#I liked this movie more than I thought I would

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place. 

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser. 

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve. 

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him. 

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there. 

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again. 

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science. 

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head. 

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened. 

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.” 

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream. 

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless. 

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling. 

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.” 

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself. 

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone. 

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.” 

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious. 

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.” 

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right. 

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject. 

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off. 

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride. 

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say. 

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs. 

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself. 

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.” 

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole. 

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.” 

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. 

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.” 

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs. 

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.” 

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.” 

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head. 

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm. 

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset. 

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this. 

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.” 

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly. 

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile. 

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time. 

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.” 

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.” 

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

[elikajinnie]

P: Situationship!Heeseung X Fem!Reader (recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Situationship, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Tension, Flirting, Mature Content, Pursuing, Possessive & Needy Behaviour, Jealousy if you squint, Alcohol Consumption, Mentioned Drug Use.

Wordcount: 22k

Synopsis: For years, Lee Heeseung had been in your life—never close enough to be a friend but too familiar to be a stranger. You told yourself you weren’t interested, that he didn’t matter to you. But Heeseung had other plans cause he made it his mission to claim your attention—and eventually your heart. But love is never easy.

a/n: was watching the iconic Kuch Kuch Hota Hai when this idea came! (dont ask how) i also wanted to try something new with the title. (disclaimer! some of the scenes are written from experience)

now playing: truth or dare by tyla | friends by chase atlantic | awkward by sza | bloodline by ariana grande | twenty nights by nobu woods | gi faen by ballinciaga

School hierarchy never interested you—peaking in high school, the whole "king of the cafeteria" nonsense. Why would it? None of that mattered after graduation. You always thought it was a waste of time, all those petty dramas and desperate attempts to be remembered as something more than ordinary.

And yet, somehow, you were known, not because you clamored for attention or played into the social games everyone else seemed obsessed with, but because...well, you were you. Quiet, maybe. Not invisible, though. People knew your name, knew your face, even if you couldn’t recall theirs at times. Maybe it was the way you never fumbled over your words when teachers called on you or the way your presence seemed calm. You didn’t try to stand out, but you were noticed, even if you never asked for it.

Made you wonder what made you noticed.

And that question was solved pretty quickly, to be honest. All because you knew Heeseung since you were young.

And Heeseung? Heeseung was everything you’d expect from someone at the top of the high school food chain. Popular, effortlessly so. Basketball captain, the school’s golden boy, practically born to be the main character in someone’s coming-of-age movie. But beyond all that, he was still totally derpy—the same kid who used to trip over his own feet at recess, the one who cried when you beat him in hide-and-seek because he hid in the most obvious spot.

He hadn’t changed much, really. Sure, he had a little more swagger now, a charm that made people laugh at his terrible jokes instead of groan, but to you, he was just Heeseung.

You’d laugh every time someone brought him up to you, trying to see if you’d spill some secret about what he was like outside of the spotlight. “You’re friends with Heeseung, right?” they’d say, voices dipping into curiosity or jealousy. And you’d shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. Because to you, it wasn’t.

But somehow, knowing him—having that tether to someone like him—had put you on the radar, too. Even if you weren’t part of his crowd, even if you didn’t sit with him at lunch or go to the parties he got dragged to, people noticed you because he noticed you.

And that was the funny thing, wasn’t it? You never cared about being seen, but Heeseung never stopped looking for you in a room.

You were never really interested in initiating anything with him, even if he was very much 100% interested in initiating something with you.

He’d find you in the hallways, leaning casually against the wall, as if it was second nature for him to cage you in, corner you with a smile that made everything around you feel like it had slowed down. He’d ask you about your day, always interested in the little details you never thought anyone would care about. “Are you busy some day?” he’d ask, eyes sparkling, as if he was hinting at something more—something he probably expected you to say yes to.

Other times, he’d slide into the seat next to you in class, talking about his upcoming game like it was an invitation in itself. “You should come watch,” he'd say with that grin, the one that could melt anyone into agreeing. "I’ll even give you my jersey after I win.”

And then there were the parties—he’d invite you to those too, always the center of attention but always making sure you knew you were welcome. Sometimes he’d just come right up to you, all charm and boldness, flirting with you shamelessly, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His presence was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but get those butterflies in your stomach, no matter how much you wanted to stay calm.

And yet, despite all of it—the smiles, the promises, the hints of something more—you rejected his advances.

Every. Single. One.

You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in it. You wouldn’t. Even if every part of you, every part of your mind and heart, screamed to take a chance, to let yourself fall into whatever Heeseung was offering, you pushed him away.

Mostly because you knew what type of person he was now. You saw how he was with other women in school, how effortlessly he had them wrapped around his finger, how they would come to him at the snap of his finger, eyes wide and eager for whatever he had to offer. They were drawn to him like moths to a flame, following him like he was the sun and they were planets orbiting around him. And, honestly, it was hard not to see the way his charm worked, how his attention seemed to shift from one girl to the next as if it was all just a game.

A game that you weren’t interested in playing.

You weren’t just going to be another face in the crowd, another person who would fall for his flirtations, get swept up in the thrill of his attention only to be tossed aside when someone else caught his eye. You were different. You had to be.

Heeseung was the type who could have anyone, but you weren’t just anyone. You were stronger than that, smarter than that. You didn’t need to be one of his many admirers to feel valued.

So, you kept saying no, keeping a distance, watching the way he’d grin like it was no big deal, then go off to let his attention drift somewhere else. And deep down, you knew you weren’t immune to it. Maybe you never would be. But the answer stayed the same.

That didn’t mean Heeseung didn’t stop going after you.

