#I know I’m definitely reading way too much into this

[salemrph]

Stay with me, Sylus

A/N: I just needed this moment after Magnum Opus. The yearning, the love, and the soft moment between Sylus and us... I can't get enough of it. So this is my little fantasy of how it should have ended.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 950 | Reading Time: 3 min | AO3

You walked Sylus to the door. This date was something you needed, even when you were tired and exhausted from the previous missions. Having Sylus around made you feel relaxed. Your new dynamic was heartwarming. And even if you didn’t quite understand why this man was so persistent about getting hiking gear, you were glad he used that excuse to come visit you.

Your back-and-forth, the way you both danced around the real matter, was something that might never change. The ironic way Sylus said:

"We’re dating now? Should I bring you roses next time?"

It made you smile, and of course, you didn’t miss a beat, asking for the roses with the most thorns.

You didn’t want him to leave. And he wasn’t in a rush, either. So he stayed, half in the corridor, half at your door. He keeps talking, stretching the moment to part. His words were coated in honey, filled with those promises he never made lightly. Because everything he had ever said he would do, he had kept his word.

Your heart flutters as if a thousand butterflies have taken flight, and you find yourself gripping the door frame without realizing it. 

“Are you just going to… stand there all day?” you asked. His red eyes flicked to you, amused. 

“I could camp here.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He smirked, taking a slow step closer. “You always dance around the real question, though. It's charming.”

You exhaled sharply “Do you-” You hesitated, suddenly unable to finish the sentence.

Sylus tilted his head. Leaning in, placing one arm on the door frame. “Do I?” 

“You know.” You gestured vaguely, as if that would clarify anything. “Want to Stay over.”

The smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. “I suppose that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether the couch is still my designated territory, or if I’m being upgraded to… somewhere else.” His voice was teasing. 

Heat crept up your neck. You huffed. “Why do you say things like that?”

“Because it’s fun watching you try to untangle them.” He took another step closer. Too close now, the air between you shrinking, charged. “But if you’d rather be direct, just tell me where you want me.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, your entire brain short-circuiting at that choice of words. Sylus chuckled, clearly enjoying this too much.

“I-” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to find a way to say it without actually saying it. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Sylus hummed, pretending to consider. “So that means…”

You groaned. “It means you can sleep wherever you want.”

At that, something shifted, without warning he closed the distance entirely. Pulling you against him, one hand on your back and the other still on the door frame. The heat of him is impossible to ignore.

“Wherever I want?” he murmured. Your pulse stuttered. You don't want him to leave but the way he makes you blush so easily is annoying. He is so annoying. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. 

“N- not anywhere, but if you’re so into camping, do it in the living room” you muttered, half angry. 

Sylus smirked. He definitely caught that hesitation.

His fingers brushed your lower back before suddenly pinching lightly at your side, making you hitch and instinctively press closer into him. The reaction was immediate, your body betraying you before your mind could catch up. You barely had time to swat at his hand before he stepped fully into your apartment again.

The door clicked shut behind him. His back rested against it as he tugged you into his arms again, dragging you effortlessly against his god-blessed body. The space between you vanished, replaced by the solid warmth of him, the way his breath fanned against your temple. Your fingers pressed against his chest, an attempt to put some distance between you, but the moment you tried to escape, his grip tightened. 

“Kitten,” he drawled, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “You were the one telling me I should be more direct and now you’re stumbling around?”

Your jaw clenched, your body betraying you even as you tried to resist giving him the satisfaction. The heat from him seeped into your skin, making it impossible to think clearly, to ignore the way your pulse stuttered against his touch. You swallowed hard, tilting your chin up in defiance, even though your face was already burning.

“It’s different when you do it.”

Sylus grinned, amused how you twist things in your favor. “Oh, I see.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He exhaled, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned in, close enough that his lips nearly grazed your skin. “You are making this difficult, sweetie,” he murmured. His breath  sends a shiver down your back. “Do you want me to push a little more?”

And then, just when you thought he might close the distance, just when your pulse spiked up, just when your fingers curled slightly against his chest, he pulled back.

"Say it."

You clicked your tongue, the spell breaking, pulling you back just enough to remember who you were dealing with.

“Fine…” you muttered, lowering your head for a brief moment, biting your lip. It’s only fair, you told yourself, trying to ignore how your heart pounded against your ribs. Slowly, you looked up again, your gaze locking with his, losing yourself in his eyes.

“Sylus…” The word lingered between you, a breath, a confession.

"You can sleep in my bed…"

The word left your lips like a surrender, and his expression shifted. Something that told you he wasn’t planning on letting you get much sleep tonight.

[the-slutty-farmer]

Random Relationship Headcanons I have for Caldarus

I swear I blacked out and when I came to I had written this lmfao

TW: talks of food, talks of sex but it's not graphic at all

GN Reader

MDNI

I feel like your first few “dates” w/ Caldarus are you going to the temple to teach him basic cooking skills

I’m just picturing you bringing loaves of bread and jam and non-perishables because let’s be real, without your intervention he’s probably not eating that much

The first few lesson are super simple like how to scramble or boil eggs, how to make a fresh salad (“You can’t burn a salad” You would say as you clean the veg, although Caldarus was sure he could if he tried hard enough), how to toast bread (he’s honestly so thrilled that you show him how to scrape the toast back to a golden color when he burns the hell out of it lmao)

You don’t really know it’s a date, you think you’re helping your friend feed themselves, but if only you could see the sparkle in his eyes and the small warm smile on his face while he watches you intensely explain why he can’t just crank up the heat to cook eggs faster as you gently and continuously move the eggs around the pan

He honestly has a hard time paying attention to what you’re saying lmao you have to do a lot of repeating

You get the warm fuzzies whenever you go over for your little lessons, but you don’t get the inkling they’re dates until the day you show up to the temple to see Caldarus already had dinner on the table for you

It’s a simple dinner buttered toast, cucumber salad, and baked sweet root

He runs a thumb over your lip to clean off a smear of butter

You would exchange a look, a little startled on your end, a little smug on his (he can’t help it, you’re so cute when you’re surprised)

Leaving his hand on your cheek he would lean across the table to press a soft, warm, chaste kiss to your lips and boy is that the start of something wonderful

He gets better at cooking as your relationship progresses but you do still occasionally give him cooking lessons, this time though they’re filled with stolen kisses, the front of his body pinning your body to the counter, he insists that he would learn better from that POV lmao

Let’s just say sometimes you forget all about the lesson and skip to dessert right there on the counter 😉

In the summertime there are lots of picnics on the temple steps. Lots of wine, bread, fresh cheese from the farm, jams, and cakes

Some of the villagers question why you seem to run off to the forest with enough food and drinks for a party, you being ever the quick thinker, tell them you like to make offerings at the temple

I mean . . . you are worshipping the local deity . . . in a way lmao

Please just imagine lounging on a picnic blanket together, sometimes in comfortable silence looking up at the way the sun shines through the canopy of leaves, sometimes he plays the lute for you, other times you read aloud to him from a saucy little book you borrowed from Elsie (don’t you just love the little blush across his cheeks when you read something especially audacious??)

The summer nights are spent under twinkling fireflies

There would be LOTS of skinny dipping in the lake near the temple, just you, the moon, and Caldarus

He loves to admire your form in the moonlight, in all his millennia he’s never seen someone so ethereal

When you’ve turned prune-y and decide to dry out on the grass laying side by side he can’t help himself but run a hand down your side, trying to commit every dip, curve, and dimple to memory

Which obviously turns into literal LOVEMAKING on the shore of the lake

It’s passionate, its adoring, you two truly worship each other when you have sex

(Side note, he’s definitely a gentle and attentive lover, I really can’t picture him being too rough or manhandling you, so sorry if that’s your bag)

When you’re done startling every critter in the woods he walks you hand in hand back to the temple where he wraps you still naked into one of his silky robes before tucking the both of you into his bed

[makeitworse]

4ÆM

step-father sangwoo who’s more than just family.

nsfw dc. minors dni. c/w: fem!reader / dark!sangwoo. pseudo-incest. age gap, power imbalance. grooming. jealousy. obsession. slowburn smut. a/n: taking my time writing a ji-yong fic rn & this was supposed to just be a small post in the meantime but i got carried away w the concept. for my father fuckers. also where’s the mother? don’t ask me

step-father sangwoo who pulled you into a hug the first time he introduced himself. his hands snaked down to your waist, touch lingering for longer than what could be considered appropriate.

step-father sangwoo who’s so generous to offer you rides everywhere. to your work, to your hangouts with friends. he just wants to make sure you’re getting there safe. it’s his job to take care of you after all, he’s your dad.

step-father sangwoo who’s intrusive with his questions. what coworkers are on with you today? any of them males? what about your friends then? do you think any of them have a crush on you? have you ever had a crush on any of them?

step-father sangwoo who encourages openness and honesty with him. he doesn’t want there to be an awkward barrier about these things; you can talk to him about boys and sex, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. he just wants to know you’re safe. so, have you done it yet?

step-father sangwoo who hovers too close for comfort when he’s around you in the house. his palms ghost over your curves. he brushes against you in inappropriate places far too often for it to be mistakes. and when someone else enters the room, he’s gone.

step-father sangwoo who spends time with you alone in your room, early in the morning and late into the night. it’s almost like he doesn’t want you leaving to see anyone other than him. you don’t mind all that much, you two get on very well. he knows you like a book (your diary: that he most definitely read) front to back.

step-father sangwoo who doesn’t believe in privacy. he’s very strict on keeping doors unlocked. what if there’s an emergency? but there usually isn’t, when he barges into your room while you’re still clad in a towel after a shower.

step-father sangwoo who’s bitterly cold, after he peered over your shoulder to catch you dirty-talking with a boy over text. his disapproval is palpable, so you fess up to him.

step-father sangwoo who believes that boys your age think with nothing but their dicks. they wouldn’t treat you any good. what do you need them for? you have your dad.

step-father sangwoo who’s behaving with a newfound strictness. i’m picking you up no later than 7pm. i’ll need to meet your friend’s parents. if boys are going, you’re staying home. he’s protective like you’re a kid, like you’re not grown enough to know what’s good for you.

step-father sangwoo who’s touchier than before. this time, he doesn’t hide his intent. he grabs your wrist when you try walking away while he’s scolding you for not calling him back quick enough. he pinches your chin and makes you look him in the eye when he’s warning you about staying out too late. he slides his hand onto your thigh while you’re riding passenger in his car on the way to a hang-out with your friends, telling you he’ll miss you while you’re gone.

step-father sangwoo who finds out you betrayed his trust and snuck around with a boy. he caved to a gut feeling and searched through your phone. it didn’t occur to you that he’d know your passcode. don’t you remember how much he hates locks? he made it clear you could tell him anything.

step-father sangwoo who corners you in your room. his voice is still as he confronts you, but his eyes are clouded over. there’s something dark flickering in them.

“was it worth it? did he get you off?”

step-father sangwoo who holds you by both sides of your face, making you stare him in the eye as you meekly admit you didn’t cum in your little secret encounter.

step-father sangwoo who balls your hair in a fist, cranes your head back, and kisses you with a bruising force. he parts your lips with his tongue as it roughly delves into your mouth. he’s kissing you like a starved man. he’s kissing you like he’s not your dad.

step-father sangwoo who shows you how a real man fucks. he goes down on you and you cum on his mouth. he curls his fingers in you and you cum again. and by the time he pulls his own pants down, you’re a blabbering mess, tears clumped in your lashes as he slams his hips into yours and fucks you right into another orgasm.

step-father sangwoo, who’s really not just your step-father anymore. he still drives you everywhere, but he slides one hand under your panties while the other sits on the steering wheel. you still hang-out with your friends, but he keeps you thinking of him by messaging you how lonely he is without you, how he can’t wait to fuck you once you’re back home.

step-father sangwoo who makes sweet promises to marry you once you’re older. how you’ll have your own place together, how he’d spoil you as his beautiful wife. but truthfully, he’ll never stop looking after you as his little girl.

[xylatox]

Collide | lhs

Woke up from my nap to see this masterpiece published by Rain! :) I'm so excited to read another fic of hers, unto my thoughts!!

You hated hockey. It was grueling and animalistic. Almost barbaric. It was not a hot sport and watching big hunks of men throwing each other around a big ice box was so not how you imagined your friday night would be going. — I already love the beginning lmfao

You don’t get it—any of it. The violent crashes, the speed, the way grown men bark and snarl at each other over a puck. — as a retired player of competitive sport, I get people being competitive but if this is how they move in hockey??? I honestly don't blame reader (I absolutely love her) for reacting like that because??😭 respectfully I wouldn't want them near me with that behaviour.

“It’s called animalistic,” you mutter, but she doesn’t hear you, too busy cheering with the rest of the lunatics. — I absolutely love her 😭 her personality is so amazing.

You manage a weak smile. “Uh-huh. Amazing.” Your sarcasm goes basically unnoticed by Yunjin, as she’s too busy celebrating the big win. — The curation (please tell me thats a word) of reader's personality is absolutely amazing, like everything about her from just the bluntness and sarcasm I absolutely love. I do love that despite these traits being seen she still decides to go with Yunjin to the game, the action I think shows her sweeter side and value for the friendship (girl friendships on top ftw)

It was painfully obvious she wanted to ask you something and even more obvious that you wouldn't like her question. You sigh. “Whatever it is, no.” shutting down any ideas she had before she could utter a single word. Her face falls. “But you don’t even—” they're so cute! they're dynamic is like black cat x golden retriever; I think there's something about the chaos yet sweetness that retrievers have that Yunjin displays to me :) I absolutely love their dynamic.

Side comment, a hockey game is 3 HOURS????? WHAT. (we don't have ice hockey here so I'm in surprise and idk how long field hockey games are lol)

“One,” she shoots back, biting back a grin. “And I’ll buy you coffee for a week.” You groan, already regretting this. “Fine,” you grumble, and Yunjin squeals, throwing her arms around you so suddenly you almost topple over. — Yunjin is so cute ahhh

You turn away with a scuff, no way you’d involve yourself with a man who plays hockey. — famous last words lol

Jake grins at Yunjin’s enthusiasm, eyes bright, while Jay salutes her with his drink. — the 2 duos meet hehe :)) I love that both friend pairings have the dynamic I mentioned earlier :) it makes me so happy, like —“I’m suffering.” Your candor had to have been appreciated because the look Jay sent you was one that screamed ‘i agree’. He definitely wasn’t the party type either. Which was almost unheard of when it came to team captains.  — makes this tiny moment so important to me.

Also Hee and reader's first interaction is absolutely hilarious to me, like I feel bad for reader, don't get me wrong, I think it's just the stark difference in their personalities of the bat that make it comical.

“Lee Heeseung.” Your stomach plummets. No. No way. The universe had no mercy. “Wait—what?” You blink at him, hoping you misheard. — Not fate playing with her omg, who would've thought.

You slam your laptop shut with way too much force. "You’re an hour and a half late." — honestly me. I hope this doesn't come off as terrible, like I'm okay if you're a few mins late, but am hour and a half??? respect people and their time pls :((. Oh and Hee's reason makes it worse for me I can't even lie.

The next day, you’re back at the library, sitting across from Kim Sunoo, a bright-eyed freshman who actually wants to learn. — the literal irritation from Hee went by so fast because Sunoo :(((( a cutie

He exhales sharply, dropping into the seat across from you. “I was a dick,” he admits. “I know that. And I’m sorry.” You blink. Lee Heeseung, apologizing? Willingly? You half expect the ceiling to cave in. You narrow your eyes, skeptical. “Are you actually?” — HELLO??? HE APOLOGIZES??? Good on him honestly

“I know, I know,” he says, lips curling up into something that almost looks like a real smile. “I won’t be late.” — I absolutely cannot help but feel soft.

“I know,” she says, eyes widening. “But apparently, his coach barely let him play. He wasn’t one of the ‘favorites,’ you know? So he rode the bench most of the time.” — situation of a shitty coach :/ I guess it explains the behaviour to kind of avoid being a pushover (??) especially since the sports scene is brutal.

No reaction. You tilt your head. “You know, the king who had six wives? England’s most dramatic ruler?” —???? as someone who avoided history in highschool, this is insane news to me (I don't think we learnt British history to that extent where I'm from and mostly focused on their Colonization).

Despite the moment they had before, in terms of his Dad messaging and mention of how was he before — “See? I told you I was a genius,” he says, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. You roll your eyes, forcing yourself to focus. “That was one right answer out of ten, relax.” — this is absolutely hilarious.

And that’s when it happens. His arm presses against yours. His face is too close. And suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything—the warmth of his skin, the scent of his cologne, the way his breath fans lightly over your shoulder. — SCREAMING. I'm such a loser when it comes to Heeseung.

He smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liar.” You bump your shoulder against his without thinking. “Seriously, though. You’re acting different.” Heeseung exhales, looking up at the sky. For a second, you think he won’t answer. — this little moment :( the way reader realized he was more withdrawm and asked if he wanted to get away, crying.

Their little moment at the diner :( I'm so sad, both of them becoming understanding as they have a shitty parent:((

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Interstellar?” Heeseung looks genuinely offended. You roll your eyes. “Sorry, I just never got around to it.” — me and reader are the same, I have never seen Interstellar; in fact most movies I haven't seen💀.

He leans back in his chair, tapping the book against his thigh. “I liked the way Mr. Darcy felt about Elizabeth. That whole ‘I tried not to love you, but I did anyway’ thing? Kinda hits, y’know?” — he can't just say this and get away with it omg.

Something pulses in the space between you—something unfamiliar, something dangerous, something you don’t quite know how to name. Then, before you can react— Heeseung laughs, then he leans forward and kisses you. — OH MY GOD????

He just grins, laughing. “Relax. I just wanted to see you flustered.” Your stomach sinks. — HEESEUNG, why would you say that😭 I'm begging he just phrased it wrong and didn't kiss her because of that.

“No, it wasn’t!” The words come out louder than you intend. Heeseung blinks. Your throat tightens. You stare at the ground, voice quieter now. “That was…my first kiss.” — my poor baby:(

I'm so glad they have their moment and he apologies but —Heeseung seems to immediately regret saying it, his eyes widening. “Only if you wanted—and not now! I mean—just, like, someday. If you ever wanted to, uh—” You stare at him. Then, despite everything, a laugh bubbles up in your throat. — this is the most loser Heeseung has appeared for the entire fic omg😭   

Also it's so cute how we see reader at a game again and she's so much more different, her energy is so much softer and she's just so cute. And the way she stands up for him!!!

“Last night,” he mutters, his jaw clenched. “You stood there, in front of everyone, and defended me like I’m some kind of fucking charity case.” — nooooo😞😞😞😞

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” he interrupts. “I don’t need you to tell people I’m more than hockey. I am hockey.” His eyes darken. “And just because we kissed doesn’t mean you’re my fucking girlfriend.”  — NOOOOOOO😭😭😭😭

Heeseung’s eyes flicker with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?” You swallow. “Then prove it.” His grip on your wrist tightens. And then, suddenly— His lips are on yours. — SCREAMING!!!

You exhale, pressing your lips together. Then, before you can overthink it, you blurt, “I slept with Heeseung.” The silence that follows is deafening. Yunjin just stares at you, chopsticks frozen mid-air. “You what?”  — I'll say it again, I love their friendship fr, I genuinely adore them.

You glance at Yunjin, whose mouth is already set in a furious line. But before you can say anything, she grabs a cup off the table—one full of soda and ice—and without hesitation, throws it straight at Heeseung. — YES YUNJIN YOU GO :// on another note I feel so bad for reader, she (and anyone) for that matter doesn't deserve that.

Heesung is such an idiot —The second it swings open, Heeseung is standing there, wide-eyed, like he wasn’t sure you’d actually do it. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Slowly, he lifts the crumpled test paper in his hand. “I got a hundred” — like I'm so glad he did well but he's an idiot oh my god, boys can be stupid.

A lump forms in your throat. “Then maybe you should figure out what you actually want, Heeseung.” He looks at you, something raw in his expression. “I already know what I want.” But you don’t let yourself believe him. Not yet. So you step back. And this time, when you close the door, you do it gently. And you let yourself cry because that’s the only thing you can control right now. — im going to throw up, I feel so bad ahhh :(

Your stomach twists, half-expecting it to be Heeseung, but when you open the door, it’s Sunoo. “Hey,” he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Yunjin texted me. Said you might need company.” — Sunoo is here again!!!! Also a moment to appreciate Soobin too, he's such a sweetheart:( and another moment to appreciate Sunoo being there and them taking:(( he's such a cutie.

