#I knew smth was off about that white girl

[based-and-rinpilled]

NIAMH LYCNH YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH

[mrsbarnesblog]

my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 

“I’m your girl?” 

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

[zreamy]

won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again. 

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt. 

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you. 

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision. 

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always. 

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had. 

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried. 

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table. 

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer.. 

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything. 

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?” 

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too. 

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?” 

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” 

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?” 

You set your jaw. “Okay.” 

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two. 

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?” 

“Do what?” 

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker. 

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.” 

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead. 

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he��ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.” 

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting. 

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?” 

“He told me.” 

“You guys still talk?” 

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice. 

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to. 

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners. 

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed. 

“Heeseung.” 

“I really have to go.” 

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside. 

You don’t follow him. 

But that was in June, and now it’s September. 

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook. 

“Is someone sitting here?” 

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room. 

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down. 

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened. 

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides. 

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest. 

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you. 

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together. 

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off. 

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach. 

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road. 

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food. 

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.” 

“It’s absurd.” 

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.” 

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face. 

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.” 

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.” 

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?” 

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.” 

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?” 

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too. 

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him. 

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.” 

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring. 

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and  say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?” 

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends. 

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home. 

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.” 

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all. 

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.” 

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.” 

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving. 

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?” 

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?” 

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.” 

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.” 

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?” 

“So she doesn’t.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs. 

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.” 

“Are you crying?” Jay coos. 

“Sure.” 

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?” 

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too. 

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.” 

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls. 

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet. 

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch. 

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves. 

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping. 

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back. 

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body. 

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away. 

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!” 

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!” 

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!” 

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you. 

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home. 

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back. 

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.” 

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?” 

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.” 

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.” 

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck. 

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it. 

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all. 

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class. 

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with? 

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw? 

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?” 

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn. 

“No, ne—just no.” 

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?” 

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face. 

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow? 

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders. 

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done. 

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :) 

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk? 

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood. 

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands. 

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go? 

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. 

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well! 

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement. 

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up. 

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.” 

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!” 

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too. 

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully. 

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot���they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?” 

“Host what?” 

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem. 

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt. 

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing. 

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven. 

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win. 

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?” 

Heeseung can only shrug in response. 

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well. 

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either. 

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck. 

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.” 

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.” 

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?” 

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall. 

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes. 

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly. 

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him. 

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. “Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange. 

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay. 

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him. 

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” 

“What did he say?” 

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly. 

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?” 

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.” 

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long. 

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.” 

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods. 

“Did you guys have fun?” 

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.” 

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.” 

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head. 

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.” 

“Oh, cool.” 

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering. 

“Good for Jimin.” 

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.” 

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.” 

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.” 

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt. 

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so.. 

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought. 

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says. 

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?” 

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks. 

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.” 

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.” 

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?” 

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while. 

“And now?” 

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral. 

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep. 

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence. 

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. 

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.” 

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life. 

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.” 

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you. 

“Do something,” Jay mumbles. 

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming. 

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick. 

“Insane,” he admits. 

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.” 

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top. 

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest. 

“Good luck.” 

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another. 

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him. 

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles. 

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll. 

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you. 

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door. 

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble. 

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?” 

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table. 

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.” 

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.” 

“Me too.” 

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did. 

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp. 

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails. 

“What happened?” 

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door. 

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.” 

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.” 

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.” 

“Is it harder to take off?” 

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.” 

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?” 

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh.” 

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time. 

“It’s 12:23.” 

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?” 

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.” 

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.” 

“I wish I never left.” 

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had. 

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?” 

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.” 

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.” 

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?” 

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow. 

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours. 

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.” 

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.” 

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress. 

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.” 

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful. 

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?” 

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?” 

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A  non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops. 

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!” 

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung. 

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat. 

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him. 

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold. 

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.” 

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.” 

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for. 

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands. 

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted. 

Almost. 

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up. 

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen. 

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down. 

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday. 

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?” 

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.” 

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair. 

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt. 

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning. 

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard. 

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet. 

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting. 

“Okay, ouch.” 

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.” 

“What if I wanted to make them this week?” 

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.” 

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine. 

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said. 

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right. 

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.” 

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?” 

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works. 

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow. 

“What are we eating?” 

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s. 

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss. 

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap. 

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?” 

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more. 

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift. 

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind. 

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!” 

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.” 

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.” 

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet. 

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably 

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.” 

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey.” 

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?” 

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started. 

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him. 

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan. 

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.” 

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.” 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window. 

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind. 

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks. 

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again. 

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.” 

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.” 

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?” 

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.” 

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas. 

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,”  you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping. 

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing. 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket. 

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds. 

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him. 

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.” 

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it. 

“I actually like beer these days.” 

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa. 

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious. 

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.” 

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion. 

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?” 

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go. 

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know. 

“You’re weird too.” 

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle. 

“You’ve always been weird.” 

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away. 

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?” 

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.” 

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.” 

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?” 

“A little.” 

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together. 

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train. 

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up. 

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again. 

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles. 

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning. 

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.” 

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.” 

“It kind of was.” 

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.” 

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling. 

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.” 

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.” 

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?” 

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.” 

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?” 

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.” 

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“Never.” 

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.” 

“Got it.” 

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves. 

He’s never drinking with you again. 

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly. 

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.” 

“Or we could skip?” 

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up. 

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.” 

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt. 

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says. 

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out. 

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food. 

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides. 

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building. 

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope. 

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves. 

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.” 

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door. 

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for. 

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home. 

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave. 

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.” 

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests. 

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you. 

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do. 

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze. 

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.” 

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?” 

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally. 

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.” 

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did. 

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.” 

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.” 

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing. 

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to. 

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move. 

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass. 

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again. 

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency? 

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting. 

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door. 

“My pocket,” you mumble. 

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly. 

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school. 

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?” 

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change. 

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.” 

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy. 

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.” 

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.” 

“You would have made the wrong one.” 

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?” 

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?” 

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.” 

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.” 

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to. 

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?” 

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.” 

“Evidently, I do not.” 

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung. 

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.” 

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.” 

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.” 

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more. 

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him. 

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus. 

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer. 

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.” 

“Hello.” 

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen. 

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven. 

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink. 

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong. 

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly. 

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You were going to.” 

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” 

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt. 

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky. 

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom. 

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway. 

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him. 

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern. 

You look up at him, nodding. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.” 

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.” 

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.” 

“We have class in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too. 

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.” 

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet. 

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers. 

“What are you doing, Heeseung?” 

“Trying to sleep.” 

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him. 

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation. 

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.” 

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?” 

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.” 

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code. 

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.” 

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.” 

“But she did.” 

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word. 

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?” 

“It’s not like that, not really.” 

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.” 

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?” 

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring. 

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.” 

“Cool.” he nods, relieved. 

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.” 

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?” 

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.” 

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?” 

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.” 

“It wasn’t as easy as that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.” 

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough. 

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.” 

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life. 

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?” 

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.” 

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.” 

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.” 

“Heeseung.” 

“You had a choice.” 

“Heeseung.” 

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried. 

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.” 

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation. 

“It’s not too late.” 

You tilt your head at him. “What?” 

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?” 

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says. 

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it. 

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived. 

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards. 

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you. 

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time. 

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine. 

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung. 

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread. 

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you. 

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago. 

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on. 

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month. 

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead. 

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one. 

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge. 

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.” 

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her. 

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze! 

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.” 

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them. 

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options. 

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally. 

“But it’s Thursday.” 

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?” 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind. 

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless. 

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes. 

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed. 

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.” 

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.” 

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note. 

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :(  We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later? 

— Your Hee. 

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life. 

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you. 

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out. 

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?” 

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway. 

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs. 

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed. 

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.” 

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist. 

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?” 

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back. 

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out. 

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead. 

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.” 

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms. 

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan. 

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?” 

“In what context?” 

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.” 

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin. 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.” 

“Can we kiss now?” 

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects. 

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips. 

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.” 

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips. 

He understands, Heeseung always understands. 

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut. 

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat. 

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.” 

“No.” 

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?” 

“I’m starting now.” 

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.” 

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.” 

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?” 

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.” 

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?” 

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly. 

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips. 

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads. 

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” 

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you. 

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text. 

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound? 

you: sounds good :D 

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight. 

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies. 

jay: sounds good :D 

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now. 

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. 

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.” 

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed. 

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder. 

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” 

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?” 

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him. 

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks. 

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts. 

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in. 

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.” 

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching. 

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap. 

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too. 

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?” 

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung. 

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair. 

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you. 

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky. 

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.” 

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung. 

And Jake. 

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree. 

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face? 

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you. 

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction. 

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.” 

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it. 

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over. 

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white. 

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him. 

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours. 

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.” 

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment. 

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.” 

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.” 

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head. 

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh. 

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else. 

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you. 

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear. 

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it. 

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow. 

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away. 

“You don’t want this?” 

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking. 

“We’ve been together for six years.” 

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands. 

He closes his eyes, nodding. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees. 

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager. 

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there. 

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice. 

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down. 

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand. 

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.” 

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.” 

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been. 

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar. 

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape. 

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?” 

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes. 

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears. 

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.” 

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning. 

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face. 

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing. 

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours. 

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm. 

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.” 

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning. 

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers. 

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around. 

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night. 

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back. 

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit. 

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy. 

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between. 

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up. 

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips. 

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly. 

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop. 

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips. 

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you. 

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes. 

“I’m not going to beg.” 

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room. 

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.” 

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin. 

“You have me.” 

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him. 

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.” 

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?” 

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.” 

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.” 

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead. 

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles. 

“What are you talking about?” 

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little. 

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?” 

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.” 

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach. 

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish. 

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate. 

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile. 

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?” 

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin. 

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away. 

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?” 

You nod. 

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach. 

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan. 

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head. 

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve. 

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck. 

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral. 

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind. 

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?” 

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?” 

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips. 

“Me too.” 

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours. 

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.” 

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge. 

You nod desperately. “Please.” 

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach. 

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take. 

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck. 

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. 

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach. 

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers. 

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake. 

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it. 

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress. 

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear. 

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head. 

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?” 

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction, 

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up. 

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn. 

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed. 

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?” 

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.” 

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.” 

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over. 

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing. 

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time. 

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.” 

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona

babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀

*Perceval*

You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.

Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.

Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.

It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.

In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.

The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.

This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.

All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.

He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.

Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.

Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”

Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.

The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.

[redcoralpot]

Stu!! I love seeing ppl love him. Would I be able to request some roleswap ish au, where reader is a slasher, and stu is the "final girl". He gets caught ofc, and reader unmasks, smut ensues (maybe stu had a crush or smth, maybe dubcon if u accept it).

Unrelated: Loved seeing Matthew lillard as william Afton, he did so good.

Ruined Man - Stu Macher X M!Reader

Summary: Stu Macher was a classic rich boy; arrogant, eccentric, and an asshole. He was known for playing cruel pranks on others, and earlier in the weak, he pranked Sidney by scaring her as the infamous Ghostface Killer. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Trick or treat, right?

Warnings: NSFW, non-fatal violence, weapons.

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I don't write anything with SA, CNC, or dub-con; Stu plainly consents to the activities described. He has implied feelings for the Reader, and other implied activities as well... but I'll let you discover that part.

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Crickets chirped in the grass, the crescent moon high in the sky. Finally, the noise from the Macher’s Halloween party had died down, and most people had left already, causing a blanket of peace to float down on the street. Any stragglers were drunkenly slumped against the curb, blacked out or calling for a sober ride. Your mask stuck out from the shadows, exaggerated and white, as you watched the property slowly become empty. Well, empty except for the host, of course. Stu Macher.

You could see him through one of the many windows, lounging on the first floor’s living room couch, still moving. Your fingers fumbled against the phone’s dial– god, how do killers run in this shit– pulling the black fabric further up your arm to position the voice changer closer to your mouth. Now, you patiently waited for the other man to pick up, seeing him jolt out of his position. Stu rubbed his eyes, and stumbled to the kitchen.

“Yo?”

Your lips curled into a nasty sneer, “Do you like scary movies, Stu?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Don’t make me choose, you know I’ve watched too many good ones!”

…

Huh? There was no way he knew your identity already. You’ll give him credit, he’s smart, but most definitely not that smart. Stu always visits the rental store Randy works at, and he always rented horror movies with Sidney’s boyfriend, Billy Loomis; that much you knew. He could not have seen you through the window before he ran into the kitchen, and even if he managed to, your mask was still securely strapped on.

“You still there? I haven’t dropped off Hellraiser yet, you could've just asked if you wanna watch it again.”

You hung up, breath quickening. Stu wasn’t scared, even though you were using the same voice changer as the loose, prank-calling murderer running around the streets of Woodsboro. You dumped the phone on the ground, hidden behind a bush. If he wasn’t scared by a little sound-a-like, that was fine, you came prepared. Stu’s garage door had been left open, and you jogged over. Frankly, it didn’t matter how much the rich boy had it coming, you were never doing this again. The costume’s long fringes caught on your feet, almost causing you to trip as you avoided the windows; less silent than you had hoped. Your shoes shuffled against the concrete, and you jiggled the handle of the only door, praying it would open. It creaked as you slipped inside, your shoes surely creasing when you tiptoed into the living room. From behind the couch, you could see that Stu was still in his kitchen, but he was looking around.

He grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Nobody else’s here, Billy. You don’t gotta sneak into my house, you know that!”

 Sighing, you watch him leave the room to wander about the hallways, stopping by the door you had snuck through– and forgot to close. He squinted, looking at the mistake, and back at the living room. Your cheeks burned, adrenaline starting to pump in your veins as he took a few steps closer. 

“C’mon, you wanna have a movie marathon? It’s kinda late for that, but whatever. I have plenty of snacks left from the party, and a whole lot more puke!”

Stu turned away at the last second, choosing instead to sprint down into the bathroom. You could hear a muffled, “Gotcha… nope,” over rustling cloth as you crawled on your hands and knees into the kitchen. The freezing tile shocked any distraction from your system, and you stood up, settling into the darkest part of the kitchen. One of your hands held a dull knife, while the other held the little voice changer machine. However, your position left you without visuals on your victim. You were tempted to pull down your hood, but that would be too reckless, especially since he seemed to think you were his dearest friend. Oh, man, he didn’t know what was coming. 