If anything, it seemed like the more you pulled away, the harder he tried. You'd find him lingering around your classes, catching you in the hallways, or showing up in places where you didn’t expect him to be. It was like a game to him, though you weren't sure if he knew it was to you. Maybe he thought he could win you over if he tried hard enough, if he kept being persistent, kept flashing that grin and throwing out just enough charm to keep you on the edge of saying yes.

He’d joke with you, pretending to be playful, leaning in with a wink like you were both in on some shared secret no one else understood. But you knew better. You could see through the act, see the way his eyes would light up when he thought he was getting close. It was almost like a challenge to him now, something he couldn’t let go of.

But you kept saying no.

And he kept coming back for more.

You would think that someone like him would give up after rejection, after rejection. But nooooo.

If anything, Heeseung only seemed more determined with each "no" you threw at him. You’d catch him looking at you with amusement, as if he were trying to figure you out, like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, plotting his next move. It wasn’t just persistence—it was obsession in its own strange way.

He’d show up at your locker with an extra wide grin, as if all the past rejections were just another small obstacle, one he was determined to overcome. He’d ask about your plans for the weekend, your favorite movie, your favorite ice cream flavor—all these little things that seemed innocent enough but were clearly his way of getting closer to you, of worming his way in until you couldn’t say no anymore. And each time, you’d refuse, hold firm.

It was like a tug-of-war, except you were the one refusing to be pulled.

And yet, he never stopped to one point that there was a part of you that wondered, almost begrudgingly, if anyone had ever resisted him like this before. You could almost hear the chuckles of his friends in the background, no doubt betting on how long it would take before you gave in.

It did kind of surprise you when, one day, you were walking down the hallway, busy trying to find your gum in your bag, when you accidentally overheard a girl confessing to Heeseung. You stopped, pausing mid-step as you heard her voice, trembling with nerves, pouring out her feelings to him.

You looked down the hallway you were passing, and there he was, standing with his back to you, his attention fully on the girl in front of him. She was shy, her words stumbling over each other, her face flushed as she nervously admitted what everyone probably already knew. She liked him. She wanted him.

But what he did next was something you did not expect at all.

He rejected her.

The words hit you before you could even process them. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But there’s someone else I’m interested in. Someone I want." He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even seem to waver. He was polite, but his words were clear and final.

The girl stood frozen for a moment, looking down, clearly embarrassed. You could see the brief flicker of pain on her face, but she nodded and walked away quickly, her head down.

You felt an unexpected sting in your chest, a strange mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You couldn’t decide if it was relief or disappointment or... something else.

And as Heeseung turned around, casually adjusting his jacket, you quickly stepped into a side hallway, out of sight, your heart beating a little too fast for comfort. You had never expected to see something like that, especially not from him. Never from him. And it made you wonder, question everything you thought you knew about him.

Because after that moment, it seemed like he rejected girl after girl, all while still pursuing you with that same relentless determination. It was strange. You would never catch him kissing other women anymore, never saw pictures on social media of him with a girl on his lap at parties, never heard whispers of him flirting with anyone else. It was like the world around him had faded, and the only focus, the only person who mattered, was you.

No one else but you.

It made you question everything. Was he really serious about you? Or was this just some strange game he was playing, a challenge to see if he could win you over when everyone else had fallen for his charm? Or was it something more than the surface-level attention he gave everyone else? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized you were the only one he seemed to want.

But the more you thought about it, the more it made you uneasy. Did you trust him? Or were you walking into a trap?

If it was a trap, it was a pretty good one, because something changed between the dynamic of you and Heeseung. You grew more compliant, more willing to give him a little piece of your attention, a little more of your time. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him shift gears. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so certain, now seemed a little more desperate, a little more eager to make you notice him, to make you smile.

He’d go out of his way to do the smallest things just to get a reaction from you—whether it was showing up with your favorite drink, offering to carry your bag when you were weighed down with books, or trying to impress you with his random trivia knowledge that he knew you secretly found endearing. His usual cool composure was slipping, and in its place was a version of him you hadn’t seen since you were young.

And frankly, it was kinda cute.

It was like he was a little boy again, trying so hard to win your approval, doing whatever he could to get you to look his way, to see him the way he wanted you to.

You expected to play a little around with his attention, to enjoy the way he’d chase you, all while ignoring the stares you got from other girls. It wasn’t anything serious, just a game, a harmless little back-and-forth that didn’t have to mean anything. You didn’t expect it to go anywhere—after all, this was Heeseung, the golden boy who had his pick of anyone. He was just... fun to be around, right?

But how were you supposed to know that one measly party—just one event—would change everything?

It wasn’t even a big deal at first. Just a typical Friday night, with music blasting, lights flashing, and everyone packed together in some house that barely fit the crowd. You had told yourself you’d just go for a bit, maybe chat with some friends, and leave before things got too chaotic.

When you arrived, you decided to go get a drink first, something to ease your nerves. You weren’t exactly the type to jump into a party scene, so you figured a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt. You made your way to the kitchen, and scanned the counter for something that would do the trick. You found a bottle of something strong, poured yourself a generous amount, and started nursing it as you made your way through the house, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd.

The music was louder now, almost deafening, and the air smelled like a mix of cheap cologne, sweat, and the faint scent of pizza. The people around you were lost in their own little worlds—laughing, dancing, talking—but you were searching for someone you knew.

Your search didn’t take long before you spotted a group of people you knew—friends from class, a few people you’d hung out with before. You made your way toward them, grateful for the distraction, and they welcomed you with smiles and waves. You could feel the tension in your body start to loosen as you joined in, taking a sip from your drink and laughing along with their jokes.

You stayed with them for a while, catching up on small talk, sipping your drink more leisurely. The conversation shifted from one topic to another—school, upcoming plans, random gossip about who was dating who—until eventually, the music started pulling everyone onto the dance floor. You found yourself swept along with the crowd, the beat of the song pounding through the floor and vibrating up your spine as you moved with the rhythm, the alcohol in your system giving you a little extra confidence.

