you had managed to piece it back together, and when you had found happiness with someone else.

Something he wasn’t sure he could ever do.

Mei Mei was an unforeseen complication — a donor that made some generous investments in the university — trivial with the amount of wealth she possessed, mostly due to Satoru’s convincing. And Satoru was the reason she had decided to sit in on his class — and he was stuck entertaining her, while his best friend was away on his sabbatical. And he couldn’t resist an opportunity to fuck with him while he was away — his apparent revenge after Suguru had avoided his texts.

And your reaction was—not what he expected. He pursed his lips, you were jealous right? That’s what you seemed to imply with your words — as if Mei Mei was a friend he would be interested in. The pot calling the kettle black — when you were the one to move on first. A sigh caught in his throat, not that he had any right to complain. Not when it was his fault.

But when the only person he was truly in love with was in front of him — the pain in your gaze as fresh as it was the day he had broken up with you — it was hard to hold back, especially when he wanted nothing more than to—

And then there was a knock at his door, “it’s me,” your voice came through the wood, his eyes sliding to the time, it was late into the evening, “can I come in?”

“Yes, come in,”

“I apologize, I just had a few questions I wasn’t able to ask over email, and since I was on campus, I thought—“

He shakes his head, your rambles still as endearing as they always were — though you had kicked the habit in your papers, you couldn’t help but ramble in the way you spoke, “No need to explain, what can I help you with?”

You lean back, hands folded in your lap, “Do you remember when we discussed the concept of a happiness pump as a criticism of utilitarianism?”

“Yes, in class, we discussed it — the idea of someone who will do anything to make others happy, even if it makes them miserable,” he tilts his head, as he leans back in his chair, eyes betraying him as he watches your dress ride up ever so slightly as you cross your legs — he forces his gaze to your face, “do you plan on using it in your thesis—“

Your eyes could cut stone with its biting glare, “No, I don’t, I wanted to talk about it in context of why you broke up with me — do you plan on being a happiness pump for the rest of your life? Or is that simply for me?”

His mind moves slowly as his words do, “what—“

“Because it’s only for me, it’s flattering — if it’s what you do for everyone, well, it’s just exhausting,” you scoff, twirling a strand of your hair with your finger, “especially when your idea of what will make others happy is so misled,”

“And how’s that?” He says through gritted teeth.

And you’re rising from your chair, “You think my happiness means to make yourself miserable, when it does nothing more than make me unhappy,” you’re rounding the desk, fingertips dragging over the edge of the surface, “do you want to spend the rest of your life miserable? Do you think that girlfriend of yours will make you happy?”

“She’s not—“ and your heels clicking against the wood cuts him off.

And you’re only drawing closer and closer, and he can’t bring himself to speak — words caught in his throat because he knew anything he uttered would break this spell, and he wanted nothing more than to succumb, “pumped full of unhappiness when it could very well be the opposite—“ and your hand is sliding up his chest, toying with the top buttons of his button-up, lips ghosting his ear as you whisper, “when you know I know exactly how to pump you, don’t I?”

“Sweetheart, please, we can’t—“ and your fingers finding the buckle of his belt, a gasp lodged in his throat, as your hand grazes his tenting bulge, twitching against your thumb as it runs over the clothed tip, “fuck—“

“We could be so happy, like before,” your lips brush against his, and he crumbles under your touch — his resistance crumbles like a statue made to wait, and god, he’s waited so long for this — too long.

His lips find yours in a bruising kiss, the way he’s wanted to since he had watched you leave that day — the way he should have, the way he should have grabbed your hand and stopped you, pulled you into his arms, and never let you go.

And he never would again.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Suguru jolts awake at the sound of his phone, a paper stuck to his face, drool sticky at the corner of his mouth. He tugs the paper away, rubbing his eyes, as his heart slowly retracts from his throat.

A dream. He runs his fingers through his hair, leaning back in his chair, what the fuck was he doing? Sleeping at his desk again accompanied by wet dreams of you — he thought he had grown from this. But you always sent him right back where he started, his eyes falling to the bulge in his pants. He ignores it, gathering his things and tracing the edge of his desk as he rounded it to leave his office. He took a look over his shoulder at his office that he spent so much time with, he was sure of one thing — he flicked off the light — you would be the one to haunt him.

For the rest of his days.

“Baby, aren’t you gonna get up now?” Yuta murmurs in your ear, pressing sweet kisses to the skin behind it, fingers resting against the nape of your neck, “you said you have to practice for your thesis presentation,”

You mumbled, burying your face in his neck, as the two of you lie entangled on the couch for your mid afternoon Saturday nap, “a few more minutes,”

The semester had been going by far too quick, days slipping into weeks, and now there was just over a month left in the semester. And soon you’d be graduating — his fingers raked gently through your hair — and he didn’t exactly know what that meant for the two of you.

He still has a year left in his program, and you were going to be moving on — though you weren’t sure exactly where. And he would be here — but what then? Would it be a long distance relationship ? Would you look for opportunities here? Or would it be something else?

He didn’t want to think about other possibilities.

So many of his friends had warned him not to date while in grad school — that it would only end in heartbreak, and the more significant fact that it would always end. Your face nuzzled into his neck, warm breath still warming his skin, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head — and he never wanted to be apart, not from you.

“Baby,” you mumble, “what time is it?” And he can’t help but smile at you, as he reaches for his phone.

“It’s almost four-thirty,” and you groan softly, wrapping your arms around him tighter, “you still have time before you have to go practice don’t you?”

“No, I reserved the classroom until seven, if I don’t go now, I won’t have enough time to practice,” you kiss his neck, “I have to get as much practice in this month before doing my defense,” You untangle your limbs from his and haul yourself to your feet, his body already mourning the absence of your heat. He watches you make your way to the bedroom to change, the door still open as you strip your shirt off.

His gaze admires you as you do, shifting to sitting up, his chin leaning against the back of the couch, “When is your defense again?”

“It’s in three weeks,” you sigh, as you tug a shirt over your head, “I’m so nervous, I have to start practicing now or I’ll drive myself insane,” and you’re stripping off your shorts in exchange for some jeans, “my advisor, many of my professors, students from the department, and maybe some undergrads might attend,” you turn, as you finish changing, catching his admiring gaze with a slight smirk, “and unlike you, they won’t just be interested in staring at me,”

“I think some of them definitely will,” he smiles, and you walk over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips, “at least, I’ll be, if you let me,”

Your lips curl, “Oh yeah? I think I’ll be distracted if you keep giving me this puppy dog look, baby,” you kiss his nose, “might make me walk over in the middle of the defense and kiss you,”

A soft chuckle leaves his throat, “That would cause a scene, but I could also be some moral support — a friendly face,”

“More than friendly, you’re selling yourself short, Yu,” you kiss him again, and he can taste the lingering salt and butter of the popcorn you two had ate earlier during your afternoon movie turned nap time, “but I think having you there would make me more nervous, so is it okay if we just have dinner to celebrate or cheer me up after?”

His brows knit together, “You don’t want me there?” but Geto gets to be there? The unspoken feelings he can’t find in him to voice, the words lodged in his chest, ricocheting off his ribs if only to free themselves from his anxious heart to spill from his lips — but they don’t.

“I do, Yu, of course, but I think having you there will just make me more nervous, I’ll just keep looking at you instead of addressing the whole audience, and…” you bite your lip, “with Professor Geto already having to be there, I think I would spend the whole time worrying about the two of you together than about my defense,”

And his heart sinks — your ex gets to be there, but he doesn’t? At one of your most important moments? He knows logically the only reason you ask because you can’t ask Geto — but it doesn’t hurt any less. Does he always have to be the nice one? The mature one? Couldn’t he argue with you?

No, but he could ask.

“Do you think I’ll make a scene or that he’ll—“ and you’re shaking your head, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“Of course not. I know you would do nothing but support me, but still forcing you two of be in the room together,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “even if you say it’s okay, I know it’s still hard,” his lips part, but you add, “and it would be awkward for me too. And I can’t do anything about Geto, but I can ask you,”

You could always ask him. He would do anything for you — but did his feelings matter as much to you?

“Of course, I understand,” your lips curl, and you’re pulling him into a hug, you rake your fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure?” You murmur, pressing your forehead to his, “you can tell me if you’re not okay with it,”

He could tell you that he’s not — he could tell you that it’s important for him to come, for everyone to see that he was important to you, for him to see that he was important. But it wasn’t about him. This was your defense, shouldn’t you have a right to have who you want there?

Even if it wasn’t him.

“It’s fine baby, I just want to support you,” he kisses your lips, “but I’ll plan something special for after you pass your defense — because I know you will,”

You kiss him again, softer and fuller this time, as your fingers run down his cheek, “You don’t have to plan anything — I just want you, and maybe some food,” and he chuckles, as you place butterfly kisses all over his face, “I love you,”

And he knew you did — you loved him — and that was enough, right?

“I love you too,” and you’re pulling away, as you pull on your shoes and grab your bag.

“I’ll be home by eight, should I grab dinner?” and he leans back on the couch, nodding, “I’ll see you when I get home okay?”

And he was the one you always came home to — the one you wanted to come home to — and that was enough.

“See you soon, baby.”

For now.

You enter the lecture hall, the door closing behind you with a click that rings in the silence.

Of course.

Of course you ended up with the lecture hall you had with Suguru’s class. You round the podium at the bottom, and give a terse chuckle, how had it been so long but so little time? How many days had you watched him lecture here — only to end up falling for him after? Even despite how much you hated him — it was so easy.

And still so hard.

You set up your phone to record yourself, if only so you could fine tune your presentation, and see any spots that you struggle. You prop it up, making sure it’s framed correctly on the desk directly in front of you. You run through your presentation once, noting spots for improvements or thoughts for potential questions people could pose during your defense.

You flipped through a few pages of your notes — wondering how this semester had flown by.

The rest of your thesis was completed over email — brief email exchanges and your thoughts exchanged through notes scrawled on the pages he scanned to you. It was better this way — you didn’t have to see him. You didn’t have to see the smile on his lips that you didn’t put there, a stray lipstick mark on his collar that you didn’t stain, or the happiness in his voice that you didn’t cause.

No, you didn’t need to see that.

But you didn’t know why.

Why did the idea of him moving on irk you when you had already moved on? You weren’t vindictive — your fingers drumming against the podium — you wanted him to be happy, to find someone who made him happy — maybe in all the ways you couldn’t. But the stubborn thought remained — the same one that kept you up crying every night after he broke your heart and haunted you even in your happiest of nights — that he could have had it all with you — but he didn’t. And now here you both were, fake smiles plastered in front of each other whenever your paths crossed, as if those lips hadn’t murmured ‘I love you’ before in the quiet of the night.

But why did it matter? You were happy with Yuta, you had moved on, and yet — when you saw Suguru with her, it felt as if the stitches holding your heart together had come undone, and you were back — right where you started.

But it didn’t matter. Either way the thesis was complete, and now all that was left in front of you was the defense, then you would be done — with this project, with your degree, and with Suguru.

But would you ever be done with him?

There was a knock at the door, and you turn only to find Suguru leaning against the frame, “Sorry to interrupt,”

Apparently you would never be.