“Y’know I love pranks, man, but time’s up,” He probed, leaning on the marbled island, just out of reach.

Stu visibly flinched as he turned around and found you staring at him, the mask’s empty eyes giving nothing away. It took him but a second to recover, yet, and a smile accompanied his wild eyes, “Billy!”

You tilted your head, slowly raising your left hand, “Incorrect.”

He didn’t have time to respond; you lunged. You gripped his collar in a fist and slammed him into the countertop– he winced. Stu tried pushing you back, but it was in vain, your knife already threatening to pierce his throat.

Your full weight was on the man, and he raised his hands in defeat. Stu’s chest rose and fell in hefty patterns; you snickered at his obedience. His head slumped back as you released his shirt, in favor of wrenching your mask off to face him.

“Surprise, Macher.”

Stu chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip, “Didn’t know you were in on it too.”

“In on what– aren’t you scared?” You growled, pressing the knife into the flesh of his neck, but not enough to draw blood.

“Dunno,” his back arched, causing a drop of blood to drip down his shirt, “I think you could’ve done better!”

You flipped him over, slicing a fringe off of your costume to tie his hands with. Your hips were in between his thighs, leaving him trapped, and the robe itself fell on the floor beside its mask. Stu giggled, hoisting up his torso with his elbows.

“It’s payback; you could use some.”

He winced as you pulled his hair, “Hngh, it was Billy’s idea.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

You rasped, moving to step back, “Nothing you don’t want; I think the prank’s done enough.”

Stu seemed to freeze, albeit briefly, but he wrapped his ankles around your hips– preventing you from running. Your hands brushed against them, tense, as his shoulders shook.

“I wanna.” A smile laced his tone.

“You sure?”

“I’m pose-itive,” he joked, “get it?”

You wrenched his mouth open, pressing down on his tongue with your thumb, “Shut it.”

He nodded, trying his best to close his lips around your finger. Your other hand trailed down his side, taking its sweet time, before landing on his waist. Saliva still connected your fingers to his mouth as you removed them, all in favor of lifting his hips. Underneath, you unzipped his jeans, taking extra care to avoid giving any friction. When you stepped back to slide them off of Stu, he whined, his hips still chasing your touch. His jeans were thrown aside, and you slid back in your place. You knew he could feel your breath on his neck.

Your crotch ground against his ass, a shiver spreading across his spine. Stu was audibly panting; his head was hanging low and he pushed his hips to meet your thrusts. You hummed, choosing to drag the knife in soft strokes down his back, the cool metal only just piercing his skin. Red oozed in thick droplets out of the wounds, some getting big enough to trickle down his back. The pain seemed to follow it down, as Stu made quite the pathetic noise. 

“We’ve barely even gotten started, Macher, and you’re this desperate already?” You teased.

“Mm, show me what ‘cha got!”

You chuckle and suck a bruise onto the back of his neck. From that position, you could hear a groan rumble in his throat, but it wasn’t strong enough to escape. Hm, you could change that. You sunk the edge of your teeth into a different spot, holding on for a second before soothing the bite with your tongue. If the bruise didn’t make what happened obvious, well, this would. Stu would just have to deal with it. Though, you doubt he’d mind.

The knife clattered onto the marble counter after you dropped it, Stu’s thighs twitching, “Where’s the lube?”

Stu didn’t answer, but only whined.

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

His voice shook, trying to form words past used lips, “Bathroom.”

“Louder, I didn’t hear you the first time.”

Stu wiggled against your weight, “C’mon, man– f-fuck, it’s in the bathroom, please!”

You tutted, a cruel grin on your face, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t need directions, and as soon as you were out of his view, you practically ran there. Hell, you weren’t gonna miss out on this chance, were you? Stu, the eccentric boy that played downright evil pranks on anybody that breathed around him, reduced to a perverted degenerate. Perhaps he was already like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised. 

The lube was in a small, portable bottle that was half empty when you found it. Back in the kitchen, you poured the majority of what was left in your palm and fingers. Using just two, for the moment, you spread it over his hole; a finger may have dipped in every once and a while, in the process. 

“I wanna, I wanna do it already,” Stu shuddered, his fidgeting acting up again.

A finger eased its way inside, a little too easily, much to your surprise, “Not yet.”

“I really wanna.” Another, just as simply.

“That’s too bad;” you mused, “have you been fingering yourself?”

He bit down on his bottom lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth, “Uhuh, uhuh.”

“To what?”

“Y-you, and me.” 

You spread the final bit over your dick, before pressing your hand into the sides of his neck, “You little pervert. Bet you loved getting a glimpse of me in the locker room, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, yes– oh, shit.” Stu’s little tangent was interrupted by you slamming inside; the sting melted in with pleasure as you brushed his prostate.

Only for a moment did you stop to let him adjust, before pulling out and thrusting again. You found a rhythm, and the counter rubbed against his cock as you continued, smearing precum over the wood. His hands, still bound, scrabbled for anything to hold onto, but in vain. His nails just slid off of the smooth stone, his drool making it even slippier. Stu squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a knot grow in his gut. 

He clenched around you, causing you to grunt, “‘M gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please… ah!”

“We’re not done yet,” you hissed, firmly slapping his thigh.

“I can’t hold it, man, I really can’t,” he sobbed out, eyelashes wet from unreleased tears.

A sharp pain on his shoulder burned through any restraint the guy had, the knot unraveling as quickly as it had formed. Stu thrashed, the fringe snapping, and his vision whited out. His brain was all fuzzy; the only thing he could focus on was gripping the edge of the counter. Stu’s face was smushed against the counter, crimson mixing with the white surface. He shivered, eyes heavy, feeling a little floaty when a thick liquid dripped down his thighs. You pulled out of him, rubbing his waist as you did so.

“Good job, Macher. That was one hell of a show you put on, ” you sighed.

“Hhn.”

His body was limp as you turned him over, using the oven towel to start to clean him up, “How’re you feeling?”

Stu finally opened his eyes, using all of his strength to grin up at you, “Dude… that was like, awesome.”

“Pfft, you sound out of it.”

“Eh, what makes you say that? I want a big glass of water!”

You cackled, leaving his side to shuffle through a cabinet full of fancy cups, finally choosing a sturdy looking mug. He grabbed it as soon as it was in arms reach, taking huge gulps from it, like he had been starved. Or, more so dying of thirst. 

When he finished, you softly said, “Do you need help getting into bed?”

Stu shrugged, so you took that as a yes. You heaved him over your shoulder, supporting him up the stairs as he giggled the whole way. As you tucked him in, you swore you could hear something from down in the kitchen.

A phone’s ring.

-

Taglist: @jaspeywasy89 , @cannabrisano , @fandomz-brainrot

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hiya hiya! Once again congratulations on 500! I was wondering if I could request a fic with Isagi and handholding! Idk hand holding sounds very romantic so I would love to see how you’ll write it!

── PATHWAYS

Synopsis: You go on a walk with your boyfriend while he’s on a break from the intense training of Blue Lock.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: fluff, isagi is lowkey a simp, slight rin and nagi slander (i love them though i promise)

A/N: EEK i’m sorry this took me a sec anon!! i’ve never written for isagi before so this was def smth new which is why it took me a bit to get in the right headspace. i hope it’s okay for you <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was colder outside than you had expected. Isagi, who was wearing a coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck, didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, but as for you, you were miserably trying to hide your shivers, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself to disguise it. He had told you that it was chilly, and you had ignored his warning, so it was now your burden to bear.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Isagi said, white clouds forming in the air from the heat of his breath. “I missed you a lot the entire time I was there.”

“I missed you, too,” you said. “I know we were able to talk a few times on your one friend’s phone, but it wasn’t the same.”

Isagi wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my own back. I really tried my best. I wanted to talk to you as much as I could, to make up for our physical distance.”

“It’s okay. The fact that you were willing to take care of all of your teammate’s sweaty, gross laundry just to get the chance to call me for a couple of minutes means more to me than anything,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked along the side of the dirt path connecting your house to the nearest park.

“That was definitely a sacrifice,” he said, gagging from just the memory. “I’d do it again for you, but it was really horrible, Y/N. It’s bad enough dealing with my own clothes after matches, but adding Nagi’s to the mix…it was brutal, to say the least.”

“My poor boyfriend,” you said. “I’m so lucky to have someone who’s willing to endure so much for me. I must’ve been a really good person in my last life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I was kind of scared you’d find someone else while I was gone. It would only make sense, right? How could a girl as beautiful as you not have a million other options? It would be pretty easy for you to forget about me and move on.”

“Would you forget about me and move on if the roles were reversed?” you said, your teeth chattering. Isagi’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing behind his dark hair.

“No way!” he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders. “I’d never, ever do that. I still can’t believe I’m dating you at all!”

“You’re so goofy,” you said. “Hey, don’t give me this. Won’t you get cold?”

“Nah, I’m tough. What kind of number-one striker gets defeated by some wind?” he said. You hummed appreciatively, zipping up the large jacket and rejoicing in the warmth it instantly provided you with.

“Number-one striker, and the hero of Blue Lock, I’m told,” you said. His cheeks turned pink.

“That, too,” he said.

“It’s all everyone at school talks about. One day, you just randomly disappeared, and no one but me knew where you had gone. Then suddenly, you were on TV, making the winning goal in one of the most exciting matches of soccer any of us had ever seen! I feel like the girlfriend of a celebrity,” you said.

“You should get used to it,” he said. “I’m only going to get better from here. I’ll be a World Cup winner next, and since you’re stuck with me, you’re going to have to deal with everything that that entails.”

“Stuck with you?” you said. He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly, holding up your interlaced fingers so that he could admire them.

“Do you see your hand?” he said, very seriously. 

“I see it,” you said.

“And you see mine?” he continued.

“Mhm,” you said. As always, his were warm, compared to the iciness of your extremities. He liked to joke that it meant the two of you were made for each other, only able to reach the perfect temperature when you were together.

“That’s us,” he said. “We’re going to be like that forever.”

“Goofy and cheesy? What a lethal combination,” you said, shaking your head.

His palm was callused and rough against yours, a proof of how hard he worked. He was always like that, you had noticed even upon first meeting him, always doing the best he could in any given situation, making up for any disadvantages with the sheer force of his will alone. It was nice to have that tangible reminder of who he was pressed against you, so you made no move to let go of his hand even after his little demonstration had concluded.

“I know,” he said. “And my jokes are really bad. But you like that about me, right?”

“I do,” you said. “Your jokes aren’t terrible, though. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“They make you laugh, so I guess they can’t be that bad,” he said. “Although everyone in Blue Lock hated them. One time, my friend Bachira threw a shoe at me for being unfunny, and Rin Itoshi called me a lukewarm NPC for trying to cheer him up with a pun.”

“If anyone is an NPC, it’s him, just for unironically calling someone that,” you said. “They just don’t understand you, Isagi. It’s okay; true art is never appreciated by the masses.”

“That’s right. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind if they detest me,” he said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Should we get sour gummies at the convenience store? It’s been forever since I had some,” he said, his entire face turning red. It was funny — he would declare his love to you in the most cliched of ways and entirely on a whim, but if you ever reciprocated, he would shut down entirely. Like he said, he really still couldn’t believe that you both were actually together, that in fact you had been together for months now, and so he often acted like a little kid with his first crush whenever he was around you.

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ve been craving some myself,” you said.

“Okay! Let’s go. I’ll race you!” he said, taking off at a run, though contrary to his challenging words, he pulled you along, careful to keep your hands connected as you giggled and stumbled after him.

You had missed him, so much more than you could ever verbalize. You had spent every day that he was gone thinking about him, his spontaneity, his wide smile and his kindness, the gentle way he always spoke to you, how easily taking care of you came to him.

Running towards the convenience store alongside him, you held onto his hand tightly, as much for balance as because you couldn’t imagine letting go. 

[sixxteenbullets]

HIDDEN AWAY-

Saw smth the other day and I can't stop thinking about it.

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!innocent!reader

Warnings: u and Henry getting walked in on by Patrick, being watched doin yk, swearing, sexual themes.

______

HENRY Bowers had a girl that was the opposite of him. She was a kind, sweet soul and he wanted to keep her that way. He knew exactly who he was and who his friends were, so to keep up with his goal, he needed her to stay away from his friends. The issue sounded easy to defeat, if his friends were normal.

Two boys, Belch and Vic, he trusted enough to stay away from her. After all, they weren't really ever interested in defying Henry. Though, Patrick was a piece of work. As much as he loved innocence, he loved pushing limits. He was tall, obsessed with pyro, and a sadist to the bone. That was exactly the kind of person Henry needed his girl to stay away from. Someone who could tear away her joy, make her sad and scared, and strip her of her kindness, turning her timid and quiet. He'd seen her that way once, during a bad fight, and he swore to keep her from those feelings for as long as he could. Only he could break her down.

"Hey Hen," Y/n smiled at him, her white teeth shining as bright as ever. "You called."

"Old man ain't gonna be home tonight," He pushed himself off of his bed and sauntered over to her. "Was thinking you could stay?"

She didn't have an ideal home life, either. She wasn't beat, like Henry, and she still had both of her parents, but they were mean. Driven by religion, the girl didn't get to choose her own path very often, and a lot of her decisions were made for her. That was part of why she kept her innocence. There was nothing she could do to break it.

"Yeah, totally." She walked closer to him, meeting him in the middle of his room, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms looked around her waist and they were pulled flush against each other. As their lips met, a bubbly giggle escaped her throat and she smiled against his mouth. His face remained straight, but the sound of her giddiness woke such a fierce happiness within him, it was hard to keep from giggling back at her.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" A mere whisper, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as they met the ones that stared up at him. She never spoke like this. It was just a simple question, but there was a passion behind her words that she never had before. They had been dating for a month, and she typically pushed away his sexual advances, so when she made her own, he knew this was not something to pass up.

His hands ever so slightly lowered on her waist, resting on the peak of her butt. When she put up no objections, they lowered and he gave a small squeeze, which triggered another giggle. Just as he was about to say something suggestive, her lips crashed into his open mouth, and their tongues danced in harmony for a minute before he pulled away for a breath.

Her head leaned up to follow him, objecting to the end of their kiss, but she soon realized her own lack of breath. "What are you doing?"