She pulled it out, eyes scanning the screen before she let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh. Soobin left his gloves in the locker room. Can you please grab them for him?” — I already have a bad feeling about this

“Yes,” he admits, and the raw honesty in his voice takes you off guard. “I was scared of how much I cared about you. Scared that you’d realize I wasn’t good enough for you.” — :(((

Your heart pounds. A part of you wants to walk away, to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But another part—maybe the bigger part—wants to believe him. You take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “Okay.” — the endddddd :((((((((

Oh my goodness!! this was amazing. I absolutely loved every moment of this and I just love how the rawness of everything between the 2 was betrayed from start to finish. Rain!! I'm so glad I got to read another work of yours, it was an absolute pleasure and a lovely start to the series :))

COLLIDE l.hs

synopsis ⤑ Hockey boys were nothing but egoistic man boys who threw each other around, chasing a puck for a living. They lacked sustenance, they lived their lives like barbarians and you hated them, and everything they stand for. So being tasked to tutor the worst one of them all? An impossible task. Lee Heeseung was the poster child for a frat boy disaster and you wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Or so you thought. Damnit. 

pairings ⤑ hockey player!heeseung x fem!reader word count ⤑ 19k

warnings ⤑ smut, loss of virginity, fingering, angst, a little bit of back and forth, frat boy activities, hockey, drinking, parties, tutoring trope, heeseung is a fuck boy and he’s kind of a dick, the reader is up tight, Ft. Yunjin (le sserafim), Soobin (txt), fictional relationships between real life idols, etc

crossing the line series.

You hated hockey. It was grueling and animalistic. Almost barbaric. It was not a hot sport and watching big hunks of men throwing each other around a big ice box was so not how you imagined your friday night would be going. But here you were, in the middle of the packed crowd of your college’s home hockey stadium. The arena is a frozen tundra of noise and chaos, packed with fans draped in red and white jerseys, faces painted and voices hoarse from shouting.

Yunjin bounces beside you, practically vibrating with excitement as she elbows your side for the tenth time in five minutes. Her eyes are fixed on the ice, where players crash into each other like it’s a battle to the death. She lives for the thrill of it. Loves coming to most of the games, i think her super hot boyfriend Choi Soobin being on the team really catapults her love for the grueling sport. And as her roommate and best friend you allow her to drag you along, sometimes. 

“You’re gonna love this, I swear,” she insists, clutching her cup of overpriced soda with both hands. “Just wait until Heeseung scores. He’s, like, magic on skates.” You force a smile, but the sound of bodies slamming into the plexiglass makes your fingers tighten around the edge of your seat. The air smells like popcorn and sweat, and the fans behind you won’t stop shrieking obscenities at the referees. You don’t get it—any of it. The violent crashes, the speed, the way grown men bark and snarl at each other over a puck. Sure, Lee Heeseung was considered a star hockey player, one of the best your school has ever seen, they say. But you were impressed, what was so hard about chasing a puck and shoving each other. The announcer’s voice crackles to life, nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. “Goal scored by number seventeen, Lee Heeseung!”

Yunjin screams, leaping to her feet. The arena erupts, deafening, and you flinch as a pack of players smother Heeseung in a mess of helmets and gloves. They slap his back, crush him into the boards, grinning like wolves. You can barely see his face, but his name glows in bold white letters across the screen overhead, followed by a replay of the goal—a blur of motion and ice spray. It was disgusting, and you hated every second of it. You grimace, sinking lower in your seat. “Do they always act like that?” Yunjin was used to your need to abominate hockey and all it was so your question doesn't really phase her much. Yunjin laughs, eyes bright. “It’s called celebrating.” 

“It’s called animalistic,” you mutter, but she doesn’t hear you, too busy cheering with the rest of the lunatics. The game drags on, seconds bleeding into minutes, periods crawling by in a blur of shouts and whistles and obnoxious goal horns. Every time a player crashes into another, you wince. The fights are even worse, gloves dropped and fists flying, the refs standing back like it’s some kind of gladiator match. Your butt is numb from the hard plastic seat, your ears ache, and you’ve never hated anything more. By the time the buzzer finally sounds, you’re half convinced you’ll go deaf before you escape. Yunjin beams at you, cheeks flushed and hair wild from excitement. “See? Wasn’t that amazing?” she gushes, grabbing your arm. “Heeseung was insane! I told you he’s the best.” 

You manage a weak smile. “Uh-huh. Amazing.” Your sarcasm goes basically unnoticed by Yunjin, as she’s too busy celebrating the big win. The crowd around you turn to each other cheering loudly. You have to stop yourself from covering your ears with your palms to drown out the sounds. Finally, mercifully, the game is over. You shuffle out of the bleachers with Yunjin at your side, ears still ringing from the blaring horns and the relentless chants. College kids swarm the exits, jerseys half-zipped and voices hoarse, stumbling over each other as they yell about some after-party to celebrate the big win. You scuff to yourself because of course there is a party. A party you won't be going to. Instead you'll go back to the dorm and relax with a good book and a cup of tea. Lord knows you need it after spending hours in this ice box. 

The hallway is a crush of bodies and echoes, and you’re too busy trying not to get trampled to notice the way Yunjin keeps sneaking glances at you—eyes wide and hopeful, lower lip caught between her teeth. It was painfully obvious she wanted to ask you something and even more obvious that you wouldn't like her question. You sigh. “Whatever it is, no.” shutting down any ideas she had before she could utter a single word. Her face falls. “But you don’t even—” 

“No.” You adjust your bag higher on your shoulder, weaving through a trio of guys who reek of beer and cheap cologne. “I did my time. I sat through three hours of hockey without complaining—much. Can we please just go home?” You craved that night in to yourself. Yunjin grabs your arm, nearly making you stumble. “Okay, but hear me out. There’s a party at the frat house. The whole team’s gonna be there! Come on, it’s not even that far from campus. We can just—”

You cut her off again, rolling your eyes and saying “Absolutely not.” She pouts, eyes big and tragically betrayed. “Please?” begging you. She was begging you. And you couldn't give in. “Nope.” 

“I’ll clean the dorm for a month,” she blurts, and you stop dead in the middle of the hallway. A guy with a blue foam finger scowls as he swerves around you, muttering something rude, but you barely notice. She puts up a tough bargain. Yunjin’s watching you like she’s just offered up her firstborn, palms pressed together in a silent plea. “I’m serious,” she says quickly, sensing you might actually be considering it. “Trash, laundry, dishes—everything. I’ll even organize your bookshelf!” Damn. She was good, she knew how to get you. Your eyes narrow. “Two months.” but you couldn't give up that easily. You had to fight at least a little bit. 

“One,” she shoots back, biting back a grin. “And I’ll buy you coffee for a week.” You groan, already regretting this. “Fine,” you grumble, and Yunjin squeals, throwing her arms around you so suddenly you almost topple over. “You’re the best!” she cries, squeezing tight. “I promise it’ll be fun, I swear! Maybe you’ll even get to talk to Heeseung!” 

​​You snort. “Not interested,” you laugh, prying her off with an eye roll. But your gaze flicks, unbidden, to the ice behind you—where number seventeen is still skating slow laps, head ducked as he talks to a teammate. His laugh is bright enough to catch even from this distance, mouth curved and eyes crinkling at the edges. You turn away with a scuff, no way you’d involve yourself with a man who plays hockey. 

-

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Yunjin squeeze through the front door of the frat house. Music thrums through the walls, loud enough to feel in your chest, and the living room is packed shoulder-to-shoulder with sweaty college kids and empty red cups. Someone’s yelling something unintelligible from the kitchen, and a girl in a sparkly top rushes past, giggling as her friend tries to pull her back by the arm. It was like a playground. You had to stop yourself from cringy as you and Yunjin continued to push through the crowds of people. Your head spinning with irritation at the pure senselessness in the entire house. It was like no one here had half a brain. Yunjin, of course, lights up like a kid in a candy store. Within seconds, she’s weaving her way through the chaos, dragging you along by the wrist. You stumble after her, dodging spilled drinks and people making out against walls, and wonder for the hundredth time how you let her talk you into this. 

Yunjin chats with everyone—absolutely everyone—with a pulse. She flits from one group to another like it’s the easiest thing in the world, tossing compliments and laughter around like confetti. You trail behind her awkwardly, fingers curled around a cup of something you’re too afraid to taste, smiling and nodding when you’re supposed to. Soobin must have not arrived yet so she was filling the gap with randoms until he got here. 

You’re not sure how much time passes—long enough for your feet to start aching and for Yunjin to introduce you to at least fifteen people whose names you instantly forget—when she suddenly gasps, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, Jake!” she squeals, abandoning your arm to dart across the room. “Jay! You guys killed it out there!” You blink, half a step behind as you follow her gaze. Sure enough, Jake and Jay—both still in their team jackets, damp hair pushed back—are leaning against the staircase, laughing about something. Jake grins at Yunjin’s enthusiasm, eyes bright, while Jay salutes her with his drink. 

“Yunjin!” Jake laughs, opening his arms for a hug. “You actually made it! Didn’t think hockey was your roommate’s scene.” His eyes flick to you, warm and teasing. 

“It’s not.” You admit dryly. Jake chuckled, taking a big swig of drink before smirking at you both. “Well still, I bet you enjoyed Heeseung’s killer goal that won us the game. Pretty cool, right?” 

“Sure.” Your answers were deadpan and you could tell you were making them both moderately uncomfortable but you didn't care. You’d much rather be literally anywhere else but here. 

“Aren’t you having fun?” Jay asks, he was more nonchalant than Jake, less outgoing. He leaned against the sink with a lazy look on his face. It almost looked like he’d rather be anywhere else as well. 

“I’m suffering.” Your candor had to have been appreciated because the look Jay sent you was one that screamed ‘i agree’. He definitely wasn’t the party type either. Which was almost unheard of when it came to team captains.  Yunjin rolls her eyes fondly, but she’s already turning back to Jake, leaning in to ask about one of the plays from the game. You’re left to awkwardly clutch your drink, glancing around at the sea of strangers and trying to look less like a lost puppy and more like someone who actually belongs here. After a while of watching Yunjin converse with half the party you had to pee. Finding a bathroom in this massive house would be hard. And asking someone was out of the question, you've had enough socializing for one night. You right yourself preparing to walk among the sea of people in the way of the grand staircase. You clutched your drink in your hand weaving through the crush of bodies. 

Reaching the staircase was no easy task, people were mushed together like a mosh pit. The hallway is somehow even more crowded, people pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and stumbling over each other in varying levels of drunkenness. You mutter apologies, clutching your drink to your chest and scanning the doors for a bathroom sign. There’s a line, of course, stretching halfway down the hall. You bite back a groan and resign yourself to waiting, tapping your foot impatiently and trying to ignore the obnoxious couple behind you sucking face like they might suffocate if they pull apart. You’re glancing at your phone when it happens. One second, you’re minding your own business—the next, someone slams into your side, and your drink splashes straight down your front, soaking your shirt in sticky warmth. 

You freeze, disbelief flaring into white-hot irritation as you look up, ready to rip into whoever’s responsible— only to find Lee Heeseung drunkenly staring back at you with a tight lipped fake apologetic look on his face. It angered you, damn near enraged you. His hair’s mussed, dark eyes hazy and amused, and he’s laughing—actually laughing, low and unbothered—like he didn’t just body-check you into the wall. A girl no taller than you stood beside him hung onto his arm like her life depended on it. Her lipstick slightly smudged and hair ruffled, she looked like a hot mess. 

You blink, rage sharpening like broken glass. “Are you—are you serious right now?” you snap, shoving your empty cup against his chest. “What the hell? Watch where you’re going!” Heeseung just glances down at the cup, brows raising slowly. The girl at his side huffs impatiently, tugging at his arm, but he doesn’t move—just smirks, dark eyes drifting over you in a way that makes your blood boil. “You’re kidding,” you scoff. “Is this funny to you?” 

He tilts his head, grin widening. “Kinda,” he admits, and your jaw drops at his audacity. Where does he get off thinking he's the king of the world? What just because he won himself a game tonight means he’s the hottest thing around? Fuck that. “Oh, screw you,” you snap, swiping futilely at your soaked shirt. “God, just because you’re some hotshot hockey player doesn’t mean the world revolves around you, you know?” 

Heeseung chuckles, a warm, lazy sound that makes you want to punch him right in his stupidly perfect mouth. “Actually,” he drawls, dark eyes glinting, “yeah, it does.” The audacity. Your hands clench, words stuttering uselessly on your tongue, but he’s already turning away—barely even sparing you a second glance as the girl tugs him down the hall, giggling and clinging to his arm. You stare after them, heart hammering with fury, cheeks hot and sticky drink dripping from your clothes. You hate him. You’ve never hated anyone more. 

What seemed like forever soaked in sticky gold liquid, the line to the bathroom started dwindling down until you were the last one to reach it. You storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you harder than necessary. The mirror reflects the full horror of your situation—your shirt is soaked, sticky, and clinging to your skin in the most uncomfortable way possible. The scent of whatever cheap drink was in your cup lingers in the air, and no matter how many paper towels you use, the mess refuses to come off. 

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, aggressively scrubbing at the fabric of your clothing. Your mind replays the scene over and over, fueling your irritation. The smug tilt of Heeseung’s grin, the way he had the nerve to laugh in your face, to dismiss you like you were nothing. Yeah, it does. You grit your teeth so hard your jaw aches. Frustration crackles in your veins as you give up on your shirt and push out of the bathroom. The party is still going strong—music blasting, people shouting over one another, the air thick with sweat and spilled alcohol. You need to find Yunjin, tell her you’re leaving, drag her out of here if you have to. 

But as you weave through the crowd, she’s nowhere to be found. Your irritation shifts into mild concern as you make your way toward the last place you saw her—near the staircase where she’d been laughing with Jake and Jay. Jay’s still there, leaning against the railing, casually sipping his drink as he chats with someone. You march up to him, crossing your arms. “Where’s Yunjin?” 

Jay blinks, glancing over at you. His gaze flicks to your ruined shirt, and his lips twitch like he wants to ask, but wisely, he doesn’t. “Uh, last I saw, she went upstairs with Soobin.” 

Your stomach sinks. “What?” 

He shrugs. “Yeah, like ten minutes ago. Looked pretty cozy.” You inhale sharply, your irritation skyrocketing to full-blown fury. So Yunjin dragged you to this stupid party, bribed you into coming, abandoned you in a sea of sweaty hockey fans, and now she was upstairs with her boyfriend, completely forgetting you existed? Perfect. Just perfect. 

“I’m leaving,” you mutter, spinning on your heel before Jay can respond. You shove your phone out of your pocket, pulling up the Uber app as you push your way through the crowd, biting down the urge to scream. By the time you make it outside, the cold air is a welcome slap to your overheated skin. You stand on the curb, shivering slightly, arms crossed tight over your chest as you wait for your ride. Tonight was supposed to be chill instead, you’re suffering through a hockey game, putting up with Yunjin’s antics, dealing with a party full of people you didn’t know. But somehow, he had to make it worse. Lee Heeseung. You scowl at the thought of him, jaw clenching. If the universe had any mercy, you’d never have to see him again. 

-

Turns out the universe had no mercy at all. Not even an ounce. The next day, you’re still in a sour mood. You spent all night scrubbing your shirt, trying to get rid of the sticky residue and the memory of Lee Heeseung’s stupid smirk. Even after showering twice, you swear you can still smell the drink on your skin. But at least you’re back in your element now—your history class, where you TA. The classroom is empty except for Professor Kim, who looks up as you walk in, giving you a polite smile. 

“Ah, good, you’re here,” he says, flipping through some papers on his desk. “I have a favor to ask. I know you tutor in your free time, and we have a student who’s in desperate need of help.” 

You nod automatically. “Of course. You know I don’t mind tutoring.” 

“That’s great to hear,” he says, looking relieved. “Because this student is failing, and if he doesn’t get his grade up, he’ll be ineligible to play.” You barely register his words, still waiting for a name. Then he glances down at his notes and says it. 

“Lee Heeseung.” Your stomach plummets. No. No way. The universe had no mercy. “Wait—what?” You blink at him, hoping you misheard. 

Professor Kim sighs. “Heeseung’s been struggling all semester. I gave him a warning last week, but his last exam was a disaster. If he doesn’t pass the next one, he’s off the team.” You open your mouth to protest, to say literally anyone else but him, but before you can get a word out, the door swings open, and in comes the bane of your existence. 

Lee Heeseung strolls in like he owns the place, pushing his hair back as he yawns. His hoodie is wrinkled, his backpack is barely slung over one shoulder, and he looks every bit like someone who definitely did not wake up in time for his morning classes. “Sorry, sorry,” he drawls, not sounding sorry at all. “Rough night.” 

You scoff before you can stop yourself. “I’m sure it was.” At the sound of your voice, Heeseung’s gaze slides lazily to you, and then—his lips curl. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face, and you immediately hate it. 

Wait.” He tilts his head. “You’re my tutor?” He says in a mocking way, he’s making fun of you. 

You cross your arms. “Unfortunately.” Heeseung clicks his tongue, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Damn. Lucky me.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes straight into another dimension. “Not so lucky for me,” you mutter. Professor Kim clears his throat. “So, you’ll meet twice a week until the next exam. I’ll leave the schedule up to you both, but I strongly recommend you start immediately.” You glare at Heeseung, who doesn’t seem remotely concerned about the fact that his academic career is hanging by a thread. Instead, he leans against the desk, watching you with amusement. 

“Well, tutor,” he says, voice dripping with mock politeness. “When do you want me?” You open your mouth, then shut it. Heeseung’s smirk deepens, clearly enjoying the way you bristle. “Tomorrow at five,” you grit out. 

“Perfect.” He pushes off the desk, stretching before making his way toward the door. Just as he reaches it, he glances over his shoulder, that irritating smirk still in place. “Try not to miss me too much until then,” he says, and then he’s gone. You stare after him, absolutely floored by his audacity. “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” you mutter under your breath. 

By the time you make it back to your dorm, you’re fuming. Your entire walk across campus had been spent replaying your conversation with Heeseung, each smug smirk and cocky remark igniting your anger all over again. Of all people, why did it have to be him? You shove open the door, throwing your bag to the floor with a little more force than necessary. "Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable," you mutter, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Yunjin and Soobin are sprawled out on the futon, a half-empty bag of chips between them as some random drama plays on the screen. It’s the first time you’ve seen Yunjin since she abandoned you at the party, and the second she looks up at you, she must sense the storm brewing in your expression. “Uh…” She blinks. “What’s wrong?” 

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Oh, I don’t know, Yunjin—maybe the fact that you ditched me last night?” 

Yunjin’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh my God.” She sits up, looking genuinely guilty. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I just—Soobin showed up, and—” 

“Yeah, I know,” you snap, glaring at Soobin, who at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Jay told me you ran off with him ten minutes after we got there. You know, after I suffered through a hockey game for you.” Yunjin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “You’re right. That was a shitty best friend move. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.” 

You roll your eyes, collapsing onto your desk chair. “Yeah, yeah.” You wave her off, still annoyed but too exhausted to keep the argument going. “That’s not even the worst part.” 

She tilts her head. “What do you mean?” You exhale sharply, rubbing your temples. “I have to tutor Lee Heeseung.” 

Yunjin’s jaw drops. Soobin raises an eyebrow. “What?” she asks, sitting up straighter. 

“Yeah. Apparently, he’s failing history, and if he doesn’t pass his next exam, he’s off the team,” you huff. “Professor Kim roped me into tutoring him before I even knew who it was.” 

Yunjin snorts, clearly fighting a laugh. “Oh, that’s hilarious.” 

“It’s not!” You glare at her. “You don’t understand—he’s a dick. He’s entitled, arrogant, and walks around like the whole world revolves around him.” Soobin hums, popping a chip into his mouth. “Heeseung’s not that bad.” 

You whip your head toward him. “Are you serious?” Who asked him? He shrugs. “I mean, yeah, he can be cocky, but he’s actually pretty chill once you get to know him.” 