Your shock lasts a moment, before your eyes flicker back to your stack of papers, “Do you need something?” The question comes more bitingly than you intended, but you don’t bother to gauge his reaction, focusing on mindlessly rifling through your presentation.

“I forgot my notes for tomorrow’s class,” he says, quiet steps ringing in the silence of the lecture hall, “didn’t mean to interrupt,” and you’re gathering your notes, catching a glimpse before you step back from the podium, “are you practicing for your defense?”

“I am,” your answer is as terse as your emails, eyes fixed anywhere but where Suguru stood, as he pulled his file from one of the shelves inside the podium.

“Do you need any help?” He asks, and you almost want to ask: ‘haven’t you helped me enough?’ But you don’t, only shaking your head in reply. The silence drags on for far too long, “can we talk?”

Your muscles tense, a bow drawn taut for an argument, but you would draw blood first, “What is there to talk about, Professor—“

His calm facade cracks, irritation seeping in like poison through the fractures,“You don’t need to call me that—“

“I do,” you cut him off, “because that’s what you are. My professor. Nothing more,” and it’s a line in the sand you’ve drawn since you’ve met again, one he hasn’t dared to toe, much less cross, until now.

His voice is broken, “We were so much more,” yes, you both were. He was everything to you as you were to him — but that was before. And this was now.

“Operative words are key, Professor — ‘were’ is past tense,”

“But we’re here now, aren’t we? How long are we going to avoid discussing this?”

You scoff, “am I the one who avoided it? Do I have to discuss it now on your terms — when you didn’t even give me a chance to make my own decisions before?” Your fingers curl into fists, “you broke me, you broke me and now you come back wanting to talk as if you didn’t do the breaking to begin with? You don’t get to come back when I’m fixed,” the bottled emotions burst at the seams of its lid, the contents more vile than when they were placed inside, resentment fermented into rage.

“I know,” he says softly, “I’m not trying to come back, not if that’s what you don’t want. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I left you. I thought it was the best for you—“

“Because you know better than I do?” You give a bitter chuckle, “do you know infantilizing it is to have someone make your decisions for you? I know what I wanted, Suguru, and I would have chosen you, every time—“

“That was the problem,” he cuts you off, “I wanted you to choose yourself,”

“Do you not understand that choosing you is choosing myself too? Because it would have been a choice for me, for us, for us to be happy,”

And those words seem to sink in the silence, his eyes averting from yours, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“You’re right,” he finally says, “I’m sorry,” his words are quiet, but heavy — a rock sinking slightly into near still waters, “I wanted you to have everything, but I didn’t take into consideration what that meant to you,” he says, “I suppose I didn’t consider what I owe you,” he adds, and you shake your head, a small smile on your lips.

“Shut up,” a chuckle leaves your lips despite yourself, cooling the white hot anger to warm wistfulness, “I wish it could have worked out,” and he nods, a small frown on his lips.

“Me too,”

“But maybe it was for the best,” and his eyes find yours, as you step back to the podium to place your papers down, “it was never going to work between us. It was already too complicated to begin with, and when we finally got together, there was a time limit,” you find his gaze again, unreadable, “maybe it was for the best we moved on,” he doesn’t reply, “I should get back to work,”

He nods, as he turns to leave, casting a glance back over his shoulder, “Let me know if you need help with anything. Practice or otherwise, has the final formatting of your thesis been approved?”

“It hasn’t yet, but I believe I followed the guidelines correctly, so there shouldn’t be an issue,” you say, and he nods, as the door clicks open, as he turns the handle, “thank you again, for everything,” and there’s far too much that can encompass everything that he did even in that word, but you meant it all the same. Everything he did had led you to this moment, and you would never be ungrateful for the impact he had.

“Of course, I’ll always be there for you, anytime,” his eyes find yours, lips curled in a wanting smile that wishes to say more, “even when I actually do move on.”

And he’s gone in a moment, the door shutting behind him, as your gaze is fixed on the place he just stood — lips parted.

What?

“Professor,” you stop him, fingers reaching for him, even as you promised you wouldn’t — wouldn’t put yourself here again, wouldn’t find yourself falling into his grasp again, but here you were again — you never learned your lesson. But you wondered if that made you a bad student or him a bad professor, “what do you mean?”

He’s turning only for your hand to grasp onto the sleeve of his jacket, your name leaving his lips but you cut him off.

The question wavers on your lips, “Are you not with—“

“No, I’m not. She’s just a friend, like I said,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I know it’s ironic for me to be the one to break up with you, and not have moved on, but, I haven’t,” his fingers brush against your own holding his jacket, before slowly intertwining, “I don’t know if I ever will,”

“Well, some philosophers believe in endurantism — the past is dead, and we live here and now — we can’t do anything about what happened then — we’re whole right now, and not defined by what happened then, or what happens in the future,” your fingers squeeze his, “if we let this go, we could just exist now — the past erased and the future unclear — but we’re no less whole, are we?” your fingers slowly let go of his — but his don’t. He only clings to your fingers still, stubbornly laced.

“Perhaps you aren’t,” and he’s gently tugging you closer, you don’t find yourself resisting, but instead leaning into his touch, “but I always find myself clinging to my past — when you’re contained within it,” he lifts your hand to his lips, “what future do I have without you?” He presses a soft kiss that steals your logic, “and what present is worth being in that I don’t get to spend at your side?”

“Suguru—“ and he sighs, as draws closer to you, breath warming your lips.

“Been so long since I’ve heard you say my name,” his lips ghost your jaw, barely not brushing against it, “my name doesn’t sound the same unless it’s leaving your lips,”

“We shouldn’t,” but even so, the back of his hand lightly drags against your why shouldn’t you? Not when it felt so good, not when it felt this right, and your lips graze his, “Suguru,” you’re murmuring, the faint lingering taste of coffee on his lips, “fuck—“

RING. RING. RING.

Your eyes flutter open to find yourself in bed alone, your hand reaching beside you only to find more of your blanket and more pillows beside you, as it dawns on you.

A dream. Of course. A sigh stuck in your throat — no, you had watched him leave that night without another word, even though you had so many to say, but none at all. And even now, you didn’t know what to say — to Suguru, to yourself, or to Yuta.

So you said nothing. And instead, you’re left with an aching in your chest as you grab your phone to find a text from Yuta—

Had to go in early today— I’ll see you for dinner, baby

You lock your screen and place your phone on the nightstand, before turning back around to bury yourself in bed — as if staying in bed would bury your feelings along with yourself—

Because that’s not whose text you wanted to see.

“You’re home,” Yuta says when he walks through the door to find you lying on the couch and scrolling on your phone.

“No ‘hi you’re home?’” And Yuta snorts, as he strips off his clothes, and walks in to place a kiss on your lips, burying his face in the crook of your neck, drawing a giggle from your lips, “I missed you too,”

“I thought you were going to practice today. Your defense is the day after tomorrow. I didn’t think I’d get to see you out of a classroom until tomorrow evening when it was done,” you run your fingers through his dark locks, “thought I’d have to pry you away from your notecards,”

“Ha, ha,” you kiss his cheek, brushing your nose against it, “I thought it would be good to take a break tomorrow, and I’m just exhausted after all the practice I did tonight,” you sigh, and he’s on the couch beside you, wrapping his arms around your middle, “this seems like a much better use of my time,” you settle into his arms, “how was your day?”

Yuta shrugs, kissing your shoulder, “Better now,” and you chuckle, rumbling against his skin, sending a shiver up his spine as you lean over, his cheeks a pretty flush that only makes your lips curl, “it’s been too long since we got time like this. I don’t even know where to start,” he nuzzled the side of your face.

You turn your head to kiss him fully, lips sliding against his, voice a quiet murmur, “then let’s make our time count,” your sweet kiss grows deeper, your tongue at the seam of his lips that he parts for you. You swallow his moan with a smirk on your lips, your body moving against his slowly, his tenting erection catching on your clit through the far too thin material of your shorts.

“Fuck,” you murmur, as you slowly begin to grind on his bulge, the delicious friction too much for him as well, head lolling back against the couch, “Yu, s’good,”

“Mm,” Yuta parts from your lips, panting as your lips press eager kisses down his neck, a desperation he hadn’t sensed before from you, “baby, slow down,” and you almost don’t seem to hear him, as your fingers find their way between your bodies to touch him through his joggers, “ngh, you don’t need to—“

But you seemingly do, as your thumb flicks against the tip, a soft hiss escapes his lips, “like that, pretty boy?” You’re murmuring in his ear, “gonna make you feel so good, because you’re s’good f’me,”

And you’re slipping his joggers and boxers down to free his cock, stroking him from base to tip, lovely beads of precum dripping down his length and your knuckles.

“Fuck,” he’s covering his face with his hand, his fingers grasping at your hips, before eager fingers slide between your thighs and underneath your underwear, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, “wanna make you feel good too, baby,” as his fingers circle your dripping entrance teasingly, a smirk on his lips, as he sinks one then two fingers in knuckle deep—

“Yu—“ your hand stills for a moment as his fingers work their way against your drenched insides, “fuck—“ and you’re melting into his arms — and maybe this was just what you both needed.

“This was so nice,” you mumble against his chest later, pressing soft kisses against his skin as the two of you laid entangled in the afterglow, “it’s been too long,”

He hums, “It was perfect,” his fingers skim down your cheek, “you know we could have this every day,” and you chuckle, the corner of your lips curled mischievously.

“Do you have the stamina for that?” you tease, painting a heated flush across his cheeks, as he rolls his eyes.

“I mean, we could go to sleep like this every night, and wake up together every morning if we moved in together,” and you blink at him, his nervousness overcoming him as he begins to backpedal, “w-we don’t have to! I just thought I’m ready for the next step with you. And I want to—“

You cut him off with a soft kiss, pausing his worries and anxiety in the syrupy sweetness of your kiss, before you pull away, “I think I need some time to think about it,”

And he nods, “take all the time you need, baby,” pressing a kiss to your forehead, but a thought still niggles into the forefront of his mind that he can’t help but dwell on—

Would you say yes if it was Geto asking?

It always seemed that you were ready when it came to him. Ready to be with him, no matter what the consequence, willing to make it work — but with him, it felt as if he was always the one chasing, and you were reluctantly within his grasp.

As you drew closer into his arms as the two of you settled down to sleep, his fingers running softly through your hair, he wondered how long it would be until he felt as if he wasn’t the one desperately holding onto you, even as you seemingly always slipped away.

Even as he held you against his chest, heartbeat under where your head laid. He knew you were the one who had his heart.

He could only hope you wouldn’t drop it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” it wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was always like this. No matter how well prepared you felt, something always managed to go wrong at the last minute. It was always when you were lulled into a false sense of security, only to have a rude awakening—

And this time it came in the form of an email rejecting your thesis formatting as incorrect. An email that came in that morning, but you had slept through, choosing to sleep in past noon after last night. And when your eyes fluttered open, Yuta was gone already for the day, you rolled over to check your email when you saw it.

Fuck.

You barely had time to text Yuta what had happened before rushing to the library to seek possible help from the librarians — fuck, you would have paid every overdue library charge if necessary. You didn’t want to wait another semester to present again. It would be more time wasted, more time spent working towards something you’re already for, more time spent in this place that you didn’t want to linger in any longer.

How had you managed to fuck it up so bad? Now every one of your citations and in text citations would need to be redone, along with reformatting by 5:00 PM today. And it was already 2:00 PM.