"I want you." There was absolutely no sign of hesitation in her voice. Every bit of every word dripped with a lust that sounded foreign on her tongue. "Every inch."

He had heard enough. He had been waiting for over a month to hear her ask for him. To finally give herself to him.

Every fiber of his being itched to go fast, to shove her onto his bed and hear her screams as she cried his name. To hear the innocence dissolve from her voice, and only a sinful, whimpering cry would be left. But he didn't think she would like that just yet, so he willed his body to go slow, to pace himself and be gentle as he stole something sacred from her.

"I want you to be rough. Show me every side of you tonight. The good the bad and the parts you never let anyone see. You can have my body if I can have your soul." She always did that. Talk in poetic speeches, using grammer he's completely stranger to. And he loved it just as much as he loved seeing the passion in her eyes as every word spoke it's truth.

They were on the bed in no time, and her request rang through his ears. She wanted everything. And he would give her his life if he could.

Two shirts were thrown on the floor, one pair of pants, and one pair of shorts. Two half naked bodies desperately grinded into each other, craving release from the heat in their cores. Legs intertwined just as fingers did and the two eventually became one. One drawn out moan, one long kiss, one burning desire.

There was something artistic about the way two humans behaved in times of desperation. The way she would whimper and gasp when a particularly sensitive part of her body was touched, and he would see this and use it to his advantage. The way his mouth would open in a silent moan as she rubbed against him, creating a friction they'd never get enough of. Even with underwear on, they behaved wildly, leaving no room for any matter to interfere.

Somewhere in their passion, a door, forgotten to be locked, creaked open to reveal a few rather shocked faces. Not shocked to see their friend with a girl, but shocked to see him with a girl such as Y/n. Especially shocked that a girl like her didn't wear little pink cotton panties, but adorned a black lace thong instead.

The bigger male and the blond turned away, obviously not wanting to get their asses beat for the intrusion. But Patrick stayed for a minute. His eyes traced every inch of her body, and once he had seen enough, a low whistle escaped him.

The two on the bed jumped, and just as quickly as she threw herself down, he had an arm around her and held her close. She stayed pressed against her boyfriend, trying to hide her flushed face and body from the mischievous boy who stood watching her.

"When your done having your fun, why don't ya' let me take her for a ride?" A sickening laugh faded into a room with three emotions only. Arousal, fear, and pure fucking rage. That arousal faded from Patrick when he saw the expression that adorned his friend's face.

"Get the fuck out of here, Hockstetter, or I'll kill you right here." There was a malice in Henry's voice that he'd never heard before. A spark in his eye, a snarl in his lip, and a clenched fist that showed truth in every word he spoke.

If Patrick didn't stop staring at Henry's girl, he would be a dead man and a tortured soul.

So he ducked out of the room and approached the two other members of their gang, shaken and annoyed, completely unwilling to tell the story of the scariest moment of his life.

Henry considered chasing after his friend, showing him how absolutely enraged he felt that his angel felt unsafe. But once he thought back to her, and felt her shivering from his arms, she was his main priority. He pulled her flush against him, not sexually anymore, just possessively. His arms encircled her and she wanted to completely fade into him.

Sobs racked her body. She'd heard horror stories of the boy and his disgusting acts on not only girls, but just others in general. So, when he said he wanted to take her for a ride, terror crept throughout every crevice of her body. Not only did she fear him, but she was absolutely humiliated. Another boy has seen her half naked, not to mention the vulnerable situation she was in.

After a second of silence, she was able to make out a few muffle words against his chest. "Please don't let him take me."

"No one will ever touch you. You're mine, and he knows that now. I'm gonna keep you hidden away from all that shit."

[kykyonthemoon]

Could I have an Xavier x Reader fluff? Like they make him wear bunny ears and Xavier makes them wear wolf ears? I wanna see smth soft and fluffy for my man…If you can’t totally ok! You’re lovely!

Fluffy Trapped

In this game of two, Xavier is definitely not the rabbit.

Thank you for requesting. 🌻 Xavier x Reader Masterlist

Request something?

“Why do you have that funny headband on your head?” The strange boy asked, one hand pointing at the top of Xavier's head.

He raised his hand and touched the two long, soft rabbit ears attached to his head. He was sitting in a corner of the arcade when this kid came from nowhere and began to laugh at what he was wearing.

“It's a bet.” Xavier replied with a sigh.

“A bet?”

“Yeah. I lost a bet with someone in a claw machine game.”

The child kept giggling while covering his mouth, showing absolutely no manners. Then, to his surprise, a little girl of a similar age called in this way.

“Oh no! That girl has found me!” His face became pale in an instant. He pushed something into Xavier's palm with haste and said, "Keep this. You can make your friend wear it if they lose to you at the kitty cards game. That girl over there made me do that too!”

The boy threw his little friend a glance that left it unclear whether he hated or loved her. He then sprinted in her direction, and the two of them walked away while holding hands. Xavier turned to face the object he was holding. It was a hair piece almost identical to his, but instead of pink and white rabbit ears, it was dark gray wolf ears.

“Kitty cards, hmm…” Xavier whispered to himself. His eyes found you in the crowd, happily ordering drinks for both of you. A very dangerous smile appeared on his lips for a moment, then disappeared when you turned your head to find him. He appeared to be an obedient rabbit waiting for his "master". That made you even less suspicious of the trap he had just set for you.

That afternoon, Xavier invited you to play kitty cards.

“The loser will have to wear bunny ears for another twenty-four hours!” You grinned. Claw machine or kitty cards were both your best games.

Xavier let you go first, and as usual, he lost miserably to you in the first round. He claimed to have picked up a few new skills but was only able to win one round. By the third round, he seemed rather sleepy.

Xavier put one arm on the table to support his head. The heavy eyelids slowly closed. You called softly: “Xavier? Xavier?” But he still did not open his eyes. You glanced at the cats on the table. There were only two more cups left and the game would end. But your cards were not that great. You were about to lose to Xavier!

You looked up at the rabbit ears that Xavier had on his head, bobbing slightly with each nod. Anytime, anywhere, he could fall asleep, even while he was playing cards. You reminisced about the days when you were both on missions and he could fall asleep while still upright! Xavier had dozed off for real. The opportunity had come to you.

This was the decisive round. You could not lose to Xavier, because you still wanted to see him wearing those bunny ears for a long time. Those bunny ears affixed to his head was your trophy. You used to cheat while he fell asleep before, and you knew a trick of swapping cats in the cup so your opponent got points deducted. The important thing was to be skillful and quick. To double verify, you attempted to wave a hand in front of Xavier's face. When you saw that he did not react, you lifted up the red cat in the cup that he had received double points on.

"Good kitty…"

You hushed the cat so it did not cry out loud. Then you picked up the green cat next to it and prepared to drop it into the cup. Little did you know that all your actions were being observed by Xavier with a half-open eye. Immediately, he grabbed your wrist, causing both cats to fall.

“Ughhh!”

You screamed because you were startled. Xavier firmly grasped his hand, preventing you from backing away. The corners of his lips curled up into a perfect and cunning line.

“Got you!”

“Xavier!… You…”

You could not deny it, not when the two cats which you had just dropped were leaping around the table and meowing loudly. More than the fact that you were discovered cheating, the reason your face felt heated was because Xavier's hand was holding your wrist.

“How clumsy you are, Miss Hunter.” He smiled, his eyes filled with mischief, making you feel like you were put in danger. A bewildered and sleepy Xavier in an instant became a trap setter. He had been waiting for this opportunity since the beginning, even pretending to be drowsy to catch you red handed. Was he really asleep the other times or did he do it on purpose so you could win?

It was your turn to feel extremely naive. Kitty cards were originally your game, but with Xavier scheming like that, it was intolerable.

“This round doesn't count. Let's play another one!”

"That's fine. But first,” Xavier replied. He took out the pair of wolf ears he had hidden earlier. “Those who cheat ought to face their punishment.”

His voice was so soft, but you were left with shivers. Your arms and legs became weak, your face was burning again. Xavier loosened his grip but did not let go completely. He stood up to move closer to you.

"Please no! Oh! Where did those wolf ears come from anyway?

“Stay still.”

He said while you kept shaking your head, refusing to cooperate. At last, he had to lean down so close that his breath caught your cheek and you could not avoid his gaze anymore. Then he put the wolf ears on your head.

"Good girl."

He patted your head. His index finger gently pressed the tip of your nose and he smiled with satisfaction. You were not sure who was the rabbit and who was the real wolf anymore.

[badasgirlfriend]

Desire | Bada Lee Imagine

pairings: bada lee x fem!reader

genre: nswf??? idk , strangers to them fucking, two hot girls wanting doing body shots

a/n: i will literally throw my phone the second i post this KEEP IN MIND this is my first time writing smth nswf (kinda) SO LEAVE ME ALONE I TRIED MY BEST (and i hate it)

As the song played on, Y/N started to feel herself drift away from reality. The music, the crowd, the lights...everything seemed to melt before her. With a drunken giggle, Y/N's face turned flush.

Standing behind her, Solar grabbed her hips and started to grind on her, moving to the rhythm of the music. Y/N let herself be swept away by the moment. It felt so good. It felt so right.

Gently moving her hips, she let the breeze blow on her legs. With the hair out of the way, her hands moved of their own accord. Touching her skin, tracing the curves of her body. There was a hunger growing inside her. As if the music has awakened something.

Slowly, Y/N gathered her hair up above her head, her free hand beginning to roam over her own body. The feeling of the breeze against her exposed skin was both refreshing and arousing.

Her other hand, holding her hair, allowed her to feel every soft curve and smooth surface of her body as her hips started to move slowly, in time with the music.

She could feel the hem of her dress starting to rise up, but she didn't even bother pulling it back down. She was wearing a white dress that looked wet. It was tight, clinging to her body, and showing off all of her curves and figure.

She knew she looked hot. She knew everyone was staring at her, admiring her body, enjoying the sights.

She liked it.

With each step, Y/N could feel the eyes of a tall woman on her. The stare was constant, and it was intense. Y/N loved it, feeling herself heat up under the gaze.

Y/N had never seen someone quite like her before. The tall woman was absolutely stunning. Her black hair, with the blonde stripes underneath, and the black bralette with the unbuttoned jeans, her underwear noticeable. She was wearing so little, but it was enough to drive Y/N crazy.

One look at her was enough to make Y/N's pulse race, but the tall woman knew exactly what she was doing. Those stares of hers were like a spell, pulling Y/N in deeper and deeper. She wanted to touch her, to feel her. To be with her.

She needed her

"Solar who's that" Y/N said loudly in her ear hoping her friend heard her from the loud music

"Who?"

"That tall girl with blonde streaks" Solar smirked, now knowing exactly who she was talking about. "That's Bada Lee," she replied, "a famous choreographer."

Y/N nodded biting her lip, she looked around the room but the girl was nowhere to be found

"Come on, they're doing body shots," Solar said with a mischievous grin, taking ahold of Y/N's wrist and leading her through the crush of people in the club.

They soon found themselves in the midst of a group of people gathered together nearby, who had encircled a handful of shots glasses.

Y/N was suddenly aware of the weight of someone's gaze resting upon her. When she turned to see the source of the intense stare, her eyes were immediately captured by Bada's striking eyes. Y/N could feel her cheeks warming, but she was too flustered to speak.

Just then, someone nearby asked, "Alright, who's going next?"

Y/N felt a burst of courage and stepped forward, flashing a confident grin at the rest of the group.

"I'll do it," she said in a low, sultry voice, before taking the offered glass from the man's hands

She turned to see the various alcoholic drink options laid out before her, trying to decide which to have.

"I prefer tequila," a silky, seductive voice purred, making her knees feel surprisingly weak.

Y/N quickly turned to see that it was the tall girl she had been keeping her eyes on from the start. She smirked, feeling an unfamiliar fluttering sensation in her chest.

Y/N grabbed ahold of the bottle of tequila, making her way towards the table. As she drew near, she realized that Bada was standing in her way. She was so tall, towering above her in a way that made her knees feel weak.

Y/N's gaze lingered on Bada's striking form for a moment before she tried to move past, but the tall girl didn't move out of the way. The two girls' bodies touched as they brushed past each other, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

Bada was staring hard at Y/N, and she wasn't ashamed at all. She had been admiring the gorgeous girl ever since she first stepped foot in the club, feeling like she was a magnet for her gaze. Bada couldn't help but be drawn in by her beauty, and she felt a strong pull towards the other girl that she couldn't ignore.

The girl had a certain aura about her that seemed to draw everyone's attention. As she walked through the crowded club, it was as if she was the center of the room, with almost every set of eyes trained on her.

But despite the countless number of people staring at her, she seemed to have eyes only for Bada.

"Tequila it is, yes." Y/N said softly, a hint of innocence in her voice as she handed the bottle to bada.

As Bada took the bottle and held it, never breaking eye contact, Y/N put the small glass between her breasts. The movement caught Bada's attention, and she smirked slightly.

She leaned in close to Y/N, her breath tickling y/n's ear as she whispered seductively "Eager, aren't we?"

Y/N heart raced at the intimate moment, but she maintained her composure and simply smiled, her gaze still locked with Bada's.

Bada opened the bottle of tequila and flipped the cap into the air. Everyone had their eyes transfixed on the two girls as they played their little game of tease and flirt. The tension was thick, the air charged with romance and desire. It was as if the two beautiful women were in their own little world, oblivious to the rest of the world watching in fascination.

The loud, thumping beat of "Meddle Abot" by Chase Atlantic echoed through the club, the music's rhythm filling the room. Y/N flinched slightly as the icy cold liquid was poured down her neck, taken by surprise but not complaining. In fact, the unexpected sensation seemed to turn her on ever so slightly, the chill of the liquid sending a shudder of anticipation down her spine.

Bada bit her lip, eyes fixed on her wet cleavage. The shot was full, but not for long.

Taking Y/N's wrist in a firm grip, Bada licked it where her pulse beat beneath the skin, then sprinkled salt lightly over the wet skin.

All the while, she stared directly at her eyes, keeping Y/N's attention firmly on her. The intensity of the moment was almost too much for the other girl to bear, her pulse racing and her body tingling.

The intensity of the moment was almost too much for Y/N to bear, her pulse racing and her body tingling with anticipation. Her panties were getting wet as the tension between the two women continued to build. Every look, touch, or gesture sent a jolt of electricity shooting through her body, making her heart pound harder and harder with each passing second.