It was fun, for a while. You lost yourself in the music, and you could feel the tension slip away with each step you took, each beat you moved to, until everything felt… easy.

Then, suddenly, you felt strong arms around your waist, pulling you close, a warmth pressing against your back. It took a split second for the reality to sink in, but you already knew who it was based on the familiar scent of cologne that filled your senses. You didn’t have to look to be sure, but you turned your head anyway, and as expected, there he was.

Heeseung.

He was right behind you, holding you effortlessly, his grip strong yet gentle as he matched the rhythm of the music with you. His chest pressed against your back, making your breath catch for a moment.

You could feel his chin rest lightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and despite every part of you telling yourself to pull away, to keep the distance you’d worked so hard to maintain, something inside you didn’t want to.

For a brief moment, you forgot to question it all. You forgot the reasons you kept pushing him away, the doubts you had about what he truly wanted.

And when he leaned close, his voice low and steady, you felt your resolve begin to crumble as his lips just brushed your ear. "You look so good," he murmured, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Dancing like that, looking so tempting."

The words were playful, but there was something in the tone that made it clear he wasn’t just joking. You could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck.

For a moment, you felt dizzy—not just from the alcohol, but from his proximity, the way he had you caught in his orbit, unwilling to let go.

"You’re driving me crazy," he whispered, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly as if to remind you of how close he was. The teasing had a bite now and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was testing you, seeing how far he could push.

And God did he push.

Heeseung’s fingers brushed lightly against your waist, sending a ripple of heat through you. "You know," he said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper, "you’re not making it easy for me to behave tonight."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his every move, every word. But it was useless—he was too close, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t think straight.

When you finally found your voice, it came out quieter than you intended. "Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink, Heeseung," you said, hoping to inject some distance, even though your own voice betrayed how unsteady you felt.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. "Maybe," he admitted, and you could hear the smirk in his tone. "But don’t act like you’re not enjoying this."

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was locked on you, dark and intense.

"I’m not—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"You’re not what?" he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, daring you to finish your sentence.

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your heart raced, how you couldn’t seem to pull away, even though every logical part of your brain screamed at you to step back. But the warmth of his arms and the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room—it was all too much.

For once, you let yourself linger, not pulling away from his hold, not giving him the usual pushback. He noticed immediately, his smirk growing as if he had won some unspoken game between you two.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing but soft. His fingers traced small circles against your hip, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I’m just too tired to deal with your nonsense.”

“Oh, nonsense, huh?” he said with a mock-wounded expression, leaning closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your skin. “Careful, or you might hurt my feelings.”

“I think you’ll survive,” you shot back, tilting your head to glance at him. But the way his gaze locked onto yours made your breath hitch.

He laughed, the sound low and warm, as he kept still. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, the words brushing against your ear. “Admit it.”

You didn’t respond right away, instead letting the music carry you both. There was something about this that felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t pushing too hard, wasn’t making this feel like a game. Or maybe it was just the way you let yourself relax for once, let yourself enjoy his attention without overthinking it.

“And if I am?” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended, but steady enough to hold his gaze.

Heeseung’s grin widened, his confidence shining through. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep doing whatever I’m doing,” he said, his voice full of promise.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t act so tough,” he teased, “I know I’m getting to you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back just enough to put some space between you, but Heeseung wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He followed, closing the gap again, his movements unhurried. “Running away already?” he said, his tone mockingly hurt.

“I’m not running,” you shot back, crossing your arms in front of you, though the small smile threatening to form on your lips betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not convinced. He reached out, gently tugging at one of your hands, his pouty expression exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, baby. I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

You let out a laugh despite yourself, shaking your head again. “I’m not your baby , you know that right?”

“But here you are,” he replied smoothly, the grin returning to his lips. “Still talking to me, still letting me hold you like I belong to you. Makes me think you don’t hate this as much as you pretend.”

You wanted to argue, to push him away again, but before you could, Heeseung pulled you closer once more. “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly, “if you really want me to stop, I will.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t say it either. And he noticed.

Instead of gloating, though, his grin softened into an almost shy smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his hand squeezing yours gently before letting it go, as if to remind you that you were the one in control, even if it didn’t feel like it right now.

“Don’t think this means I’m giving in,” you said, trying to regain some ground, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to sound convincing.

“Sure, sure,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But I’ll take it as a win anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at him, a playful smirk curling on your lips. Leaning in just enough so only he could hear, you whispered, your voice teasing, “Maybe you should work a little harder if you want to win me over pretty boy.”

Before he could respond, you pulled back and walked off toward the kitchen, swaying your hips just enough to make a point and you felt a surge of satisfaction when you glanced over your shoulder.

Heeseung stood frozen in place, his expression both shocked and in disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide as he processed your words and the sudden shift. For once, it seemed like you had left him speechless—a rarity that made your grin widen.

You turned back around, hiding your amusement as you reached the kitchen and poured yourself another drink.

A few seconds passed, and you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his gaze burning into your back. Heeseung wasn’t one to give up easily, and you knew you’d just ignited a fire in him. It wasn’t a question of if he’d come after you, but when.

You took a sip of your drink, savoring the moment, and braced yourself for whatever Heeseung was planning. You barely had any time to react before you felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His body pressed against your back, his warmth seeping through your clothes as his arms caged you in on either side of the counter. His hands gripped the edge, locking you in place.

A low, frustrated groan escaped his lips, brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re really going to do me like that?” he murmured, his voice laced with mock pain.

You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. “Do you like what?” you asked innocently, swirling your drink in your hand as if you weren’t trapped.

Heeseung chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your stomach flip. “Walking away like that,” he said, leaning in closer until his lips almost brushed the curve of your jaw. “Whispering things you know are going to drive me crazy, and then just leaving me standing there like an idiot.”