Yunjin nods in agreement. “Yeah, he’s nice. I’ve talked to him a few times. He’s always been cool.” 

Your mouth drops open. “Okay, no. You guys don’t get it. You didn’t see him at the party last night.”

Soobin raises an eyebrow. “What happened?” You launch into a full-blown rant, recounting every infuriating detail. “I was minding my business, just trying to use the bathroom, when he and some random girl bumped into me. I spilled my drink all over myself because they were too busy making out to notice other human beings existed. And when I called him out on it, do you know what he did?” Yunjin and Soobin both stare, waiting. 

“He laughed. He laughed in my face and said, ‘Yes, it does,’ when I told him the world doesn’t revolve around him!” You threw your hands in the air in exasperation. Yunjin lets out a low whistle. “Oof.” 

“Right?” You throw your hands up. “And now I have to spend actual time with him, tutoring him like he’s some helpless little idiot who can’t read a history book!” Soobin chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds like he got under your skin.” 

You scoff. “No. He’s just the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.” Yunjin exchanges a look with Soobin before turning back to you with an all-too-knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

“Nothing,” she singsongs. “I just think this tutoring thing is gonna be very interesting.” 

The next day, you show up at the library exactly at five. You even get there a few minutes early because, unlike some people, you actually value punctuality. You find a table in the back, away from the louder study groups, and start setting up—pulling out your notes, opening your laptop, lining up your highlighters like the responsible student you are. Then, you sit back and wait for Lee Heeseung to show up. 

And wait.

And wait.

You check the time. 5:15. You exhale sharply through your nose, forcing yourself to stay calm. Maybe he’s just running late. Maybe he got held up. Maybe— 5:30. Okay, seriously? You shoot him a quick text, nothing too aggressive. Just a simple: “Hey, you coming?” Nothing. Not a single response. 

5:45. Your patience is wearing paper-thin. You stare at your phone screen, resisting the urge to type out something way more aggressive. Maybe something like: “If you were planning on wasting my time, you could have at least had the decency to tell me instead of making me sit here like an idiot.” Or better yet: “Fuck you.” 

By now, you’re fuming. Your fingers drum aggressively against the table as you glare at the empty seat across from you, debating whether you should just leave. Clearly, he has no intention of showing up. 6:30. That’s it. You’re done. You shove your notebook into your bag, ready to storm out and text Professor Kim that you refuse to tutor an insufferable jackass, when— a voice behind you mutters a simple “Hey.” 

You slowly turn around, already brimming with rage, and there he is—Lee Heeseung, strolling in like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. He drops into the seat across from you, stretching his arms behind his head with the kind of casual arrogance that makes you want to throw something at him. "Sorry I’m late," he says. Not actually sounding sorry at all. 

You slam your laptop shut with way too much force. "You’re an hour and a half late." 

Heeseung just shrugs. "Yeah, my bad. I had practice. Then I had to change. And, y’know, eat. Then I ran into some people…" Your eye twitches at his nonchalant attitude “And at no point did it occur to you to let me know?” 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t understand why you’re so worked up. "Didn’t think it was that big of a deal." You inhale so sharply your lungs burn. "Not that big of a—" You cut yourself off, pressing your hands against the table to ground yourself because if you don’t, you might actually throw your water bottle at his stupid, smug face.

Heeseung just watches you with lazy amusement, clearly not taking this seriously. “Don’t be so uptight,” he says, flipping open his empty notebook like he actually plans on doing anything. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

Oh. oh something inside of you snaps. You can’t help the next words that leave your mouth and to be quite honest you don’t know if you care much anyway. “Oh, fuck off Heeseung.” 

Heeseung pauses, blinks, then smirks. “What?” 

"You heard me." You stand up, grabbing your bag. "I don’t have time for your arrogant, self-important bullshit. If you actually cared about passing this class, you’d take it seriously instead of acting like you’re doing me a favor by showing up." His smirk doesn’t even falter. If anything, it deepens. “Damn,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t know you were this feisty.” 

You glare. “And I didn’t know you were this much of a dick. But here we are.” 

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re kinda cute when you’re mad.” oh. That’s it. You’re officially done. 

You shove your notebook into your bag so aggressively you nearly rip the zipper, and without another word, you storm out of the library. You can hear him laughing behind you. Actually Laughing. And you swear—you swear—you’ve never wanted to strangle someone more in your entire life. 

The next day, you’re back at the library, sitting across from Kim Sunoo, a bright-eyed freshman who actually wants to learn. Unlike some people. You tap your highlighter against the open textbook, explaining a key point about the causes of the Industrial Revolution. Sunoo nods eagerly, his face lighting up in understanding. “Ohhh, that makes so much sense now! I swear, I was staring at this for hours last night and none of it clicked.” 

You smile despite yourself. “It’s easier when someone explains it out loud, huh?” 

Sunoo grins. “Way easier. You’re really good at this, noona.” 

You chuckle. “It’s literally just history.” 

“Yeah, but you make it less boring,” he says, scribbling notes as fast as he can. “I actually feel like I might pass this exam now.” Before you can respond, a shadow falls over your table. And suddenly, the lightheartedness of the moment is gone. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. The air shifts, tension creeping in like a slow-moving storm. 

Sunoo notices before you do. His eyes flick upward, widening slightly. “Uh—” 

“Hey” 

You sigh. The last thing you need right now is him. Slowly, you look up. Lee Heeseung stands there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking at you with something that is not his usual cocky amusement. His posture is relaxed, but there’s an awkwardness to it—like he’s not used to whatever he’s about to do. 

You cross your arms over your chest. “What do you want?” 

“I want to talk.” His gaze flickers to Sunoo. “Alone.” Sunoo, to his credit, looks between the two of you and seems to decide that this is not his business. He hurriedly starts shoving his books into his bag. “Oh! Yeah, of course, I—” You shoot Heeseung an annoyed look. “We’re in the middle of something.” 

Sunoo waves a hand. “No, no, it’s fine! I was about to go anyway.” He flashes you a grateful smile. “Thanks for the help! I’ll see you next week?” You nod, still frowning as you watch him scurry off like he just escaped something dangerous. Which, honestly? Fair. Then, you turn back to Heeseung. You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, waiting. “Well?” 

Heeseung exhales, looking almost uncomfortable. He shifts his weight, raking a hand through his hair before finally meeting your eyes. "Look… about last night…" 

Your eyebrows lift. “You mean the hour and a half I spent waiting for you? Or the part where you acted like a complete asshole?” He winces, lowering his eyes to the floor. “Yeah. That.” You don’t say anything. You let the silence stretch between you, let him sit in it. And for the first time since meeting him, Heeseung actually looks nervous. 

He exhales sharply, dropping into the seat across from you. “I was a dick,” he admits. “I know that. And I’m sorry.” You blink. Lee Heeseung, apologizing? Willingly? You half expect the ceiling to cave in. You narrow your eyes, skeptical. “Are you actually?” 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I am.” He leans forward slightly, his voice lower now. Sincere even. “Look, I need this. I need to pass. If I don’t, I can’t play.” Something flickers across his face when he says it—something restrained. You get the feeling he’s hating admitting this to you, like asking for help isn’t something he’s ever had to do before. You study him, watching the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tap against the table like he’s restless. For once, there’s no arrogance in his expression. No teasing smirk. Just… Lee Heeseung, stripped of his usual bullshit.

You hate that it actually works. That a small part of you softens. But still, you’re not letting him off that easy. “I’ll be on time,” he says, his voice firmer now. “I’ll take it seriously. Just… give me another chance.” 

You tilt your head, considering. “And if you don’t?” He exhales through his nose. “Then you can tell Professor Kim to find me another tutor. You’ll never have to deal with me again.” You hesitate, watching him. You want to say no. Want to tell him to find someone else, that you don’t owe him anything. But at the same time… you do love tutoring. And despite everything, you’d hate to see someone fail because of their own stupid pride. Even if that someone is Lee Heeseung. 

So, against your better judgment, you sigh. “Fine,” you say, and immediately he brightens. But you hold up a finger. “But if you pull that shit again, I’m done. No second chances.”

He nods immediately. “Got it.” 

You squint. “I mean it, Heeseung. One more time, and I’m out.” 

“I know, I know,” he says, lips curling up into something that almost looks like a real smile. “I won’t be late.” You purse your lips, still doubtful. “We’ll see.” Heeseung stands up, stretching. “Five sharp, yeah?” 

“Five sharp.” 

A slow smirk spreads across his face. “Yes, ma’am.” 

You roll your eyes and start gathering your things. “See, this is exactly what I mean.” 

He chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. No teasing. I’ll be good.” Somehow, you highly doubt that. As he walks away, hands stuffed in his pockets, you watch him go, feeling a mixture of irritation and reluctant curiosity. Because for all his bullshit, for all his cocky, self-important assholery… A small, tiny part of you is curious to see if he’ll actually change. And you hate that. So much. 

That night, you and Yunjin fall into your usual routine—Chinese takeout, pajama shorts, and an unnecessary rewatch of Grey’s Anatomy. The apartment is warm, dimly lit by the soft glow of your laptop screen. The air smells like sweet and sour chicken, and your chopsticks lazily poke at your carton of lo mein as Yunjin lies sprawled across the couch beside you. “I still can’t believe you’re actually tutoring Heeseung,” she says around a mouthful of fried rice. 

You groan, letting your head fall back against the couch. “Don’t remind me.” 

“You hate him.” Yunjin continues. 

“Exactly! Which is why this is actual hell for me.” You huff, setting your carton down on the coffee table. “He’s such a dick. He thinks the world revolves around him just because he’s good at hockey.” 

Yunjin hums, twirling a noodle around her chopstick. “Soobin says he’s not actually that bad.” You scoff. “Oh, of course Soobin would say that. Heeseung’s his teammate.” 

Yunjin shrugs. “Yeah, but like�� he really meant it. Heeseung’s just—” She pauses, pursing her lips like she’s debating whether or not to say something. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

Yunjin sighs, setting her food down. “Soobin told me something about him. A story, actually.” You blink. “About Heeseung?” 

She nods, sitting up a little.  “Do you wanna hear it?” You hesitate, rolling your eyes. “Do I need to?” 

Yunjin grins. “Oh, absolutely.” 

You groan, but you can’t deny that you’re a little curious. You grab your drink, leaning back against the couch. “Fine. Spill.” 

Yunjin sits up even more, tucking her legs beneath her. “Soobin told me that back in high school, Heeseung wasn’t—like—this.” She gestures vaguely. “He wasn’t popular. Or cocky. Or even a star player.” 

​​You raise an eyebrow in disbelief. “What do you mean? He’s insanely good.” 

“I know,” she says, eyes widening. “But apparently, his coach barely let him play. He wasn’t one of the ‘favorites,’ you know? So he rode the bench most of the time.” That… does surprise you. The Lee Heeseung you know is the player everyone talks about, the guy who steals the spotlight like it was made for him. The idea of him sitting on the sidelines, ignored, is hard to imagine. 

“One day,” Yunjin continues, “one of the team’s star players got hurt before a big game. They had to put Heeseung in, and—” she snaps her fingers “—just like that, he destroyed everyone.” You blink. Surprised, this was not what you were expecting at all. 

“He played so well that the entire crowd went nuts. Coaches were watching. He basically stole the game, and after that? He got a full-ride scholarship. Just like that.” Your brows knit together, trying to picture it. “But after that game,” Yunjin says, tilting her head, “he changed. Like, overnight.” 

You frown. “What do you mean?” She exhales, leaning against the couch. “I mean he stopped being the quiet kid. He got stronger, started training harder. And when he got to college? Boom. Whole new personality. He’s loud, cocky, untouchable.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, that part tracks.” 

Yunjin gives you a look. “But don’t you get it? He had to change. He was treated like nothing for years, and the second he proved himself, he made sure no one would ever look down on him again.” You chew on your lip, staring at the flickering light of the laptop screen. You don’t know what to do with that information. Because it’s easier to hate Heeseung when he’s just an arrogant, self-absorbed jock. When he’s just some guy who gets on your nerves. But now there’s a reason behind it. And you hate that it makes you see him differently. 

The next day, when you step into the library, you expect to wait. You expect to sit down, go through your notes, tap your fingers against the table while checking the time, wondering how long you should stay before giving up. But Heeseung is already there And it throws you off.

He’s slouched in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, head tilted down as he stares at his phone. His brows are furrowed, lips pressed together, his thumb hovering over the screen but never quite moving. It’s an expression you’re not used to seeing on him. Tense. Quiet. Serious. It doesn’t suit him. 

You shake it off, forcing yourself to walk over. You pull out your chair with a sharp scrape against the floor and drop your books onto the table. Loudly. Nothing. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and sit down. “Alright, we’re starting with Henry the Eighth today.” 

No reaction. You tilt your head. “You know, the king who had six wives? England’s most dramatic ruler?” Still, nothing. Your patience thins. “What’s more important than not failing?” At that, he finally looks up, but instead of the usual lazy amusement or mild irritation, his expression is sharp. 

“Mind your own business,” he snaps. It hits you like a slap. Of all the things you expected, that wasn’t one of them. 

You straighten, gripping the edge of the table, surprised by the coldness in his voice. Heeseung has been many things since you met him—cocky, arrogant, insufferable—but he’s never been cruel. You inhale sharply, already pushing back your chair. “Okay. If you don’t wanna be here, I’m not wasting my time—” 

“Wait.” The word is rushed, almost desperate, and before you can leave, Heeseung finally puts his phone down. He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly through his nose. “It’s just my dad,” he mutters, like that should be enough of an explanation. You hesitate, watching the way his jaw ticks, the way his fingers tap restlessly against the table. 

“What about him?” you ask, voice softer than before. Heeseung doesn’t look at you. “He was just asking how the season’s going. That’s it.” You study him for a moment, something itching at the back of your mind. This is the first time Heeseung has ever looked like this. Quiet. Withdrawn. Like his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. And last night, you learned something about him—something you never would’ve guessed on your own. 

You shift in your seat, glancing at your open notebook before closing it. “You know…” You trail off, choosing your words carefully. “I heard a story about you.” Heeseung blinks, his gaze flicking to yours. “What?” 

“I heard that back in high school, you weren’t allowed to play much,” you say. “And that when you finally got your shot, you proved everyone wrong.” His entire body stiffens. For a second, you think he’s going to let you keep talking, but then his expression hardens. His lips press together, his fingers stop tapping, and suddenly, the coldness is back. 

“Don’t,” he says flatly. You frown. “I just—” 

He cuts you off with his stern voice. A terrify you didn't want to wander “I said don’t.” It’s sharp, cutting, final. The look in his eyes makes it clear that whatever conversation you were hoping to have? It’s not happening. Your stomach twists, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, unsure if you should apologize or pretend like you never said anything at all. For a moment, the silence is heavy. Unbearable. 

Then Heeseung sighs, running a hand over his face. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. “Just… drop it.” You swallow hard, nodding slowly. “Right,” you murmur, flipping open your book again. “Henry the Eighth.” For a second, you think he won’t even pretend to pay attention. But then he leans forward, picking up a pencil and tapping it against the table. And this time, when you start talking, he actually listens. 

Over the next few weeks you and Heesseung began to find some kind of rhythm that worked for the both of you. And after no time Heeseung was back to usual self. Being extremely and unavoidably annoying. But it was clear to you that all your tutoring sessions were starting to pay off, he was actually learning the material and he..seemed to like it. 

The moment stretches—just a second too long. Your hand lingers against his, warmth seeping through the space between your fingers. It’s stupid. It’s just a high-five. Something you’ve done a thousand times with other people. But when you pull away, you can still feel the ghost of his touch, like it left an imprint. Heeseung’s smirk flickers, something unreadable flashing across his face. But then, just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by his usual cocky grin. 

“See? I told you I was a genius,” he says, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. You roll your eyes, forcing yourself to focus. “That was one right answer out of ten, relax.” 

“An improvement, though.” He points at you like he’s proving a point. “You should be proud. I might actually be learning something.” You scoff, gathering your notes, but your stomach twists in a way you don’t quite understand. Something is different.And you’re not sure what to do about it. One Part of you is scared, another part is excited. And that fear continues to grow the more time you spend with Heeseung. 

The study room is too small. Or maybe it just feels that way because Heeseung takes up too much space—not physically, but in the way he leans back in his chair like he owns the place, the way his presence seems to stretch and fill every available inch. The air is thick with the scent of his cologne—something clean, sharp, a little woodsy—and you hate that you notice it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re sitting way too close. Your knees bump under the table every time one of you shifts. His arm brushes yours when he reaches for his pencil. The tiny room makes every movement magnified, every accidental touch unavoidable. 

You try to focus. You clear your throat and point to your notes. “Okay, so if you actually want to pass this test, you need to remember the causes of the French Revolution.” Heeseung hums, leaning forward. “Right. The people were pissed.” You deadpan. “And why were they pissed?” 

“Uh…” He chews the end of his pencil, eyes flicking to the page in front of you. “Something about taxes?” You exhale. “Something about taxes,” you echo, circling the words in your notes. “Yes. Specifically, the Third Estate—” Before you can finish, Heeseung shifts, leaning over your shoulder to get a better look at your writing. And that’s when it happens. His arm presses against yours. His face is too close. And suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything—the warmth of his skin, the scent of his cologne, the way his breath fans lightly over your shoulder.

You force yourself to stay still, to not react. “You have really messy handwriting,” Heeseung murmurs, completely oblivious to the absolute chaos in your brain. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that his voice is lower, softer in the quiet of the study room. “Maybe if you actually wrote your own notes, you wouldn’t have to suffer through mine.” 

“I like yours better,” he says, smirking. You scuff, shoving your notebook toward him. “Then read them yourself, genius.” 

He laughs, finally leaning back, and you exhale—only now realizing you were holding your breath. It was nothing. Just an accidental touch. And yet your heart is pounding out of your chest. You shake it off, clearing your throat. “Okay. Back to the revolution.” Heeseung smirks like he knows something you don’t. But he doesn’t say a word. And somehow that’s worse. 

The party is loud—too loud, too chaotic, too much. You don't even know whose house this is. The bass is thumping through the floor, the air is thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and way too much cologne. Yunjin, as always, is in her element, talking to literally anyone with a pulse, dragging you around as she bounces between groups of people. You don’t even know why she drags you along to these things if she’s not even going to stay with you. 

You're scouting your surroundings when you see him. Lee Heeseung. But he’s not like he usually is, No cocky smirk, no playful teasing, no girls clinging to his arm. He looks… different. Closed off even. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, a red Solo cup dangling from his fingers, but his eyes are unfocused, staring off at nothing. The usual arrogance in his posture is missing. He just looks… tired. 

You hesitate. Normally, you’d avoid him. You’re not sure why you don’t this time. Maybe it’s because he’s alone, or maybe it’s because this version of him—the one that isn’t performing, isn’t playing up his reputation—intrigues you. So you walk over, crossing your arms. “No girl hanging off you tonight?” Heeseung barely reacts at first. He blinks, like he’s just noticing you, then shrugs. “Not in the mood.” 

That’s not the response you expect. Usually, he’d fire back with something smug, something flirty, something to get a rise out of you. Instead, his voice is flat. You glance at him, studying his expression. His usual lightheartedness is gone, replaced with something heavier, something clouded. His fingers tighten around the cup, his jaw shifts slightly, and he isn’t looking at you. Something’s on his mind. And for some reason, you care. 

“…You wanna get out of here?” The words slip out before you can stop them. Heeseung finally looks at you. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—surprise, curiosity, maybe even relief. And for a second, you think he’s going to brush you off, flash you that smirk and tell you not to flatter yourself. But instead, he nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.” 

Outside, the night air is cold, but it feels… lighter. You walk side by side down the street, neither of you saying anything at first. The party fades behind you, the music growing distant, replaced by the quiet hum of the night. It’s weird. You’ve never been alone with Heeseung outside of the library. You’re used to him in controlled environments—study sessions, parties where he’s surrounded by people, the ice where he’s the star. Not like this. Not just… walking.

“You okay?” you ask eventually. Heeseung huffs a laugh, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Didn’t think you cared.” You roll your eyes. “I don’t.”

He smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liar.” You bump your shoulder against his without thinking. “Seriously, though. You’re acting different.” Heeseung exhales, looking up at the sky. For a second, you think he won’t answer. But then—

“It’s nothing,” he says. “Just hockey stuff.”