The tall girl grinned as Y/N's pulse rose, her tongue licking away the salt from Y/N's wrist. She then moved to her neck but paused there, giving Y/N goosebumps as her warm breath swept over her skin. The feeling sent a surge of desire coursing through her veins, and her breath hitched with anticipation of what came next.

Y/N almost moaned as the choreographer's tongue touched her skin, her body trembling with desire. There was nothing subtle about it as Bada licked her way down her neck, licking away at the liquor she had poured just moments before. With every touch of her tongue, Y/N felt her body tingle with desire. It was an intoxicating feeling, sending her mind spinning as she tried to hold back the sounds of pleasure that were rising in her throat.

Bada slowly took the shot of tequila, her head tossing back as the strong liquor filled her throat.

"Here" Y/N's voice came out raspy, the feeling of anticipation making her breathless. With the lime clenched firmly in her fingers, she held it out to Bada who leaned in, her lips touching Y/N's fingers. She sucked the lime from her fingers with a playful smile, seeming to enjoy the girl's reactions to her actions.

Y/N shook her head, amused as she got off the table and gave bada a mischievous grin. Then she moved towards her friend Solar, who was staring at her moutb agape

"Girl, that--what?! That was so hot!" Solar screamed with excitement, jumping up and down.

"Tell me about it! I could barely walk, my knees were so weak." Y/N agreed, matching Solar's energy with her own enthusiasm.

"She's coming!" Y/N almost choked at Solar's words, her eyes widening in surprise.

"What--where are you going?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brows as she spotted Solar leaving suddenly.

Her friend shot Y/N a wink as she left and yelled, "You'll thank me later!"

"Hey gorgeous" came the voice from behind her, causing Y/N to whip around. She instantly recognized the voice as the one from earlier

"Hey"

Y/N smirked as she looked at Bada, still giddy from the events earlier. She had to suppress a small giggle as the memories of earlier came flooding back into her mind.

Bada still looked as striking and sensual as she did before, her eyes meeting Y/N's with a certain playfulness and sparkle. She took a slight step forward, but stopped just short of touching the girl in front of her, Bada's hand hovering in front of her, as if tempting Y/N to draw her close.

The younger girl noticed Bada's hand and caught it, immediately drawing the woman close. "Let's dance," she said, her words dripping with seductiveness as she stared into Bada's eyes.

Bada gave a sly smile, her body pressing up against Y/N's as she allowed herself to be pulled in.

As they danced, the two girls moved their bodies in perfect rhythm, as if they were two parts of one whole. Y/n gently wrapped one arm around Bada's neck, bringing her closer, and with the other, she placed her hand on Bada's waist.

As soon as Bada's hands reached for Y/N's waist, she pulled her even closer. And when Bada's lips grazed her neck, drawing gentle circles on the sensitive skin, Y/N's breath caught in her throat.

"What's your name?" Bada whispered, brushing her lips along y/n's collarbone.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Y/N."

Bada kissed her throat again, this time slightly more passionately than before. As Y/N felt the woman's lips on her skin, her body shivered with desire.

The shorter girl moved her lips close to Bada's ear. She softly chuckled, her sweet laugh making Bada groan "Wanna get out of here-"

"Hey, you two--BADA!!"

Y/N was pulled away by the voice, and Bada let out a few curses. She placed her head on girl's shoulder, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"What the fuck do you want, Mark?" Bada said, her jaw clenching as she turned her head to face the rude interruption. Her hands remained firmly on Y/N's waist, her grip practically tightening with every word.

Y/N rolled her eyes, she was so close

"Come on, do that thing you were doing back then," Mark said, pulling Bada to the previous spot, not waiting for her response.

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, now left alone. She couldn't believe how quickly the mood had shifted, going from so intimate to so...nothing.

She heard the crowd cheer, something inside her pushing her towards the noise. As she moved through the crowd, she spotted bada holding the bottle they had used before. Bada was looking around frantically, as if searching for someone, and Y/N couldn't help but wonder if that someone was her.

As Bada saw Y/N, a grin spread across her face, and she shook the bottle towards her as if to say "come on." It was an undeniable invitation, and with a smile on her lips, dhe went straight past the other people, heading towards Bada.

"Are you ticklish?" she asked, grabbing the bottle and watching as bada smirked.

"Let's find out," Bada replied, sitting on the table and leaning down slightly in front of Y/N. She placed her hands behind her back on the table, and Y/N wasted no time grabbing the salt and lime.

She parted Bada's legs, standing between them. Bada watched her closely, her eyes filled with lust.

Y/n teased her by gently guiding the lime into Bada's mouth then leaning down and licking her abs. Bada let out a sharp breath as Y/N's tongue touched her stomach, her body shivering with desire.

The girl poured salt over the part where she had licked Bada,. Taking the bottle of tequila, she leaned close to Bada's bellybutton and poured in the alcohol.

Y/N tilted her head, looking up at her with baited breath. When she saw Bada biting her top lip, the girl nearly lost it right there

She's so hot

Y/N's tongue danced over badas skin, her touch both teasing and sensual. The taste of the salt spread across her tongue and she took in the sourness, relishing in the way it heightened her desire. Her tongue slowly gliding to the edge of badas bralette, the tension in the air rising with each touch. Bada couldn't help but grip onto Y/N's wrist, her eyes never leaving Y/N's

Y/N's lips turned into a seductive smile as she pressed her lips against her bellybutton and took a slurped the tequila.

Bada could feel herself going crazy as she watched Y/N, her wild and sexy nature driving her mad. She was desperate to get her alone in a room so she could complete what they started earlier. She imagined them together in a dark room, finally satisfying their mutual desires. The fantasy was becoming unbearable, and she had to find a way to make it a reality.

Y/N's face slowly moved towards Bada's. Her lips parted and she leaned in, tasting the lime in Bada's mouth. Their lips touched but neither of them moved. Y/N didn't want to stop. She softly bit into Bada's lips, tugging at her lips and softly biting the skin. All Bada could do was moan in pleasure

Y/N could hear the cheers of the crowd, many of them coming from boys. They seemed particularly interested in the sight of two girls being lustful with each other. Y/N rolled her eyes, at that

Men....

Y/N couldn't hold back any longer. She grabbed Bada's belt hoops and forcefully pulled her along, desperate to have her alone. Bada was amazed she eagerly followed her like a lost puppy

As they were walking outside to Y/N's car, she swung her arm around Y/N's shoulder and pressed their bodies together. Bada leaned in and kissed the corner of Y/N's lips, causing her to let out a soft whine of pleasure.

She wanted more, and she wanted it now.

Y/N's back hit the car with force, but she didn't mind. She liked it.

Bada's hands gently moved Y/N's hair out of her face "You're so perfect"

With that she pulled her in for a rough kiss. Their mouths collided in a forceful and passionate manner. Y/N felt both pain and pleasure from the sheer intensity of the kiss, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel Bada's teeth digging into her lips, her tongue exploring the inside of her mouth.

She wrapped her arms around Bada's neck, pulling her close and embracing her tightly. Bada's hands were free to explore and she took full advantage of that. She gently squeezed Y/N's butt, enjoying the soft and subtle resistance.

After pulling away from the intense and passionate kiss, both Y/N and Bada were panting, their breath coming in short and heavy gasps.

Y/N chuckled, having noticed the blood on Bada's lips. She leaned in again, licking the blood from her lips. "Let's get inside the car, now,"

[unicyclehippo]

Bubbles

[for @possibilistfanfiction started out as smth soft n goofy for u, then tilted toward sad :/ sorry. also i guess this is canon divergence where ava doesn't go through the portal but also she's fine? cannot emphasise enough that im not Thinking just vibe w me]

//

there's a bath in jillian's safe house, a really good one. it's deep and fancy, in the way that really expensive things are where they're sort of deceptively simple—it doesn't have a billion dials, or jets, it's just a comfortably large tub made of some heavy, smooth material that your fingertips glide over when you touch it.

you're dying to fill it to the brim with burning hot water and just. soak. for one hour, maybe twenty. you heard somewhere that a hot bath is good for aches and pains and that sounds like exactly what you need. you hurt now, everywhere. your body, your skin, your heart.

'ava?'

beatrice is hovering in the doorway. she looks totally serene but that's a fucking lie and you know it is because there's no way she can be calm, be serene, because you fought and killed an angel (big question mark there) and saw and rescued god (two big question marks) and you kissed her (you kissed her and she kissed you back) and no one was supposed to die but michael isn't here in this big house that his mum bought so that she could lock herself away in it and rip open time and space and save him and she let you back into her house even though you let him die and beatrice is standing in the doorway of the bathroom and there's two strands of hair knocked loose from her bun and the sight of it saves you, a little bit. you're going to lose your mind thinking about angels and gods and the halo in your spine and the way your whole nervous system feels like a livewire right now, stinging you raw from the inside out, but beatrice is here and you want to touch her hair. tuck the strands behind her ear. maybe, if you're lucky, she'll let you linger. twist one around your finger so you can feel the silken slide of it.

'yeah,' you croak, 'hi.'

beatrice smiles. her eyes roam over your face. she can't look away and you knew that she loved you before you kissed her, before you left her, because everything she wouldn't let her hands do, she did with her eyes instead. beatrice wants to touch you now—you want that too, of course, but you don't know how yet and you're hurting—so she stares.

'i can run a bath,' she offers. 'i can do that for you.'

you'll do anything for her. you'll die for her. you'll strip down out of your bloody clothes so that she can look but not touch. you'll let her run a bath for you.

'please.'

beatrice steps into the bathroom. it's about as big as the whole apartment had been, back in your little mountain town, but it doesn't feel like it. there's nothing in the world but you and beatrice and the four paces that separate you; the world is closing in around you and your shoulders are shaking from holding the collapse at bay. atlas, you think, was lucky. he was all alone. but there's a girl in front of you who wants to take some of the burden off your shoulders and you want to let her, except the burden is you and you don't know how to hand it off gracefully, you don't know how to divide the weight evenly, you don' t know how to split the world into orange slices and hand her just the northern hemisphere, or just your fear and trust. you don't want to hurt her but it's crushing you.

the taps open. water spills from the spigots, steam curling up toward the ceiling. she pours something into the water—lavender? its dusty, dusky in your nose, on your tongue. white froth builds in the base of the tub and grows.

beatrice is pouring you a bubble bath. you're going to cry, definitely; it's not a matter of if but when.

you sit on the edge of the tub and start to peel off your armour. it takes time to figure out how; teeth gritted, fingers curling stiff and unhelpful into your palms, you have to ask for her help.

'does it hurt?'

'no,' you lie.

beatrice stares at you hard but pretends to believe you, which is nice of her. she opens you up, peels your armour away like the skin of an orange. maybe there's something citrus in the bubbles she poured out, maybe you're hungry, maybe you're tripping fantastic on jillian's pain medication and thinking way too much about the gold light of adriel's church and how kissing beatrice had stung, just a little.

'stand up,' she says instead, and helps with your pants too. she's touching you, so she's looking away, eyes averted. you wonder what it would feel like if she let herself look and touch, both at the same time, and then quickly stop when it makes your head spin more than it already is. 'careful getting into the tub.'

her hands are on your elbows. they always seemed like weird body parts to you, useful only for bending your arms, helping you reach out with your hands. now, when she is touching you there, you think they might be the best thing god (huge question mark) ever invented. you tuck the feeling away for later, for some fun alone time, and refocus on the way her fingers tremble and her hair isn't perfect.

'i'm okay,' you tell her, because she hasn't looked at you, and you think she might not realise—the divinium is gone, the shrapnel tugged out of your chest and belly and legs, even the little bit by your wrist. then, you step into the tub and the water is hot and you feel like it's searing away all your fear-sweat and blood and as you start to half-fall, half-sink down into it, you say, 'will you stay?' because you got exploded a little and if there's ever a time to capitalise on that, it's now.

beatrice keeps her eyes on the ceiling as she lowers you down into the water. it sloshes over the side, splashes a line at beatrice's thigh where she's leaning against the side of the tub to help you.

'you don't have to. you don't have to do anything. you don't.'

'i'll stay,' beatrice says, and now that you're covered by the water and bubbles, she looks at you. looks at your lips and lifts her hand to touch your cheek, thumb at the corner of your mouth.

you want to kiss her again. you want to fall asleep. you want to sit in this bath and cry and hold her hand. you think, wildly, with a little luck you will get to do all of those things and more.

'do you want to get in here with me?' you ask, because if you believe in anything in this world it is pushing your luck. pulling your knees up to your chest. the water is deep enough that they only barely break the surface.

beatrice smiles. 'yes.'

'holy shit.'

'but i won't.'

'totally fair.'

'but...' she strokes the corner of your mouth, and you swear you feel the water heat up another degree around you. 'i want. i want to stay.'

[articdelilah]

Hello there (●’◡’●)ﾉ may I request a teen(?)! Belle headcanons. The ikemen princes see her as a little sister figure. Maybe she's 14 to 17. It'll be funny to see her act bratty and chaotic to them once she gets comfortable but she does know when to get serious. Loves fun, food, and maybe she finds smth she wants to do while being there. Maybe she wants to be like one of the princes and handle sword, or maybe a doctor. It could be anything tbh, just want to see little sister fluff.

✮ A Little Trouble ✮

Platonic! Ikemen Princes x Teen! Reader

Hi!! Thank you sm for requesting!! I love the idea and I’m sorry if I went a little off the topic of the request💞 I would have finished this yesterday but tumblr deleted my work :,(

I did take on a little more calm approach to the stories so please feel free to request again for anything more specific!

Foreign affairs faction

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Clavis can’t help but burst out laughing when he first saw the girl; giggling about “Is there no pure hearted adults left in Rhodolite?

His interest was peaked however at Sariel’s choice of Belle. This meant that Clavis became Belle’s unofficial guide for the first weeks of her stay.

It wasn’t very long until Belle realised how much Clavis loved to prank his brothers and now her (his newest victim). He loved how the girl could get so bratty and chaotic at times, she was simply so entertaining!

Belle endured the whole list of Clavis’ pranks. Potholes, jumpscares, eating cupcakes with horseradish in them (twice) and the list goes on.

It wasn’t until one day that Belle simply had enough. She screamed at Clavis to leave her alone before slamming the door of her bedroom in his face. It was only a couple seconds later that Clavis’ grin turned to a frown, slowly walking away from the girl’s room.