But maybe you were going to have to, as you rushed to pull the library door open, only to find it was closed this weekend due to scheduled maintenance.

Double fuck.

Your eyes burned with tears that you didn’t want to shed right now. You had no time to cry. You had no time to panic. But it was all you wanted to do — just crawl into bed and cry.

You were turning back around to leave, when you nearly ran into—

He steadies you, his fingers brushing your shoulders, as his lips part to greet you, but his brow furrows when he sees your expression, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

And that wasn’t the right question to ask.

Tears slip from your eyes before words can, as Suguru blinks, concern flooding his face, as his hand finds yours and he takes you to his office nearby. It takes a few minutes for you to calm down (several tissues later) and you finally explained to him what happened.

His hand never leaves yours.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to waste another semester here, I can’t do that. I want to graduate—“

“Listen, slow down for a second, ok?” His voice is soft, soothing your anxiety like a balm, even as your nerves flare as your eyes flicker to the time again, “There’s time to fix this and go get it resubmitted before 5:00 PM. But, even if you do have to do another semester, what’s so bad about that?”

You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, “I can’t waste time like that. I already said I was graduating. If I have to stay another semester,” more tears trail down your cheeks, your nails digging into your knees, “how could I face anyone after how hard I worked?”

Suguru whispers your name, his fingers brushing against your cheek, “what’s another semester? Nothing will change. No one will view you any differently. But the more important thing is how you view yourself — and you know how hard you worked. You’ll be fine,”

You’re wiping your tears, sniffling, unable to meet his gaze, “How do you have so much faith in me?”

He gives a brief chuckle, “It’s you — how could I not?” And your eyes finally lift to meet his, as his thumb rubs lightly back and forth across your cheek, before he clears his throat, “we have time to get it resubmitted,”

“‘We?’” and he stands up to grab a copy of your thesis and the error notes you had shown him.

“Well I can’t have you do it, otherwise you’ll end up submitting it late,” and you huff, a watery chuckle leaving your throat, “come on.”

“Suguru?” You call softly, as he turns, blinking at the sound of his name, “thank you.”

“Of course.” and he smiles that damnable smile that made you fall for him — your heart squeezing and thudding against its bony cage, an aching that left you longing — a glance at your phone with Yuta’s notification that sent that longing sinking like a stone into the pit of your stomach.

No. It wasn’t that.

It wasn’t. Not if you let it be.

“I’m sorry,”

It had been quiet for sometime as the two of you made edits — him on the actual physical copy, while you edited the digital. The quiet scrape of his pen against paper and the clack of your keys are the only sound in his office. The very same one that the two of you had built your relationship from, and now here you were again. Except there was no banter, no smiles shared, nor even a knowing glance exchanged.

There was only silence.

Until you spoke first.

It was a silence you weren’t accustomed to — a layer of awkwardness that had settled between the two of you as if to bandage the honesty that had shredded the false student-professor only relationship you had superimposed on top of the two of you.

Only for you to claw your way out — and claw him open as well.

But no bandage can seal a gaping wound for long, and there was only one way to deal with a bandage effectively, by ripping it off.

His eyes draw up slowly from the pages in front of him, glasses perched on the tip of his nose so precariously that you wanted to push them back, “You have nothing to be sorry for — and you know it’s better to thank than apologize — I’m always here to help,”

But that wasn’t what you were apologizing for.

“I meant for the other day,” you say softly, guilt was crawling at your throat.

His gaze grows heavy, “There’s nothing to apologize for that either. You were right,” he adds, “I made decisions for us, when it should have been a discussion — especially when I said it was for you—“

“I wasn’t sorry I said it,” you gently cut him off, fingers knitted together in your lap, “but I’m sorry for where and how I said it. It wasn’t the time or place for that.”

“It’s really ok,” he tells you, a glance at his face telling you that it really was, “I would have yelled at myself far sooner, and nothing you said wasn’t true,” his hand tugs at his tie, loosening it, his fingers wrapped around the fabric, “I wish I did it differently,”

You shouldn’t ask the question but it falls from your lips before you can stop it, “What would you have done differently?”

And he gives a smile worthy of melancholy’s grasp, “I would have kept my promise to you,” and you know which one he means without him needing to say, “I would never have left you, if I hadn’t been too busy being a happiness pump,” and those words stir warm coals in a fire you thought was long put out — but somehow burns still, a flicker of a promise for a spark.

One you couldn’t stoke.

“Well, you make an excellent one,” and he scoffs, “no really, I’ve never seen someone so unhappy trying to make someone else happy before,”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘so unhappy—’” his pout is far too cute for your own good.

“Can really tell your life fell apart without me,” you say completely teasingly, as your lips curl, only to find his eyes on you still, “what?”

He only shakes his head, “only regretting not giving you lower than a 99 on your final paper,” and you gape at him as he bites back a chuckle, “I am the department head, maybe I could—“

“You mess with my grades—“ and your phone goes off — it’s Yuta. A text asking if everything was ok, before his face lights up your phone screen, and you’re not quick enough to avoid the awkward moment where Suguru sees it, “sorry I—“

“Go take it. I have plenty to get through,”

“But—“ but he’s already back to reviewing your citations as if nothing had happened as you pick up the call, screech of your chair as you get up to take the call, “hey, yeah I can talk—“ and the door is closing behind you as you step outside.

You don’t see the way he leans back, scrubbing a hand down his face to rest at his lips, “What am I doing?”

And he really didn’t know — as always, when it came to you.

“You’ll do amazing,” Yuta pressed another kiss to your lips, as you did the final adjustments to your outfit for the defense, “I can’t wait to celebrate with you,”

“I know, I can’t wait for it to be over,” you sigh, pulling him into your arms, your chin perched on his shoulder, “you still haven’t told me what we’re doing,”

He chuckles, his fingers cupping your cheek, “I told you it’s a surprise, so telling you would defeat the purpose,” you turn away to look at yourself again, “you look perfect,”

“You’re just saying that because you’re too nice,” you grumble and he laughs, as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze in the mirror, “I’m sorry about not having you there,”

And he feels a twinge in his chest, he had spent the last few days not trying to think about that. It wasn’t important that he was there — it was important that you’d be coming home to him. That’s what mattered — or that’s what he kept telling himself.

“It’s okay,” he intertwined his fingers with yours, and squeezed your hand, “I’ll be here after, waiting for your good news. Because I know it will be,” and his arms pulled you against him, and he can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t want to let go.

Even if you were ready to go.

You barely remembered what you said.

You remembered how your stomach turned and twisted in knots you didn’t know were physically possible as you made your way to the building where your defense was being held. Your fingers kept twiddling with your phone, checking the location and date listed in your email a million times to ensure you hadn’t missed your defense already or that you didn’t imagine your citations were accepted. You were sure your clothes would wrinkle from the sheer anxiety cladding through your veins, the vibration of nerves enough to beat creases into your freshly pressed clothes.

And you remembered seeing Suguru right when you walked in. He stood behind the table with the other members of the committee, chatting — and objectively, you hated how unfairly pretty he was. His long, inky hair tucked into a neat bun today, choosing to wear a crisp white button down, opting for no tie, but a off white sweater vest and black suit jacket over his shoulders, and lips curled in a small smile that only grows warmer when he catches sight of you from the corner of his eye. And it must be nerves, the way your heart flutters within your chest and the way that heat clings to your cheeks — nothing more.

Your eyes slide to him again — no one else.

You remembered how people filled into the classroom that you were defending your thesis in, as you shuffled around the front, setting up your presentation and notes for talking points. You spotted Maki, Panda, and Inumaki walk in, undoubtedly Yuta’s doing, along with a few of your other friends from the program. Your hands shook ever so slightly, even as you wrung them — a nervous habit you had picked up before large presentations or important milestones.

And then as people took their seats and it was 4:00 PM, it was time for your defense. You took a breath for a second — and your gaze finds not your friends, but Suguru’s. He offers you a smile, a look that tells you that he believes in you — always more than you ever had.

So you begin.

You don’t remember what you said — but you remember speaking as you did a million times before in practice. You remember making an adlib or two that draws a few chuckles from your audience. But what you mostly remember is the few glances you stole from Suguru who listened intently, a mouthed encouragement when you took a pause.

And soon you were answering questions after concluding the main part of your presentation. You are fielding them from professors and students alike, until there was only time left for one more. There was silence for several moments — it felt like hours, the committee conferring and speaking amongst themselves.

“I think I can take one last question,” and your eyes darted over the group, finding no hands, until one slowly went up — one you were familiar with, “Professor Geto?”

Of course he would have a question — no less, the last one.

“I just had one comment about your thesis, not a question,” and with how he had poked and prodded at the fire of your work from the moment you met him — the way he pushed you head first into the flames, if only to temper the best version of your work, and of yourself. And even though you had burned yourself one too many times, you couldn’t help but reach for it again and again, “after conferring with the committee, congratulations, you passed your defense.”

The audience claps and congratulates you, a sea of shaking hands and kind words while you recover from the defense. But as the crowd disperses, you find Suguru walking towards you.

A silence settles over the two of you for a moment — a want to speak lingering between you two, but no words said. Why was it always when you had so much to say you found none of the thoughts you wanted to express? There wasn’t enough time — but they would never be.

But he breaks it first.

“Congratulations on your defense. You did wonderfully,” he says, hands tucked into his pockets, as you bite your lip, cheeks burning.

“No remark about me being on time? Or any little criticisms? I’m shocked. You’ve lost your edge, Professor,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he replies, his hand slipping out from his pocket only to be placed gently on your shoulder, “but right now, I just want you to know I’m proud of your determination and grit, but mostly, I’m proud of you,”

His name almost slips from your lips as your mouth opens and closes, words stuck in your throat, “Thank you. It means so much,” especially from you. But you can’t say that, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,”

“You don’t owe me anything,” and you chuckle, gaze finding his own, just as it always did.

“Don’t I? I think I owe you a drink, I never did buy you one after all — purely for networking purposes,” you add, “and a thank you for saving my ass on these citations,”

And he’s shaking his head, “All I did is what you what have done for anyone else,”

“And you wouldn’t?” And he shrugs.

“For a student? Maybe. For you? Always,” and you bite your lip, gaze falling, “what is it?

“Why?” ‘Why for me?’ was the question you wanted to ask but you couldn’t push the words past your lips even as they rested on your tongue.

But he knew the words.

“You know the reasons,” he says softly, “I know you have nothing but amazing things ahead, and I’d do anything to see you reach your goals,”

And he would. He did.

“I can agree with that,” a hand clasps your shoulder, Yaga gives a small smile, “good job,”

“Professor Yaga, oh my god,” you grin, resisting the urge to hug him, “how are you? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m well enough. Treatment has been honestly shit, but my son is doing a good enough job looking after me,” Yaga rubs the back of his head, “that and balancing classes hasn’t been easy for the kid.”

“Your son goes here?” Professor Yaga points at a familiar cluster of three, “Panda?” You didn’t really see a family resemblance but you supposed you didn’t have to.