You frown. “You’re always dealing with hockey stuff.”

“Yeah, well.” He pauses. “It’s my whole life.”

You glance at him, watching the way his features harden, his usual carefree exterior cracking just enough for you to see through. And you remember what Yunjin told you—that he wasn’t always the hotshot, that he had to claw his way to the top. You don’t push him. Instead, you say, “Wanna grab food?” He blinks. “At this hour?”

“Diner down the street’s open late,” you say. “And you look like you could use pancakes.” Heeseung huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. But then he looks at you—really looks at you. And something shifts. “…Yeah,” he says, nudging you with his elbow. “Let’s get pancakes.” And just like that, the night takes on a different shape. 

The diner is the kind of place that always smells like coffee and syrup, no matter what time of day it is. The booths are cracked with age, the neon sign outside flickers every few seconds, and there’s a quiet hum of old music playing through the speakers. It’s not fancy. But it’s warm, and right now, it’s exactly what you need. Heeseung slides into the booth across from you, stretching out his legs so they nearly brush against yours. You don’t know if he does it on purpose or if he just takes up that much space. You ignore it. 

A waitress comes by, barely looking at either of you as she takes your order—pancakes, coffee, extra whipped cream. Heeseung raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “What?” you challenge. “I told you. Pancakes fix everything.” 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. But there’s something softer about him now. Not in the way he usually teases you—this feels different. And then the moment settles into a more calm setting. You lean forward, resting your arms on the table. “So,” you say, tilting your head. “Wanna talk about it?” 

You expect him to dodge the question, maybe throw out some sarcastic remark to avoid actually telling you what’s going on. But for the second time that night, Lee Heeseung surprises you. He exhales, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier than before. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet. “My dad found out about my grades.” Your stomach twists. You already have a bad feeling about where this is going. 

Heeseung lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “He says if I’m gonna throw my entire hockey career away for some stupid class, then I don’t deserve his financial support anymore.” He pauses, staring down at the table. “Says I should ‘get my priorities straight.’” Your heart clenches. You should’ve expected something like this. It’s not uncommon—parents putting pressure on their kids, pushing them toward success, expecting perfection. But something about the way Heeseung says it, the way his voice drops just a little at the end… You know that feeling. 

“I just—” Heeseung exhales harshly, gripping his fork a little too tight. “I never feel like I’m enough for them, you know?” 

You don’t even think. You just say it. “I do.” 

Heeseung blinks, lifting his gaze to meet yours. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but you push through. “My mom and I don’t talk anymore,” you admit. “She didn’t approve of me getting a history degree. She wanted me to go into the family business with them.” You let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “When I didn’t, she basically—shunned me. Acted like I was a disappointment. Like I wasn’t worth her time anymore.” Heeseung stares at you, expression unreadable. You feel like you should keep talking, should fill the silence, but then Heeseung leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. His gaze softens. 

“That’s fucked up,” he says, voice quieter now. 

You shrug, picking at the edge of your napkin. “Yeah, well. It is what it is.” There’s a pause. Then— “I don’t think it is,” Heeseung mutters. You look at him, and for the first time since you met him, you realize that Lee Heeseung isn’t just some cocky, aggravating hockey star. He’s a person. A person with his own struggles, his own fears, his own wounds. The realization shifts something inside you. The waitress comes by, sliding plates of pancakes in front of you, breaking the moment. Heeseung blinks, like he’s shaking himself out of whatever just passed between you, and you do the same. 

You don’t kiss. You don’t hold hands. You don’t even bring the topic up again, but the both of you feel it. Something was different. 

You glance at the time on your phone and exhale sharply, tapping your fingers against the table. Heeseung is late. Again. It’s been twenty minutes, and you’ve already convinced yourself that if he’s not here in five more, you’re leaving. To say you were disappointed would be an understatement, you were more sad than anything. You had thought that the two of you had made some much progress. You’re mid-internal rant about how utterly irresponsible he is when you hear the sound of hurried footsteps. 

“I know, I know,” Heeseung says before you can even open your mouth. He holds up both hands in mock surrender, slightly out of breath. “Before you rip my head off, I brought you something.” You narrow your eyes as he slides a coffee cup and a neatly wrapped pastry across the table. 

You hesitate, suspicious. “What is this?” 

“A peace offering,” Heeseung says with a grin. “Your favorite, by the way. Thought it might keep you from murdering me in cold blood.” Your lips part slightly, surprised. “How do you even know my order?” 

He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “You get it every time we go to the campus café. Not that hard to remember.” You press your lips together, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach does a weird little flip at that. Instead, you roll your eyes and mutter, “Still an asshole,” before taking the cup. 

Heeseung chuckles, sliding into the seat across from you. “Yeah, yeah. But at least I’m a thoughtful asshole.” You’re about to start the tutoring session when a static-filled announcement echoes through the library speakers. “Attention, students: The library will be closing early tonight due to a scheduled event. Please begin packing up your belongings.” 

You blink, glancing at Heeseung, who’s already stuffing his books back into his bag. He shrugs. “Guess we’re taking this somewhere else.” 

“Wait!” You call out. “Where are we going?” You ask him, beginning to pack up your own things. 

“Just come with me.” He says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You huff but follow after him like he said, through the crowd of people also leaving the library. 

You’re not sure how it happens, but twenty minutes later, you’re sitting across from Heeseung in a quiet corner of a late-night café, your books barely touched. At first, you try to focus on history. You really do. But for once, Heeseung isn’t the one slacking off—you are. The conversation drifts. It’s not about Henry VIII or the French Revolution anymore. It’s about movies. 

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Interstellar?” Heeseung looks genuinely offended. You roll your eyes. “Sorry, I just never got around to it.” 

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Unbelievable. You call yourself educated?” You nudge his foot under the table. “Pretty sure history knowledge is more important than knowing a random space movie.” 

“First of all,” he says, holding up a finger, “it’s not just a ‘random space movie.’ It’s a cinematic masterpiece.” 

You snort. “Didn’t take you for the type to get passionate over movies.” Heeseung sends you a smirk, one that you had to admit made you feel mushy inside. What was happening to you? “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” And for some reason, you find yourself wanting to change that. Then the conversation shifts again. This time, it’s about childhood. 

You tell him about how you used to sneak into your grandfather’s study to read history books that were way too advanced for you, even though you were explicitly told not to. Heeseung tells you about how he used to skate on a frozen pond near his childhood home, even when it wasn’t completely frozen over. “Nearly drowned once,” he admits with a laugh. “Didn’t stop me from going back the next week.” 

You shake your head. “That explains so much about you.” The conversation flows too easily. The barriers that were once so firm between you are now… blurred. It scares yet excites you at the same time. At some point, you notice Heeseung looking at you for a little too long. His eyes flicker over your face, his smirk settling into something softer. Something unreadable. It has your heart pounding and your palms sweaty. You felt like one of those rom com heroines that were head over heels in love with the witty Jock. What were you doing? Lee Heeseung was so not your type. Hockey players were so not your type. 

“You know,” he muses, tilting his head, “this kinda feels like a date.” Your breath catches in your throat. 

You scoff, trying to ignore the sudden warmth in your face. “In what world?” 

Heeseung grins, leaning forward slightly. “Come on. Late-night café, deep conversation, stolen glances.” He raises a brow. “You sure you don’t feel it?” Your heart stumbles. You don’t know what to say. So you shift the topic into something more casual but still you don’t miss the knowing smirk on Heeseung’s face, like he knew the effect he had on you and he liked it. And a part of you liked it too.. 

The next day, you and Heeseung are back at the library, tucked into your usual corner. The energy between you is… normal. The way it always is. You tell yourself that last night at the café meant nothing. That Heeseung’s words—this kinda feels like a date—were just him messing with you, the way he always does. So you push it away, bury yourself in your notes, and act like everything is the same. 

And for the most part, it is. Heeseung slouches in his chair, tapping his pencil against the table in boredom while you attempt to drill historical facts into his thick skull. He groans dramatically when you ask him a question. He teases you when you sigh in exasperation. Everything is normal. Until— 

“What’s this?” Heeseung suddenly reaches into your bag and pulls out a slightly worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. You blink. “Uh, my book?” 

Heeseung raises a brow. “You’re one of those people?” 

You cross your arms. “What does that mean? A person who reads?” 

He grins, flipping through the pages. “Y’know. The ones who are obsessed with Mr. Darcy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I like the book because it’s well-written. Not because I’m obsessed with some brooding 19th-century man.” Heeseung hums, still turning the pages. “Mm. I liked it, too.” 

You stare at him. “What?” No way a guy like Lee Heeseung read and liked Pride and prejudice. 

He looks up, amused. “What?” 

“You read it?” 

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah. Had to for a class in high school.” 

You’re genuinely shocked. You don’t know why—Heeseung surprises you more often than you’d like to admit. But for some reason, the image of him reading Pride and Prejudice is not one you ever expected. “What did you think?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

He leans back in his chair, tapping the book against his thigh. “I liked the way Mr. Darcy felt about Elizabeth. That whole ‘I tried not to love you, but I did anyway’ thing? Kinda hits, y’know?” 

Your breath catches. Because the way he says it..It’s not teasing, it’s not sarcastic, it's not a joke. The air shifts between you and for a minute you just stare at each other, saying nothing but so many things all at once. Something pulses in the space between you—something unfamiliar, something dangerous, something you don’t quite know how to name. Then, before you can react— Heeseung laughs, then he leans forward and kisses you. 

It’s quick. Just a press of his lips against yours. Light, fleeting. Like it’s nothing. Like it’s a joke. Something so trivial you do with the everyday person, something with no meaning. And it takes you a second to process what just happened before the reality of it slams into you like a freight train. You shove him back. Hard. “What the hell, Heeseung?” Your voice shakes with anger. 

He just grins, laughing. “Relax. I just wanted to see you flustered.” Your stomach sinks. To him it was a joke, kissing me was a joke to see me– Flustered? That was funny to him? You don’t even realize your hands are shaking until you grab your things and shove them into your bag. Your chest feels tight. Your vision blurs. Because it wasn't a joke to you. You didn't enjoy being the punchline to someone's entertainment. “Hey, where are you—” But you don’t let him finish. You walk out. 

You make it all the way out of the library before the first tear falls. You hate yourself for it. Hate that you’re crying. Hate that you’re letting Heeseung get to you. But you can't help it. That was your first kiss. And he stole it from you. It wasn't special, it wasn't meaningful if anything it was the opposite. It was just a joke. A way for Heeseung to entertain himself. You wipe your face harshly, forcing yourself to breathe. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That it’s not a big deal. That it’s fine. But it’s not. 

You’re halfway across campus when you hear footsteps behind you. “Wait—wait,” Heeseung calls. You don’t stop. If anything you walk quicker trying your hardest to get away from him. “Hey—seriously—” He jogs up beside you, still laughing. Like it’s funny. Like it’s just another thing for him to tease you about. And that’s when you’ve had enough. That’s when you break. 

You whirl around, eyes blazing. “You think this is funny?” Heeseung falters, caught off guard by the sharpness in your voice. You scoff, shaking your head. “You don’t get it.” 

Heeseung frowns, finally realizing that you’re actually mad. “I mean, come on. It was just a kiss—” 

“No, it wasn’t!” The words come out louder than you intend. Heeseung blinks. Your throat tightens. You stare at the ground, voice quieter now. “That was…my first kiss.” The words feel like ash on your tongue, burning your inside out. Embarrassment flooding your senses. 

And silence followed, dead silence. Heeseung said nothing at your confession. When you finally look up, Heeseung’s expression has completely changed. He doesn’t look smug anymore. He doesn’t look amused. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach. “Shit,” he breathes. 

You shake your head, swallowing hard. “Forget it.” You turn to leave again, but this time, he grabs your wrist. Stopping you from moving away from him. You want to rip your wrist from his hands, it feels like fire on your skin. You just wanted to get away from him even for just a few minutes to collect yourself, so you could calm down. 

Heeseung, although unintentionally, took something from you. And for some people your first kiss would mean nothing but not to you. You had been waiting for the right time, a first kiss, in your mind, was supposed to be romantic. It was supposed to mean something. Even if you didn't end up with that person in the end. Even if you had the messiest break up it didn't matter because in that moment they were the right person and the feeling was there. 

It was the reason you read romance novels like pride and prejudice. You were a foolish, foolish hopeless romantic and you didn't care. You embraced it but now stuck in front of someone like Lee Heeseung who kissed girls like he changed his clothes you were embarrassed. Because it meant nothing to him, it was a joke to see you red, to see you stutter. You couldn't help but be angry about that and you weren't going to let him downplay it. You had more dignity than that. 

“I—” He hesitates, exhaling sharply. “I didn’t know.” 

You laugh bitterly. “Yeah. No shit.” because of course he didn't. Because in his world silly little romantic gestures and the innocence of waiting for the right time to have your first kiss didn’t exist. Kissing was something you just did for him. 

Heeseung runs a hand over his face, looking genuinely guilty. His usual cockiness is gone, replaced by something that almost looks like… regret. “I—fuck. I’m an asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head. 

You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah. You are.” 

He looks at you, jaw tight. “I wouldn’t have done that if I knew.” And you believe him. You can see it in the way his lips are pressed into a thin line, the way his jaw clenches like he’s punishing himself for something he can’t take back. A long silence stretches between you. Were you really about to forgive him? 

Then, you exhale, your voice small. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that.” 

Heeseung swallows hard. “I know.” Your throat tightens as you look away, the ache in your chest still present but no longer suffocating. “It was stupid, and it—it wasn’t supposed to be a joke.” 

“I know,” he repeats. And this time, his voice is laced with something heavier. Something genuine. You hate that you can’t hate him for it. You chew on your lip, staring at the ground. A part of you wants to stay mad. Wants to tell him to leave you alone, to let you hold on to your anger because that would be easier. But another part of you—one you’re not sure you like—wants to believe him. 

Because Heeseung might be an arrogant hockey player with a flirty smirk and a ridiculous ego, but… he isn’t cruel. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. “I can’t believe my first kiss was with you.” 

Heeseung huffs out a laugh, though there’s no amusement in it. “Yeah. And I can’t believe I ruined it for you.” You look up at him then, surprised by the way his gaze is so… serious. He was being sincere. “I’m really sorry,” he says quietly. “I was just being an idiot. I didn’t think—I didn’t know—” He shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, searching his face for any trace of insincerity. But there’s nothing. You could tell with utmost certainty that he was sorry, that he regretted it. And against all odds, you sigh, your shoulders dropping just a little. “I forgive you,” you murmur. 

Heeseung blinks. “You do?” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t make me change my mind.” 

A slow, relieved smile tugs at his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You shake your head, still feeling a little raw, but… better. Heeseung watches you carefully. Then, after a beat, he hesitates before saying, “You know… if you wanted, I could—” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking almost shy. “I mean, I could give you a proper first kiss.” You freeze, your heart stuttering in your chest. 

Heeseung seems to immediately regret saying it, his eyes widening. “Only if you wanted—and not now! I mean—just, like, someday. If you ever wanted to, uh—” You stare at him. Then, despite everything, a laugh bubbles up in your throat. Heeseung let out a groan, running a hand over his face in embarrassment “Just, forget i said anything.”  

But you’re grinning now. It was your turn to tease him and man it felt good. 

The arena is alive with energy, the kind that shakes the walls and hums beneath your skin. You’re here. At a hockey game. Voluntarily. Yunjin nearly fell off the bleachers when you agreed without your usual dramatic sigh and drawn-out complaints. She had pestered you the entire way here, elbowing you in the ribs, wiggling her eyebrows, making heart gestures with her hands. 

“I know why you suddenly want to come,” she had sing-songed, a smug grin plastered on her face. You had simply rolled your eyes, refusing to entertain her antics. But now, sitting in the middle of the buzzing crowd, you feel… different. 

For the first time, you’re actually watching the game. Not just tolerating it, not just suffering through it for Yunjin’s sake—you’re watching, eyes trained on one player in particular. Lee Heeseung. 

You’ve never really paid attention before, never really noticed the way he moves across the ice like he was born on it. He’s fast, insanely fast, weaving through players with a sharp focus you’ve never seen from him anywhere else. The same guy who saunters into tutoring sessions late, who smirks and teases and never takes anything seriously—here, he’s different. He’s serious. Disciplined. And you suddenly understand why people look at him the way they do. Why he’s not just good—but great. 

Your chest tightens as you watch him skate down the ice, stick-handling the puck with effortless precision before passing it off to a teammate. A minute later, the puck is passed back to him, and in one smooth motion, he winds up his shot. The slapshot is powerful, cutting through the air before slamming into the back of the net. The entire arena erupts. Heeseung’s teammates swarm him, cheering, helmets knocking against each other as they embrace. The student section roars, chants of his name ringing out through the stands. 

And you— You cheer. For the first time ever a hockey game has actually excited you. You let the fact that it was a grueling, animalistic sport slip away from you and you allowed yourself to have fun. To watch the people around you at the edge of their seats and you be a part of it. You weren't sulking in your seat wishing you were anywhere but here, no you were having fun. It was liberating. Why hadn;t you allowed such a simple pleasure before. 

You don’t even realize it at first. It’s small, just a quiet “yes!” under your breath, but Yunjin hears it. Her head whips toward you so fast it’s a miracle she doesn’t get whiplash. “Oh. My. God.” 

You blink, startled. “What?” 

Her jaw drops, hands gripping your arm in a death hold. “You just cheered.” You open your mouth to protest, but she’s already gasping dramatically. “I can’t believe it. You—you like hockey. You like hockey.” 

You shove her off, cheeks burning. “I do not.” 

“You do! You just cheered! You’ve been watching the game, and not in a ‘God, this is so stupid’ kind of way, but like a real fan.” She gasps again. “Oh my God, do you have a jersey under your coat? Are you secretly a hardcore Lee Heeseung fangirl?” 

You glare at her. “I swear to God, Yunjin—” 

But she just grins, eyes sparkling with pure mischief. “You like him.” 

Your stomach flips. “I do not.” 

“You do!” She wiggles her brows, giddy like she’s just discovered the best gossip of the century. “You’re watching him like he hung the moon, and you cheered, and you didn’t even complain when I dragged you here!”  

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing back toward the ice where Heeseung is still grinning, fist-bumping his teammates. And for the first time, you admit it to yourself. You like him. You really like him. Even if he stole your first kiss like it was a joke, even if he’s late sometimes, even if he never takes anything seriously with that stupid little smirk on his face. You like him. Lee Heeseung had surprised you. He was nothing you had thought him to be. He was funny, he was kind, he was smart even if he thought otherwise. 

The realization settles over you like a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to carry. Because no way does Heeseung feel the same way about you. Does he? He called your little cafe hang out a date. He’s told you things about himself that i’m sure only his closest friends would know. He kissed you for god sake. Maybe he does like you back? 

“Even if i do like him..” You mutter finding it hard to get the words out. “It’s not like he would like me back?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to find out right?” Yunjin asks with a big dopey grin on her face. 

“That’s the thing..” You trail off “It does hurt to ask, because if he doesn't like me back then it will be awkward, it will ruin everything we've done so far.” 

“Sure.” Yunjin nods “But you can’t walk around with this crush looming over you. Things like this can’t go unsaid..” 

You just nod at her not really wanting to further conversation here of all places. The game was over and everyone was starting to leave, it would be humiliating if someone were to hear the two of yours conversation. 

“Come on.” Yunjin grabbed your arm “We have to wait for Soobin..” 

You stand outside the rink with Yunjin, your arms crossed over your chest as she bounces on the balls of her feet, clearly eager to see Soobin. The energy is still electric from the game, students lingering in groups, buzzing about the win. You’re pretending to listen to Yunjin ramble about some play that Soobin made, but your eyes keep flickering toward the players filtering out of the locker room. Looking for him. But Heeseung’s nowhere to be found. 

You’re not sure why you care. Not sure why your stomach twists in disappointment every time another player walks past and it’s not him. You were sure you looked like a little lost puppy, how pathetic of you really. 

“Looking for someone?” Yunjin cooes, a grin on her face. You shake your head at her relentlessness. She never gives up does she. 

“No.” You deadpan “I’m not.” 

“Sure.” she giggles. But she didn't believe you. And truthfully you didn't believe yourself. 