A couple of days went by without Belle seeing Clavis. It was strangely quiet. No pranks, no laughing and definitely no jumpscares. She started to miss the purple haired man’s light hearted pranks and contagious laughter.

Obviously Clavis hadn’t disappeared, he had to make sure that Belle was safe and comfortable so he watched from afar.

Shreds of colourful paper, markers and washitape sprawled all over the Belle’s bedroom floor. She laid on fluffy cotton rug, kicking her feet in the air as she doodled a drawing of a very familiar purple haired man in the decorated page. It wasn’t long before Belle caught a whiff of vanilla surrounding her and the sound of the door closing caught her attention. She looked up to see Clavis carrying a plate of heart shaped cookies, placing them on the ground next to Belle before plopping to lay down next to her. He started to rip pieces of coloured paper too, sprinkling glitter on every surface of that once white page. Clavis’ paper soon filled with messy handwriting, clumsy drawings and too much glitter and stickers to count. The girl couldn’t help but laugh “I didn’t know you knew other languages!”. Clavis simply chuckled “Clavese is the mosy rare language in the world! Only two people understand it. You can be the third.” Clavis didn’t have to finish his words as the girl’s eyes glistened with excitement and her head nodded quickly.

Chevalier was the most displeased. As you can imagine.

Chevalier had shown no interest in the new Belle. Since she was a teenager, Chevalier saw her as incapable. Going out of his way to ignore her, but Belle wasn’t giving up that easily . She followed Chevalier sometimes, or simply watched as he finished his work for the day.

The new Belle always remembered to ask about his day, if he remembered to eat and even bought cookies that Yves helped her to make for him. If he ‘forgot’ to eat, he would get an earful of why eating was important (as if he was a mere child who didn’t understand the importance of eating).

Chevalier admired the new Belle’s courage to scold the Brutal Beast over things so minor and soon he felt a weakness sprouting in his icy heart. His weakness being her.

He enjoyed how her voice filled the usually cold air of the faction’s office, her giggles and deep analysis over very minor things. She was the only one Chevalier allowed to ramble to him if she so desired.

He trusted her to invite her to his own private library, watching her curious eyes linger on the golden lettering of each book. Books about politics, romance, plays, novellas, poems and much more littered the shelves of the room. This was part of Chevalier’s little world that he was willing to share with Belle.

However, Chevalier didn’t allow Belle to slack at her new job. In fact, he made sure she did all of Sariel’s homework and read the books assigned to her. Sometimes coming into her room with an icy glare which told Belle all she needed to know.

The bright moon was covered by grey fluffy clouds, rays of its light peaking through the ashy curtain. The pink bedroom was dark, only the light of the brightest star shining through to illuminate its light on the yellowed pages of Chevalier’s book. Belle sat on the floor under the window. Earlier the same day, she had expressed her desire to want to understand Chevalier better; wanting to see the world through his eyes. She had asked the man to train her with a sword but she only got a glare in response. Therefore she had taken the liberty to take steal a book of his from his private library. It wasn’t anything she would normally read but it was the first book she grabbed. Her eyes were glued to the page, reading each word intently with furrowed brows. “Draconian? What does that even mean?” She muttered angrily; so focused on the stolen book that she didn’t realised her door was open revealed a tall blonde man standing in its frame. It was only when she heard a noise that sounded oddly like a snort that she looked at the doorway. Her eyes widened but before she could muster an excuse, Chevalier beat her to it and spoke with a small smile-

“Try reading a book written for your age.”

Luke made sure she was protected. I mean, you can’t blame him. A young girl having to live in a dangerous palace? THE SAME YOUNG GIRL THAT IS BELLE AS WELL?? He knew he had to do everything possible to make sure she was safe.

Imagine his happiness when the new Belle confessed her love for food and honey! That was the moment that really brought the two together.

Belle found the way Luke attracted animals as fascinating, trying to bring him to the woods to lure any cute animals or just have a look at them up close.

Due to this, Belle had taken a hobby of drawing the animals she saw around Luke and dreamed of becoming a veterinarian. She knew she had to work hard if she wanted to achieve her goal.

Luke tried his hardest to support Belle with her studies assigned by Sariel. He went as far as trying to study with her but ultimately failing and convincing her to take a nap outside instead.

When she told Luke about how she wanted to learn more about animals, he was very delighted. Due to his talent of attracting them, Belle learnt a lot about all kinds of forest animals.

It was a calm summer afternoon. Bees buzzed from one blooming rose to another, collecting pollen for their hives. As the bees were busy, Luke and Belle were doing quite the opposite. The two laid side by side under a tall oak tree, resting in the shade as if Belle wasn’t supposed to be in one of Sariel’s lessons right now. The golden beams of sunlight peered through the leaves, the sun directly on Belle’s cheek leaving a warm kiss on her skin. They weren’t the only ones resting under this tree however as earlier that day a dog had followed Luke to the palace. The big dog had chosen to spread its shaggy body and large paws on Belle’s lap, making her unable to get up even if she wanted too. “I had this weird dream where I was a bear and you were a bear too” the [H/C] girl began “We were in a cave and I was really cold. But you came and hugged me! I felt much better” she smiled at the sweet dream and Luke couldn’t help return the smile. It was times like these were life felt the way it should; Simple.

Nokto tried to stay away, mostly because of his reputation. He was fine with Belle and engaged in quick chit chat with her but nothing too long.

That was until he was strolling through the Rhodolite gardens when he heard soft crying. He simply couldn’t ignore the sound which led him to find Belle crying on a bench on the far right of the palace.

The 7th Prince sat on the bench with Belle, saying with his usual grin for her stop crying and smile. Belle simply looked up at the man before turning her head away, mumbling that he wouldn’t understand.

After a while of silence, Nokto asked more sincerely. “What’s going on?”. That was when the new Belle started to explain how, while she was happy to be Belle, she had to leave all her friends and family behind. She missed them and fortunately Nokto knew something about missing family.

“They’ll be there when you come back, no need to cry now”.

That day forwards, they started to talk more before kind of became inseparable. Just like twins, communicating by pulling silly faces across the round table or bickering over the best flavour of pie.

Nokto liked Belle’s chaotic personality, he enjoyed picking small fights and such. One of their favourite activities being chasing one another. Loud laughter filling the halls as Belle fell victim to Nokto’s tickling.

It was only when Nokto realised how close they became when he started to laugh. Belle had started to pick up on some of his habits like calling Chevalier ‘King Highness’ and trying to outfox Sariel (unfortunately that didn’t work). He was happy because she was happy.

However sometimes there were moments where no laughter was heard, no smiles shared and no trance of joy between the two.

Quiet steps filled the air of the palace, the sneaky fox trying to escape the place before a small voice stopped him in his tracks. “Nokto!” The voice called out. Nokto turned slowly to the voice, the red moon’s light casting his face in its bloody glow. A moment of silence passed before the cream coloured marble echoed loud clicking from Belle’s hard shoes which she had put on just a minute prior. When she reached the white haired man, the young girl wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. The Prince’s whole body tensed before relaxing and hugging the girl back. No words were needed to make them both understand. She simply had a nightmare, he simply had to stay.

Not proofread and I’m thinking of making a masterlist. Anyways,I hope you enjoyed!! Goodbye my Doves 🕊️

If you like my work, feel free to requests!

[verylongsillystring]

i need to rant abt this bc i’m actually so uncomfortable . so this girl a year below me (who i had no idea even existed until i heard this) told my friend who is also a year below me but is taking my grade classes bc she’s too smart that i apparently “pull my skirt up really high when i’m around boys” ??? what ??? like girl first of all who r u … second of all i could care less what boys with cottage cheese under their armpits and on their wangs that don’t wear deodorant and smell like body odor think about my barely existing butt or me in general … idgaf !!! i wear my skirt the way i do (the way i wear my skirt it’s like … barely above my knees) because i feel comfortable that way ? and if anything i wear it so specifically because i want other girls to think i look pretty . and usually it works because i get compliments from girls but hearing that some rando white girl that i didn’t even knew existed had smth to say about me and assumed that i was a ho makes me so so uncomfortable because my hobbies consist of scripting so i can get the heck out of this reality and watching slushynoobz and playing dress to impress … and writing poetry about every little thing that happens in my life and crying over the most minuscule moments like i cried watching tangled today because she finally reunited with her parents i get socially uncomfortable really easy too i don’t understand where this narrative that i’m a #sweet little unforgettable thing came from ??? mind ur business !!! i’m as pure as the driven snow and i intend to stay that way !!!!!!! also i get excited when five sweet korean boys pop up on my feed like who the heck are you referring to 😭 it’s these exact scenarios that make me so unhappy with other people because everybody’s always perceiving me and i hate feeling perceived it is the most disgusting, skin crawling feeling ever . even my friends told me that when they first met me they thought i was mean until they got to know me just judging off of appearances … it’s why i never judge anybody because what’s the point in making fun of somebody that you don’t know ? what if they like the same things as you ? what if they’re really sweet or really shy like humans are so complex that watering it down to whatever you think is what makes up a certain person is so close minded . the only person that knows you the best is YOU .

[sherlokiness]

I think your Sansa chicken metaphor as foreshadowing for jonsa marriage is stronger than the blue flower sweetness meaning jonerys marriage. /s

Hi, anon! Why do I feel like you're making fun of me? I am serious about Sansa being a chicken!!! I'm sure you're familar about the trope in stories where the hero gets a reward after saving the day.

The hero will slay the dragon and get a princess' hand in marriage as a reward. Is it crazy to expect this? I don't think so. The series is ultimately a song. All the stories can't be lies. There are true knights and heroes.

The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal.

In the first book of the series, Ghost faces off against a mongrel bitch bigger than him and will successfully defend his prize. What's the prize? Sansa/Winterfell.

"Hungry again?" he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs

The chicken is a honeyed chicken. It's sweet. *insert quotes of Sansa involving honey and being honey sweet* I'll make smth longer than this later. I think.

Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth.

"Do you blame me, my lord? Such a prize is not easily won. A nubile girl, I hear, and not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children."

"She is old enough to be Lady of Winterfell once her brother is dead. Claim her maidenhood and you will be one step closer to claiming the north. Get her with child, and the prize is all but won. Do I need to remind you that a marriage that has not been consummated can be set aside?"

Who will win the prize that is Sansa Stark? Is this sexist? Even Jon says Arya is a prize.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it.

Jon's hunger for Winterfell gets mingled with Ghost's hunger. Since Ghost gets to successfully eat the honeyed chicken, I'm gonna assume Jon's hunger will be satisfied.

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre's. He had a weirwood's eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they'd found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

Indeed, Jon forgot about the WF hunger because of the appearance of Ghost and how he's different.

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa."

Winterfell belongs to Sansa.

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together.

And Sansa belongs with Ghost.

[feuqueerfire]

The Worst of Evil Live Blogging

Finished A Shop for Killers and was supposed to start My Stand-In so that I can be caught up for ep 10 but I have a Very Important Thing next week and idk I feel like My Stand-In might take up too much brain space and I also wanna savour it and spend time on it so... I'm starting this instead even though it's not like short or not intense lmfao. Good luck to me

I don't know much about this except 1) Wi Hajoon (he was literally the reason I started actually getting into dramas after Squid Game because usually I'd just watch a show every 6-12 months and not watch anything until the next show a year later lol but I watched a bunch of things for him and now here I am), 2) police drama? they're cops I think, 3) one of them has a wife, and 4) I saw an author who wrote a couple fanfics of them on AO3 but idk if it's like a bromance or if it's like just a ship the writer liked.

I'm excited to Wi Hajoon again after a long while, I haven't watched anything of his since Squid Game, all of it was stuff before Squid Game because I started watching it around the time SQ was released. I'm also curious about his current noona romance Midnight Romance in Hagwon but I'll give this one a try first.

I keep debating between this and My Stand-In because it feels like I'm kinda in the mood for something dark or heavy but I might also be in the mood for BL/romance/relationship stuff, so idk. we'll see how this one goes.

Ep 1 (June 21)

bloody fight to start with. the butcher knives make it more visceral, though not as intriguing as the Shop For Killers beginning violence

2 years ago, 1994

ah, the wife is an elite officer and so her brother is begging the husband because he's a "lowly detective" or smth

Wi Hajoon is a DJ? Girl I thought he was a cop. maybe he's undercover? anyway, this outfit reminds me of the serial killer fucker he played in Midnight

Wi Hajoon: Gicheul

oh, Gichul is actually being recruited by... some shady guy? he's the opposite of a cop lol

1 year later, 1995

ohh Gicheul is treated like shit and feels slighted so is making plans to wipe out the current top guys + their thugs at this hotel in the middle of the woods and just taking over Gangnam?

is this cool? I guess I'm supposed to think this sneak attack and planning to overthrow is cool? they mostly seem like posers other than the knife guy

oof, stupid dude Taeho

so they've killed the secondary boss guy who's their boss

Busan

Ah, okay, I was wondering how killing these people was just give them Gangnam, esp cuz they also worked for somebody but I guess Gicheul wants Gangnam from the big boss

So that's how the cop and Gicheul end up meeting. The detective is gonna infiltrate the gang to try to find who is selling meth to the Japanese gangs. also, when Gicheul was securing the hotel, he gave the guy in the car a little baggie with white stuff... I'm guessing that's what they're looking for?

Ah, his father is a drug user, that's why all that tension

damn, this fucker explicitly says he nor anybody higher-up would give a promotion to a drug addict's son

Gicheul's group (?) is known Gangnam Union and the 4 guys knew each other since high school (thus the hyung/donsaeng close relationship) and there are 3 of them now that Taeho's dead but the knife guy joined ig so it's 4 again. they appear like a social club but they've taken over nearly every club in Gangnam

fake identity: Taeho's non-existent cousin named Seungho

ooh, he wants to meet Gicheul his own way. If I was pretending to be Seungho but wanted to make sure I get close to Gicheul without raising suspicion... maybe I'd first start off antagonistic actually? Like oh you fuckers killed Taeho, how dare you, etc. etc. or make it seem like I was planning on doing something for revenge. because then they'd think I actually knew Taeho + am who I say I am + wouldn't be obvious that I'm clearly trying to get close to Gicheul

they don't translate the ssibals that Seungho (I can't remember his real name rip) keeps dropping every sentence smh

okay, Seungho went in a slightly similar route to me in that he made a scene and went in antagonistically but his plan was obviously more fleshed out and more fun/cool. I love a first meeting like this, with secrets and planning. The watch was a nice touch, is it a similar watch to which Taeho stole from that Sergeant Jang guy or what?