He nods, “but I’m not here to talk about him,” he holds his hand out to you, “I’m very proud of you. I know you have a bright future ahead. I apologize I couldn’t help—“

“You did too much. Thank you Professor Yaga,” and then others are calling for you, “if you both will excuse me,”

“Of course, I need to speak to Suguru so it’s just as well,” and your attention is pulled, but the corner of your eye still watches him, watches him leave the leave — leaving you behind here. Just as it should be, your gaze sliding back, as your fingers rested against your chest.

So why did it hurt so much?

Yuta was late — it seems he always was, when it came to you.

Even so, this time it was somewhat purposely, but he still had tried to be on time. He wanted to at least hear the very end of your defense, if not in sight, then outside the classroom. But he had run late, trying to straighten out reservations he made at a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try for months. He had finally convinced them to bring out a cake as if to celebrate your birthday, but for your thesis. It was silly, as Yuta half walked half sprinted to the room of your defense, only to find it was over.

The doors to the lecture hall had been opened after your defense finished, some people filing out, while others lingered to speak to you or others. Yuta held the bouquet of flowers behind him, scanning the group for you — and his eyes fell on you — with Geto.

You were both off to the side, speaking alone, his hand clasped on your shoulder, before slipping off. And it was clear from the way he looked at you — that he felt the same for you as he always did. And you—

You looked the same, as you always did, when it came to Geto.

Yuta’s fingers squeeze at the base of the flowers, plastic crinkling under his grasp. He hadn’t asked why you had stopped meeting with him for your thesis — almost a relief to have your correspondence all over email, and not to face dealing with the weekly meetings. He hadn’t asked, but he could assume some sort of argument happened, a discussion, a confession maybe — something you hadn’t broached with him. And a part of him really didn’t want you to. He didn’t want to have the boat rocked on him — but—

As he watched you become pulled away when another professor joined your conversation, and Geto was pulled away out of the room by that same professor — Yuta saw your eyes follow Geto’s back. The two walk past Yuta without notice, engrossed in their conversation, and Yuta catches a few snippets of it before they’re out the door.

And he turned back to you — he knew he may have to be the one to rock it. Because the ship had already begun taking in water — and it was either he grasped onto the side with white knuckles and went down with it, or he let it go, letting it fall into the wreckage. He glanced away from you, starting to walk off towards the exit — because maybe this ship wasn’t made to sail, but to sink.

And he couldn’t let himself drown — even for you.

You checked your phone again as you left — no phone calls, not even a text back. You bit your lip as you made your way back to the apartment. You had already called him three times, but your anxiety was getting the better of you. He had told you he would meet you after the defense, but there wasn’t any sign of him.

You opened the door to your place, keys jingling as head inside to find him sitting on the couch. You put your things down, as you head to the living room.

“Yu? Are you okay? You weren’t picking up—“ and you see a bag of his things packed, “Yuta?”

“Sorry I made you worry, baby, I just thought,” he sighs, unable to meet your gaze as he looks in front of him, “I thought I could wait, but I can’t,”

“Yuta, what? What’s—“

Your name leaves his lips, cutting you off gently, as he finally looks at you, gaze heavy, “we need to break up.”

You don’t have words.

No, you have one word.

“Why?” You ask, as you take steps forward to sit beside him, as your mind struggles to keep up — your certificate still in your hand, the excitement of being done all but extinguished.

“I’m sorry, but don’t you know why?” He asks softly, and your eyebrows knit together, shaking your head,

“What are you talking about?” And you’re wringing your hands, fingers nearly in knots, a sigh parting your lips as you try to soothe yourself, “Yuta, I know I’ve been busy this semester with my thesis, but it’s done with. And we can go back to—“

“We can’t,” and it was so final — so definitive — and without a way for you to have a choice. Yet again. Were you doomed to repeat this cycle? Again and again. With no change in the outcome. And you don’t know what to say, as you scrub a hand down your face.

“Okay then,” and your name slips from his lips, as you cross your arms.

“You don’t understand—“ and your chuckle is so bitter.

“How can I when you haven’t explained? All you’ve said are cryptic things that I’m supposed to piece together what? What am I supposed to know?” Tears slip down your cheek, forcing your voice to stay steady, the stress of the last few months crashing down around you just as your relationship did, “I know that I haven’t been the best girlfriend. And I’m sorry. I really am,” your voice breaks, “But I tried. I tried to communicate. I tried to spend time with you, even when I didn’t have a minute to myself. You knew I’d be busy. You knew that going in and still—“

His voice is gentle, so gentle that it infuriates you — gentle even when he’s hurting you, “It’s not that—“

“Then what is it?” You snap — you were tired of running in circles — you needed an answer, a tangible reason why.

“Geto,” you blink, as the confession settles over his face, “it wasn’t your schedule. It was who you spent it with,” and you’re staring for a moment, expression crumbling under the weight of the truth.

“Yuta, Yu, no—“ you step towards him, but he only sighs, running a hand through his hair, “it was only for my thesis. Nothing happened between us. I promise,”

“I trust you when you say nothing happened,” but his eyes lift to meet yours, “and in a way nothing has happened, because you still love him,”

“yuta—“

“I know you love me, in some way,” the words leave his lips slowly, cutting you each syllable, but you can’t imagine how deeply and how long he’s been cut by these thoughts already, “but not like you love him—“

“That’s not—“

“You know before we started dating, I talked to Maki about how I feel, and I told her I was afraid that you would never look at me the way you look at him,” and the mended pieces of your heart break apart with new cracks with the way his voice wavers, “but all this time, and still, you haven’t. Even today, when I waited outside of the lecture hall, I saw you both together — and I know,” he breaks off, biting his lip, “I know it was him congratulating you, but the way you looked at him hadn’t changed—“

You’re shaking your head, “Yuta, no, no, it’s just a look. I don’t even know how I look at him, but it doesn’t—“

“I do know how you look. It hasn’t changed,” he’s swallowing, his eyes fall to the floor, “and it’s not just that. Do you see a future with me?”

“Of course—“

“When I brought up moving in, you said you’d think about it, but have you?” you open and close your mouth, fingers grasping at the fabric of your clothes, “have you thought about what happens after you graduate? Or what’s next for us?” your silence is answer enough — sinking in for you, as it already did for him — slipping in between your ribs like a well placed dagger — and it had stabbed him all the same too, “you love me, but I don’t think you’re in love with me,”

“Yuta, I do, I do love you—“ and he draws close to you, fingers cupping your cheek.

“But the world doesn’t stop for you when I come near? It doesn’t feel as if I steal your breath when I hold you like this? Does it feel as if you don’t wish to spend a moment without me?”

“Love doesn’t always have to—“

“But it does — to some extent,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you imagined your future with him didn’t you? Didn’t even want to spend a moment apart?” And he gives a terse chuckle, “we have to break up,”

You don’t want it to be true. You want to fight him, argue, convince him he’s wrong, that the explanation he’s pieced before you is falsified — a distorted version of how you felt conflated by misunderstandings.

But you can’t.

“Yuta, I—“ and he shakes his head, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mean—“ your eyes burn with tears, “I’m sorry,”

He smiles softly, pulling you into his arms, “I knew we had rushed in, but I didn’t want to wait, because I thought I’d lose my chance,”

“Yu—“ he kisses your cheek, “I do love you, I do,” and he nods, lips curling sadly, before he pulls you into another hug.

“I know. I love you too.”

But it wasn’t enough — and it wasn’t right.

Not for either of you.

You don’t know how much time you spent in bed after that. The semester had closed out, and you had curled up under your sheets — seemingly a new tradition you had of ending a semester with a break up. You wondered if graduating would end it — and if it didn’t, you might have to reconsider going for your Ph.D. — if only to avoid this pain again.

You stick your head up out of your blanket, glancing at the light pooling in from the window — because time went on no matter how you felt, and the sun rose each day, despite it all.

Yuta had grabbed his things and left a while after. You still could feel the brush of his fingers against your skin as he squeezed your hand one last time.

“You’re still my best friend,” you had told him, forcing your voice to stay even, and he chuckles, a smile on his lips.

“You’re still mine too.”

But even so you hadn’t heard from him in a few days — but you couldn’t blame him. You could only blame yourself. It had become so exceedingly clear that he was right. And you didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it. The anger still lingered, but anger was only the remnants of your love for him that still stubbornly clung to life, despite your efforts to move on.

But moving on wasn’t as simple as finding feelings for someone else — not when you were only ever truly in love with one person.

You were still in love with Suguru.

Despite it all — you hadn’t gotten over him, and you weren’t sure you ever would. If months weren’t enough, would years be? Would you ever get rid of the feelings you had for him, wrapped around your limbs, and had snuck into the crevices of your heart. An invasive species that perhaps you would never eradicate.

But you couldn’t go back now. Not after everything that happened. Not

Your phone goes off, lighting up on your bedside table before beginning to ring, your fingers slipping from inside your cocoon of blankets. You grab your phone — Professor Yaga?

“Hello?”

He greets you with your name, “I hope you’re doing well — I just wanted to reach out to congratulate you again on your successful defense,” you smile, sitting up as you do. The two of you make small talk as he discusses his recovery, reporting that he’s doing well.

“Thank you so much Professor Yaga, for everything, really,” and he chuckles.

“Thank you for being so understanding of my situation — it was difficult, but I’m glad Suguru stepped for in me so well, and I’m sure he’ll do well in Kyoto—“

“He’s going back?” the question spills from your lips before you can even hold your tongue, “I didn’t know you were—“

“I’m not returning yet, but even if I do, I don’t think I will be returning as a department head. So I gave Suguru the choice to stay department head here or move to Kyoto,” and he adds, “I did give him the choice to stay here or move back to Kyoto,”

And your throat is dry, “Oh I see. That’s good for him,” a silence settles over the call for a moment, before Yaga speaks.

“He hasn’t made a decision yet,” Yaga says, and he’s staying for graduation so if you’d like to thank him in person since I interrupted your conversation, II know on good authority that he’s in his office right now,” and he adds, “it’s not too late if someone were to speak to him now,”

You blink, “Professor Yaga—“

“You’re all but graduated so I’m allowed to say this — I wish you both the best. But I know Suguru has never been happier than when he was with you,” you bite your lip, “so for both of your sakes, you should go talk to him,”

“Thank you, Professor, for everything.” And you hang up without much to do, grabbing your bag and keys before heading out the door.

He was right, fingers squeezing around your phone — it’s what you owed him — and yourself.

Suguru sat back in his office, finally done with his papers for his philosophy class. The sun had long fled the sky, along with most staff and students. The end of the semester had come quick, and with it came a quiet and deserted campus with nothing but his grade book and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in his office to keep him company.

Not that he was craving company.

He loosened his tie, unbuttoning a button or two on his shirt and on his cuffs, and then rolled his sleeves up. He was insane for still insisting on teaching a class amongst the insanity, though he did have another professor step in to co-teach the course. He didn’t know why he had stuck to that sticking point when it was illogical — but, as he gazed down at the stack of final papers strewn in front of him doused in his red ink, he knew it wasn’t a logical reason.

He was rifling through the graded stack, adding the scores to his grade book. This semester has been a mixed bag, a mix of grades — from high to low. Some of the papers were insightful, others were clear that they had only taken this class as a course to blow off. But even of all the high graded essays, not one of the papers compared to yours.