You giggled as you leaned back slightly, your head resting against his shoulder. “You looked cute like that,” you teased, your tone dripping with playful defiance. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

“Cute?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave as his grip on the counter tightened. “I’ll show you cute.”

Before you could respond, Heeseung’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his tone softer now, though still playful. “But it’s fine. I like trouble.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, your shoulders shaking slightly as you set your drink down on the counter. “You’re so dramatic, Heeseung,” you said, turning your head just enough to meet his gaze.

Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, the grin on his face softening into something more tempting. “Dramatic, huh?” he murmured, “maybe. But you can’t tell me you don’t like it.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. “I think you like the attention,” he continued, his tone smug as his lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “You wouldn’t keep me guessing if you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure despite the rapid thudding of your heart. “Guessing? Please,” you scoffed, tilting your chin up slightly, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who keeps showing up, Heeseung. Not me.”

“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you haven’t walked away yet. If you really weren’t interested, you wouldn’t still be here. With me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I’m just enjoying watching you make a fool of yourself.”

“Is that right?” he said, his voice dipping, playful but challenging. He leaned in even closer, so close that his lips were barely a breath away from yours. “Careful, baby, or you might end up falling for me instead.”

His confidence was maddening, but it was that same confidence that made your pulse race.

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Falling for you?” you repeated, your voice steady even as your heart betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself, Heeseung.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as his hand left the counter to lightly graze your hip, his fingers lingering just enough to make you aware of every single nerve in your body. “Oh, I’m not flattering myself,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. “I’m just calling it how I see it.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’ve got some nerve,” you said, shaking your head as you turned away from him.

His eyes following your every move as you picked up your drink again. “And you’ve got some walls,” he shot back.

You paused, glancing back at him as you took a sip of your drink. “Maybe they’re there for a reason,” you replied, your tone light but pointed.

Heeseung leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. “Yeah, but the thing about walls?” he said, tilting his head with a grin. “They’re meant to be climbed.”

You side-eyed him, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you raised your glass to take another sip. “Try all you want mountain climber.”

Before he could come up with a response, you smoothly stepped away, moving around the kitchen counter to put some distance between you. His brows furrowed slightly in surprise, the sudden shift catching him off guard.

“Hey, wait a second,” he called after you, quickly sliding around the counter in an attempt to follow. The way he moved—quick but a little clumsy, as if he hadn’t expected you to slip away so easily—made you chuckle to yourself.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” you said over your shoulder, your tone full of challenge as you leaned casually against the far end of the counter, nursing your drink.

Heeseung stopped on the other side, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he tilted his head. “Oh, so now we’re playing games?” he asked, clearly in disbelief.

“You started it,” you shot back, taking another sip and meeting his gaze head-on.

His eyes narrowed slightly as if accepting the challenge. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t be mad when I win.”

“Win?” you repeated, raising a brow at him. “Pretty confident for someone who just got left behind.”

That earned a laugh from him, and in one swift motion, he stepped around the counter, closing the gap between you. “Left behind?” he echoed, his tone playful as he leaned down slightly, his face closer to yours. “Nah. I’m right where I need to be.”

Your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you quickly masked it with another sip of your drink, refusing to let him see how much his persistence was getting to you.

Heeseung’s smirk widened when you began moving around the counter again, and without missing a beat, he mirrored your steps, chasing after you. “Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?” he teased, his tone light as his eyes tracked your every move.

“You’ll have to be faster than that,” you shot back, a playful laugh escaping your lips as you darted around the other side.

His hands hovered over the counter, ready to cut you off, but you were quicker, slipping just out of reach. The look of mock frustration on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t help but grin at your small victory.

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up for a moment as if calling a truce. But you weren’t buying it—not for a second.

When he lunged, you were ready, spinning on your heel and darting out of the kitchen entirely. “Nice try!” you called over your shoulder, weaving your way back toward the dance floor, the thumping bass and flashing lights swallowing you up.

You could hear him groan behind you, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “You’re really gonna make me work for this, huh?”

You didn’t answer, slipping into the crowd and letting the press of people conceal you. It was easy to lose him in the chaos, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of him standing near the edge of the dance floor, scanning the crowd with a furrowed brow.

For a moment, you just watched him. The way he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to spot you, made your chest tighten unexpectedly. But you shook the feeling off quickly, turning back to the music and letting yourself have fun.

The crowd seemed to shift and swirl, pulling you deeper into the dance floor. For a moment, you felt untouchable—lost in the freedom of the moment.

But that feeling didn’t last long. You could still feel him, even if you couldn’t see him. And then, just when you thought you’d successfully slipped away, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and right near your ear.

“Thought you could run away from me?”

You turned your head sharply, only to find Heeseung standing there, a sly grin on his face. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks, probably from weaving through the crowd to find you.

“How’d you—” you started, but he interrupted with a chuckle.

“You really think I’d give up that easily?” he asked, his tone almost incredulous. “I told you, I’m right where I need to be.”

You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your lips tugged upward. “Maybe you’re just a little too determined,” you said, stepping back slightly, but he followed your movement effortlessly.

“Or maybe you like being chased,” he countered, his voice smooth as he matched your pace.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he caught your hand, gently spinning you back toward him, his movements seamless with the music. It was so smooth, so unexpected, that you didn’t even think to pull away. “Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low as his eyes locked onto yours.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “I let you catch me,” you replied.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he answered as he pulled you a little closer.

The space between you vanished, and for a moment, you were acutely aware of everything—his hand on your waist, his body, his gaze. It was dizzying, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stayed there, caught in the moment, wondering how on earth he always managed to get under your skin like this.

Heeseung began to sway with you to the music, his hands resting lightly on your waist, guiding your movements with an ease that felt far too natural. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just dancing, just a moment. And yet, you didn’t stop him. You let him lead, let him pull you closer, until his forehead was nearly brushing yours.