Fave scene: I love love love a first meeting or the initial scenes in a story where one party has secrets and the other party doesn't know. I'll also be very excited to see how Gicheul finds out Seungho's real identity and how he reacts.

I didn't know this was the synopsis of this show lmfao I feel like I didn't know anything for at the beginning for both this show and A Shop for Killers even though the things were in the synopsis lol it's fun this way though. I like an undercover story

Yo, I'm irritated, I thought the synopsis would probably have stuff just from this ep but from skimming it, I found out Seungho's wife is also gonna be undercover for this operation, wish I had found that out on my own.

Ep 2 (June 21)

okay, the father was also told by the cops Seungho's backstory and he's playing along

this was interesting because the guy literally told most of the other gangsters to not fight, it'll be like 1 v 7, not 1 v 30 lol so it makes why they're just standing around

okay but Taeho's killer is just the Sergeant Jang who they also killed, right? like Gicheul knifed that man

oh? one of Gicheul's friends (Heesung) who neither him nor the other old friend take seriously wants to team up with one of the guys they slashed back then (I'm guessing) to take down Gicheul? is this the thing that will have Gicheul and Seungho on the same side? i feel like that's too soon for Gicheul to fall from grace. or is this like... a trick?

Gicheul notices something about Heesung

not Heesung saying they're my friends and brothers so don't let anything bad happen and don't hurt them to much?? girl, what do you think is gonna happen exactly?

ohhh so it was indeed a trap

what must it feel like for the cop dude who's outside the building lmfao must feel like a trap for Seungho but indeed it's for the other guys who filed in. mans being like fuckkk do i call 112 or nah

oh brutal fucking torture wtf girl anyway if I was Seungho I'd be scared af of getting found out (maybe that's also why they're putting on a show of what happens when you betray Gicheul)

damn, why was the big boss looking at all those weapons? anyway, Gicheul isn't gonna send him money anymore apparently

but that's angering the boss and he wants Gicheul dead but the Japan guy the boss works with really likes Gicheul

right, okay, Seungho wasn't supposed to know that Srgt Jang was dead, so Gicheul finally tells him after kinda testing him + opening the place for Taeho

heh Seungho now being the maknae of the gang. i love the bureaucracy or mundaneness of gangster life, like some jokes about jobs and money in A Shop for Killers too

the cop also keeps patrolling and looking out for Seungho ig

Yongdae's so cute, our other maknae

a love triangle?

scary af too the gang know she's a cop and are like... you were meeting a cop. whelp

he's saying that his father is held at the police station for drugs... can they somehow check that Taeho's uncle is indeed there or whatever?

matching necklaces and first loves good god

If they were brave, we'd get a proper triangle lmfao bring Gicheul as a third into the marriage! but also i'm thinking, is Gicheul gonna die or be in prison or something by the end?

Also, I've heard Ji Chang Wook's name often but haven't watched anything he's in. He's doing really well as Junmo/Seungho so far. omg some people on the r/kdrama said the FL often dies in similar kdramas, esp with 2 main male leads and... no. she can't. This reminded me of The Devil Judge and Jinyoung's character's love interest dying and simply, no. if they kill the woman I'll be annoyed

Ep 3 (June 21)

oh Euijung bought the couple necklace for Gicheul, damn

I think Euijung started wearing it again since she just brought it home again recently but Gicheul always wears it still ig

what happened, Gicheul's parent was arrested or what?

omg okay Gicheul's asking his contact in the cops about Kwan Seungho's father's criminal record (to check that he's in jail from drugs or whatever Seungho said) + also checking for Euijung's cop husband

they faked Seungho's father's records so they must be able to give a photo of a different man for Euijung's husband

okay whew, can't blow cover in ep 3

they both call her noona ahhh

did the cops send in the thugs to Gicheol and have Seungho save him or whatever? but um what if some of these people die?

lol they all just left at once, a gunshot wasn't even fired, how choreographed, how suspicious imo

damn, Gicheol heard Seungho's "I'm Gicheul" to "trick" the people and now trusts him fully

oh, so they were literally cops, not even hired thugs omg and they're not being told that Gicheol had a literal gun (and they don't know that Seungho/Junmo is one of them because he's from a random village/town station, not Seoul ig)

Junmo-Seungho getting pissed as Gicheol talks about Euijung and also insults her husband lmfao

oof, Seungho managed to get away with not going to see Euijung's mother at the hospital with Gicheol bc she would def just be like oh, my police son-in-law Junmo, hello

damn, so the Japan guy also wants Gicheol gone? girl

lol Gicheol tryna get in Euijung's mother's good graces

oh wait, he wasn't the Japan guy that loves Gicheol. The Kanemoto guy who loves Gicheol making money for him killed the other guy ig. idk what's happening there lol

oh, that was Song Donghyuk. and Kanemoto or whoever is who Gicheol calls Father/Abeoji

There are cameras here but do they work when the electricity's out?

lmfaooo Gicheol used Euijung's birthday as the passcode for the most important door. Seungho mad as hell in the middle of his investigation

so that kid got Gangnam Crystal from one of the stores that the Gangnam Union runs right? hm, seems like he was selling something else before but now is selling this?

omg not the cops pretending to be thugs dropping a flashlight that day and now Gicheol and the top people know...

okay, yeah, the important Gangnam Union quartet + Seungho gathered to take down the other druglord guy

Gicheol quite scary as he's yelling at Seungho to kill the man to establish trust omg

Ep 4 (June 21)

I was supposed to have watched 3 eps the whole day, not 3 episodes before 3 pm and onto the 4th... I have things to do bruh. I should pause in the middle of the ep instead of waiting for the end bc they end on cliffhangers

so he couldn't kill the guy this time

i don't think i liked that transition into the title card lol

Heesung really doesn't trust Seungho and for good reason. i wonder at which point Gicheol will find out for certain and whether he'll tell everybody or how he'll react. i guess by the time the opening credit happens, he still doesn't know because Euijung's with him while Seungho's at the other side? or something

okay at least the other cop said they're not asking Junmo's wife for help, they're asking the talented and capable Inspector Euijung because agh it's so annoying somehow that Junmo gets to infiltrate the gang and show off his fighting skills and such while Euijung is supposed to like... flirt with Gicheol to get close to him. in a different show where this is the premise it'd be different but it feels unfair somehow that the men get to do cool and dangerous things while she's like a trophy they want to possess and there's anger and jealousy over her like agh

she's pretending she's had a divorce. fewer questions about her husband + Gicheol's gonna think he has a chance

okay I'll try to not be mad about how they're inserting her and how i think it's unfair and instead focus on the interesting and emotionally-charged dynamics between the 3 of them

interesting how Gicheol's the one in the dark while a literal police couple are the only other 2 people in the car

Won't Gicheol notice how Seungho keeps avoiding meeting Euijung's family or people who should know him?

but damn sucks that Junmo can't appear at his mother-in-law's funeral + Euijung's gonna have to field questions from her family about where tf her husband is

awwww the scene where Seungho peeks in and she sees and her lips start trembling and eyes watering but obviously they can't interact or comfort each other is so sad

omg this child calling Seungho 이모부, meaning maternal aunt's husband (not even just like oh regular old uncle who may not be related to me) in front of Gicheol but the other cop guy (the one whose working with them + is keeping an eye on everybody) whose photo is being used as Euijung's husband also showed up right then, whew

this fucking quartet lmfaoooooooo first we have Euijung, everybody knows her real identity and occupation. Then we have Gicheol, the guy who has been obsessed with Euijung since high school and still loves and is clearly aiming to date her. Witnessing all this is Junmo as Gicheol, Euijung's real husband but pretending to be just a friend who only kind of knows her and is Gicheol's minion but he's seething in jealousy and anger at all their interactions. Finally joins the cop who's in on the plan + is mascarading as Euijung's husband Junmo loll he can show some of the resentment the real Junmo feels but has to masquerade as a loser husband or rather ex-husband because they're pretend divorced as well

funny dynamic but also we've got a dick-measuring contest now while Euijung is mostly passive like alright

omg this is so sad, Junmo not being able to say goodbye to his MIL and her being pretty much the only person from Euijung's family who is actually good to him + also said she likes him more than her actual 2 sons that's crazy. reminds me a bit of 18 Again because we don't see MIL-son-in-law dynamics much but that one really gutted me

ah, okay, Gicheol's mother killed his father after the fucker came to find them after they ran away from his abusive ass. that's why she was both bloody and in cuffs in the flashback

hah. Gicheol wants Seungho's help to win over Euijung

I don't fully get everything and what gangs etc but ig another 2 gangs wanna pair up to take down Gicheol

oh and they're tryna recruit people from Gicheol's gang Gangnam Union or whatever

who is that face with the towel that they showed... i'm so fucking bad at facial recognition bruh. was it one of the top 3 people? honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's the knife guy because he seemed dissatisfied when speaking to Seungho

is the guy who pulled out of fishing really preoccupied or is he planning something? what with all these people tryna take down Gicheol. was he the one under the towel?

ah, they're taking Seungho fishing instead of the Seo knife guy. and Chief Seo and Seungho had also talked a bit about alliances kinda/sticking together

Heeseung or whoever long-haired also scheming?

how can they cliffhanger end on Seungho possibly shooting somebody to kill two eps in a row lmfaoo

Fave Scene: when Junmo and Euijung's eyes first meet at the funeral and it's so tragic that they can't meet. then when Junmo breaks down and bows while thinking about his MIL being kind to him.

Ep 5 (June 21)

um hm so last ep I did not stop halfway through the ep and now it's 4:30pm but I must do it this ep... around 5pm i should stop and do some work...

he really did start shooting people this time, even if not fatally

ah, towel guy was knife Seo

but he said he wouldn't betray them and also came in to help. took his sweet time to intervene though lmao

damn, I'm invested in Junmo/Euijung and also sometimes am into Seungho/Gicheol... why can't this be a fucking triangle bruh

why did those 2 guys (not the top two) who knew about them going fishing tell Seungho to be worried about himself... I know the long-haired Heesung was a rat, maybe Jeongdae is a rat, are these two also rats? Were they the people who met at the billiards thing idek can't remember the faces rip

Youngdae better not be a spy and he better not die, he's such a cutie. he legit thinks the world's gonna end in 4 years what the hell

Youngdae saw the cop getting out of the van after speaking to Seungho...

so is it not Heeseung fr? but he saw those vans following their car?

oh Seongho really does not want people die, especially not at his hands or because of him

oof, Gicheol's really letting him live... how can you be at the top of the gang if you just beat up the rat who almost got you and somebody else killed and also has caused problems with your drug trade with the Japanese lmfao now other people are gonna be like well even if i sell em out, i won't die

also I've been saying the wrong names!!!! long haired guy is Jeongbae, short haired guy is Heesung. i know once somebody else called long-haired as Jeongbae but I'd already thought he was Heeseong so I was like... I will ignore this

oh yeah, what was up with the old professor? she was mentioned at the very start but never again until this glimpse now... is the the one who makes or gives instructions on how to make the drugs? was she a prof of chemistry or smth i can't rmr

oh lol she's Yoon Wongil and she'd previously been caught for cooking meth, i see

okay wtf actually why is Gicheol fucking ditching the Chinese meeting (that's happening because of the ambush and them not being able to deliver their fucking drugs) to hang out with Euijung... be so serious right now. the day after he lets the rat live no less. are you cut out to be the leader like this wtf

right, we already know that long-hair Jeongbae (not Heeseung, wrong name) was in kahoots with the other gang

...did Seo knife guy do something at all? They showed him saying no etc but he was quite late in saving the 2 of them. but he's questioning now how they found Gicheol that night, so maybe he didn't tell them

Seo's killing the guy who attacked Gicheol... we know he followed them from Seoul but not in his own car... possibly in Seo's car?

okay, so Gicheol had said to take care of Kang Geon. and Heeseung and Jeongbae are clean. Jeongbae really had his kid we know that at least

Gicheol so fucking obvious, Jeongbae's like it's because of Euijeong right?

Jeongbae and Gicheol trusting each other and speaking... Euijeong and Junmo also meeting up alone after So Long at home... T.T

always makes me nervous when Junmo meets the cops

so these last 2 people were also part of the Chinese people who were coming right?

Euijung worries about her husband and gets mad at the lack of precautions and wants to help more to ensure he's safe/finishes the missions asap. I think that's a reasonable reaction where it respects his autonomy while also expressing her own feelings, I think it'd be fair if she has an even worse reaction considering he could die at any moment, even if he's done nothing to give anything away, because people wanna kill Gicheol.

Junmo on the other hand is so proprietary over Euijung like she is indeed also a cop, she's an inspector, she's ranked higher than you. And she's not even in as much of a danger, just that Gicheol likes her and doesn't like her husband and it's not like Euijung's gonna fucking get with Gicheol. it's not unreasonable for him to be jealous but the way he's so... yeah idk what else to say except proprietary and as if he can dictate her actions like stfu idk i'm so fucking picky in my het romances and how the man treats/views the woman. But I also get him because he feels that he's not good enough for her, everybody says so from his wife's family to fuckass Gicheol, so to have her flirt with somebody rich and perhaps more successful in the eyes of others will rub him the wrong way.

A lot of people on the on-air think Dohyung (the undercover cop guy) is actually working for the bad guys and tipping them off after communicating with Seungho. I didn't even think of that tbh lol

Ep 6 (June 21)

marriage?! Gicheol's been wanting to marry Euijung since high school, girl meet a different lover!

ah, the people at the end last ep were Japanese, not from the Chinese branch

this hotel meeting is filled with cops because of the Kr-Jpn-Chn meeting and also the Gangnam cops who are trailing them for murdering that Cho drug dealer

this meeting is just near heart attack one after the other

wants him to pretend nd stand so that he can see if he's being watched

lol do they just wanna talk alone

lmao yeah. so he aint even watching?

Jeongbae sees the undercover cops too

okay i was having dinner so barely wrote anything but lots of stuff happened

It's important that 1) Jeongbae has seen the undercover cop Dohyung but unrelated to Seungho 2) Yeongdae saw the cop coming out of/near the van when Seungho was in it

the Chinese woman keeps noting how Seungho's going far and risking his life for Gicheol lol

Talking about how Seungho fully trusts Gicheol. both Gicheol and the Chinese woman noting it

It's actually interesting that she's taking Such A Note of Seungho, like more than Gicheol, she's taking Seungho more into account regarding whether she'll continue business with them

also Junmo's so good at this lmfao he's fooling everybody about his identity and loyalties

bruh, Miss Lee likes Seungho

please, these cops

hah, Seungho being like yeah lemme turn myself into the police, I'll take the fall no worries, just let me in on the drug trade next time plsplspls

I love Miss Lee, loveeee her. the way she speaks and watches, ah. also her "your Japanese is acting like a kiiing" @ 50:45 is great. I hope she appears again later

Ep 7 (June 21)

I was supposed to watch 3 episodes today, how am I about to start ep 7, it's 8:30pm I've done nothing today except watch this show...