But of course, no one compares to you, and that’s why he needed to leave. He knew that. He wanted you to be happy — even if that didn’t include him. And after this semester, it couldn’t. Being around you was an exercise of torture — Tantalus who had been starving for decades to get a taste of food, only to be hungrier after that morsel. A bite of the apple only makes you want to devour it, core and all.

It was just as Aristotle had said — desire was made of both rational and irrational, and his longing for you is rooted in the rational — because yes, perhaps his body craved you irrationally and carnally, but that was far overshadowed by the need for you after experiencing you for himself. This self made inducement would be the death of him, and Aristotle himself would call him a fool.

But he didn’t need him to — because he was. A fool and a coward, just as you said. He sets down his pen, leaning against his hand, as he looks over at the blank reply email to Yaga with his cursor blinking. It would be for the best if he left for Kyoto again. So you didn’t have to see him again.

And then there was a knock at his office door. He paused, eyes flicking up only to hear your voice through the door, “It’s me,”

He hates the way his breath catches at the sound of you, heart picking up as his eyes flicker to the somewhat late hour and back. No words on his lips except the one thing he can say.

“Come in,”

And you do — you always liked to tease him that he was the one who was unfair when it came to how he looked, but to him, it was you that was unfair. Your hair askew, chest rising and falling quick, clothes a little disheveled and yet, you were always the most gorgeous person he’d met in his life.

You shift in the entryway of the door, squirming seemingly under his gaze, “Is this a bad time?”

Time never was in either of your favor, not ones that she found beguiling, except in a way meant to deceive. But time and time again, he allowed himself to be tricked — if only for a moment with you.

“No, not at all. I just wrapped up grading the final papers,” and you give a soft chuckle, as you close the door behind you, before taking careful steps forward, eyes finding the stack nearly bleeding from his careful cuts and slashes.

“How many red pens did you use up? Fifty?”

“Oh, only forty-nine this time, trying to be more conservative with my usage,” and you scoff, more of a chuckle than a sneer, “plus, I didn’t have a student write several pages over the limit this time—“

You gape at him, and he has to bite back his smile, “It was one page, and you said I could,”

“Bullied into it was more like it,”

“Don’t know of a case where a student could bully a professor into anything,”

“They clearly haven’t had you in their classroom,” and then he adds, a soft smile on his lips, “but I suppose I could see them enjoy being bullied by a student as passionate about the subject — even if my office hours suffered for it,”

“You loved those office hours,” and he wants to say, yes, when you were there — but he can’t. He told himself he wouldn’t cross that line, “and I did too,” you add, and his eyes find yours — but maybe you would cross it instead, “you remember what you said about not being my professor anymore?”

And he did — all those months ago at the end of the first semester you had spent in class together, and he’s nodding, mouth impossibly dry, “Well I’m as good as graduated, so you’re definitely not my professor, not anymore,”

Your name slips from his lips, brow furrowed, a question almost, as if it can’t be what your words implied, but you’re shaking your head, as you pull a folded paper from your bag, unfolding it before sliding it across his desk.

His eyes fall on it, and it’s the note he had written all those months ago — asking you for a drink, and for so much more. He had admired your determination, your wit, your beauty, your intellect, and so many other things he didn’t have space to say —

“Suguru,” and his eyes find yours, and god, why was it so easy to get lost in your heady gaze? “We had said we didn’t want to hurt each other — but I don’t think that’s something that can be avoided. You hurt me,” and he nods, lips parting ready for an apology, “but I’ll probably hurt you — and I probably have already,”

“Sweetheart—“ the pet name falls from his mouth as if it’s second nature, “I—“

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” and the corner of his eyes burn with tears — is this a dream? Because he swears, it would be the cruelest one so far, “I can’t stop loving you, and I’ve tried to—I’ve tried to move on,”

“Maybe it would be for the best,” but you’re shaking your head, as you’re slowly rounding his desk, and the truth can’t help but fall from his lips, “I don’t deserve you—“

“What did I say about making decisions about us without me?” And he sighs, resistance crumbling as you draw far too close — and he couldn’t bear not to reach out, “you have to take responsibility for your actions, don’t you?”

“Sweetheart—“

“You said you haven’t moved on — is that still true?”

His fingers reach across the chasm he had carved between the two of you, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw and the swell of your cheek, just he had wanted to for all these months. And just a taste, a brush of your skin, he’d never let you go again.

“I never could — not from you,” his voice wavers, “every day I missed you — I never wanted to break up with you, I just couldn’t bear to be the reason that you ever hold yourself back from getting something you wanted,” and he gives a bitter chuckle, shaking his head, “who knew I was the one doing that by leaving? And I’m so sorry, I am so—”

And your forehead pressed against his, his words nearly swallowed with a sob, as he squeezes his eyes shut, tears burning a trail down his cheeks, that you gently thumb away before cupping his cheeks, “I want to hear something other than an apology,”

His flutter open, lips brushing against your cheek, “I love you, I always have, sweetheart. I never stopped—” his voice breaks, a crack in the dam enough to spill the truth from his lips and tears from his eyes, “and I promise I’ll never break my promises anymore — that’s a contradiction, but—“ and your fingers find purchase on his cheek, consuming the words on his lips with your touch, “I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,”

Your lips curl, eyes watery as you kiss away one of his tears, “Is that a proposal?” you tease, your other hand slides back through his black locks, twisting one strand around your finger, “seems a little fast for that when you haven’t even kissed me properly yet,”

He snorts softly, clearing his throat ever so slightly, “If memory serves me, we’ve done a lot more than kiss before,” and he’s daring closer, as you lean down, your legs pressed against the lip of his desk, “nearly in this office,” and he’s slipping up from his desk, his breath stolen from his lungs by the whisper of your perfumed skin, and his logic eroded by the heat of your body against his.

“‘Nearly,’” you repeat with a soft hum, as your lips graze his jaw, “then why don’t we fix that?” your lips find his, a chaste kiss, barely a few seconds when you pull away half a centimeter, and he’s already leaning back in for another and another.

The familiar feel of your lips against yours makes him wonder how he had survived without you for so long — falling for you was as natural as breathing and kissing you was needed as oxygen. But each kiss only sends jolt over jolt up and down his body, and he wonders if he were to ever stop again, perhaps his heart would too.

Because all the time he had spent not with you was time spent living — perhaps breathing and existing. But no, he only felt alive when he was at your side — and in your arms. And especially against your lips. Delights in the way your lips part for him like muscle memory, tongue against yours — in a sloppy, desperate kiss that has every ounce of reason sucked from his mind (and likely into your mouth).

He parts if only for air, a string of spit connecting your lips, that he thumbs away, “If I recall, you had something about me not being very ethical last time we did this,” he remarks, his lips parting before kissing down your jaw, your taste an addiction to his deprived lips — a desert wanderer ready to swallow you whole, “and now here you are,” he’s leaning back, as your hand is splayed back against the wood of his desk, your chest rising and falling, lips kiss bitten red and swollen from his own, “what do you call this?” His finger is toying with the top button of your blouse.

“A student taking after her teacher,” your lips find his pulse, teeth grazing his skin as if to taunt him, to goad him to go further, but, and his fingers slip behind. your thighs and squeeze no goading was needed — he was ready to devour you.

And he’s lifting you onto his desk, papers crumpling underneath and pens flung onto the floor, and a gasp caught in your throat as he pins you against it, before tugging his tie off.

“Looks like I still have plenty to teach you.”

“Sugu, fuck,” your fingers thread through his black locks, undone from his bun hy your own hands, your nails digging into his scalp. How long have you been in this office with him now? Half an hour? Almost an hour? Time had lost all meaning to you when he had kissed his way down your body.

Burning kisses that had stolen your thoughts from your mind and left only him in its wake — how had you lived without him? Your fingers had found their way to the back of his neck, as his lips mapped the peaks and valleys of your neck and collarbone.

“Fuck,” a gasp parts your lips when his teeth teases the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting again and agin, until he’s left pretty love bites gracing your across your skin.

And that sharp tongue of his dragged over the marks left blooming on your skin, as if couldn’t simply get enough of you, and he couldn’t.

“Suguru, please—“ you’re whining already and he barely began, and the all too smug smile against the swell of your breast only told you he thought the same.

“Patience, Princess, so needy f’me, aren’t you?” But he obliged anyway, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

And now your blouse was nearly shrugged off, your bra undone with your pert nipples still sticky with his saliva and breasts covered in small marks from his teeth grazing your skin. And now he had tugged your skirt down and off, leaving you only in your underwear.

“You’re making such a mess on my desk, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, as his large palms slide up your plush thighs and squeeze, drawing a lovely gasp from your lips, before he’s parting your thighs, “but it’s such a pretty mess when it’s you,” and you were so fucking pretty with your legs parted like this, panties translucent from your juices leaking from your dripping folds, even glossy against the wood of his desk now. And he would be sure to make a bigger mess soon enough.

“Sugu,” your cheeks burn as he stares, your embarrassment melting into a gasp when his fingers drag against your clothed slit teasingly, up and down, so meticulously again and again, until his fingers are sticky with your pre, “ngh, please—“

Your plea is enough for him to snap, as he’s tugging your underwear away and off, tucking the ruined panties into his pocket with a glint of his amethyst eyes in the low light of his office. Pretty folds in full display for him, with your swollen clit and glistening slit nearly begging for attention, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

And he’s running a finger down your lovely folds, gathering precum on his finger, far too slowly for your liking, as he takes his time to circle your clit, “All this just from a few kisses?” lust pools in his gaze with a flicker of amusement, “so sensitive just for me,” your need for him as plain as the juices that seep from your pussy, walls fluttering and aching for something more than the tip of his finger.

“Suguru, fuck, I can’t,” your toes curl when he finally pities you with a kiss to your needy cunt, nose bumping against your clit teasingly, the friction making your thighs tremble, “please—”

“Never thought I’d hear my quick witted T.A. beg for me like this, but I have dreamt of it,” you glance down at him, lips glossy with your pre, “I have to make up for time lost, time I wasted without you, princess,” and his thumb rubs at your clit, while his lips press sweet kisses to the flesh of your inner thigh, “it’s what I owe you, isn’t it?”

“I—” your sentence lost to a moan as he drags the flat of his tongue up your slit, tip of his tongue teasingly lingering around your entrance, and your hips buck into his touch, warm palms coming down to pin you in place against his desk.

You can barely stifle your moans, fingers flying up to press a hand over your mouth, as the tongue starts to flick and circle your clit, while a lithe finger teases your tight cunt, “I’m not one for sweets, but you may give me a sweet tooth,” and his lips close around your clit, sucking and licking, making your back arch, your arm behind you shaking as it struggled to keep your balance.

“Fuuuuck, Sugu, I—” you’re panting, head lolling back when he finally sinks a finger into your fluttering walls, the wet squelch of your cunt and your barely contained moans filling up the relative silence of his office, “please—” and a second finger joins the first, a smirk on his lips as he kisses your puffy clit again, a groan when he feels the way your walls clench around his fingers, knuckle deep.

“Gonna break my fingers at this rate, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, but even so he’s adding a third finger, the stretch far too delicious as it sends stripes of heat up and down your body and right to your spasming cunt, “what are you going to do when I put my cock inside? Our refresher lesson has barely begun,” and he’s enjoying this too much, and when his arms are hooking around your thighs, carefully lying you back on his desk, your hands slipping from his hair, and instead propping himself up on his elbows.