But then you noticed something. The way his steps were deliberate, not just moving to the beat but steering you. Slowly, subtly, his touch guided you backward through the crowd.

Your brow furrowed as realization dawned. Heeseung wasn’t just dancing. He had a plan.

“You’re sneaky, you know that?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and saw the wall creeping closer.

Heeseung’s grin turned wicked, a spark of mischief lighting up his face. “Sneaky? Me?” he asked, feigning innocence, though the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist betrayed him. “Yes, you,” you shot back, even as your back brushed against the cool surface of the wall. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Can you blame me? You make it so hard to keep my distance.”

You rolled your eyes, though your pulse betrayed you, hammering in your chest as his gaze locked onto yours.

His gaze never left yours for a second. The world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in just the slightest bit closer, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours, could feel the tension between you, thick and heavy.

He glanced down at your lips, then back up to your eyes, the look in his gaze unreadable. It was almost like he was testing the air between you, measuring whether you’d pull away or lean in. His hands on your waist holding you in place as if he knew you wouldn’t make a move. His breathing had picked up now, shallow and just a little shaky, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was just as affected by this as you were.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, though you knew your voice was too soft to carry any real force. The words felt weak even as they left your lips, because you knew you weren’t really trying to push him away.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and low, as if savoring the moment. “Like what?” he asked.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t—because the answer was already in the way your heart was pounding, the way your breath hitched every time he got a little closer.

And then, without warning, he leaned in just a fraction more, his lips hovering so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating from them, but he didn’t make the move. He was waiting. Testing.

You both seemed to be holding your breath.

Just as you were about to say something, the world shifted unexpectedly. A figure stumbled into Heeseung from behind, knocking into him, and before either of you could react, the person’s drink splashed all over you. You gasped as the cold liquid drenched your outfit, your heart sinking as you saw the mess, the dark stain had spread across the fabric, leaving a damp, sticky trail. “Are you kidding me?” you groaned, trying to wipe it off, but it only made it worse.

Heeseung, who had been caught off guard by the collision, quickly turned around. His brows furrowed with frustration, but his gaze softened when he saw the mess on your clothes. Without missing a beat, he pushed the person who had bumped into him away with a quick but firm shove. “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped. The drunk person mumbled an apology, clearly embarrassed, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. His attention was on you now.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing against your arm as he looked you over.

You just sighed, wiping your shirt, but it was clear you weren’t getting anywhere. “This is great,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else, “I didn’t even want to be here tonight, and now this…”

Heeseung didn’t let you dwell on it for long. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand in a way that was surprisingly gentle for all the tension you’d felt earlier. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”

You didn’t argue, allowing him to guide you through the crowd, his hand on yours was warm, and even though you were frustrated, there was something comforting in the way he took charge.

When you reached the bathroom, he opened the door for you, ushering you inside with a soft “After you,” before making sure the door was securely closed behind you. The bathroom was quieter, and the air felt colder, but it was a welcome change from the chaos outside.

“Sit down, I’ll grab you some paper towels,” he said, motioning to the counter as he quickly moved toward the sink.

You sat down on the edge, trying to assess the damage, but the sticky feeling of the drink on your skin made it hard to focus. Heeseung was quick, his movements efficient as he grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the faucet.

“You’re really going to make me clean up after you now?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though there was still a hint of irritation in your voice.

Heeseung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you the damp towels. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trying to help.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the gentle way he was treating the situation. You took the damp towels from his hands, still a little flustered by how close he was standing, how his gaze was focused on you with such intent.

“I didn’t ask for help,” you muttered, not in an angry way but more out of habit, the natural instinct to push away when things got too close, too personal.

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I know. But that’s never stopped me before, has it?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. You couldn’t find the right response. Instead, you just looked at him, your heart doing that erratic thing it always did when he was this close.

Heeseung seemed to notice your hesitation, his smile softening. “You don’t have to push me away every time, you know,” he said gently, his voice almost too sincere.

You blinked, caught off guard. But before you could respond, he stepped back, giving you space, though his eyes never left yours. “I’ll wait outside,” he said quietly, his voice shifting back to its usual tone.“Take your time.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

Heeseung gave you one last lingering look before stepping out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. As soon as he was gone, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still racing in your chest. You quickly went to work cleaning yourself up, though the mess on your clothes was much harder to fix.

Your thoughts were spinning. There was something about the way Heeseung was acting tonight, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was definitely something there, and it made your stomach twist in ways.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have this effect on you? You couldn’t figure it out, but the longer you stood there in the bathroom, the more confused you felt.

After a few more minutes, you gave up trying to fix the mess entirely. It was too late for that. Instead, you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as you entered the hallway, you spotted Heeseung standing by the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes immediately locking onto yours. “Well?” he asked, cocking his head slightly as he gave you a once-over. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, much better,” you replied, trying to act nonchalant, but you could feel your heartbeat quicken again under his scrutiny.

He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good. You look… good.” There was a hesitation before the words left his mouth, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase them.

You caught it, and for the first time tonight, you didn’t immediately push back. Instead, you simply looked at him, unsure of what was happening.

Wait.

You suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over you. The way he looked at you, the way he was standing there waiting for you, felt familiar, like it was something you had experienced before.

Your mind wandered back to a memory from when you were younger, one that you hadn’t thought about in ages. You were just a child, maybe eight or nine, playing in the park with Heeseung not too far away. You’d been running around, laughing with the other kids when some clumsy little boy—one of your classmates—spilled his drink all over you. You’d been so upset, the sticky liquid ruining your favorite shirt, and you could feel tears threatening to spill.

But then, out of nowhere, there was Heeseung. He hadn’t hesitated for a second, not like some of the other kids who were too busy laughing or ignoring you. He’d been sitting nearby, playing with a figurine in the grass, but the moment he saw you, he dropped his toys without a second thought. Without saying a word, he had stood up, walked over to you, and gently grabbed your hand.