Damn, the clueless angry gangnam cop really beat the shit out of Seungho. I've never really considered whether he'd turn to the "bad" side tbh cuz he seems invested in his cop life and is averse to killing and he def wouldn't be worthy of his wife as a criminal but this sort of cop abuse of authority should at least make him consider wtf cops are lol

Jeongbae's intuitions crazy good + his suspicions all correct and yet they all keep brushing him off to protect Seungho lmfao fools

Ah, Gicheol feels inferior against the Chinese and Japanese reps and how they treat him

Is the Chinese assistant scouting out a new seller or anything

Miss Lee, I love you

pls not her basically dragging Seungho around on a date kinda

the way Seungho's speaking sounds like he's in love with Gicheol

damn, Gicheol's been stashing away some of the meth and selling here? or has that been Jeongbae (the Yankee kid was getting it from Jeongbae)

cringe "you can spend more time with me" i don't wanna watch omg, you think she gives a fuck about spending more time with you ohhhh men.

at least she barely laughed lol I was ready for a raucous laughter

ahh, they fucking got Jeongbae's ass and letting him go free made it even worse in Gicheol's eyes.

omg not their friendship falling the fuck apart because of lying etc

Jeongbae is literally correct that Gicheol needs him because Gicheol can't see Seungho's suspicious actions nor can he think because of Euijung

omg Jeongbae literally having an angry outburst but he's only yelling things that are true, this is wild

"One day you'll realize you were blinded. I guarantee it." oh Jeongbae, I hope you live to see it and that you're not collateral damage who dies or smth

their entire floor must be just cigarette butts and the burnt stuff

why the hell is Seo now fighting Jeongbae. I like Jeongbae, can we not do this right now... I need him to live and cackle when he finally hears down the grape vine that Seungho was indeed an undercover cop and Gicheol was a dumbass

omg... Gicheol did a very nice thing for Euijeong but he overheard one of the ladies and has figured out that Euijeong didn't use to live in the same city as Seungho...

ahhhh the corrupt cop fell off the roof in a fight with Seungho...

but Seungho's more relieved to see he got the papers that would've blown his cover

he's leaving the man like this and taking the documents + phone that would've ruined his gig

why the hell are Gicheol and Euijeong's dates and hangouts so fucking boring. I didn't care about their past flashbacks but that's not surprising but even their current scenes together are so... freaking mellow and feel kinda useless because it's not like Euijeong's really helping the case progress, it's so boring when they're together. i'd expected more mind games at least!

I started and ended this episode being like hm... Seungho going to the dark side possibly? I don't think he'd actually abandon it, but he's probably gonna become more and more ambiguous as time goes on, especially with how we ended this ep. Also interesting that both the start and end of this ep began with corrupt cops

okay hear me out so Gicheol is completely blind when it comes to Euijeong right, like she's a fucking cop but he's just hagnigng around her and plans to marry her lol and similarly... he is blinded by Seungho, he trusts him deeply and worries for him and wants him by his side. This means that Gicheol also likes/loves/has romantic feelings for Seungho. yes.

Ep 8 (June 21)

It's nearly 11pm, I want to say this will be my last episode for the day but who knows. What an addictive, exciting show

Miss Lee is too kind not killing these sexist fuckers

ah, Seungho being haunted by that guy's death. expected

woah, all 4 of them at one place. you know i was like let's have a 3some with euijeong/seungho/gicheol but now it's like 4some with Miss Lee let's go

but it's funny how Miss Lee immediately clocked Euijeong and Gicheol lmfao, she did Not like the way they looked at each other

I wanna know Yongdae's little mission so bad, what a cutie. I'll be mad as fuck if he dies frrrr

not Euijeong and Gicheol both looking at their guns...

and Euijeong and Seungho's dates both being like .hm. at them calling/their phone ringing

I... think Seungho and Miss Lee should kiss. actually i think it happens bc in the ep 6-7 on-air somebody mentioned an edit where they were kissing apparently

I'm so proud of Yongdae for all the intel and research yay

lmfao Gicheol has Yongdae pretending to be a cop

i'm so excited, they keep reaching for their guns and also I want to know exactly what and how much Yongdae said and Gicheol knows. like probably that Euijeong's father never worked at Wonju but did Yongdae say that the photo of Junmu is literally Seungho?

is he choosing between gun vs necklace?

the handheld cameras shakiness is throwing me off, I don't like it

aghhhh they keep covering their trails too well, now they've got Euijeong's dad working at Wonju smh and probably replaced the Junmu photo too

I want Gicheol to find out soon so fucking bad but I don't think he will in these 2 eps because I accidentally had clicked on the 8-9 on-air and the first comment was about how Seungho was doing so much and going so far for this mission or whatever. so we'll find out in the last quarter. i just want it not in the last 30 minutes or whatever man

Yongdae has now seen Dohyung the cop coming from the van/near the van where Seungho was + now at the police room + also... would he recognize him from Junmo's photo?

omg, the Gangnam cops found Seungho/Junmo's lighter at the PI death scene

poor Gicheol getting confessed to and Literally Crying over it but it's all A Lie. at least Euijeong's now taking the leap and getting even closer to Gicheol fr now

stay away from Gicheol at all costs tonight...???

Gicheol on a fucking date with a cop while the Japanese folks are talking to another gang lmfao what the hell man. he's so smart in some scenarios (keeps digging and cross-checking everything) but whenever he trusts Euijung, every rational thought goes out the window

I like Miss Lee and Seungho and I also know why Seungho's not expressing much outward interest toward her but I want better for her... after she compliments a man she's on a date with, he should also say what he likes about her, no? or show any sort of initiative or attraction

Gicheol wants to become a good person...? is he gonna push back on Seungho's drug deal and be like no i am to become a reformed person? lol

ahhhh I love Miss Lee/Seungho even though Seungho's uh... not really having a good time/into it. it started out kinda hot but got sadder as time went on. sorry that i was into it at first despite you experiencing workplace sexual harassment junmo. also i'm nervous he's gonna say Euijeong's name...

ah... China and Japan are teaming up with Jageon group and gonna attack Gicheol... will we Finally get the intro scene please?

ahh exciting

Ep 9 (June 21)

If we figure out the identities this ep, I'll be so happy. Also glad we're finally getting the intro scene cuz everything for me was like this isn't the intro scene yet, so they don't know this or that won't happen, etc

aw no, the flashback to their wedding and the father interruption

both Seungho and Gicheol noticing Euijung in a chokehold... and Gicheol having to save her... it's not that I don't get it but I'm just frustrated

just disgusting and violent and brutal... and Euijung witness Junmo-Seungho that way...

Miss Lee and Seungho on one side of the gladd, Euijeong and Gicheol on the other...

brutal... Seungho like this truly reminds me of Strangers From Hell last episode

Heeseung noticed how Gicheol didn't help him even as he nearly died (but was focused on the cop woman I think)

ah, both of them are reminiscing about the start of the relationship... also Euijeong clenched her fist when Gicheol kissed her both in the past and last episode but she kissed Junmo first and doesn't do that

clean office the next day lol

oof, almost got Seungho with the lighter thing

but he does know/have a very big hunch that Seungho killed the PI and he's correct

Seungho wants this trade to happen more than Gicheol does

and he’s willing to do anything wtf is this finger thing is Gicheol missing a finger at all

ah, betrayal in the Japanese yakuza

ah, Gicheol knew about the betrayal. that’s why he was disrespectful to the old man and fucking things up bc he knew he’ll do business with new guy

Euijung's actress is from True Beauty - the cool older sister

just insane. I’m really liking this show. only 3 more eps left, hope it doesn’t let me down ahh. I Need it to stick the landing

Ep 10 (June 22)

mad that i got woken up at 5:30am, esp bc i’ve got less than 5 hours of sleep or smth but uh, i wanna watch next ep…

lmfao Gicheol wants to hand over this thing to Seungho and walk away and be a normal man bc of Euijeong… girl both your right hand Seungho and your girl Euijeong want you in jail!!!

either Junmo nor Gicheol feeling worthy of Euijeong and wanting to be

i just feel like so far, despite doing too much and going too far, Seungho hasn’t shown interest in actually becoming the boss or staying in this lifestyle

no like this Mingoo cop is so bothersome like if he was like Jaengdo it’d be fine bc he’d be correct and it’d be ironic how they’re ignoring him but he’s also constantly abusing his power and it’s annoying. why the hell don’t the cops control him more

lol double date and it’ll be fun to see Euijung jealous

Miss Lee is funny as hell i love her

I just Neeeed to know whether Miss Lee can see the intense eye contact and emotion that Euijeong and Seungho share

i am ILL why do I like Miss Lee/Seungho so fucking much. like in the end i still want the real married couple in love to end up together and overcome this but I really like these two and their cute little dates (workplace sexual harassment not withstanding…). and also Seungho has been giving Miss Lee little smiles tonight, ah how cute

pls the way Miss Lee is like do you even have feelings for me? she’s so spoiled that she doesn’t care if he does or doesn’t, he wants him just bc she likes him.

Knife Seo pissed me the fuck off with brutalizing Jeongbae just as he was leaving but if he kills Mingoo i will be less mad

Junmo’s father?!?! Meth Park?

they’re trying to set up Knife Seo for Manager Cho’s death - which isn’t untrue but there’s a reason for the fake witness setup ig

stop suspecting Jeongnbae, you dumbass

ah, they gave up Knife Seo kinda to distract Mingoo ig…

Dohyung telling Junmo to not overdo it and that he’s a cop who needs to return to that life

Everybody going to the port while Euijeong sitting worried at home, agh this show

Jeonbae at the office… and saying he told Gicheol the cop bitch would screw him over…

Ep 11 (June 22)

Two episodes left, pleaseeee stick the landing

2 Days Earlier oof

It’s annoying because Mingoo is kinda good at his job in some aspects and so keeps catching onto things lmfao

i get more mad as they show Euijeong helpless to stop the deal from going through and is just upset and worried at home

Gicheol sees himself in Seungho

not this random ass car crash with Dodgers. is this Mingoo’s doing wtf

omg the car blowing up?!

oh that was Kyungjin (the previous rat), not Dodgers oops. So Jeongbae did this? omg

1 week to get the stolen drugs back oof, will they meander a lot? also when will Gicheol find out about the identities?

fucking he’ll, Mingoo’s at Junmo’s old station where people actually know him

what is Changchun to Seungho or maybe Junmo rather…

oh he’s just excited that he knows that the gang is based in Changchun

Dohyung playing as Park Junmo at Gangnam station with Mingoo but Knife Seo and Yongdae (guy who has seen Dohyung multiple times now including the piece of paper like 2 secs ago that Seo saw) also caught a glimpse from the outside

Gicheol having by to tell Seungho to not cross the line after he suggests fucking up Jeongbae’s family members omg

guess Jeongbae stole all the money and everything oof stupid, how can y’all leave everything unmanned?

fucks sake I’m so over Euijeong playing worried, useless wife. and Dohyung is annoying too like obviously Seungho’s fucked up. obviously he is. what the hell you want him to do

and Knife Seo + Yongdae know that the man (Dohyung cosplaying Junmo) is a narcotics division cop who swapped pages for an investigation

also they don’t fucking tell Seungho that his father was taken in for questioning at Gangnam. he may not realize at once that he’s Meth Park but some prep, some foresight could happen

omg Knife Seo brutalizing Dohyung and finding out he’s not Junmo and also not trusting Seungho and wanting him to stab Dohyung

Ep 12 (June 22)

one hour left… be good please. I’ll watch it at 1x speed

damn Seo killed Dohyung

Dohyung still telling Seungho that he’s a cop and to never forget

wonder what Yongdae’s gonna make of this and if he’ll inform Gicheol

I need Gicheol to find out the identities and soooon and have enough time for the realization and heartbreak and anger that comes with it

“If I’m gonna die anyway, I might as well be killed by hyung” Jeongbae to Gicheol omg… should’ve been shipping these two this whole time they make me so fucking sad

I need to kill Mingoo like actually. annoying ass fucker

Jeongbae and Heesung teaming up and going to Mingoo with the drugs… crazy but also funny in ways because the cops of this case Don’t Want That, they wanna catch em red-handed along w China and Japan branches

like Mingoo wants to catch Gicheol or whatever but that’s not what the investigation wants, they want whole drug ring and how it’s being passed around

Heeseung and Jeongbae really betrayed him like this. Can’t say I’m surprised

parallels of Gicheol getting taken away in the cop car

2nd purposeful car crash in two consecutive episodes lol

does Euijung actually do anything except stand and worry/cry?

no but what’s the plan lol like we have Gicheol but the drug trade ain’t gonna happen without the drugs

Dohyung died ig but they aren’t telling Seungho

okay, one more plan for handoff to Japan, everybody involved and knows what’s happening (though not everybody knows who else knows lol)

30 minutes left

I keep thinking Miss Lee’s guard mans is gonna interfere somehow

Mingoo if you don’t fucking stop brih

how did Mingoo and his lackey find out about Seungho being Junmo and the wedding photo before all of them im dead

okay god bless, Seungho was at least like how about you stay somewhere far away, so Miss Lee is still a lovesick fool (her and Gicheol similarities….) and I assume didn’t betray him even though she knows who he is

she’s stabbed Mingoo, thank you. hated that fucker

Think I could’ve also shipped Miss Lee with her guard, similar to History 3: Trapped

good luck Miss Lee, thank you for being here for these last few episodes because I couldn’t have taken it if fucking Euijung was out only female characters

Seungho betraying Gicheol but not revealing who he is but also keeping the key in the ignition of the car where he handcuffed Gicheol…

the arrest somehow anticlimactic but wrapping up well. need moreeee from Gicheol

ah okay Gicheol here in their apartment and knows things now

oof

damn, Junmo shot for the fucking heart, I thought he’d shoot Gicheol’s arm so that he can’t kill himself or whatever

the fact that he killed Gicheol like that is crazy like actually fr

what ring did Junmo leave… wedding ring??? w a cigarette. and Euijeong had left her cross matching necklace

I wonder why Jungmo killed Gicheol and what it accomplished. The only thing I can think of is that getting murdered is better than committing suicide, afterlife punishment wise, so in a twisted, romantic way you can think of it as Junmo saving Gicheol’s soul from eternal damnation or whatever due to suicide by surrendering his own soul to it instead since he committed murder. Some people said maybe he did it because then Euijeong didn't lead to her friend's suicide (even if she didn't love him like he wanted, she seemingly cared for Gicheol to a certain extent), but idk would her husband being a murderer be better?