“Sugu, wh—” and your back arches as he begins to thrust deeper into your cunt, a strangled gasp on your lips that melts into a moan as his lips close around your clit. You can barely make out the obscene noises that leave your lips, as his fingers fuck you open, before he’s sucking hard — once, twice, and then a third time— “I’m—“

You can barely find the words before you’re cumming, walls squeezing and fluttering around his fingers while he fucks you through it, lapping at your juices, his name on your lips again and again, until you finally come down from your high. He pulls his fingers away from your twitching pussy, only to bury his face in between your thighs again.

“Fuuuck, Sugu—“ your moans are broken as your body arches into him, fingers finding purchase on his shoulders, sucking and licking your release eagerly, seemingly hellbent on tasting every inch of you.

Pretty moans fell from your mouth, muffled as you clasped your hand over your lips, “can’t waste a drop, sweetheart,” he’s slurping and sucking at your cunt, and god, if anyone walked by his office, they would surely hear you both — hear the nasty squelch of your pussy and your barely muffled moans.

How many times did you orgasm from his tongue alone? You had lost track. Each time he would bring you over the edge with the thrust of his tongue or the suck of his lips, and he would eat you out through it, only building to the next and then the next.

“Sugu, please, I’m close, fuck—“ and you can’t even hear your own broken voice, not over the lewd sounds of his mouth sucking at your pussy, the coil tight in your stomach and ready to snap, until another hard suck makes you cum, hard.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, clutching at him desperately as you squirt all over his face, drenching him along with his desk, wood sticky and soaked with your release. He’s lapping at your cunt, thighs twitching from your orgasm, until he’s finally pulling away to glance up at you with dark eyes, his chin and mouth glossy with your cum and his spit. His tongue darts out to clean both, before wiping the rest away with the back of his hand, glazed over gaze half lidded with need.

“S’good for me, Princess,” he’s pressing gentle kisses up your body, “so pliant, and yet you were so mouthy before,” and his lips kiss that mouth of yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, as he presses you further into the desk, his arm slinked around your back. And you’re pulling him just as close, hands grasping at the front of his button-up.

And then you’re pushing him back, forcing him into his chair, as you get to your feet, before sinking to your knees. His breath catches, eyes watching you — your disheveled appearance, hair half mussed, and skin shiny with sweat, “let me show you how mouthy I can be.”

“Imagine someone walked in now, see your pants down for your favorite student,” your tongue trailed up the underside of his clothed cock — and he could nearly cum looking down at you between his thighs, your kiss bitten lips pressing a sweet kiss to the head of his dick, thumbing at the leaking slit, licking your lips at the sight of the large stain of his precum on his cock, “Sugu, you’re so fucking big, can’t wait to feel this inside,” and his length twitches, a grunt in the back of his throat, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the waistband against his sensitive skin.

And god, he’s fucking pretty like this. Black locks falling in front of his perfectly sculpted cheekbones with a lovely flush settled over his features

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he’s panting, head nearly lolling back against the headrest of his chair, “gonna tease me after this long?” it’s half joking, half pleading, but you’re only clicking your tongue at him.

“You made me wait much longer, Suguru — made me cry too,” and his gaze softens, lips parted with an apology that fades into a hiss, as you free him from his boxers, erection slapping against his still clothed abs, “but now I’m going to make you cry,” you press a teasing kiss to his weeping tip, flushed red with need, letting his white pearly release paint your lips, “until you’re begging to cum,”

A strangled gasp caught in his throat, tracing the pretty veins and curves like it was made for you, “You’re so pretty, Sugu — all of this is for me?” Your fingers slowly stroking his length, his moaning music to your ears, as your other hand teasing his balls, “gonna cum down my throat already? Can’t cum this soon,” you cooed, his fingers digging into the armrests of his chair, and yet your fingers squeeze around his base, hips jerking into your touch.

“Princess, stop teasing—“ his protests had fallen on deaf ears, as you bring your pretty lips to his aching tip, only to trace his slit with the tip of his tongue, salty precum disappearing inside your mouth, and fuck, it’s enough for him to nearly cum there and then, “please,”

“Didn’t know you could be so polite, Sugu, when begging for your student to swallow your cock,” and finally you let his cock part past your lips, and his head falls back, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue swirls around his length. It was already too much for him — so much, just as you were, your tongue tracing and teasing his dick, while your lips sucked along the base.

And you weren’t doing much better, the weight of his cock against your tongue makes your cunt ache for him, and sneaking glances at his fucked out form — muffled moans of your name as he covers his lips with the back of his arm, as his dark gaze watches you sink his cock into your mouth again. Your hand is slipping into your throbbing pussy for some relief, as you bob up and down his length.

But he doesn’t miss it, a groan at the sight of you swallowing his dick whole whole riding your own hand, “Does fucking your mouth feel that good, Princess? Feel that good that you need to touch yourself?” And you’re moaning around his length, vibrations of sending shivers up his spine and a groan of your name from his lips, “So fucking good f’me, Princess — too good for me,” he’s grunting, as you let his tip brush the back of your throat now, making pleasure rip up his body, “sweetheart, please, g’nna fuck your throat if you keep that up,”

And you ease off, letting his cock slap against your tongue as it slips out, “maybe I want you, Sugu,” you’re kissing and licking along his length, “want you to fuck my smart little mouth,”

Fuck.

You’re sliding his cock back in, his hips jerking against you as you let him sink all the way in, tip brushing against your throat again. And fuck, the wet squelch of your fingers inside you breaks him, as he starts to give an experimental thrust, a light one that has you moaning around him. He’s gauging your reaction, only for you to force his length down more, barely not blowing his load there and then, as you look up at him, a smile in your eyes as if you’re daring him.

And he can’t hold back.

He’s fucking your mouth, your tongue massaging up and down his length as he thrusts inside your warm mouth, his nails digging into your locks as he holds you flush to his body. The sight of you on your knees, taking his dick as drool and pre drip down your chin, eyes nearly rolling back with pleasure as you do, making his cock twitch in your mouth.

“That feel that good, Princess? Wanted me to fuck this mouth that bad? I should do it more often if that’s what it takes.” he’s almost drunk off the pleasure, thrusts growing a little rougher as he grows close, “fuck, I’m close, baby, where—“ and your hands are sliding around to his lower back, holding him in place as your answer, “shit, sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me,” and you suck around him as his tip hits the back of your throat again, and that’s it—

He spills, hot cum flooding your mouth and down your throat, as you both moan in unison, large spurts devolving into smaller ones, as he comes down from his high. You don’t waste a drop, swallowing every bit of it, as you finally pull away from his cock with a pop, the sight of your ruined lips with strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his dick is enough to have it twitching again.

“Sweetheart, you’re s’good to me,” he’s gently pulling you up into his lap, his fingers running through your hair. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t—“ and you’re cutting him off with a soft kiss that steals the words from his mind, your eyes shiny with tears.

“You do, you do because I choose you, because I love you, and I know you’re sorry,” you cup his cheek, before lightly pinching it, “and if you ever do anything that stupid again, I’m going to kill you and I’ll be ethically and morally justified,” and he chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck to press soft kisses to your skin, before pulling back to look up at you.

“You have my permission to do that, because if I ever leave my soulmate again — it’s only the consequences of my actions,” and he kisses your forehead, before he presses his to yours, “and I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not by my side,”

You kiss him slowly, wrapping your arms around him, slowly heat building as the head of his cock bumps against the length of your cunt — the sparks grow into flames, threatening to engulf you both. And you would let them if only for one more second of his touch.

“Sugu, please, I need you,” you murmur, breathing in his pants as your noses bump, “need you inside me,” he cups your cheek, meeting in another kiss, before you’re lining yourself up, weeping cock bumping against your needy entrance.

“Are you ready?” You ask, and it’s for more than just this moment, it’s for everything that comes after — for every second that you both get to live together, “our phones are off right?”

He snorts, “I turned it off when you entered my office,” and you laugh, shaking his head, as he places a kiss behind your ear.

“I did the same before I came in,” his fingers cup your cheek, as you lean into his warm palm, “just you and me?” You echo from your first time together, and his lips curl into the softest smile.

“You and me, sweetheart,” and you’re sinking onto him, tip parting your spread folds as your walls swallow him whole, inch by inch, and his fingers grasp at your hips, helping you ease onto his cock, pretty lips parted with a quiet murmur of your name.

And when he finally bottoms out inside you, he’s almost forgotten how good it felt — pleasure ripping up his spine as your hips are pressed flush to the other, “So deep, Sugu, fuck,” your walls are fluttering around him pulling even deeper, clamping down as if he groans, “I’m gonna move,” you manage between pants.

You lift up to the tip before slowly beginning to bounce up and down, your moans filling his ears along with the squeaks and rattling of his computer chair. His eyes flutter open only to watch your breasts bounce up and down as you ride him, his hands reaching out to squeeze at the pillowy flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“S’big, fuck, Sugu,” you’re moaning, a mess as you fucked yourself on him, but still not quite deep enough, and he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, making you fall forward holding onto him with a whine as he fucks up into you. The sounds of his balls slapping against your needy cunt ring in your ears, the grunts your pussy pulls from his mouth as he drives himself impossibly deep, “ngh, Sugu, fuck, s’good—,” you’re whining, back arching into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders, “please,”

“That’s it, take my cock, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “so good for me. So tight, never going to leave this cunt at this rate, baby—“

And then they hear a door creak open and close nearby, freezing as they do, heart thumping against your ribs, but your wall flutters all the same, “think they’ll see us like this?” He teases, and his cock twitches in your cunt, “spread out and fucked by your former professor’s cock?” And you know he’s only goading you as the footsteps depart, but your walls squeeze at the thought, “want them to see how good you are for me? How well I’ve taught you to take this cock?”

And he begins to fuck into you again, pistoning up into you, drawing more moans from your lips. He had taught you every inch and curve and vein of his dick, but this refresher would make sure you’d never forget.

“Sugu, I’m close, I-“ and his hand is slipping between your bodies to rub at his clit right as his cock hits that spot that has you seeing stars as you cum hard around his cock. He watches the place your bodies meet, a white ring of cum around the base of his cock as your walls flutter around him.

He fucks you through your orgasm, hips stuttering as he twitches inside you, “fuck, sweetheart, where should I—“ and you’re moaning as you manage to meet his thrust to notch him even deeper as he finally cums.

His thick ropes paints your walls, as he rocks against you slowly, forcing his cum deeper and deeper, your name leaving your lips again and again — reverent whispers and promises muttered in your ear, as he finally stills underneath you.

You’re leaning against him, mixed releases surely leaking onto his lap and the chair, both of your quiet pants filling the silence, until he’s breaking it. He kisses your lips again and again, before he stares at you — kiss bruised lips and the pretty sheen of sweat that clings to your skin, “It’s not fair you’re this perfect,” he murmurs, a thumb dragging down your lips, “how would I have ever resisted you?”

“Luckily, the universe did that for us,” and he huffs a chuckle, “and you,” you add in a small whisper, and he frowns, nodding.

“I did and I never will again, I promise, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your burning skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, “I’m yours — yours to keep, yours to use, yours to love — you have my heart and my soul,” he’s cupping your cheek when you lift your head, “and I’ll never let go, because you’re the only answer to life I need, if you’ll allow to be yours,”

“You were always mine,” your forehead pressed to his, “that’s never changed, and it never will,”

“You always one up me, don’t you?” And you roll your eyes.