“Don’t worry,” he’d said with that soft, comforting tone only he had, “I’ll help you clean up.”

He had led you straight to the bathroom of the park’s little concession stand, where he carefully grabbed paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, his face set in a look of determination. You remembered feeling embarrassed, but somehow his presence made everything feel better.

And now, here you were, years later, with him standing in front of you again, doing the same thing—helping you, without hesitation. It made you smile softly to yourself, the memory tugging at your heart in ways you weren’t sure how to explain.

Heeseung, noticing the smile tugging at your lips, raised an eyebrow in playful curiosity. “What’s on your mind?”

You shook your head, trying to hide the faint blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Just… thinking about something,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

He didn’t push, simply giving you a small smile, as though he understood without needing any further explanation.

Before you could think too much about it, Heeseung suddenly moved with a surprising confidence, his hand finding your waist and gently pulling you along with him. The sudden shift startled you for a moment, but the warmth of his hand against your side made your breath hitch slightly.

“You look like you need another drink,” he said, his voice low, but playful, as he guided you through the crowded hallway and toward the kitchen. He left you no time to protest, and you found yourself following him without much resistance. You’d barely processed the familiar feeling of his touch when you were already in the kitchen, the sound of music and chatter fading slightly as you both entered the quieter space. Heeseung let go of your waist once you were in the kitchen, but he still stood close.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to the counter, rifling through the bottles of alcohol, though his gaze never fully left you.

"Something strong this time?" he asked, his tone teasing but with a hint of genuine care, as though he wanted to make sure you were really okay. "Or do you want to take it easy?"

You were still caught off guard by the way he had pulled you along, the way he’d moved without hesitation, without waiting for permission.

"Maybe just something light," you replied, trying to play it cool, even though he was making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Heeseung worked quickly, his movements smooth as he reached for the bottle, his back was turned to you. But you couldn’t stop watching him—how his muscles shifted under the fabric of his shirt, how good he looked.

Heeseung eventually finished the drink and handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours again as you took the glass. For a second, you both stood there, neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was that kind of silence where it felt like something was about to happen, but neither of you were sure what.

“So, what now?” you asked, trying to break the silence, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you spoke.

Heeseung took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now," he said, "we get back to enjoying the night."

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was. "Right," you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, but you quickly recovered, giving him a small smile. "Let’s see if I can actually make it through the night without getting drenched in anything else."

Heeseung’s lips curled into a grin, and he chuckled softly. "I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again," he said, his tone playful but with an undertone of sincerity. He reached out and gently took your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

You let him lead you back into the party, the music louder now, the crowd thicker. Heeseung didn’t let go of your hand, and you found yourself walking alongside him through the house, feeling uncertain.

✰ ✰ ✰

Somewhere during the night, you had lost sight of Heeseung. He had been dragged away by his friends, caught up in the crowd, and never returned after that. At first, it felt like a strange absence, the lingering sense of him still there even if he wasn't. But after a while, you pushed it aside, deciding it was fine.

You found yourself moving through the party, chatting with friends, laughing at jokes, and enjoying yourself. And as the night went on, you slipped into the comfort of familiar faces, people you could talk to normally. You were glad for the chance to just have fun, to forget for a moment the heat that always seemed to follow whenever Heeseung was around. You were fine without him, right?

You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The noise and chaos inside had started to make you feel lightheaded, and the stuffy heat of the house wasn’t helping. A little solitude would do you good, you thought.

The cool air hit your skin as you stepped out into the backyard, a quiet escape from the party. You leaned against the outer wall, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, and for a moment, you let the silence settle around you. It was peaceful, the kind of calm you needed after the madness inside. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the chill of the night on your skin, and took a deep breath.

What you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the shadows, standing just far enough away not to be seen. The shape of a figure, leaning against the corner of the house, observing you with quiet intensity.

The moment stretched on, the backyard still and quiet, until you felt a presence shift behind you. A movement you couldn’t quite place, and before you could turn around to see who it was, you felt the brush of someone’s body so close to yours that it made you freeze.

You slowly turned your head, your breath catching in your throat, and found yourself face to face with Heeseung. His lips were mere inches from your ear as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. But something was off.

His usually sharp gaze was a little hazy, his eyes unfocused as he smiled at you—though it didn’t reach the intensity of his usual teasing grin. He looked almost… detached. Out of it.

And then the smell hit you—a sharp, pungent scent of weed mixed with the alcohol. It hit you like a wave, and you realized just how much he'd been indulging tonight.

"Heeseung?" you murmured, taking a step back instinctively, your heart picking up speed as you watched him sway slightly, his breath coming out slower than usual.

He seemed to snap out of his daze for a moment, his eyes clearing slightly as he blinked at you. "Hmm?" His voice was low, almost lazy, and there was a softness to it that you weren’t used to hearing.

You studied him for a moment, his breath still tinged with the unmistakable haze of the night’s indulgence. He wasn't himself—at least not the playful Heeseung you knew. "Are you okay?" you asked cautiously, unsure how to navigate this new version of him standing so close.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before a slow, almost dreamy smile curled up on his lips. "Yeah, just needed a break too. The noise gets... loud. You know how it is."

He swayed again, his hand coming up to rest on the wall near you, his face inches from yours.

You stood still, your heart racing as you took in the unexpected sight of him like this. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Maybe you should head back inside.”

He chuckled softly, but it lacked its usual spark. Instead, it was drawn out and almost tired. “Nah,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m fine... just needed a minute.” His fingers brushed your arm lightly as if trying to keep himself steady.

He didn’t back away, though, and neither did you.

You were unsure what to say next, unsure of your next move. "You’re making this... hard," you finally whispered, uncertain whether you were talking about the situation or him.