Overall:

Surprised even myself by binging this in 24 hours (10am-10am June 21-22) when I was planning on watching ~3eps/day for 4 days. Intense, interesting, engaging, exciting, thrilling. How fun. Been a while since I couldn't stop watching a show from beginning to end because even when I'd be excited and binge a few eps, I'd usually lose interest or be disappointed or just falter after a couple episodes.

Last time I binged like this might've been Alice In Borderland last year, April 2023, S1 8 eps in ~14 hours. I did watch Good Bad Mother 14 episodes in ~50 hours this April 2024 though.

This was exciting because it made me feel like when I had just started watching k-dramas or thrillers, and everything was exciting and I'd just watch it for hours on end. Also helped because I straight up knew nothing about this except Wi Hajoon is in this (the guy who really had me getting into watching shows and dramas) + cop story; I literally thought they were a pair of cops lmfao not infiltration.

For A Shop for Killers, I started watching at 1.25x halfway through because it was slow and I wanted it to get a move on/finish certain parts quicker. This one I started with 1.25x from the very first episode and it goes very well with the fast-paced nature of this show.

The 90s timeline was a nice touch, it let us go farther with the "nobody in this city far away from where he lives/works knows what Junmo (a random cop in a random station) looks like"

I wasn't on anybody's side - I knew/suspected the cops and Seungho would win because that's just the kind of story but I wanted more and better from each side, I wanted them to be clever and to outsmart each other. When Gicheol did something clever, I was excited and when Seungho did something clever, I was equally excited.

It was also just a unique experience to have Jeongbae literally telling Gicheol about the suspicious people and being right on the money while Gicheol brushes him off. That one at least I enjoyed because I liked to see the group fracture and lose trust but I hated the Mingoo fucker so bad. It would've been one thing if he was actually just doing it all sneakily but ethically (as much as you can be as a cop lmfao) because he wanted to help or whatever, it would've been ironic how I still wouldn't want him to have much progress because I'd want the main investigation to go well, but this dirty cop motherfucker who also plays with these gangs but wants to arrest Gicheol for the police fame and notoriety too? Miss Lee you are a real and true winner for killing that motherfucker.

I pity Gicheol, he really had Seungho and Euijeong left at the end but they both were conspiring against him. But Seungho was right that Gicheol didn't need to do all this, it's an excuse, he just wanted to be powerful and at the top and rich. It's not surprising that others turned their back on him (didn't he himself kill the previous leader to take over + by the end he was only worried about himself and not really his friends or the guys under him) and it's not surprising how he turned out. He was also making such stupid decisions because of his love for Euijeong. he was not portrayed in a heinous light despite his criminal and cruel behaviour. Sometimes he would yell (ex. when he was yelling at Seungho to shoot Cho) and it felt like I could see more of his ruthless side

Seungho-Junmo's character was interesting too, enjoyed him constantly pushing farther and doing too much just to keep his cover and have the investigation continue. I don't think I ever really thought that Junmo would go to the dark side or really team up with Gicheol or anything, it seemed clear that he was doing this for the investigation and to keep his wife's involvement as low as possible + to prove himself as well. I haven't watched Ji Changwook in anything before this but he was impressive with the acting.

I liked the main romance at the beginning, it was so heartbreaking how Junmo couldn't be at his MIL's funeral and the scene when he and Euijeong made eye contact secretly was tragic and touching. The scenarios where they had to pretend to not be together and either going on dates with Gicheol or on that double date were also interesting. But after a while, it got boring and repetitive because they weren't giving Euijeong any new material. It makes sense that they divorced or stopped being together after that mission, Gicheol was a changed man, a more ruthless and cold man who is not doing alright and Euijeong saw him kill Gicheol in front of her. They had asked before the last scene if they could go back to normal like before and the answer is simply no.

I don't think she was romantically interested in Gicheol at all by the way.

I didn't think of The Devil Judge while watching this show but as I was thinking about it afterwards, I kind of started noticing similarities a bit, so I'll write some of my thoughts in comparison. SPOILERS ALSO FOR DEVIL JUDGE IF ANYBODY OTHER THAN ME IS READING THIS:

Taeho-Seungho and Yohan's brother-Gaon: the former was somebody close to Gicheol-Yohan who died and reminded him of him. Gaon was much more directly and often referred to as similar to Yohan's brother but Seungho had bits of Taeho as his cousin (though Seungho reminded Gicheol more of himself tbh)

Euijeong and Soohyun (I think that's her): our main characters Seungho and Gaon had female love interests who were also both cops but were underutilized, underwritten, and ultimately not very useful. I fucking wish Euijeong was more involved, did more cool things, not just wait around and be worried about Junmo (and Gicheol) and have extremely boring dates with Gicheol. at least she didn't die i guess...

Miss Lee Haeryeong and Seonah: ahhh my interesting, antagonist women who I was obsessed with. The were given more personality and dimension than the first love interests I'd mentioned but it could never work out with them because they were too dangerous or not on the right side and the one she likes does not like her back. I think Miss Lee was especially important here because Devil Judge at least had other female characters who got screentime (younger sister Elijah was a semi-prominent character and the Minister was a badass) but here she was the only one other than Euijeong and I've already expressed my dissatisfaction with how they used that character. Miss Lee Haeryeong was a lovesick fool truly, but I give it a pass because we have an even bigger lovesick fool in this cast (oh, Gicheol), so it wasn't just like a sexist stereotype. I had loved how unhinged Seonah and Yohan were like truly unpredictable and dangerous and this show wasn't that (well Haeryeong did sexually assault/coerce Seungho that one time yikes) but her dynamic with Seungho still brought some fun into it all. She was kinder in letting Seungho's plan go through though instead of Seonah backstabbing Yohan, but Seungho was also kinder to her by telling her to leave the countries than Yohan was so Seonah.

Gicheol and Yohan: the actors were very good choices for their roles because they are not good people but they are very charming and make you want to root for them even as they do bad things or commit crimes. Yohan was overall "better" while Gicheol was literally a criminal and drug dealer and murderer who owned businesses. I didn't think of Gicheol as the antagonist because despite him definitely being that and I think it's mostly due to the way he was portrayed in the show but also about how Wi Hajoon specifically idk

homoeroticism? I think it's Much more pronounced in The Devil Judge but here, I was like... we can get a threesome going with Euijeong involved. Seungho was never on Gicheol's side here unlike with Gaon and Yohan being allies/friends/whatever in Devil Judge and the scriptwriters also didn't frame it as a possible ship ever whereas it definitely seemed like something they were alluding to in DJ. But it's a fun thought, maybe if I rewatch it and am not just so focused on the plot, I can try looking at it in that way.

The Ending: ...sad. Gaon and Junmo are changed people. Gicheol's dead, which is not surprising to me, though the way it happened wasn't what I was expecting. Junmo is not doing well, his marriage is falling apart, he's killed people, Dohyung's death has taken a toll on him, he's a more jaded person, he resents the fact that he had to do this mission. It was a fitting ending after all this.

Anyway, not super similar plot-wise but certain threads are maybe just common tropes.

The Devil Judge started off with 7.5 stars but lost its 0.5 to become 7 because I can't actually remember much about the show's plot and hold no affection for the characters. I hope my feelings for this show ages better.

I'm especially curious how I'll feel because my 3 favourite k-dramas are Squid Game, Beyond Evil, and Squid Game and I felt so deeply for the characters there. However, for the Devil Judge, I didn't feel attached to the characters after watching and so I do not think about that show at all. While watching The Worst of Evil, I wasn't against anybody nor was I on anybody's side and I didn't form attachments to the characters, like I don't love the 2 main leads and their bond or anything. So I thoroughly enjoyed the thrilling ride for the first time but to make me rewatch or think about the show weeks and months from now, usually a strong character arc or character relationship is necessary and this show doesn't really have that. So we'll see how I feel about it later on. I wrote a whole lot omg

Rating: 7.5/10

[essskel]

i've just seen you post a lot of cool asks and deep discussions over the past day and i got lonely and want to join the party hehe. so i was going to ask smth that ive been meaning to ask your opinion on for a while: what do you think about philippa's martyrdom and the rewriting of history which occurred after her death? i was always kind of shocked with how violent a death she was recorded as receiving, and shocked twice-over at how positively she was thought of a hundred years after her death. but it's just very interesting to me, especially because of the real-life historical context as it relates to christian martyrdom, and the message around it about history often being obscured - nimue and condwiramurs 'seeking the truth' of the ending of the legend of the witcher girl and debating what is factual history and what is made-up, while at the very same time, discussing the accounts of the members of the lodge and not thinking to question their positive impressions of their morality or motivations. it makes for some great dramatic irony. like nimue and condwiramurs being fans of both ciri and philippa despite the obvious antagonistic relationship between these two. (well, okay, i suppose they're just like us, then...)

Sorry this answer is late but YEAH what was up with Philippa's ending.

I was initially put off by it especially after her final scene that's filled with all this anger and persevering determination to keep Radovid from holding power over her. It feels like this push of strength that's followed up by 'and then she died horribly anyway' which took the wind out of the sails a bit for me.

But...idk, now I think I'm more at peace with it, because like you said, her crimes being swept aside by history in favor of a more heightened and reverent narrative is probably the best ending she could have asked for after the life she lived. It's such a time-honored pathway to infamy that historical figures fall into, particularly political figures in colonizing countries.

Going further, I have no idea if Sapkowski intended this, but to me, her ending and the legacy that nimue and condwiramurs have adopted might relate to some of the discussions of white feminsm and the way that complex or even downright awful, murderous female historical figures have been romanticized and martyred by 'progressive' groups in ways that they should not have been. Marie-Antoinette, Mother Theresa, Virginia Woolf, literally any British Queen, Coco Chanel, Bonnie Parker (of Bonnie and Clyde), ect. (that list was all over the place, sorry lmao that was off the top of my head) Some of those women are war criminals, some are Nazis, some are outspoken racists, but they've all been called feminist figures at some point, some still are.

So Philippa with her covert, hard to track operations of the lodge, paired with a very public and cruel death? Yeah, actually it does make sense that she's a saint decades later, and I don't think she'd be very let down by this either.

And in relation to Ciri, it just feels like a final reminder that it's not the world, or the countries, or even history that's on Ciri's side, it was only ever truly her family that knew her and respected her in full. nimue and condwiramurs try to know her and they do in their own very important way - I don’t actually fault them - but they can’t 100% do right by her or even know her in the way they hope because that’s just not how time works.

[illumoonated]

Thoughts about Wednesday (the show)

I wished i liked the Wednesday show more. Truly. But...

...the writing felt half-assed. The characters felt lazy. The addams family felt not quite weird enough. It seemed to be a very safe (somewhat boring) reboot that ppl are groveling over simply bc they want winclair to be canon (which, fine do your thing -- but you're setting yourselves up for heartbreak bc these writers/showrunners give zero effs about making wednesday canonically queer). The love triangle was actually painful to watch.

There was throw-away "representation" with her being asked if she was into someone a "guy...or you know, a girl?" to get woke points. Someone else pointed it out too, but the black male mayor being told he doesn't "know what it's like to be not heard" was so incredibly tone deaf it threw me off. As well as the only real POCs having a personality being the actual Addams crew.

(The siren queen bee was cool but she like immediately became Wednesday's bestie after 2 minutes of a heart to heart at a dance? Idk she felt wasted/characterized too quickly to feel impactful when she helped in the last episode. There was no emotional "oomph" to her being on Wednesday's team.) ((Also there was the aapi vampire who smiled once and had a single line of dialogue or smth...? wish we got more from her bc that's a cool-ass concept of being stuck in a place like nevermore where ppl know you're an immortal--like I was waiting for a big reveal to be pulled from this vamp being like "hey I knew your parents when they went here, oh, that fancy book you need? I have read all the nevermore books so many times I can just rewrite it for you by memory, where's your typewriter?")) Basically none of the students "banded together" for Wednesday in a believable way. They just...did....?

And if the intent was to simply get a flavor of the month moody white boi as Wednesday's love interest -- fine, but you didn't even make them likeable (not the actors' faults, bc they were clearly given no direction other than "go and be in love w wednesday for no reason bc she's MC"). And Wednesday as a character would avoid the moody bois and possessive "nice guys" like the plague (pun not intended) and would find interest in a strange/true social outcast more. (If she's gotta be with a boy make sure it's like whatshisface in Addams Family Values who is nerdy and nervous and a true social outcast that Wednesday had a real banter/challenge with instead of gross obsession/ownership like fuccboi #1 and #2. Again, not the actors' faults.)

I am so torn as an ace person bc I want her to be aroace so badly (and I believe it would be an appropriate identity for her). I also don't want to be the ace person being like "no winclair shouldn't be canon" bc I want sapphic stories to be represented but I hate how any close platonic relationships are automatically romanticized/ran away with despite how the characters feel about the other person. Again, if this is a friends(roomates) to lovers story fine. But there's zero chance that'll happen with the writing where it's currently at (I mean, they can change this but rn I don't see it happening).

TL;DR 1. wednesday shows how thirsty we all are for true queer rep/romantic or otherwise

2. the love triangle trope (esp the cishet ones) have to be damn good in this day and age to be worthwhile (the triangles in 1899 come to mind as good, current examples involving fleshed out characters with chemistry)

3. the show is trying to earn woke points without committing,

4. the addams family is mischaracterized from the source material,

5. this reboot entry is safe, lazy, and predictable from a plot, character, and worldbuilding standpoint (I was expecting far out weird/spooky shit like the Sabrina netflix series tbh and was really disappointed in how safe this reboot played it)

6. I wish I wanted winclair to be canon but i don't and I wish I did so ppl don't think i'm being "too ace" or "anti-" bc anytime platonic relationships occur between two pretty ppl the internet loses its mind and disregards what the characters actually feel about each other (reinforcing that friendship < romance)