Luckily, Soobin finally emerges, and Yunjin squeals, launching herself at him. He laughs, catching her with ease, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Did you see my goal?” he teases. 

“I saw everything,” Yunjin gushes. You roll your eyes, but there’s a small, unbidden smile playing on your lips as you watch them. You always admired their relationship and the way Soobin takes such good care of Yunjin. Sure, you weren't the biggest fan of hockey players but Soobin was one of the good ones. Yunjin loved him, so in turn you loved him too. Unless he hurt her. Then he’d had hell to pay. But, they've been going strong for two years now so the chance of that happening was slim to none it seemed. 

The moment is cut short when a group of guys from the opposing team walks past, their presence immediately shifting the air. “Nice win,” one of them says, voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes land on Soobin. “Lucky, huh?” 

Soobin tenses beside Yunjin, but his expression remains neutral. “Just played our game, man.” 

One of the guys scoffs. “Right. Guess even a broken clock is right twice a day.” Jake and Jay join the group just in time to hear that, their easygoing post-game demeanor sharpening. 

“Problem?” Jake asks, his usual grin gone. It was so unlike Jake to not have a beaming smile on his face. He was almost never this serious from what you’ve seen of him. 

The guy just smirks. “Not at all. Just wondering what your team is gonna do when Lee Heeseung finally crashes and burns.” Something in your chest tightens. 

Jake’s jaw ticks. “Excuse me?” 

“Oh, come on. You know it as well as we do. Without hockey, Heeseung is nothing. Just another dude who peaked in college and has nothing to fall back on.” The guy laughs, shaking his head. “Damn shame, really.” You see red. 

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you step forward. “Excuse you?” The guy turns to you, clearly amused. “Oh? And who are you?” 

“I’m the person telling you to shut the hell up,” you snap, surprising everyone—including yourself. Heeseung might drive you insane. He might be arrogant and cocky and an infuriating flirt. But the way they’re talking about him—like he’s disposable, like he doesn’t matter beyond what he can do on the ice—it bothers you. It bothers you a lot. More than it should maybe. But at this moment you didn’t care. You sure as hell were not going to let sore losers talk down on him when he wasn’t even here to defend himself. 

You keep going, anger bubbling to the surface. “You don’t know anything about him. You don’t know how hard he works, how much pressure he’s under. He’s one of the best players in the league, and that’s why you’re all so bitter.” You let out a scoff. “And if he did quit hockey tomorrow? He’d still be ten times the person any of you are.” The group goes silent for a beat. Then the guy just laughs. He actually laughs. You tense up, readying yourself to really have at them. 

“Damn,” he snickers, looking at his teammates. “She’s got it bad.” Heat rises to your face. Was it really that obvious? Were you just humiliating yourself? You cursed yourself for opening your mouth in the first place. For allowing these assholes to get under your skin. 

You open your mouth to argue, but he just shakes his head, still chuckling. “Good luck with that, sweetheart.” Then they walk off, leaving you standing there, seething and embarrassed for making a scene. 

“Damn.” 

You turn to find all eyes on you. It made you want to sink into yourself and put yourself away for the next year. A closed off hole in the dirt would be a better place for you right now then where you were currently. Jake raises his eyebrows, impressed. “Didn’t know you had that in you.” 

“Neither did I,” Jay adds, smirking. 

Even Soobin is looking at you like he’s seeing you in a new light. Everyone was looking at you like you were a totally different person than who you were. And you didn't know if you liked it. 

But it’s Yunjin who nudges your side, grinning knowingly. “Interesting.” You groan, rubbing your temples. Because, yeah. It is interesting. Because for all the times you’ve denied it, all the times you’ve tried to pretend you don’t care about Heeseung— You just proved, in front of everyone, that you do. 

The next day, you wait for Heeseung at the library, tapping your pen impatiently against your notebook. Five minutes turn into fifteen. Fifteen into thirty. But he never shows. Annoyance bubbles inside you. Typical. Still, something feels different this time. After the kiss, after everything that happened, you expected—no, hoped—things would shift between you. Instead, he’s just… disappeared. And you hate that you care. Everything was ok. He was flirty, so why was he ignoring you? Why was he flaking? 

So, against your better judgment, you find yourself heading toward the frat house. The music is low, a few guys lounging around, but it’s nothing like the parties you’ve been dragged to before. When you ask where Heeseung is, they just gesture upstairs, some of them giving you looks you pointedly ignore. You don’t even knock. You push open his door to find him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. 

He barely spares you a glance. “What do you want?” 

You scoff. “Seriously? You skip tutoring and act like I’m the one bothering you?” Heeseung tosses his phone aside, finally looking at you—but there’s no teasing glint in his eyes, no smirk. Just something unreadable, something guarded. “I didn’t ask you to come here.” 

You frown. “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for you to ignore me, either.” 

Silence. Heeseung rubs the back of his neck, exhaling harshly. “Look, just forget it.” 

You shake your head, frustration growing. “Why are you being like this?” 

“Like what?” He quips with a sarcastic laugh. It makes your blood boil. 

“Like this. Distant. Rude. A total asshole.” 

He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Funny. I thought that’s how you always saw me.” 

“That’s not—” You stop yourself, clenching your fists. “What’s your problem?” 

Heeseung stands, suddenly in your space, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “My problem?” His voice is sharp now. “My problem is you making me look like an idiot.” 

You blink, taken aback. “What?” The confusion coursing through you was palpable. You couldn’t remember a time you had made him look like an idiot. The two of you hardly interacted outside of the library and you certainly hadn’t been around each other when your friends were near. So what the hell was he talking about? 

“Last night,” he mutters, his jaw clenched. “You stood there, in front of everyone, and defended me like I’m some kind of fucking charity case.”  Oh. Oh. 

Your breath catches in your throat. “That’s not what I was doing—” 

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” he interrupts. “I don’t need you to tell people I’m more than hockey. I am hockey.” His eyes darken. “And just because we kissed doesn’t mean you’re my fucking girlfriend.” 

The words hit you like a slap. You open your mouth, then close it. You don’t even know what to say. The silence stretches between you like a canyon. 

“I wasn’t trying to-” 

“I didn’t ask for you to do that,” he cuts you off. “I don’t need saving.” You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I wasn’t trying to save you, Heeseung. I was just—” 

He laughs, but it’s anything but amused. “You were just what?” 

“Caring,” you snap. “I was caring, okay? God forbid someone actually gives a shit about you.” Something flashes across his face—something raw, something almost vulnerable—but it’s gone as quickly as it came. A beat of silence. Then, softer: “I don't need you to care.” 

And that, somehow, it hurts more than anything else he’s said. You nod, pressing your lips together. “Just drop it.” He says with finality. But you weren't done. No, you were fired up. 

You should. You should just let it go. But instead, you shove his shoulder. “No.” 

He looks at you, startled. “Did you just—” You shove him again. 

He catches your wrist. “You’ve got some nerve.” You glare up at him. “And you’re a coward.”

His grip tightens slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You take a shaky breath. “You push people away because it’s easier than letting them in. It’s easier than admitting that you actually give a shit.” Heeseung’s eyes flicker with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?” You swallow. “Then prove it.” His grip on your wrist tightens. And then, suddenly— His lips are on yours. 

This time you don’t push him away, this time you welcome him. Because you wanted this, more than you’ve wanted anything else before. It’s rough, heated, and you should push him away. You should be furious. But instead, you find yourself kissing him back. You barely register him walking you backward until your back hits the wall, his hands gripping your waist, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck. The argument, the hurt, the frustration—it all melts into something else entirely. Something that has been building since the first moment you met. And you don’t stop him. How could you when this was all you’ve wanted. All you’ve been thinking of. The kiss is hard, almost punishing, like he’s trying to prove a point. But you don’t pull away. You kiss him back, fisting the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer. 

It’s heated, desperate, fueled by something neither of you want to name. His hands find your waist, and before you know it, you’re stumbling back onto the bed. Your heart is racing. This is a bad idea. This is reckless and impulsive and everything you swore you wouldn’t do. But when Heeseung hovers over you, his lips brushing against yours— you don’t want him to stop. And you beg him not to. 

“Don’t stop.” You breathe pulling away an inch to whisper the words. “Please.”

“But-” He stutters his own breathing labored “You’ve never..” 

“I want to.” You nod at him, giving him all the reassurance he needs. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you, his lips leaving a small trail on your neck down to your collarbone. “Tell me you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure heeseung.” You grabbed his face, so his eyes were leveled with yours. “I want you.” 

Heeseung’s hands continued down the expanse of your body. Running his palms up and down your sides until they reached your waist. He pulled at your body until you’re forced down onto your back with a huff. 

“You’re so beautiful” Heeseung mumbles from above you. “I’m so lucky to be the only man to see you like this…” He coos as his hands made quick work of sliding your yoga pants down your legs revealing your white cotton panties to his eyes. “Right baby?” He hummed “I’m lucky right?” 

You could barely form words as you watched drink in the sight of you. You nod at him that being the only form of communication you could offer him. His hands run up your body again, slowly caressing you. Until he reached your tank top covered breasts. His hands squeezed at them causing a broken gasp to leave your lips. 

You had never been touched by a man like this. So sensually, so erotic. Your body felt ablaze with need for him; you didn't know how to contain yourself. “Please.” You whispered, lifting your hips off the bed, showcasing your ever growing need for him. 

“Be patient baby, I want to take my time with you.” Heeseung pulled at the top of your tank top, yanking it down to expose your breasts to him. He smiled at you, a smile that had made you feel warm inside, safe. His hands kneaded the skin of your breasts. Breathy moans left your lips as you watched Heeseung in fascination. He was beautiful like this. You had never seen a more beautiful man before. 

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?” Heeseung asked, and for a second you were confused until you felt his nimble fingers on your most sensitive area. An area that had not yet been explored. It had your breath stuttering, your nerves alight. 

Heeseung’s finger circled your clit, his eyes watching your for any signs of discomfort. “This might feel a little uncomfortable, just tell me if you want me to stop and I will okay?” 

“Okay.” You sigh. Heeseung’s finger dips inside of you and at first the stretch is uncomfortable but not painful and soon..it starts to feel good. A moan leaves your lips before you could stop it. 

“Fuck.” Heeseung hisses eyes trained on your pussy and how well you were taking his finger. “I’m going to add another one..you’re so tight.” 

“Oh my god.” You whispered as the feeling of his fingers going in and out of you became almost too much to bear. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” Heeseung whispered eyes still trained downwards, watching himself fuck you with his fingers. 

“Yes, fuck yes.” Your moans were loudly and could probably be heard throughout the entire house but you didn’t care. It felt too good. 

Suddenly, the feeling was yanked from you when Heeseung pulled his fingers out. His hands immediately traveled to his pants, yanking them down in one fell swoop. “You’re ready for me.” He said, pulling your hips to the end of the bed. 

“Heeseung…” You trailed off “Is it going to hurt?” You asked him. Heeseung looked at you with a softness you had rarely ever seen from him before. 

“It will sting a little..” He admits “But tell me if it's too much and I'll stop right away.” 

“Okay, i’m ready” You give him a little smile and a nod, mentally preparing yourself. You were about to lose your virginity to a guy that wasn’t even your boyfriend. And you wanted to, you were excited to. 

Heeseung lined himself at your entrance watching your face to gauge your reaction, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. You felt him run the tip of his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. And finally after what felt like forever he slid in. slowly, inch by inch. The stretch was far more uncomfortable than his fingers. And he was right to say it would sting. But it was not unbearable. And finally when he was fully inside, hips flush against yours you had felt so close to him, more close than you had ever felt to anyone. It was almost romantic. Not almost, it was. 

Heeseung slowly moved himself in and out of you allowing you to get used to his size. 

“God.” He hissed out, his fingers making dents in your thighs as he tried his best to contain himself. “So…fucking…tight.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice light and airy. Your hands reached for his shoulders digging your fingertips into his skin. “Does it feel good?” 

Heeseung groaned at your words pistoning his hips harder inside of you. “Y-yes” He stuttered. “Best pussy i’ve ever felt.” 

You smiled at his crude words but you would be lying if you didn't think his words to be oddly…sweet. 

“Faster.” You moaned, moving your hands down to circle at your clit. “You can go faster.” 

Heeseung let out another deep girdled groan lifting your knees to your chest allowing himself to hit a deeper spot inside of you. It had you gasping for breath. The new angle sends you hurtling to your orgasm before you could even catch your breath.  

“Fuckkkk” Heeseung’s moans were like music to your ears, a sound you had never thought you would have the pleasure of hearing and now that you have you would never give up. 

Your orgasm served as a catalyst to his as he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty. His hand worked himself up and down, his breathing heavy and chest heaving up and down. “Oh my god.” He groaned as droplets of his cum landed on your stomach. You watched him with wide eyes, your own chest falling in tandem with his.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a while, letting you both catch your breath. 

“Yeah..” You sigh. “More than okay.” 

The next day, Heeseung is out of town for an away game, leaving you alone with your thoughts—ones you don’t particularly want to sit with. Over thinking the night the two of you had over and over again. It was perfect, in your mind. And you didn’t regret not one bit. 

When Yunjin suggests another movie night, you jump at the distraction. Wanting a way to calm your raging nerves. An hour later, the two of you are curled up on your respective sides of the couch, Chinese takeout containers balancing on your laps, Legally Blonde playing on the screen. But you’re barely paying attention. Your mind is still tangled in the events of last night—the heat of Heeseung’s touch, the way he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, the things he whispered against your skin. 

It’s only a matter of time before Yunjin notices. She shoots you a knowing look, pausing the movie. “Okay. Spill.” 

You hesitate, staring down at your lo mein. “Spill what?” 

She scoffs. “Don’t even try that. You’ve been acting weird all night. Like, more weird than usual.” 

You exhale, pressing your lips together. Then, before you can overthink it, you blurt, “I slept with Heeseung.” The silence that follows is deafening. Yunjin just stares at you, chopsticks frozen mid-air. “You what?” 

You groan, setting your food down. “You heard me.” She blinks. “Oh my god.” 

“I know.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I know!” 

Yunjin drops her chopsticks and grabs your hands, shaking them. “Okay, okay. Start from the beginning. How did this happen?” So you tell her. You tell her about going to the frat house, about how Heeseung was being an asshole again, about the argument that escalated into something else entirely. By the time you’re done, Yunjin is still holding onto you, eyes wide. “So… what happens now?” You bite your lip. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because the truth is—you don’t know. 

“I have no idea,” you admit. “We didn’t really talk about it. He had to leave early for the game this morning.” 

Yunjin watches you carefully. “And how do you feel?” 

You hesitate. “I don’t regret it.” That’s the one thing you’re sure of. Yunjin nods, but there’s a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Just… be careful, okay?” 

You give her a small smile. “I will.” She studies you for another moment, then sighs dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “Well, damn. I guess this makes you a hockey girlfriend now.” 

You snort. “I am not a hockey girlfriend.” 

“Not yet.” She waggles her eyebrows. You groan, throwing a pillow at her. She yelps, laughing as she ducks. 

Monday rolls around, and you’re actually excited to see Heeseung again. It’s ridiculous. You know it’s ridiculous. But after everything that happened, after the way things felt so different between you, there’s a small, traitorous part of you that wonders if things have actually changed. But then hours pass. And Heeseung doesn’t text. Doesn’t call. You tell yourself you're not the type of girl that obsesses over whether a boy will call her or not but it’s hard not to. Not when said boy just made you feel like the most special girl in the world. The one who took your virginity and made it the most special moment of your life. The boy you're falling so madly and deeply in love with. 

You’re not that type of girl. By the time evening comes around, you’ve tried convincing yourself a hundred times that you don’t care—that you don’t need to hear from him. So when Yunjin texts you, asking if you want to grab food at the diner, you immediately say yes. A distraction is exactly what you need. A night at a little diner with your best friend who knows about Heeseung. You can get some perspective from a girl who's in a happy and healthy relationship. She’ll tell you that Heeseung is just tired, he was away all weekend playing Hockey he might just want to rest. All your worries will be satiated and then you can focus on having a good dinner. 

The diner is packed when you walk in, the usual buzz of students filling the space. You and Yunjin are making your way to a booth near the back when she suddenly stops short. You follow her gaze—and feel your stomach drop. At a table near the center of the diner sits Heeseung, Soobin, and the rest of the hockey guys, all laughing loudly over burgers and milkshakes like they don’t have a care in the world. And Heeseung—he looks fine. Like nothing happened. 

Yunjin glances at you. “Do you want to—” Before she can finish, you take a breath and start walking. You’re not going to hide from him. That would be pathetic. You’re just going to go over, say hi, and act normal. But the second you and Yunjin reach the table, you can feel the shift in energy. 

Heeseung tenses when he sees you, his usual cocky smirk faltering for a second before he recovers. “What are you doing here?” You blink, taken aback by his tone. “Getting food. What does it look like?” Some of the guys at the table snicker, and your stomach twists. You feel small. You feel helpless. 

Heeseung leans back in his seat, his jaw tightening. “Didn’t realize you were such a fan of hockey hangouts.” 

You furrow your brows. “What?” Your heart drops to your stomach. 

He shrugs. “I mean, I just didn’t peg you as someone who follows guys around, but hey—good to know.” 

The table erupts into laughter, and heat flares up your neck. You cannot believe this. is he seriously—after everything—is he seriously doing this right now? He’s humiliating you. And for what? To look cool? To hurt you? Because it was working, he was hurting you. Soobin, however, notices immediately. His gaze flicks between you and Heeseung, frown deepening. You glance at Yunjin, whose mouth is already set in a furious line. But before you can say anything, she grabs a cup off the table—one full of soda and ice—and without hesitation, throws it straight at Heeseung. 

Gasps ring out. The laughter stops immediately. Heeseung sits there, stunned, soda dripping from his hair and down his face. The entire diner is watching now, but Yunjin doesn’t care. “What the fuck, Yunjin?!” Heeseung exclaims, jumping up, shaking the liquid off his hands. She glares at him with pure, unfiltered rage. “You are such a fucking asshole, Lee Heeseung.” 

Then she grabs your hand, yanking you away from the table before you can even process what just happened. Leaving your heart at the table with him. Shattered for everyone to see. 

The second you’re outside, the cool air hitting your flushed skin, you exhale sharply. “Holy shit.” Yunjin looks just as pissed as you feel. “What the hell was that?” 

You shake your head, anger and humiliation swirling inside you. “I don’t know.” But what you do know? You’re done. Done making excuses for Heeseung. Done thinking that maybe—just maybe—he’s not the person you feared he was. Because he just proved exactly who he is. And it hurts. 

When the two of you are back at the dorm you allow yourself to cry, to feel the emotions as they came. The heeseung you thought you knew would never do this to you. But it was clear to you now that he only used you as a means to pass his class. His sweet personality was only a well executed act that you were stupid enough to fall for. How could you fall for that? Hockey boys were nothing but egoistic man boys who threw each other around, chasing a puck for a living. They lacked sustenance, they lived their lives like barbarians and you hated them, and everything they stood for. 

You yanked your phone out of your back pocket before swiping to Heeseung’s contact. You hovered over his name for only a second before you opened messages and typed out; “Tutoring is done. Don’t text me, don’t call me. Goodbye.” and you wished you could gather the words to hurt him the way he hurt you but you just didn’t have the strength. You wanted to forget Lee Heeseung and hockey all together. 

Days pass in almost a blur. You contine life as usual only Heeseung is no longer a part of it. You avoid him like the plague, if he’s near at all you bolt. There was no talk of hockey in the dorm anymore. Yunjin was just as pissed and hurt as you. She was the best friend anyone could ever ask for really. 

It was Friday night when you finally had time to settle in for the night. You had an old copy of pride and prejudice in your hand and a hot cup of tea next to you. Yunjin was with Soobin for the night so you were finally alone. It was just past ten-thirty when the sound of pounding on your dorm broke you out of your reading trance. You hurried out of your bed, opening the door with a sense of urgency. Only to be met with Heeseung. 

He was holding a piece of paper in his hand, sporting a grin on his face. The audacity of him. To show up to your dorm..grinning. Was it is lifes mission to torture because it sure did feel like it. The look on Heeseung’s face as you slam the door almost makes you falter. Almost. You stand there, heart racing, hands clenched into fists as you try to steady your breathing. On the other side of the door, you hear nothing at first—just silence. And then: “Wait—no. Wait.” 