Heeseung smiled, but this time it was slow, almost seductive, like he was savoring the moment. “Maybe I like it that way,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. He leaned just a little closer, his breath mingling with yours.

Despite everything, despite all the confusion, you couldn’t stop the way your heart pounded. Heeseung had always been a game you couldn’t quite figure out, but right now, you were starting to wonder if maybe it was a game you didn’t want to win.

As he leaned in further, you had to make a decision: pull away, or let yourself fall into whatever it was that had been brewing between the two of you.

Before you could even make a decision, he made the decision for you. His lips parted, and he murmured a low, breathy compliment against your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You look so beautiful baby,” he said, and there was a sincerity in his tone that cut through the haze. But before you could respond, his hand shot up to grip the side of your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin, holding you in place. The other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. Hungry. His lips crashing against yours as if you were the air he needed to breathe, like this moment was the only thing that mattered.

You gasped into the kiss, caught off guard by the intensity of it. Heeseung’s mouth was possessive, eager, like he couldn’t get enough of you. He kissed you with a desperation that sent a rush of heat straight to your body, his hands pulling you closer, the pressure of his grip firm. It felt like everything had exploded in that moment, every feeling you’d been pushing away suddenly pouring out in a single, stolen kiss.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and even though every part of you knew this wasn’t how you expected things to go, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. The way he kissed you—like you were the last thing he’d ever touch—was overwhelming, and for the first time, you let yourself surrender to it.

His lips were intoxicating, and as he pulled you closer, you could feel the intensity in every movement, every press of his body against yours. The kiss deepened, more frantic now, as if neither of you could get enough. The feeling of him—so desperate, so needy—was something you never expected from Heeseung, and yet it was exactly what you found yourself craving.

You tried to stay grounded, to remind yourself of who he was, of all the walls you’d carefully built between you, but with each second, they seemed to crumble. His hands moved to your back, pulling you in as his kiss grew more fevered, his breathing erratic as he let out soft groans against your lips.

You couldn’t help but respond, your own hands rising to clutch at his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as if to keep him anchored to you, like the very act of touching him would stop this moment from slipping away. Heeseung’s body was solid against yours, and despite the confusion that still buzzed in the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted this—wanted him.

His breath hitched as you pulled him even closer, you could feel the way his body seemed to tremble slightly as he held you in his arms, groaning lowly, the sound vibrating against your lips as he used one arm to brace himself against the wall, the other pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. His lips were desperate, claiming, his breathing heavy as it mixed with yours.

Your hands moved without thought, one gripping the back of his shirt, the other winding into his hair, tugging him even closer. He let out another low groan, the sound so needy it sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung’s hand at your waist tightened, as if he was trying to merge your bodies into one.

Every part of you seemed to melt under his touch, all that mattered in that moment was the way he felt against you, the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands seemed to be exploring every inch of your body. His lips moved with desperation, and each breathless kiss made it harder to remember why you had held back for so long.

But then, just as the kiss deepened again, your mind caught up with you. You could feel the weight of it—the gravity of what was happening. The familiar warning signs, the confusion, the uncertainty, all came rushing back to the surface.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands gripping his hair tightly, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Heeseung, sensing the shift, finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting softly.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice raspy and gentle, as if checking to see if you were still with him in that moment.

You pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to gather your thoughts, but your mind was still clouded by the rush of the moment. "We... we shouldn't be doing this," you murmured, your voice shaky, feeling the weight of the situation. "You're drunk, Heeseung. This isn't you."

Heeseung blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy with that lazy, almost dazed look as he played with the strands of your hair, his fingers brushing gently against your scalp. He tilted his head slightly, giving you that smile—the one that always made your heart flutter, even in the most confusing of times.

He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and he spoke softly, his voice sincere "Even if I wasn't drunk," he said, his lips curling into a slow smile, "I’d still do this." His eyes locked onto yours, the haze in them making his gaze feel even more intense. "Because you're you. A pretty girl I've wanted for years."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the heat of his words curling around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. His hand on your hair moved down to gently cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "This... this is unforgettable. And I’d do it over and over again, no matter what state I’m in."

You were speechless for a moment, but you knew he was being honest, even if his current state made it hard to fully trust his intentions.

"But...," you started, still unsure, trying to hold onto your reason, "this isn't the right time, Heeseung. We both know that."

Heeseung’s lazy smile didn’t falter, though there was a longing in his eyes somthing you hadn't seen before. He slowly moved his thumb down, brushing lightly over your lips before leaning in again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Maybe not the right time," he said, his lips nearly brushing against yours once more. "But you’ve always been worth the wait."

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his hand still cradling your face as if silently asking for permission. Then, he leaned in, placing a soft, tentative peck on your lips. It was gentle and when you didn’t pull away, he did it again, this time lingering a little longer. Each kiss felt like a question, and with every unspoken answer, his confidence grew.

The next kiss wasn’t as restrained. It was deeper, needier, as though the small taste he’d gotten wasn’t enough. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, quickly unraveling into something messier. His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, while his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The kisses turned sloppy, his control slipping with every passing second. His breath came heavier, mingling with yours as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees feel weak.

You couldn’t help but respond, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung broke away just briefly, as he gasped for air, his lips swollen and glistening. “You don’t know,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with desperation. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Before you could respond, he captured your lips again, his kisses feverish, like he was making up for all the time he’d spent waiting. His body pressed you more firmly against the wall, as he completely lost himself in the moment, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece.

You tried to catch your breath, your head spinning from it all, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance to think. His lips trailed down from yours, brushing along your jaw and down to your neck, where he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent a shiver through your entire body. “Heeseung,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky. You weren’t sure what you were trying to say—stop or don’t stop.

“Say my name again,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and raspy. He placed another kiss just below your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “I love the way it sounds coming from you.”