“The student has to surpass the master someday, doesn’t she?” his lips curl.

“Oh you’ve done that a long time ago, Princess,” his lips graze yours again and again, and soon enough you’re shifting on his lap, until the chair buckles under the weight and the seat travels to the bottom of where it’s wheels rested. The two of you are silent a moment, before a giggle escapes your lips, “I think you’ll have to get a new chair,” you murmur, and he’s chuckling, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Why not the chair and the desk?” And you’re blinking before he’s lifting you up, before making you turn, pressing your front flush against the wood of the desk, “and if I’m getting new furniture, I might as well use this to its full capacity, shouldn’t I?” And he’s dragging his erection across your ass, “really make sure it’s broken,”

You gasp, walls fluttering as his tip teased your messy entrance, “don’t you need broken in—“ and he bottoms out in one thrust, as he presses his body against yours, lips pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, before his teeth dig into the sensitive flesh.

And he smirks as he hears you moan under him, as he soothes the blooming hickey with his tongue, “No, I meant broken, sweetheart.”

“Suguru!” You called from his bedroom, as he smoothed his hair out in the bathroom mirror, a glance over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, “can you come help me?”

And how could he refuse? He steps out of the bathroom to only find you struggling with your Hakama. The formal garment hangs uselessly around your front, your brow furrowed and lips pursed.

He suppresses his laugh, forcing his tone to be even.

“Does my incredibly brilliant girlfriend need help with her hood?” Your pout is enough for him to nearly break his promise that he wouldn’t kiss you when your makeup was done, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the offending garment from around your neck, and you cross your arms.

“I can handle reading Hegel’s works — The Phenomenology of Spirit was irritating but doable,” and you scowl at the Hakama in his hand, “but that thing was made to torture,”

He snorts, “Consider it your last trial before graduation,”

“No, my last is seeing if my thesis was peer reviewed and accepted for publication somewhere,” you sigh, “I still have to make the edits—“

“That can be a later problem, just focus on the moment right now,” he steps behind you after adjusting the Hakama and tying it around the back and front to secure it, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “and now you look both beautiful and properly dressed,”

His arms wrap around your waist from behind, “Sugu, we have to leave soon,”

“Just a minute, just let this sink in,” he kisses the side of your neck, “have I told you how proud I am of you?”

“Hmm, just about every second of the last few days,” you lean against him, and nothing ever felt so perfect — his arms were the only ones you belonged in.

And yet, why did that thought also hurt?

“What is iy, baby?” Suguru murmurs, ever too perceptive as always, “something on your mind,”

“More like someone,” you mumble, and you’re laying your head against his shoulder, “I can’t help but feel guilty — Yuta and I just broke up and I’m—“ you’re shaking your head, “I’m so happy, and I hate myself for it,”

Suguru frowns, “I don’t know Yuta well, but I know he did love you, the same way I do, and I can’t speak for him,” but then he’s squeezing your middle, “but as someone who loves you, I’d want you to be with someone who could make could make you happy,” you kiss his head, “and isn’t that why he broke up with you? You both deserve that chance — even if it’s not each other.”

“When did you get so smart?” and he pulls you impossibly closer, kissing along the neckline of your kimono.

“Somewhere between my bachelor’s degree and being your professor,” he adds with his lips curled in a smirk, “though I’d err closer to the time of being your professor,”

Your head against his shoulder, you lean up for a kiss, as he blinks, before melting into your touch, as you pull back with a grin, “it’s ok if I initiate the kiss,” you chuckle when you catch sight of his pout, “don’t worry I’ll be giving you plenty after the ceremony — and maybe something even more than a kiss,”

“Is that a promise?” And you tug him close, pressing another kiss to his lips — your lips were already smudged, so why hold back.

“Always, for you.”

Yuta knew it was for the best.

It had been a few weeks that he spent mourning his relationship — but he knew that it was the right choice for him. He had chased after you, it felt as if he was dogging your every step, waiting for you to notice him. And when you did, he still felt as he was your second choice — and that he would live in Geto’s shadow for the entirety of the relationship.

And he didn’t want that. He didn’t deserve that — and neither did you. More than anything, he wanted you to be happy — even if that wasn’t with him.

It was for the best.

And the start to the new semester just proved that. He was starting his final year of his program, he had become the head of the student government (after Maki decided to step down to a more administrative role to focus on her degree), and he had even become a teacher’s assistant to one of his favorite professors. He didn’t have time to focus on a relationship, not when he should be focusing on his future.

He entered the classroom that day, a little early on his professor’s request to set up the classroom with handouts, only to bump into someone, papers spilling from his hands.

“Sorry, I—” he leans down to pick up the dropped papers, before glancing up and finds himself looking at just that—

His future.

A few months later.

“You’re late,” Suguru Geto remarks, as he shows you his watch on his wrist — the very one you had bought him for his birthday a few weeks before, “but I should expect that by now, shouldn’t I?”

You give a guilty grin, as you find your way to his side, sliding your hands up around his neck, “Yes you should, especially when your girlfriend is a very important lecturer who was kept by all her students — jealous?”

And he chuckles, his hair tied up in a half bun as usual, your fingers toying with a strand again, before he’s lacing with fingers with yours to press a kiss to the back of your hand, “Very — because your students are stealing my time with my very intellectual girlfriend,” and he leans down to press a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “it sounds like it was a success — I knew it would be,” he adds, “but someone else wasn’t so sure,”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes, yes, you were right — the students found my work interesting, or at least interesting enough not to fall asleep and ask questions—”

“High praise,” and your lips curl into a smile, “What?”

“I love you,” he grins back at you, a chuckle on his lips, as he leans down to capture them, his smile apparent against you, as he parts from you, a heat still present in the pit of your stomach, a need for him burning as it always was, “I love you so much, Suguru,”

“I love you too, princess,” he’s rubbing his thumb back and forth against the length of your cheek, “Good thing too because otherwise, moving in together would be more than a little awkward,” and you pout, and he’s laughing before kissing you again and again, until he’s kissing your pout away with a languid kiss that has you melting into his grasp — breathless when he pulls away, lips utterly kiss ruined and red, “they should be calling us into the viewing soon,” he bites his lip,and you’re nodding reluctantly if only considering whether if you could sway him for another few moments alone. Instead you settle for burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips brushing against his leaping pulse, “you’re sure about moving to Kyoto? I had only chosen Kyoto to give you space—”

You cut him off with a glance up and a raised eyebrow, “You’re the one who said I could choose, and I chose Kyoto because not only is it a good opportunity for you here to build your reputation as the department head, but because it’s a fresh start for us,”

His fingers lace with yours, “Well if they keep asking you to lecture in Tokyo, you might develop a commute,” and you roll your eyes, before shrugging.

“I can handle it,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as I'm coming home to you.”

“And a cat or a poodle,”and you light up, grinning even wider, “we should ask if they allow pets,”

“Really? We can—”

“I heard poodles are a good choice of pet,” and you’re leaning up to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck, “I made an appointment for at an adoption center after this,”

“Mr. Geto?” a person comes out of the leasing office, “we’re ready for you both,”

And you pull away, your fingers interlacing with yours and squeezing his hand, “Are you ready?”

His lips curl in a smile, “I think we owe it to ourselves, don’t we? Especially they agreed to take us for our viewing after you were late,”

And you chuckle, as the two of you made your way inside, “I swear you’re going to leave without me one of these days if I’m late enough,”

“No, I’d never do that. I’ll always wait for you, sweetheart,” he holds the door open for you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “we have all the time in the world after all.” And you grin at him as you walk past him, his fingers reaching into his pocket.

He had found out his answer to life — watching you greet and speak with the agent, before glancing back at him with a small smile and tilt of your head — his fingers toy with the ring box in his pocket—

And now he just needed to know yours.

END.

Yuta’s own love story will be coming after Professor Gojo’s!

✧a/n: wow i'm still in disbelief i finished this series. this is my first series on tumblr, and i truly hope you all enjoyed. this part was wayyyy longer than i expected. but i hope i did the series justice.

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @lalacute03

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fanfiction #suguru geto fanfiction #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru x reader

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ahundredtimesover · 9 months

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I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 261.3k

Status: Complete

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko

A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!

And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕

Season 1 -> Playlist 🎶: on the way home

Episode 1 (wc: 12k)

Episode 2 (wc: 11.9k)

Episode 3 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 4 (wc: 11.4k)

Episode 5 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 6 (wc: 14.6k)

Episode 7 (wc: 15.4k)

Episode 8 (wc: 17.4k)

Episode 9 (wc: 18.4k)

Episode 10 (wc: 20.6k)

Episode 11 (wc: 23.5k)

Episode 12 (wc: 24.7k)

Episode 13 (wc: 29k)

Episode 14 - End (wc: 32.8k)

Season 2 (??)

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #boss au #workmates au #jungkook #bts jungkook

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spencereid-reads · 29 days

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juno | s. reid

word count: 2.2k words // warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of sextoys, condoms, improper use of fbi handcuffs. this one gets suggestive and was supposed to have smut but i'm too scared to write it. there's some breeding fantasies in there i think. probably continuation issues, i started this last week when i first listened to sabrina's new album and wrote chunks of it on different days. not proofread!

kindashy!spencer x shy!reader

to put it quite simply, you felt like you'd hit the jackpot.

for once in your life, things seemed to be going in your favor. this was the closest to perfection, you were sure of it.

you'd recently moved into a great apartment, with a perfect view of the district from the balcony. your apartment had a balcony, not just an old fire escape you'd used as one on your previous buildings. you'd been offered a promotion at work, which you obviously accepted and enjoyed your days at work more and more with each passing day.

the best part though, you'd been on a few dates with a guy who was just perfect.

the foolish part of you, fueled by all the romance novels and rom-coms you liked to watch on sundays, was already picturing a whole life with him, and with someone like spencer reid, it was hard not to.

he was something straight out of a fantasy, tall, slightly awkward but sure of what he wants, attentive and never once making you feel insecure. and he was so, so gorgeous, with big brown eyes that made you swoon, curly hair that begged you to run your fingers through the soft strands.

not only was he absolutely gorgeous, but his personality was what really sealed the deal for you.

date after date he set the bar higher for himself, five dates were enough to accept being exclusive, wanting to try something serious.

after five dates where you talked about everything, where he listened and asked about your interests, your dislikes, your thoughts on movies, where he confided in you about his life and past experiences, the downside to being a child prodigy, five dates were enough to know that no matter how this ended, you’d never have anyone like spencer reid in your life again.

“i don’t want this night to end,” you admitted as he walked you to your apartment door. you’d just gotten back from dinner and a walk through the park, to celebrate two whole months since you became spencer reid’s girlfriend.

“me neither. but you need to sleep, otherwise you’ll be grumpy in the morning.” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. he made you wish you could have so much more time together than just two months of spencer reid being your boyfriend.

“i like my sleep. but i think i like you more,” you press your back against the door, inviting him in, to you.