A loud knock. You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to do this. “Please, just open the door,” Heeseung says, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “Go away, Heeseung.” 

“I—no. Not until you listen to me.” Another knock. Then another. “I swear I wasn’t using you.” 

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Oh, really? Could’ve fooled me.” 

“I mean it.” His voice is closer now, pressed right up against the door. “That night at the diner—I fucked up, okay? I was an idiot. I didn’t want the guys to know about—” He pauses. “About us.” Something about the way he says us makes your stomach twist. You hate that a part of you still wants to listen. “Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you expect. “Why is it so humiliating to be seen with me?” 

“It’s not,” he says immediately. “That’s not—fuck. That’s not what I meant.” You don’t respond. You don’t know what to say. “Can you—” He exhales, frustration laced in his voice. “Can you at least open the door so I can look at you while I apologize?” You hesitate. Of course, you hesitate. You should just tell him to leave. He doesn’t deserve the chance to explain himself after what he did. But against your better judgement and like a complete and utter idiot, you unlock the door. 

The second it swings open, Heeseung is standing there, wide-eyed, like he wasn’t sure you’d actually do it. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Slowly, he lifts the crumpled test paper in his hand. “I got a hundred” 

You glance at it, then back at him. “Good for you,” you say again, flatly. “I guess using me was worth it.” 

His jaw clenches. He rubs the back of his neck. “I know you don’t owe me anything. I just—” He shakes his head. “I panicked, okay? I thought if the guys found out about… us, they’d—” 

“They’d what, Heeseung?” You cross your arms. “Make fun of you? Say something stupid? Newsflash—people say stupid shit all the time.” He looks away. “You don’t get it.” 

“Then make me get it.” 

His hands tighten into fists. His lips press together like he’s warring with himself. “I just—I’ve spent years making sure people see me a certain way. That I’m not the same loser I was before.” You stare at him. “And you think being seen with me ruins that image?” 

His head snaps up. “No.” He steps closer, and for the first time since that awful night, his voice is softer. “That’s not what I meant.” He swallows. “You make me feel different. And that—” He shakes his head, frustrated. “That scares me.” You don’t know what to say. Because what do you do with that? What do you do with the fact that this boy, the same one who humiliated you in front of everyone, is now standing here saying things you never expected to hear? 

A lump forms in your throat. “Then maybe you should figure out what you actually want, Heeseung.” He looks at you, something raw in his expression. “I already know what I want.” But you don’t let yourself believe him. Not yet. So you step back. And this time, when you close the door, you do it gently. And you let yourself cry because that’s the only thing you can control right now. 

The next night you're curled up in bed, the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminating your face as a movie plays in the background. You’re not really watching, though. You’re just existing, letting the noise drown out your thoughts. The door swings open, and Yunjin and Soobin step inside, their laughter filling the space. Yunjin glances at you before excusing herself to the bathroom, leaving you alone with Soobin. He hesitates for a moment before sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Hey,” he says gently. “How are you doing?” 

You don’t even look away from the screen. “I’m great.” 

Soobin scoffs. “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.” 

You sigh, finally meeting his gaze. He’s watching you carefully, like he’s trying to piece you together. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced with something softer. “Heeseung is a mess,” Soobin says after a moment. “He misses you. And he’s sorry.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to care. But despite yourself, a single tear slips down your cheek. 

“He used me, Soobin,” your voice cracks, and you look down at your lap. “How can I forgive him? Why would I?” Soobin sighs, shaking his head. He doesn’t hesitate when he says, “Because you love him. And he loves you.” Your breath catches. it’s so simple, so matter-of-fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’s just waiting for you to admit it to yourself. Before you can say anything, Yunjin steps out of the bathroom, looking between the two of you. “You ready to go?” she asks Soobin. 

He nods, standing up. But before he leaves, he gives you one last look. “Just… think about it, okay?” Then, they’re gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sit there long after the door closes, Soobin’s words echoing in your mind. Because you love him and he loves you. 

Your heart clenches, and you wipe at the tear on your cheek, frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard. You shouldn’t still care this much. But the truth is—you do. You sigh, curling up tighter in your blanket. The movie playing in the background is one you’ve seen a million times, but you’re not paying attention. Your thoughts keep circling back to Heeseung. His face when you shut the door. The way his voice wavered when he admitted you scared him. 

Does he really love you? Or is this just another game to him? You don’t know. And that uncertainty terrifies you. Opening your heart up terrifies you. A soft knock pulls you from your thoughts. Your stomach twists, half-expecting it to be Heeseung, but when you open the door, it’s Sunoo. “Hey,” he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Yunjin texted me. Said you might need company.” 

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. Of course she did. Sunoo plops down next to you on the bed, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in your lap. He watches you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. “So. Are we wallowing or plotting revenge?” You huff out a laugh, shoving him lightly. “Neither.” 

“Boring.” He sighs dramatically, throwing himself back against your pillows. “Okay, then what’s the plan? You’re clearly miserable. And I’m pretty sure Heeseung is too.” You don’t say anything, just stare down at the popcorn in your hands. Sunoo sighs again, but this time, it’s softer. “Look, I get why you’re mad. You should be mad. But…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not close with Heeseung and I barely know him since it’s my first year, but I’ve never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you.” 

Your chest tightens. “Then why did he treat me like that?” 

“Because he’s an idiot.” Sunoo shrugs. “And because he’s scared. But mostly because he’s an idiot.” You roll your eyes. “Not helping.” 

He nudges you. “I’m just saying… Maybe talk to him. Really talk to him.” You sigh, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know if I can trust him again.” 

Sunoo is quiet for a moment, then says, “Then make him prove that you can.” You swallow hard, his words settling into your chest like a weight. Heeseung owes you more than just an apology. Maybe if he really wants you, he’ll fight for you. And maybe you, just maybe you’ll let him. 

That weekend, Yunjin had had enough. She wasn’t about to let you wallow in self-pity any longer. “You’re coming to the game,” she announced, standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed. You groaned, pulling your blanket over your face. “Pass.” 

“Not an option.” She yanked the covers away. “You’ve spent all week moping. You need to get out.” 

“I am out,” you deadpanned. “My bed is out.” 

“Not what I meant.” She rolled her eyes. “Get dressed. Now.” Despite your protests, she wasn’t having any of it. Eventually, after an absurd amount of bribery (including the promise of ice cream after), you gave in. By the time you arrived at the arena, the energy in the air was electric—fans were buzzing with anticipation, the scent of popcorn and arena food filling your senses. The rink was already packed, the game about to start, and you felt out of place among the sea of jerseys and face paint. Yunjin, however, was thrilled, chatting with other students and cheering before the puck even dropped. You sat stiffly beside her, arms crossed, doing your best not to look at the ice—because you knew if you did, your eyes would immediately find Heeseung. 

And you weren’t ready for that. A few minutes into the game, Yunjin’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out, eyes scanning the screen before she let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh. Soobin left his gloves in the locker room. Can you please grab them for him?” 

You turned to her with a glare. “Why can’t y—” 

“Just go do it,” she cut you off, shoving your shoulder lightly. Something about her tone made you pause. She sounded too casual. Too… calculated. You narrowed your eyes. “This feels like a setup.” 

She gasped, all mock innocence. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?” You weren’t convinced, but the alternative was sitting here and enduring the game, so you sighed. “Fine.” 

Yunjin grinned, and you shot her one last suspicious look before heading down the corridor. The locker room hallway was eerily quiet, the distant sound of the game muffled through the walls. You pushed open the heavy door, stepping inside, expecting to see rows of empty benches and Soobin’s gloves lying somewhere in the mess of gear. instead, standing in the middle of the room, was Heeseung. Your breath caught. He looked different off the ice—less intimidating without his helmet, his hair damp with sweat, curling slightly at the ends. He was still in his jersey, the bold number on his sleeve catching the light, his hockey bag slung over one shoulder. 

And he was staring at you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was heavy, charged with everything that had been left unsaid. You clear your throat, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. “I’m just here to grab Soobin’s gloves.” Your voice is steady, indifferent. Like seeing him doesn’t completely shake you. 

Heeseung nods slowly, then gestures to the bench behind him. “They’re over there.” You walk past him, determined to just grab the gloves and leave, but as soon as your fingers curl around them, Heeseung speaks again. “You’re here.” 

You freeze, but don’t turn around. “Yunjin dragged me.” A beat of silence. Then, softer—almost hesitant—Heeseung says, “I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again.” 

You inhale sharply, gripping the gloves tighter. Finally, you turn to face him. “You made that pretty easy when you humiliated me.” Regret flickers in his expression. “I know,” he murmurs. “I was an idiot. A complete asshole. I told you, I was scared.” 

You scoff. “Scared of what, Heeseung? That people would find out you actually cared about me? That you weren’t just some player?” 

“Yes,” he admits, and the raw honesty in his voice takes you off guard. “I was scared of how much I cared about you. Scared that you’d realize I wasn’t good enough for you.” Heeseung runs a hand through his damp hair, exhaling shakily. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter, because you do. You do more than you realize.” 

Your chest tightens, emotions crashing over you all at once. You want to be mad. You want to scream at him for the way he made you feel. But there’s something in his voice, in his expression—genuine remorse, vulnerability—that makes it hard to hold onto that anger. “You really hurt me, Heeseung,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. He steps closer, carefully, like he’s afraid you’ll run. “I know. And I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you.” 

You swallow, emotions warring inside you. For a moment, neither of you move. Then, hesitantly, he reaches out—giving you the chance to pull away—but when you don’t, his fingers brush against yours, light and uncertain. “Can we just… start over?” he asks. “Please?” 

Your heart pounds. A part of you wants to walk away, to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But another part—maybe the bigger part—wants to believe him. You take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “Okay.” 

“Okay”

reg taglist. (★) @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @filmnings , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae, @ch4c0nnenh4, @kristynaaah

series taglist. (★) @saejinniestar , @chwesun , @vixialuvs , @slut4hee , @xylatox , @ghstzzn @skyearby @m1kkso @jakeswifez @heartheejake @hommyy-tommy @yunverie @lalalalawon

@strayy-kidz @wolfhardbby @kwiwin @immelissaaa @fancypeacepersona @starfallia @mariegalea @adoredbyjay @strxwbloody @lovingvoidgoatee @beeboobeebss @zyvlxqht @weyukinluv @flwwon

@guapgoddees @demigodmahash @cloud-lyy @heesky @ikaw-at-ikaw @shuichi-sama @shawnyle @kwhluv @iarainha @ikeuwoniee @mora134340

crossing the line masterlist coming soon.

[11queensupreme11]

AHHH ! I’m so glad you like my modern au !

Ok so Percy’s dad is still pjo Poseidon lol sorry ! Him and sally were one of those Sumer romances and he did lowkey wanna stay but pjo Zues ( bozo telenevela level drama queen ) has a hissy fit and his family have him stuck to his og wife. Sally was first with Gabe then divorced ( Loki found out and burried his ass in cement ) Rn Sally is Happy and married in nyc with Paul !

Percy goes to college in Long Island and lives with Grover and anthonius ! ( thanks for the ideas btw I love it !!!) Grover works at a nonprofit to save the ecosystem and he too won’t show up yet since he was raising money to preserve an endangered plant. They both still pay for rent but are currently off doing their stuff at the begening of the story.

Because of that Percy mostly hangs out with her other friends, Brunhilde a law major and her little sister Goll a highschool senior who is currently doing a nursing tech ( I went to a highschool in Long Island where you could do that I think it was also called Boces )

As for how Percy ends up at a frat party ! Her apartment neighbor Drew calls her panicked because she was at a frat party and her idiot sorority sister piper acted a fool cause the both of them had a thing for Jason ( Percy’s cousin ) whose this really nice dude who’s only in the same frat as Cu cause of his idiot dad wanted him to follow his legacy. Anyways shit went south so Percy went to help her and met one of the banes of her existences in the process.

For the health issues I could totes see Apollo clocking her in the hospital he has his residency in and breaking all The doctor codes to see what’s wrong with her ( I still don’t know what illness to give her lol ) he then proceeds to coddle her like she’s some fragile girly, he’ll lift her stuff, walk her home, feed her, people assume they’re dating or married with how he dotes on her.

And omg yes ! Hades would put his mouth in his foot and hire Beel as her new math tutor, Beel is also a sad bozo loner who’s only freind Lilith is currently off abroad because she’s a photographer usually and curbs his less ethical ways and is a voice of reason but with her gone he’s been spiraling internally. Then this brat who can’t do math and wears blue dyslexia glasses barged in to his life… and no he doesn’t like her even when she brings him food and check in on him… and she’s definitely not his new bestie…

Loki and Percy’s friendship ??? Kinda happened from him being semi related to Goll and Brun, so it tends to be them plus Thor on sleepovers and movie theater nights, of course at first they were passive aggressive as shit but one drunk night and they’re chill ? Ok not really but he’s a beloved grimlin that crawled out of somewhere and Percy tolerates him ( also cause she doesn’t know he turned her abusive step dad into a cement statue )

And although pjo pos wasn’t with Sally he’s actually a pretty good dad when he can be, he’ll send her fish shaped plushies and even secretly paid for her college, he even owns the apartment complex she lives in and keeps the rent affordable. Him and Percy go fishing every summer and he even own one of those #1 dad mugs ( Percy made it in a pottery class ) also HE PAYS HIS CHILD SUPORT !!! The only reason Percy and Sally struggled at first was cause gave was a shitty abusive ass but as soon as Sally could girly pop ran.

Also not to confuse things I think the pjo gods would be named after their Roman counter parts to make it easier.

As for ror Poseidon man did he not like her at first ! She’s this pretty looking girl who can’t read for shit always wears blue sunglasses indoors ( he doesn’t realise they’re dyslexia glasses ) and smells like coffee and cookies. He had beef with a college girly ( looser ) then they have a dramatic stuck in the elevator moment where he finds out oh hey… she’s not that bad I guess ? And then when he realises she loves marine life as much as him he is obsessed ! So what if she’s the only one who gets praised ? Or better grades ? Or the only one who gets to go on his internship in the summer ? She’s perfect…. ( bro is delulu )

Also I deff wanna hear anyone else’s ideas about the au it would be so fun 😋

I FORGOT TO ADD THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ASK. but since beelzebub was made her tutor only because anthonius was gone..... imagine him crashing out when anthonius comes back and percy tells him "hey beelie, i just wanted to let you know that you don't have to tutor me anymore because my friend came back! yaaaaay now ur free of me, haha!!! 😄"

also, i'm picturing ways they find out about anthonius lmao.

like for beelie, it's what i said above. she drops him as a tutor cuz anthonius is back and she's all like "i bet ur super happy cuz now you don't have to deal with me anymore haha!! 💖💖💖" and he's just crying internally

for cú chulainn idk, maybe he goes to the cafe to be a menace again, but she's on break and talking to some other dude and he's just fuming. or maybe he tries to mess with her again like always, but then ANTHONIUS who doesn't give a shit who cú chulainn or his family is, steps up to tell him to fuck off??? idk lol knowing cú chulainn, he'd probably start a fight ngl

and for anubis.... hmmmmmm........... maybe he goes to visit her sometime near closing time. percy's always last to leave and she and anubis sometimes meet up at that time so she can make a special treat for him and kebi, but maybe this one time he goes there only to see her talking with some dude 💔💔💔💔💔 and he's just... face-pressed into the window like 🥺 or something and anthonius and percy are like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️

for poseidon..... he'd definitely be evil enough to have a 9 AM class and percy ALWAYS does her best to show up in time but one day she was late and when he asks her about it she's like "oh sorry! my friend anthonius came back from rome and we stayed up super late celebrating! 😅💖" and he crashes out

and with hades.......... hmmmm maybe anthonius finds out that hades has been snatching her up for random meetings in his office and anthonius is all like "umm percy... that's a little concerning, maybe you shouldn't do that anymore" and she listens and stops coming 💀💔

and for loki, since you mentioned that she hangs out at the valkyries' place (and loki by extension), maybe he notices that she hasn't been visiting frequently and asks brunhilde and she's all like "oh percy's friend that she may or may not be in love with came back from rome so she's been hanging out with him. btw they live together lol" 😂😂😂😂😂

for apollo, maybe the same with beel! she calls him up and is like "hey apollo! i'm so sorry i've been making you waste so much time with taking care of me.... you don't have to do it anymore! my friend came back, he can handle it! thank you for everything!!! 💖💖" and he loses it LMAO

[aerialflight]

another fic rec list! (march edition)

I read so many good fics this month that I HAD to recommend. And again, I wildly pingponged between fandoms, though some still stuck around so you're in luck. Enjoy!

[Star Trek] (found some more! and reread old favorites)(also, fell in love with multiple ships)

Manner of Attraction by LiterallyThePresident

Ship: Spock/Leonard McCoy

“Spock, you think I’m sexy, right?” McCoy laughed “Yes.” Spock said honestly, and all three of them seemed to stop short

(short, sweet, and sparked my interest in this ship! it's my gateway drug fic and was what made me curious enough to hunt for more. definitely recommend! XD)

Anything You Can Do by igrockspock for ictus

Ship: Jim Kirk/Hikaru Sulu

'Anything you can do, I can do better' is not a healthy relationship philosophy - unless you’re Jim and Hikaru.

(listen, LISTEN, i love rarepairs and my god, this was written so fucking well and made me laugh multiple times. also, hikaru sulu is a bamf and i love when people portray him as the competent man he is! seriously, please give this a try, you won't regret it!)

freefall (flying) by tantamoq

Ship: Jim Kirk/Hikaru Sulu

Kirk is used to falling - what he isn't prepared for is the moment when he might actually hit the ground.

(again! a must read for this rarepair that i've fallen in love with nfewiofewa. seriously, i'm in a hole and i WILL drag people down with me! the potential of this relationship is too much! too powerful! please give it a go, i swear you won't regret it! this fic is fantastic!!)

Quirks and Their Side Effects by highschool-facelesshellion (orphan_account)

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

Jim Kirk's always been a weirdo. Leonard could use some more weird.

(YES! LET THEM BE WEIRD!! truly, i accept every headcanon and everything this fic has spoken into the world, it's too good not to be true. i actually cried at some parts, you'll know which just from reading it. their friendship/queer-romantic or whatever the hell these two have here is so fucking good and i love it so so much!! seriously, please please read!!)

Long Road Home by EternalSheWolf for eyres

“It’s the greatest ship ever built.” His voice cracks, and he tells himself it’s because he’s been speaking for probably days now and he’s thirsty and his throat is probably bleeding and Bones will kill him, goddamit, Jim – A tear leaks out of the corner of his eye. “I want to go home.” He whispers.

(every time. every fucking time god damn it. *sobbing*)

Houses Made Of Earth by nsmorig for oneatatime

Ship: Spock/Leonard McCoy

In which Spock moves in with, uses the first name of, and falls in love with, Leonard McCoy. More-or-less in that order.

(okay, i just love the author and how they write. full stop. the slow building relationship and understanding between bones and spock was so rewarding and sweet. it's very introspective on both sides and explores what troubles and life changing things they're each going through, while also changing what they thought about the other. it's slow and thoughtful and pulled me in bit by bit. i absolutely recommend both the fic and this author in general, it's so good!!)

Pavlov's Cuddles by InsaneSociopath

Ships: Jim Kirk/Spock, Philip Boyce/Christopher Pike

Chris decides the absolute best way to get Jim to behave is to classically condition him using candy. Because. Um. That's perfectly normal and acceptable right?

(the entire premise of this fic sounds so weird but it works! jim is autistic and chris is deeply, truly weird. his whole relationship with boyce made me cackle so much! boyce has to suffer through chris's shenanigans and yet enables him constantly so he only has himself to blame lmao! and spock! is so cute and every time he showed up it's amazing haha! if you just want to have a good time and watch a successful trainwreck of a man try and adopt jim kirk, this is 100% for you lol)

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[The Witcher] (yup! again. these idiots won't leave me alone)

The Neverending Jaskier by TheSilverQueen

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Geralt goes fishing for a djinn to solve his sleeplessness. He is not expecting to fish up a man instead. Especially not a cursed, eternally doomed to resurrect bard of a man.

(i know this sounds ridiculous, but the author is just so good at making it believable. i love how geralt slowly starts to fall for jaskier, it's gradual and heartfelt and he doesn't want it lol. and so many of his problems are solved just because of sequence of events and how ridiculous jaskier is, which amuses me a lot. please read!)

in the belly of the beast by TheSilverQueen

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

On the fifth day after Jaskier is swallowed alive by a lake monster, he meets a Witcher.

Part 8 of The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge

(the concept was so funny that i had to read it. and i was right, it's hilarious! seriously, please read! it made me laugh like a hyena and i never once thought someone can draw inspiration from fullmetal alchemist like this. the fact this is the same author right above has me believing they're just really good at making wild premises work lol. it's amazing!)

no reason to run by SummerFrost

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back." What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love. Or: When Jaskier is hit with a curse that prevents him from having sex, he's lucky that the first person he meets is a Witcher. It's even luckier that Jaskier is used to hitting the road, because Geralt isn't waiting up.

(this fic has everything! it's hilarious, it's soft and tender, and it makes me want to hang it up on a wall for posterity. it's romantic, in the sense that jaskier sees the beauty of everything around him and geralt can't help but be drawn in by it. i couldn't help but be drawn in by it. also, it's so incredibly poly and i love that aspect of the fic, it painted love as such a giving yet selfish act and it's beautiful because of it. as geralt said in this fic, jaskier is a poet, ergo, the author is a goddamn poet and it shows. seriously, please read, it's so damn good!)

Keeping Crows by Castillon02

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

If it was some kind of weird religious thing, it was for a god Geralt had never heard of. Probably it was just a weird Jaskier thing. Crows, of all creatures! Corpse eaters. Grain stealers. No one liked crows. But Jaskier was voluntarily traveling with a Witcher; maybe he just had poor taste.

(the metaphor!! geralt is a crow! jaskier loves things that aren't meant to be loved and is loved back for it! also, i personally just love crows so this love letter for them had me kicking my feet in delight. seriously, please please read! i want to hug this to my chest and sleep with it, it was so warm.)

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[Harry Potter & Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them] (yeah, i know, what?? i don't know what to tell you fnewpfwa)

Preantepenultimate by lonerofthepack

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander

Newt Scamander had not intended to return to New York, much less the Woolworth building. Nevertheless, he arrived on the second of May, bedraggled and soaking from the spring rains with his arm trapped in a junior auror's grip, and just in time to make himself useful. Percival Graves has survived Grindelwald, with the scars to show for it, and returned to his role as Director of Magical Security despite a newly developed difficulty in speaking aloud. When Theseus Scamander’s younger brother gets dragged into the bullpen at precisely the right moment to be helpful, Graves seizes the opportunity to bring in a magizoologist for a sorely needed fledgling Beasts division, and a battle-tested asset into the MACUSA fold. Perhaps he should have expected chaos to follow in the path of a dragon rider.

Part 4 of Reticence 'verse

(*buries face in hands* fnewiofae it's so goddamn jane austen. the slow building romance, the respect they have for each other, the fact there's a freaking marriage of convenience plot that isn't contrived and makes sense, all of it! a victorian romance? in 1920s new york?? more likely than you think. god, i got so obsessed while reading this and flew through it in 2 days, it's so good!! and the fact that they show! real actual repercussions of graves imprisonment by grindlewald! he's selectively mute and the author expands how he now manages to live with it in a world where he went through something so traumatic is *chefs kiss* brilliant! and newt is so competent and graves recognizes that and is competent himself and i just, god, GOD, this is the best characterization for this ship i've ever seen, i love it so so much nfiewopewa. seriously, please please read this! i'm obsessed!!!)

Ad Sistendam Furto Magicae by InsaneSociopath

Ships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley

Hermione is all out of fucks to give. Ron and Harry reluctantly approve.

(time travel fic! a solid, fantastic read and i loved every minute of it! and the fact there's a tag specifically saying they stan ron is all it took to win me over lol. god, it's so hard to find a good ron in fics, drives me mad. if you want to have a fun time and watch as the trio run wild through hogwarts, this is definitely for you :D)

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[Buffy the Vampire Slayer] (look it's just one series that i immediately got obsessed with. but it made my month so i NEED to recommend it NOW.)

wouldn't it be nice? (in the kind of world where we belonged) by SummerFrost

Ship: Spike/Buffy

Spike is still beneath her, so hard he's vibrating, and a second ago she was living in this amazing, perfect, fresh piece of Dubble Bubble bubblegum world. A second ago, she loved him. Or: The thing about Willow's will-be-done spell is that, yeah, obviously it sucks that it happened with Spike. But now that all those totally fake lovey-dovey feelings are gone, Buffy is starting to worry that she'll never get them back—with anyone. Too bad the only person who might understand is her mortal enemy.

Part 1 of wouldn't it be nice?

(*deep breath* i need this like i need air. i don't really go for buffy fics but fuck, this is incredible. it's the same author who wrote one of the witcher fics on this list and their writing is just as beautiful here. it really looks at the aftermath of the episode something blue and what it means for both spike and buffy. and as for the rest of this series, it continues on to later seasons of buffy and how spike and buffy being an established relationship changes things in the future. this is the most healthy version of the buffy/spike ship i've ever seen and it's honestly heartbreaking to think about what could've happened if they had just talked to each other. this has become one of my favorite buffy fics ever and i absolutey recommend this to people, it's brilliant!)

-

[Dimension 20] (i'm so random. also, currently watching unsleeping city s2 so i'm probably gonna rec more fics in the future, not sure)

the i love you fic by jorjudje

Fandom: Fantasy High

a scenario for each and every bad kids duo in which they tell each other they love them.

(this is the sweetest fantasy high fic in the fandom, i will die on this hill!! they love each other so much! the most friendship fic to ever friendship!! god, this made me want to watch fantasy high all over again, i love the bad kids so much fneiwofpewa)

everyone's a pessimist, I see a future painted in pink by HighAsAFlyingFish

Fandom: Fantasy High

Early Freshman year the newly formed Bad Kids run into themselves from the future. Or maybe a future? Who knows, time travel is weird, have another ice cream.

(time travel time travel time travel!! seeing how much the bad kids have grown up compared to freshman year always makes me feel teary eyed. and also cackle like a hyena, the freshmen have NO context on ANYTHING and it's hilarious XD)

Modify Memory by foxfantasma

Fandom: The Unsleeping City

“Pete,” the first man says slowly, like he’s trying to calm a spooked child. “What’s my name?” “Kingston,” Pete answers automatically, the feelings of trust and home and a fragment of being shouted at in a bodega he’s never been to all conflicting and coexisting in his skull. He hasn’t tripped this bad since the episode that had gotten him on the antipsychotics in the first place, and even this makes that look like a walk in the park. He can’t afford to get sent back to the hospital, not without insurance, and he really needs to get it together before someone calls an ambulance, or worse, the cops. “You’re Kingston Brown,” he says firmly, hopes to everything there is that he’s right. Or: Pete doesn’t remember being awakened to the Unsleeping City and has a rough time //Chapter two is Kingston’s pov

(i just finished watching s1 and immediately started hunting for kingston and pete friendship fics cause i NEEDED it. and then i found this and wow, it's such a great character study for both pete and kingston, i loved it! please read!!)

-

[Deadpool and Wolverine] (we're back bitches)

Rotten Ones by atimefeeler

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

“Oh my god,” Wade said. “I’m an idiot.” “Yes. And?” Logan snapped. “I forgot Logan died in 2029,” Wade said, horrified. “It’s 2024." ... (It's okay, Wade. The writers forgot too.) Deadpool and The Worst Wolverine join forces with the X-Men to save Laura and the kids from Project X-23, stop the Westchester Event, and prevent mutant extinction. Oh, and they also fall in love while they do it.

(i combed through so many fics and found this gem among the rubble of my search. it's soft and full of hurt/comfort, yet also plot driven and full of character interactions and moments between wolverine and the x-men of deadpool's timeline. and i have so much respect for the author's attempt to make sense of fox's bizarre timeline of events for the x-men series lol. i'm so invested in this fic and the slow burn between logan and wade has me kicking my feet in delight, it's wonderful! seriously, please read! i'm so glad i found this!)

Harvest Moon by SlugSniffing

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Logan still can't recall anything from his past, no matter where he goes or who he speaks to. He's at the end of his rope when a mercenary crash-lands at his feet in Bobby Drake's kitchen. (set during the events of X2 - consider this X2 featuring Deadpool-movieverse Deadpool, complete with Origins-era Wade backstory.)

(i'm not fucking kidding when i say i think the author is deapool, their end notes always has me fucking cackling, they sound exactly like him it's amazing. truly, this fic is so damn good and the writing is stellar! there were so many moments where i actually started crying because the emotions the author managed to convey got too fucking real, my GOD. and the plot! wow!! deadpool is inserted in the plot so seamlessly that i honestly wish i could watch this version of events play out on the big screen, it's so much fun! and heartbreaking! seriously, please read this, i'm so so excited to see what happens next and so will you!)

Mr. Forgettable by Arwriter

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Wade’s off the couch, moving slowly until he’s standing right in front of Logan. He’s eyeing him carefully, thoughtfully, like he can piece together a solution to whatever the hell is happening right now. “You’re not just doing this so you can get out of buying dinner, are you?" “Fuck you.” Or: Even if he can't quite place his face, Logan doesn't think he could ever forget Wade Wilson.

(i both want to punch and hug logan, he's really going Through It. this fic is both incredibly angsty yet sweet at the same time, amnesic logan deserves a damn hug! and wade is Suffering and just as bad as him. god, they're so dumb nfewiofpewa)

[venusinthesun]

ok who are the women that you personally think are loser yearners within the fandoms you have currently written for. Like they just strike the vibe of yearning for you while stalking watching you from afar, dreaming of the day they tell you how they really feel

Obey me, genshin, wuwa

Cw: implied yandere and mentions of 18+ topics

This was so fun to write! Also if anybody else is reading this, my asks are open for these fandoms :) I may not respond to all though!

Fem! Obey me:

Leviathan takes number one, no question. She just thinks so lowly of herself, locking herself away in her room and playing anime games all day. She can’t possibly imagine coming up to you—the most perfect, gorgeous person she’s ever seen in her life! She’ll absolutely watch you from afar, looking up from her Nintendo switch at the dinner table to sneak a glance. She’s obsessed. When she shamefully opens up her more 18+ tabs at night, she looks for characters that look like you.

Mammon is a close second, but less…greasy. As your number one, she will practically follow you around everywhere. Around the house, around the school, around the everywhere. Unlike her sister, she actually talks to you! She’s fun and charming, and you have no idea how much she wants you. She likes to imagine little fantasies during class about you two together, and she wants the perfect day to come by when she can finally make you hers.

Hear me out on Simeon doing something like this. She’s such a perfect angel, proud of her wings and celestia…and she absolutely yearns for you. She wants you so badly as you two talk, her eyes capturing every detail about you and to save it for later. She knows it’s wrong, to watch over you like this, but she needs you. She can’t let demons ruin what’s hers.

Fem! Genshin:

Kaveh anon this is for you

Kaveh. She tries her best to play it cool, being the calm and collected person she knows she can be—but you make it so hard. She’s watching you from across the room, scanning over everything about the way you look today, the way you smile. She has so much work to do, and so little sleep, talking to you is basically out of the question. But that doesnt mean she can’t get a little close while throwing away her trash, getting to see your face just a little bit closer this time (it’s her new favorite memory).

Xiao, definitely. She’s too nervous to do anything that watch you from treetops or while you sleep. She makes her way inside your hotel room while you visit the Inn, looking over (she likes to call it protecting) while you sleep. Sometimes you see her, staring at you while standing on a tree branch. It’s a bit scary, but it doesn’t stop you from coming over to say hi! Unfortunately, it also doesn’t stop her from vanishing and trying to rationalize why she didn’t just go for it.

The original “I’m scared of people”, shenhe. She doesn’t come into the harbor often, choosing to stay in the abode with her master more than having to control herself around large groups of people; but it is a treat when she sees you around the city. Shenhe chooses to stay more in the back, the shadows between alleyways as she follows you. Shenhe doesn’t even quite know it’s creepy, just that she wants to know more. She goes back to cloud retainer with a new thing to think about, dreaming of you.

Wuthering waves

Shorekeeper. Mostly in part to the fact for a long time she couldn’t really…move without using her hologram. She likes seeing your around the blackshores, making sure to keep extra tabs on you and where your going. She wants you badly, and when it gets so bad, she sometimes sends a little blue butterfly your way. Shorekeeper is also prone to using any information saved about you in the system to learn more.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Also I'm unsure if you've been asked this before, but how would Geno and colors interactions be like? I randomly thought of them today so

I haven’t fully finished reading Aftertale, so I can’t give detailed dynamics at this moment (someone who knows Geno and his character well can potentially step in?), but I do know that Color’s character and design was inspired by a mix between Seraphim!Sans and Geno.

It’s to my understanding that other than the wound across their chests and something being up with one of their eye sockets, they were also both separated from their loved ones and kept trapped somewhere and potentially replaced by another.

Color was thrown into the Void alongside Gaster. His existence was completely forgotten and almost completely overwritten, with Undyne taking his place and role. Geno was in the SAVE screen, and was eventually joined by his timeline’s Frisk.

I’m uncertain if people forgot about him, but given the existence of another Sans, im assuming so—or at least, they didn’t realize their Sans was any different from Geno. I need to re read the comics at some point.

It’s to my understanding that Geno has/had plans to destroy his timeline/universe, wanting to end Papyrus’ suffering? I find that interesting when it comes to Color, mostly because Core Frisk confronted him once, about worries he’d turn out in a bad way.

I don’t remember the exact words they said to him at the moment, but given their knowledge of the Multiverse and the like, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were expressing concerns that Color would start thinking similarly to Geno.

Either wanting to end the timeline/universe to end suffering, or more character specific to Color’s situation, either for means such as revenge or what Color perceived as justice.

When Color confronts Undyne in the first part of Othertale and punches her, not only was the punch completely unnecessary, not only was the scaring her beforehand unwarranted, but we also see her both creeping up on her from behind and glaring at her too. His flames and eyes are yellow, implying he was filled with or influenced by Justice in that moment.

Another thing that’s different between Geno and Color, from what I see mentioned on the wiki at least (which im aware could be incorrect), is that Geno can control memories—can remove and restore them, which Color cannot, despite how much he definitely—desperately—would want to.

Color is forgotten, despite everything. And he cannot change that. Despite how angry and devastated it makes him, how much it hurts him.

Color also does not have Determination, he cannot control the Resets, although he has a close thing in the form of Perseverance.

That’s all I can really think of at the moment until I find out more about Aftertale and Geno. I’ve also seen Geno and Color’s duo being called sliceings (slice + siblings) before, which i thought was kinda funny.

[guccugang]

~~PARTY FEVER~~

Bangchan x reader

PARTY FEVER

bangchan x reader fanfic

MDNI !!

you and Chan were at a party and you couldn’t help but notice another woman had her eyes glued to your dear husband. All you had to do was figure out how you were going to deal with it.

IB: another ff I read called “miss possessive” by @aeliuss. PLS GO CHECK IT OUT ITS AMAZING🩷

You and Chan were at a fashion event in Milan for Fendi. He was wearing a sophisticated navy blue suit, featuring striking red piping along the edges, a structured fit with sharp lapels, gold button details on the cuffs, and a decorative brooch on the lapel for an elegant touch. Paired with matching navy trousers and a sleek black dress shirt. 

You were wearing a red dress with a

shimmering, fitted velvet bodice with a high halter neckline. The dramatic skirt showcases cascading layers of sheer, glittering fabric. The rich color and sparkling details enhance its exotic, luxurious appeal.

The two of you were sitting at a table drinking until Chan got up.

“I have to say hello to a friend, I’ll be right back, love”

He kissed your cheek before he went to go greet his friend. Admiring his enthusiasm. you loved how much of a social butterfly he was, being able to make conversation with almost anybody, always a smile on his face.

While you were busy admiring your man, you couldn’t help but notice someone else was doing the same thing. It was another woman. She was staring him down like a tall glass of water, damn near undressing him with her eyes.

Who did she think she was? Eyes fixed on your beloved husband. While you were busy thinking about just what the fuck was wrong with her, Chan couldn’t help but notice you sulking. He knew you better than anyone. He knew when you were happy. He knew when you were mad. And he definitely knew when you were giving someone a dirty look. But what he didn’t know was why. 

“Excuse me!”

he wraps up the conversation before making his way back over to you, sitting down while rubbing his up and down your back to calm you down. 

“Are you ok, love? Whats wrong?”

He asked, trying to see what irritated his wife so bad to where she wasn’t even enjoying a party. 

“Nothing. Go back to your friend, don’t worry about me”

Chan frowned, his expression concerned as he continued rubbing your back in soothing circles. He knew you too well to believe that there was nothing bothering you.

"Hey, come on now," 

he said gently.

"You can tell me what's wrong. Don't pretend like I can't tell something's upsetting you."

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it”

He could feel the tension in your muscles, the way your body was slightly rigid under his touch. He knew that you were trying to keep something from him, and he wasn't going to let it go so easily.

"Tell me, love. I want to help."

He moved his hand from your back to your chin, gently turning your face towards him so that he could look into your eyes. 

“That girl over there, her”

you pointed to the woman in the green as Chan’s eyes darted to where your hand was, intrigued by who you could be talking about

“She’s been staring at you all night”

Chan followed your gaze to the woman you were pointing at, his eyes narrowing as he spotted her. He had noticed her eyeing him throughout the evening, but had written it off as harmless flirtation.

But the look on your face, the way your voice sounded, it was clear that this was bothering you more than he had originally thought.

"Her?"

he asked, looking back at you.

"You're worried about her? Why?"

You looked at him disoriented, how could he ask such an obvious question?

“Why? What do you mean ‘why’? She’s been staring you down all night! Doesn’t she see that ring on your finger?”

You pouted, visibly irritated by both Chan’s question and the woman in the green as you took another sip from your drink.

Chan chuckled lightly, amused by your reaction but trying to keep a serious face. He reached over and took your drink from your hand, setting it down on the table. His gaze softened as he took in your pouty expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Why are you so jealous?”

he teased, his tone playful.

“You know I'm all yours."

He kissed your forehead, reassuring you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"You know I don't care about that. I'm here with you, and I only have eyes for you."

He squeezed your hand gently, hoping to calm you down.

You giggled to yourself softly, blushing at his affection for you. Despite your initial irritation, you couldn't help but feel yourself melting at Chan's words and the feel of his hand holding yours. You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I know."

you said eventually, sighing softly.

"I just... I hate seeing other women looking at you like that.”

Chan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He knew how possessive you could get, but he also found it endearing. 

"What, are you jealous?”

he teased, his tone lighthearted.

“You have no reason to be jealous, love. You know I would never even look at other women the way I look at you"

You melted into his endearing words as your annoyance started to fade away as you felt Chan's touch, his words soothing your heart and melting away your irritations. You found yourself unable to resist the warm feeling that filled your heart when he spoke to you like that.

He pulled you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you in against his chest. His free hand moved up to cup your face, thumb gently tracing your cheekbone as he looked down at you with a fond smile.

But, that feeling didn’t last for long as you felt a pair of eyes burning into your head. To your unfortunate surprise, it was her again, the woman in the green, staring you down as if you had offended her entire bloodline.

You felt Chan's grip tighten on your waist, his body tensing slightly as he noticed the exchange as well. He leaned down to mutter in your ear, his voice low and a hint of warning.

"Just ignore her, baby. She's not worth your attention."

You thought of just ignoring until you got a  idea. With a mischievous grin on your face, your turned back to Chan. 

“You’re right, she doesn’t.”

With that, you pulled Chan by his collar, his face inches away from yours, and kissed him. It messed up your lipgloss, but it didn’t matter, as long as that little green bitch was looking. To no one’s surprise, she was, she was looking at you with such despise and hatred, it kinda turned you on. 

When you finally pulled away, Chan you looked at you in shock, a small trail of saliva pulling from your mouths. 

Chan's eyes widened in surprise as you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. His initial shock quickly melted away, replaced by a mix of desire and amusement as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the hunger in your kiss, and it drove him wild. But as he pulled back, he couldn't help but chuckle softly, his gaze locked on your face.

“What was that for, love?”