“somehow i don’t want to test that theory,” he made you laugh, cradling your face in his hands as he leaned in and kissed you.

soft, full of want and longing, one of his hands cupped the back of your head, you tilting it back as your back arched against him. your hands wandered over his sides, down his chest, the slight tremble of his body against your hands made you feel powerful. the thought that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, was as affected by a brush of touch as you were.

“i- um, i should go. wouldn't want to keep you up,” spencer cleared his throat, pressing soft kisses to your cheek.

you knew it was basically impossible, but spencer was so dumb if he thought you'd be able to fall asleep right after this.

“okay,” you replied, hands fisting the soft material of his shirt before letting go, “text me when you get home?”

“of course. good night,” he pecked your lips once more, taking his time as he moved away from you.

“night, spence,” you whispered, your hand finding his for one last touch.

he pulled your joined hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, you swore your heart was beating out of your chest.

that night you dreamt of his lips on yours, his hands exploring, adoring your body, you felt something other than butterflies in your stomach, something new and exciting, hotter.

a week later, your best friend sarah sat on your couch as you told her everything that had been going on between you and spencer. when you showed a few pictures you'd taken of him, and the two of you together, she actually high-fived you as you giggled, excitement filling your body.

“i don’t want to get my hopes up so much, so soon, but-” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks as you recall the kiss you’d shared the last time you saw each other, on the other side of your door. he'd been called in to help on a case with the bau and would be arriving that night, “he makes me wanna fall in love. make him fall in love with me, i-” you shook your head, it was stupid to be this infatuated with someone so soon.

“well if he’s managed to get you this lovesick so soon, i say go for it. get your man, who cares that it’s only been two months?” she shrugged her shoulder, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around you, “i’ve seen you through all your stages, and i’ve never seen you like this. you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, it seems like mr fbi makes you happy.”

“it’s dr.” you corrected, smiling as images of him filled your head, when he explained his extensive college degrees.

two days later, you finished doing your hair, waiting for spencer to arrive. since he’d been lecturing more often now, it’d been easier to schedule dates with him, and his eagerness to see you as soon as possible made your heart almost beat out of your chest.

you rushed to answer the knock on the door, the familiar pattern spencer always knocked against your front door caused an almost pavlovian response in you.

“hey,” you smiled, opening the door wider to let him in. “what’s that?” you asked, looking at a medium-sized pink box with a bow wrapped around it.

“it was on your doorstep,” he handed it to you, you frowned, grabbing it and read a yellow post-it note glued to the top.

‘to my beautiful friend and dr. fbi, be safe and have fun ;)!’

you immediately flushed, seeing sarah’s familiar handwriting. you shook your head with a small smile.

“everything okay?” spencer asked, taking a step toward you as he closed the door behind him. “do you know who sent it? if not i could probably-”

“yes, don’t worry, thank you. it’s from sarah, uh- my best friend i told you about?”

“oh, right, the wedding planner?” you nodded in answer. “what is it?” he asked, taking off his coat and hanging it next to your mess of handbags and coats, removing his shoes as well. making himself at home.

“i don’t know, uh- it’s- for the both of us,” you swore your cheeks could not get any hotter, as spencer stood next to you, a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in to read the small note.

“oh.” was all he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed skin. “should we- uh, see what’s inside?”

“um, yeah, i just… i don’t know what it could be, and i apologize if it’s something inappropriate, i-”

“it’s alright, let’s just see what it is,”

with your heart in your throat, you undid the bow and lifted the top.

“oh, my god.” your cheeks burned, your chest not too far behind, and you heard spencer breathing in sharply.

inside the pink box laid a ton of condoms, in different sizes, a small pink vibrator, something that was supposed to be a set of lingerie, but was so small and transparent that you were sure you’d be better off wearing nothing. and to top it all off, a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. another note rested below them.

‘i’m not sure if the fbi has something against improper use of official handcuffs. use these ones meanwhile.’

you were going to die. scratch that, you were going to kill sarah and then yourself.

your trembling hands shook the box in your grasp, your whole being was screaming at you to toss it away, to cover it back up, to hide in your bedroom. but you stood there, frozen, still aware of spencer’s hand on your shoulder.

“i’m- i- i’m so sorry, i-” you managed to snap out of your shock, tossing the box on the couch and covering your face with your hands.

“hey, it’s okay- it’s-” he cleared his throat, “it’s an interesting gift, uh-”

“it was inappropriate and i should’ve- i should’ve checked before and…” you kept your hands cradling your burning cheeks, looking up at spencer and feeling your eyes burning too.

“it’s alright. i’m not offended or anything, i promise, besides i don’t think she did it with bad intentions, um- it seems like, uh, quite the opposite,” he cleared his throat once more, one hand moving to scratch the back of his head, and you noticed a pink tint in his cheeks, he was just as nervous as you were. “they don’t, by the way.”

“sorry?”

“the- uh, the bureau.” he clarified, “they wouldn’t know if i uh- were to use the handcuffs for, um-”

“oh.” you breathed, “that’s uh- good to know, i guess. yeah.” you answered, your mind wandering to places it definitely shouldn’t have.

“hey.” he called, standing in front of you, grabbing your hands in one of his, the other one raising to hold your face. “i know we haven’t talked about… uh, sex- yet, but- we won’t do anything until you want to. and if you don’t want to use any of this stuff we won’t either. the condoms, yeah, of course-”

“i’m on the pill.” you blurted out, and immediately regretted it.

“okay, but still, i’m not opposed to wearing condoms, yeah?” he reassured you, “let’s talk about something else, okay? i can feel how warm your face is. there’s no rush, i promise.”

“yeah?” you asked, getting lost in the change of his eyes, worried and soft, hopeful. “thank you.”

“of course. you don’t have to thank me,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead, and just like that all the uneasiness inside you melted away. “you good?”

“i- yeah. sorry for- freaking out i- i just didn’t know how you’d react to this, and i don’t- i don’t want to ruin this.”

“you didn’t. god, no, honey.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “i’ve never felt this way before,” he admitted, “if anything i’m the one who should be worried about ruining this, with all my past and all the trauma.”

“spencer, i don’t care about that- i li- i like you just the way you are.”

“exactly, you don't judge me for my past, or make me feel self-conscious about it. and i like you just as you are too. sweet and shy, and all flustered for me.” he placed his hand on your stomach, “breathe, deep.” he instructed, “in, hold it, out.” you followed his lead, somehow unaware of how uneven your breathing was, though it didn’t surprise you. “and now i’m going to change the topic of conversation because i don’t want you to pass out on me, yeah?”

you laughed at that, shutting your eyes and shaking your head slightly, when you opened them back up, you were met with his soft, tender eyes looking at you intently.

“hey,” spencer said, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close. your arms, on instinct, found their place on his neck.

“hi.” you murmured sheepishly. “i didn’t even say hello to you properly.”

“that’s alright. let’s order some food and we can catch up, that sound good?” he asked, you nodded, a burst of confidence inside of you made you stand on your toes and kiss his cheek.

“i really like you.” you confessed, not knowing where this bravery came from. maybe it was just him. something about spencer as a whole just brought comfort and peace to you. if he was with you you’d be alright.

“i really like you too, sweet girl.” he grabbed on tighter to you, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. all the air left your lungs once more as your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair. your loud mind became foggy as you focused on the feeling of him on you. his lips, his body pressed against yours, his hands on you.

a soft, surprised moan left your throat as spencer bit your lower lip lighty, retreating.

“i’ll make the call, italian okay?”

he left you standing there, still reeling from the kiss, the ghost of his lips on yours still there, your tongue poked out to lick your lips, tasting him, tasting yourself.

god bless whatever genes, deities and universes that came together in order to create spencer reid.

and if one of him is perfect, could the world handle two? a mini reid, with his hair and eyes and brain, his politeness, as well as the best part of your genes?

it’s a wicked thought for such an early state in a relationship.

“i ordered the tiramisu also, i remember you really liked it the last time we were there, i hope that’s okay.”

“it’s perfect, thank you.” you walk to him, quieting your mind as you hug him, burying your face in his chest. “thank you.”

for wanting me, for making me feel special, for paying attention, for liking me, for not running away, for making me believe a future is possible.

it all goes unsaid, but you mean it, and you hope he doesn’t think you’re clingy, as you pour all your feelings into the hug.

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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quaithe-seastar · 2 months

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Mine all mine

Aemond x Wife reader

Summary: Yours and Aemond's child refuses to let you sleep.

A/N: This is a short fluff piece I wrote two years ago after season one ended. I just thought I would post it now.

“Hush now, little one, I’ve-” you yawn, trying to blink the sleep away from your eyes. “I’ve got you.” You tiredly cooed as you picked up the writhing baby from her cradle for the fourth time.

“She’s quite restless tonight,” your husband groaned from your shared bed.

You patted the baby on the back to soothe the sniffling girl, humming in agreement. Then, you placed the back of your hand against her clammy forehead.

“She’s quite warm; perhaps we should send for a maester?”

You watched as Aemond sat up. He instinctively reached for the black leather eyepatch to conceal his sapphire eye before stopping himself. It had taken him almost a year after the two of you wed before he felt comfortable enough to let you see him without it. But even now, a couple of years later, insecurity still managed to worm its way under his skin.

His long hair started falling out of the simple braid you had put it in before bed. The child gurgled and squirmed with excitement when he walked to your side.

A wide grin stretched across his face as your daughter squealed with delight as he took her into his arms.

“How is my little one feeling? Mother thinks you're unwell,” he scrunched his face, making the baby giggle.

“I’m serious, Aemond. You know what the maester said. If she gets another fever, we should take her to him.”

“She’s a little warm, my love. Most likely from that thick blanket, you insisted on wrapping her in.” He chided, lazily gesturing towards the cradle.

“She was cold,” you mumble, realizing that perhaps the man was right. Not that you were willing to admit that to him.

Your little family made your way back to the large bed in the middle of the room. The sky was beginning to lighten, though the sun had yet to appear. The loud chirping of birds could be heard, along with the servants who had awoken to start their daily duties before the nobles awoke. You climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over your body to fight off the morning chill. Aemond rested his back against the pillows, sitting your child on his lap.

You watched with a smile as Daenys toyed with her father’s fingers. She quickly lowered her face and bit down. The man pulled it back with an exaggerated hiss. The little girl froze, her eyes widened, and her mouth hung open in shock. However, her mood swiftly changed as she giggled at her father’s pained expression. She grinned widely, exposing the two front teeth that had recently sprouted from her gums.

“Carefully, husband, or you may lose a finger,” you tease.

The man shot you a playful glare before lecturing the child on biting. However, it only seemed to make the child giggle even more.

“Now, Daenys, what have we said about the biting? You do not bite kepa. Save that for your uncle.”

You rolled your eyes at his childishness.

“Do you want me to take her?” You asked. “There’s no use in both of us being exhausted.”

“No, you get some rest,” he replied absent-mindedly.

Aemond kept his gaze on your little girl. A giddy smile sat on his lips as Daenys crawled up his chest. He took hold of one of her chubby little hands, holding it to his mouth, pretending to eat it. She squealed, pulling it away before holding it out for him to take again.

You smiled and rested your head on the soft feather pillow beneath you, watching as the two people most dear to your heart played together. It was such a heartwarming sight. You fought to keep your eyes open, but sleep had won.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fire and blood #hotd #girldad!aemond #dad!aemond #blurb

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hyunniesgirl · 10 months

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I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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