He smirked, his voice rough with desire and need.

You smirked back, feeling a wave of confidence wash over you as you saw the effect your actions had on him. You didn’t feel the need to respond to his question, the look of anger and jealousy other woman’s face was enough for your satisfaction. 

“Chris… you’re so handsome today.”

You cooed, whispering in his ear while tugging at the hems of his sleeve. 

Chan's smirk softened into a small smile as he felt your breath against his ear, the sound of your voice sending shivers down his spine. He leaned into you, his body pressing against yours as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Hmm, is that so?”

he murmured, his voice low and sensual. You looked back over to the woman in the green. To no one’s surprise, she was still staring, still over there looking like a tomato. You noticed she was looking directly at you. With a big smile on your face, you winked at her, turning back over to your husband. 

Chan noticed this little stare down happening between you and her. He couldn’t help but laugh at it a little. 

“You’re so evil.”

He chuckled, still rubbing his hand up and down your back. You chuckled softly, relishing in the feeling of Chan's hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You knew you were being petty, but you couldn't help but tease the woman in the green.

"Me? Evil? Never, I'm just having a little fun,"

you replied, your voice playful.

“Besides, it's her fault for staring at my husband like he's a piece of meat."

Chan chuckled again, shaking his head in amusement at your antics. Chan stifled a laugh at your comment, his hand still rubbing your back affectionately. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“You know, you’re so cute when you’re possessive. Are you jealous?”

He said, his voice amused. 

You were taken aback by his sudden choice of words but you responded anyway. 

“Me? Jealous? Of course not. It’s just annoying to see people stare at you I guess. But it’s also fun to mess with them.”

She giggled. Chan couldn’t help but laugh at your response, a mix of amusement and affection filling his features. He loved how playful you were being, how carefree and confident you seemed in the moment.

"You're going to give her a heart attack if you keep this up,"

he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You shrugged nonchalantly, a sly smile still playing on your lips as you leaned up against him.

“she should know better than to stare at other people's husbands like that,"

you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

“Besides, it's not like she stood a chance with you anyway."

You smirked confidently, grabbing chan’s hand in yours, kissing it gently. 

Chan's smirk widened into a full-blown smile at your words. He loved seeing you so confident and possessive, the way you were so boldly claiming him as yours. The more the woman in the green looked on, the more his heart swelled with affection for you.

"That's true,"

He agreed, his tone teasing.

“I only have eyes for one woman, and she's sitting right here, holding my hand."

You smiled back at Chan's words, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sincerity in his tone. It was true, you knew he only had eyes for you, and nothing could change that. But it didn't stop the feeling of satisfaction that coursed through you every time you saw him rejecting other women. Even if some of them were so very shameless.

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the warmth radiate from his touch. You kissed his cheek once more, rubbing your hand on his thigh while laying your head on his shoulder. 

Chan felt his heart skip a beat as you kissed his cheek, his body responding to your touch in an instant. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently into his lap and holding you close against his chest. 

He couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment as he held you in his arms, relishing the feeling of your body against his.

Chan's cheeks tinged pink as he stood up from the table, unable to keep the smile off his face as he looked down at you. He gently placed a hand on your waist, guiding you to stand up next to him.

"I think we should go,"

he said softly, his voice low.

"I'd rather spend some alone time with my gorgeous wife."

THE END

I’m sorry if it was short/boring. I’m new to writing stuff like this and I don’t know if it sounds good or not💔

[sthilarions]

@thestrangerblog

Hmm. So “sodomite” has historically had a lot of definitions; using it to refer exclusively to bestiality is technically one of them but definitely the rarest, and I certainly wouldn’t consider it the modern definition - I’ve never heard someone using it to mean that in my lifetime. (I suspect this is a cultural/regional matter; I believe you live in Germany?)

(Please note that I am an academic specializing in queer history BUT this is not my area of subspecialty and I didn’t feel like dipping into actual academic databases today bc I started writing this at 5AM, so if anyone has better information, please feel encouraged to input. Also, apologies for the horrible formatting, I’m on my phone.)

So roughly pre-Christ we don’t see much specificity to the sin of Sodom; people don’t refer to sodomy or to “sodomite” without a capital letter because it didn’t mean anything particular.

Around the time of Christianity, we start seeing it linked with male homosexuality. This is from a fellow named Philo, describing the people of Sodom, around 20BCE-50 CE:

“those who were men lusted after one another, doing unseemly things, and not regarding or respecting their common nature… and so by degrees, the men became accustomed to be treated like women, and in this way engendered among themselves the disease of females, and intolerable evil; for they not only, as to effeminacy and delicacy, became like women in their persons, but they also made their souls most ignoble, corrupting in this way the whole race of men, as far as depended on them.”

So he’s not only describing homosexual acts as being the characteristic of Sodom, he’s also saying they made Sodom’s men, well, gay in a pejorative sense, not to put too fine a point on it, which is fascinating if you know much about the history of how people treated homosexual activity. But at this time there still wasn’t really a term “sodomy” (or sodomite as anything other than a citizen of Sodom).

So we jump forward then to Emperor Justinian, in the 500s CE (quote is from Wikipedia):

“The first attested applications of the word "sodomy" to male homosexual intercourse were Emperor Justinian I's amendments to his Corpus iuris civilis; novels no. 77 (dating 538) and no. 141 (dating 559) declared that Sodom's sin had been specifically same-sex activities and desire for them.”

Now, between then and Dante’s time, there seems to have been some wavering about whether sodomy meant homosexual intercourse or any non-procreative intercourse. However, the temporally closest influential source I could find to the publication of the Inferno (which was in 1321) was Thomas Aquinas in his Summa Theologica, written in the late 1200s, defining sodomy as follows:

“by copulation with an undue sex, male with male, or female with female, as the Apostle states (Romans 1:27): and this is called the ‘vice of sodomy’.”

The Summa Theologica was Dante’s primary influence in the Divine Comedy, so this is presumably the definition he was using. Again from Wikipedia:

“[Aquinas’s Summa Theologica] had such a great influence on Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy that Dante's epic poem has been called ‘the Summa in verse’.”

Okay, jumping forward again. In the 1700s, “sodomite” was pretty thoroughly locked in as meaning a man who engages in homosexual acts.

Cocker's English Dictionary: Interpreting the most refined and difficult words, by Edward Cocker. London, 1704.

Catamite, a boy hired to be used contrary to nature, for Sodomy…

Sodomitical, one gilty of the horrid sin of

Sodomy, Male venery, or buggery: A

Sodomite in which City of Sodom, this wickedness was first committed, that we read of.

The English Expositor Improv'd, by J.B. [John Bullokar], revised by R. B rowne. London, 1707.

Catamite. A Ganymede, or Ingle; that is, a Boy hired to be us'd contrary to Nature, to commit Sodomy with.

Sodomy. Masculine Venery, Buggery, first known to have been used among the People of Sodom.

Cocker's English Dictionary, by Edward Cocker, 3rd edition, London, 1724:

Sodomy, Male-Venery, for which Sodom was destroyed.

A New English Dictionary: Or, A Compleat Collection Of the Most Proper and Significant Words and Terms of Art, Commonly used in the Language, Third Edition, By. J. K. [Kersey], London, 1731:

A Sodomite, one that commits

Sodomy, i.e. Buggery, a heinous Crime, so called because the Inhabitants of Sodom were notoriously guilty of it.

A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, (by Grose), London, 1785:

MOLLY, a miss Molly, an effeminate fellow, a sodomite.

WINDWARD PASSAGE, one who uses, or navigates the windward passage, a sodomite.

(The definition of “Molly” is interesting because it again explicitly ties in the act with effeminacy and identity.)

Closer to Edwin’s time, in Britain, it was slightly less clear; at this point we’re getting into the time period of “anti-sodomy laws”. Quoth Wikipedia:

“Section 61 of the Offences against the Person Act 1861, entitled "Sodomy and Bestiality", defined punishments for "the abominable Crime of Buggery, committed either with Mankind or with any Animal". The punishment for those convicted was the death penalty until 1861 in England and Wales, and 1887 in Scotland. James Pratt and John Smith were the last two to be executed for sodomy in England in 1835. However, all homoerotic acts could be prosecuted under the 1533 law as they were all treated by the courts as "attempts" to commit the felony (sodomy) whether there had been an actual attempt to commit anal intercourse or not.”

Please note that the 1861 law is entitled “Sodomy AND Bestiality”, ie, these were considered separate non-overlapping offenses; sodomy was buggery with mankind, bestiality was buggery with an animal.

(Also, sidenote, those last people executed in England for sodomy, James Pratt and John Smith, were executed for private and consensual sex with each other, 65 years before Edwin was born. They were not the last people de facto executed for sodomy in England, however; Turing, for example, famously died as a pretty direct consequence of chemical castration as a penalty for homosexuality, in 1954. The “Alan Turing Law”, incidentally, in 2017 posthumously pardoned James Pratt and John Smith.)

However, judicial precedent in Britain around this time defined both sodomy and buggery rather more loosely than the actual laws themselves seem to have intended, or than common use seems to have implied.

Really, however, the ultimate operative factor is what sodomy was considered to mean when the Dead Boy Detectives comics initially defined Edwin’s Hell as running eternally in circles, and when the show refined the Hell business as being explicitly linked to him being gay (in that while he was in Hell on a technicality, he ended up there because of homophobia), in the places that these were written.

Unfortunately I am running out of steam and not up to the massive amount of citation this would take but long story short, “anti-sodomy laws” still extant in the relevant regions by that point had mostly been refined to explicitly only include homosexual acts. And in modern context in those regions, sodomy laws are basically the only context the word still appears. Quoth the Merriam-Webster dictionary:

“The word sodomy has a long history of use in reference to culturally stigmatized sex acts, and often specifically to sex acts between people of the same sex. In current usage, the term occurs most commonly in contexts relating to laws against such acts (called sodomy laws). In 2003, the U.S. Supreme Court held laws against consensual sex acts between adults of the same sex to be unconstitutional.”

Also from Merriam-Webster:

“sodomite, noun

…

often offensive

: someone who practices sodomy —used as a term of abuse and disparagement for a gay person”

Here’s the Cambridge Dictionary:

“sodomite, noun [ C ] old use or disapproving

…

a word, usually used as an insult, for a person who practices sodomy (= anal sex):

- [Example:] a military man who was convicted of being gay (a sodomite, as it was then called)”

SO ANYWAY

Very very long story short, while historically the term “sodomy” has varied in definition, in the context of Dante, of Edwin, of the writing of the DBD comics, and of the writing of the DBD show, “sodomite” pretty solidly meant “gay man”, “gay person”, or at minimum “person who engages in same-sex activity”.

I was just working on an entire long post about Dante’s Inferno and Edwin but got distracted because I learned that the Inferno punishment for Sodomites is to run eternally in circles [over burning sand with fire rain].

Running… eternally… in circles.

Hmm.

Fascinating.

[moonamite]

Haha what a silly character I relate to on a normal level :)

I wish we’d have him in season 3 depressed and miserable and aimless. We get to see him struggling. He stood up to his abuser and he feels no sense of victory or peace. If anything, all he wants to do is go to him and apologize, and beg for forgiveness- Even if he’d probably face even worse treatment as punishment for his betrayal, which in his mind, would be deserved.

Johnny was all he’s ever had, companion-wise and motivation-wise. This new freedom is terrifying to him— How do you adapt to freedom when the cage is all you’ve ever known? He’d be confused and in shock, probably withdrawing into isolation until he physically or financially can’t.

Chet seems to be isolated— And knowing Johnny, this may have been intentional, always keeping Chet too busy to maintain any relationships, and keeping him from his old fraternity brothers, leaving him entirely reliant on him.

So now he’d be completely alone, with nobody to tell him where to go or what to do, which, for over two decades, has been the only life he’s ever known. Even when he’s gone, he can still feel Johnnys influence. Pretty much everything he’s ever done has been for or was influenced by Johnny, whether directly or indirectly, and now that’s all gone and there’s a void in his heart and he feels like he’ll die if it’s not filled.

And none of the other characters really interact with Chet, and according to his planner, the only time he meets with other monsters is for work related reasons. Since his schedule revolves around Johnny, I’m lead to believe that the “Lunch with (ROR member)” stuff is meant to mean it’s Johnny meeting up with them, not Chet- hence why he writes “Hopefully next time I’ll get to attend as well.”

The only other monster he interacts with in the show as well as the only one who’d maybe notice and/or care to help him is Tylor— Actually, pause. That could pose as a potentially interesting dynamic that can be explored; Chets’ apprehensiveness towards Tylor caused by how he’d managed to become the center of Johnnys’ attention in such a short time. That, and, well… The uncanny resemblance he holds with Johnny.

Oh, and also he’s definitely on Randall’s revenge list. So that’s fun.

[here-for-the-vibe]

Thanks for the tag losty!! :) [for the record you ARE good at making people laugh online, I can attest to that personally]

what’s the origin of your blog title? I was going for something simple and vague because my interests change with the wind, so I landed on the name “here-for-the-vibe” because I am in fact here for the vibes

otp(s) + shipname(s):

Stranger Things: Will Byers and Mike Wheeler (ie Byler, tho I am partial to the cleradin variant) and also Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler ie Jancy (my parents)

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger from Harry Potter ie Romione, my very first otp

Kit Voss and Randolph Bell ie Kitbell from The Resident, also my parents

favorite color: Never been able to pick, but it’s between purple, blue and green

song stuck in your head: Feast or Famine from Starkid’s Black Friday. I’ve been itching to write an analysis of it.

weirdest habit/trait: ok so I thought, like losty, that I should ask other people this, and bc I sent this question to a group chat I have two hilarious answers:

I “sometimes move like I’m having a seizure” by which she meant my random erratic hand movements that some might call “stims” but I just call me being fidgety

I “randomly break into dance” which is not only correct but also says everything you need to know about me

hobbies: I’m busy with other things a lot but when I have the time, I bake, write, read a bunch, and I also specifically write political/current events pieces that I will never post anywhere

if you work, what’s your profession? I’m a student so I fear I’ve never worked, my job rn is being a suck up to adults and trying to get into a good university

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Either a journalist or a zookeeper. Maybe both. I love both educating with and advocating for the truth, and I also wanna cuddle a tiger. So…

something you’re good at: making people like me, sounds weird but I apparently have a very welcoming aura (or everyone is lying to me)

something you hate: Anti-intellectualism. Specifically the kind that includes being antivax and anti-modern medicine. Nothing makes me more upset.

something you collect: Keychains. I have way too many and not nearly enough keys.

something you forget: birthdays… not exactly ideal…

what’s your love language: this took me a second to think about but I’ve gotta say it’s somewhere between physical touch and sheer devotion. You say jump, I ask how high. You want cuddles, have a million. As with most devoted people… I tend to get fucked over a lot.

favorite movie/show: this is a hard one, because it’s shockingly not Stranger Things, as much as I adore it. I’d say my favorite movie is probably The Mitchells vs The Machines (not the most profound but I identify with it a fair bit) and my favorite show is DEFINITELY Heartstopper (I’ve broken down in tears more than once over it)

favorite food: I’m guessing coffee doesn’t count, in which case I’ll say eggs (all kinds. every single one.)

favorite animal: turtles because I live with one and he’s so spoiled, tardigrades (MY GOD THEY’RE SO COOL), also do prehistoric animals count because trilobites and the sacabambaspis are hilarious

what were you like as a child: I had barely any concept of boundaries and empathy so I was kinda evil. Still managed to make adults like me though. Was also strong headed, sometimes to my detriment. Shockingly unbridled internet access was actually what FIXED me bc I was sheltered as hell, so being exposed to different types of people made sure I didn’t grow up to be a bigot (rip my parents they didn’t get to make me homophobic before ff.net made me gay)

favorite subject at school: Can’t pick between Math, Literature and History. My brain works sequentially like a computer so Math, but if you’ve known me a while you know why I like History and Lit (they helped me understand things and I like Understanding Things)

least favorite subject: Art and French. My art teacher was evil and French as a language just never agreed with me. One of the only things I remember from French is the sentence “Je deteste le français” (‘I hate French’)

what’s your best character trait: Answering questions like this always makes me feel like a narcissist but I’ll try. My mother always says that I’m “the kind of person that will see someone sitting alone and go talk to them” so I guess I’ll go with that?

what’s your worst character trait: It’s either my pathological people pleasing or the fact that I always find myself not keeping my promises. Contradictory but alas.

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I wish my family wasn’t homophobic, considering that I’m queer and I kinda sorta live with them. I wish more than anything that I could introduce my girlfriend to them and have them welcome her the way they would if it was my brother introducing his girlfriend.

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? My first thought for this was “Donald Trump as a baby so I could kill him” but I’d like to change my answer to myself ten years from now so I could ask her if I should even bother at this point because it feels like I lose more hope everyday

ok I realize some of these answers are a bit dark but I swear I’m fine

Npt: @lesbianhouseplant @scroofy-was-here @krakoansam @pearlypairings

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS ✨

Thank you so much for tagging me @starrybouquet! ❤️

what's the origin of your blog title?

I don’t really have a blog title. 🙈 I should probably give that some thought.

otp(s) + shipname(s):

If we mean “OTP: they can only be happy with each other, no one else could ever possibly fulfill either of them,” then I don’t believe in that. But if we mean “OTP: interesting shippy dynamic but other people could also or alternatively make them happy, no gatekeeping here,” then:

Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris, J/P

Number One | Una Chin-Riley/Christopher Pike, Pikeone or Pikeuna

Seven of Nine/Anyone I Find Interesting

favorite color:

Green and purple.

song stuck in your head:

Trustfall, P!nk

weirdest habit/trait:

I go to bed super-duper early.

hobbies:

Writing. Exercise. Socializing.

if you work, what's your profession?

My goodness, I do not want to talk about my job on Tumblr dot com.

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

That’s complicated.

something you're good at:

Organization.

something you hate:

Violence and people who glorify violence.

something you collect:

N/A

something you forget:

I often forget what I’ve bought through online shopping. Then the box arrives and I’m curious as to what’s in it.

what's your love language:

Conversation.

favorite movie/show:

Saving Mr. Banks

favorite food:

I don’t know.

favorite animal:

I don’t know.

what were you like as a child:

Bookish. Social.

favorite subject at school:

English or civics.

least favorite subject:

Math or science.

what's your best character trait?

When I love, I love with my whole heart.

what's your worst character trait?

Hesitancy to reach out or open up.

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

The answer is too complicated to type out.

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Relatives who passed away before I was born and were deeply meaningful to people I love.

No-pressure tagging: @deadheaddaisy, @grissomesque, @regionalpancake, @procrastinatorproject, @emilie786, @pc-corner, @coffee-in-that-nebula, @elephant-in-the-pride-parade, @cnroth, @fiadorable, @lorcaswhisky, @the-lady-general, @cicaklah, @caladeniablue, @enterprise-come-in, @theredheadedcaptain, and anyone else I forgot to tag. 💞

[mabaris]

ok i’m listening to yesterday’s vows and vengeance episode and i had to pause immediately because harding swearing by the stone was so unexpected??? the idea that surfacer dwarves still believe in the stone as an actual religion is so interesting because unlike the other religions in thedas that believe they were abandoned by their respective deistic force(s), it is the individual who abandons the stone. the maker left the physical world and the creators were locked away against their will, but the stone is always there until you leave it, by choice or by force.

to have someone born and raised on the surface who still pays some importance to the stone introduces the idea of redemption to the philosophy of the stone. to me, being on the surface and still putting some kind of importance on it implies you left unwillingly right? because if you choose to walk away from it, you don’t care about preserving those ties. i wonder if she’s going to be something of a foil to varric—a child of exiles, born and raised on the surface, but she actually does have a desire to connect to that culture. and maybe that desire to reconnect is related to her weird new powers

[soft-serve-soymilk]

You Have No Name patch update for the week: Erk has Fuchs Dystrophy ✨

[yaminerua]

at this point idk what it is specifically but I don’t think there’s a single neurotypical person living in this house and the state it’s in shows that

if you walked into this place you’d immediately stage an intervention bc clearly none of us are able to get started on what needs fucking done let alone maintain it to an acceptable level jfc

[monsterbroth]

i woke up early today and am way too energised my brain is like spilling in circles but I still have not the right energy to be coherent or focus on actually doing anything with it