You didn’t answer because the way he was looking at you left you speechless. His lips were swollen from the kisses, his hair slightly messy, and there was something in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. “Heeseung,” you whispered again, softer this time, your hand reaching up to touch his face. The moment your fingers brushed his cheek, he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. When they opened again, there was a softness there that made your heart ache.

Heeseung’s lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss so deep, so consuming, that it left you breathless. You could feel the way his fingers trembled slightly as they slid up your sides. One hand settled on the small of your back, keeping you firmly pressed against him, while the other moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough.

He groaned low in his throat, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine as his lips parted, inviting you to deepen the kiss. The way his tongue brushed against yours was dizzying, leaving your knees weak and your mind spinning. You responded instinctively, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.

Heeseung’s breathing was heavy, uneven, as if he couldn’t catch his breath but didn’t want to stop. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter. It felt like he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you fit perfectly against him.

Heeseung’s lips suddenly left yours, trailing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, his words slurred slightly but full of emotion. “How long I’ve wanted this… wanted you. God, you’re all I ever think about.” His lips grazed your collarbone, grounding you as he leaned his full weight into you, effectively caging you against the wall.

His rambling continued, each word pouring out like a confession. “I dream about you… about us. It’s always you. No one else even comes close, y’know that? The way you smile, the way you look at me… even when you’re mad at me, I can’t get you out of my head.”

His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your chest as he spoke, his voice husky and raw. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect. And now you’re here, and I don’t want to let go.”

His words were pure need and desperation, and the way he shielded you with his body only amplified the intensity of the moment. “Tell me you feel it too,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me I’m not crazy for wanting you this much.”

You were overwhelmed, caught between his touch and his words. Heeseung wasn’t holding back, and as much as you wanted to respond, the only thing you could manage was a shaky exhale, your hands clutching at his shirt to keep yourself steady.

Your voice wavered as you found the courage to speak, breaking through the haze of emotions swirling around you both. “But what about all the other girls, Heeseung?” you asked, your tone softer than you expected. “All the girls you’ve been with? The ones who’ve followed you around, who’ve—” You hesitated, the words getting caught in your throat.

Heeseung froze for a moment, his lips hovering against the curve of your neck, his breathing uneven. His answer was strained. “No one’s like you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “No one even comes close.”

His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You think any of them matter?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “All those girls… they were never you. Never even close to being you. I don’t care about them. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you.”

His lips found your collarbone again, lingering there as he continued. “I’ve yearned for you—God, for so long. You don’t even know what you do to me.” His hand slid down to your hips, gripping you as if to anchor himself. “Every time I see you, it’s like nothing else exists. No one else exists.”

He pulled back slightly, his dark, half-lidded eyes locking onto yours. “I’ll drop them all—every single one. I don’t need anyone else, never did. I just want you.”

Heeseung, ever the gentleman suddenly took you by the hand and led you back inside, away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. With a gentle yet firm grip, he guided you through the bustling crowd, his eyes never leaving yours, as he led your way towards an unoccupied bedroom. Once inside the bedroom, Heeseung closed the door behind you, locking out the world and creating a private haven for the two of you, as he leaned in and captured your lips in a desperate kiss.

You responded to his kiss with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, while Heeseung's hands roamed freely, caressing your back.

Heeseung only pulled back slightly, his chest heaving with heavy breaths before he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a well-defined torso.

Well this would be a fun night.

It was a fun night... but what ruined it was the fact that Heeseung suddenly seemed to forget who you were. The next few days at school were a complete shift. He avoided you. He didn’t look at you, didn’t talk to you, didn’t even so much as throw a teasing grin your way in the hallways.

No, instead, he went back to his old habits. He laughed and flirted with other girls, his charm as effortless as ever, like nothing had changed. Like you didn’t exist. At. All.

It was maddening.

But the worst part? Watching him smile at those girls with the same ease he once reserved for you, as if you hadn’t been pressed against that wall, that bed, tangled up in his words and his touch. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You didn’t know what happened. You wracked your brain for answers, trying to piece together where it all went wrong. But deep down, you should have known. Of course, you should have known.

Heeseung wasn’t the type to stay tethered. He wasn’t the type to settle. He was the type to chase, to get what he wanted, and then move on. And now that he’d tempted you, now that he’d had a taste of your attention, it seemed he’d gone on to the next woman.

Why would you be any different?

The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You weren’t supposed to care. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let someone like him get to you. But seeing him act as if nothing had happened—as if you were just another moment in his life—stung more than you wanted to admit.

And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night, the way he touched you, the way his words had seemed so genuine. Had it all been a lie? Or had he just changed his mind?

Either way, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered you. If he wanted to act like you didn’t exist, you’d do the same. Or at least, you’d try.

And you did try. You really did. Ignoring Heeseung, pretending he was just another face in the crowd—it seemed like the only way to keep yourself sane. And for a while, it felt like it might work. You told yourself you could move on, that you could forget about the way his touch had felt, the way his voice had sounded when he whispered your name.

Yeah, no. You couldn’t.

Not at all.

You realized that the moment you walked by the bleachers and saw a girl perched comfortably on Heeseung’s lap during basketball practice. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. Your stomach churned.

Nope. Moving on wasn’t happening.

And then in the hallways, you would see him leaning against the wall, his signature grin plastered across his face as he shamelessly flirted with other girls. Their giggles echoed in the corridor, and Heeseung would tilt his head, his eyes sparkling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Yeah, moving on definitely wasn’t in the cards.

Each time you saw him acting like you were meaningless, like the night you’d shared was nothing more than a passing moment, it cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

And yet, despite all of it, despite the ache in your chest and the frustration bubbling under your skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him. What would you even say? That he’d hurt you? That he’d made you believe you were different, only to prove otherwise?

No. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. But pretending it didn’t matter? That was turning out to be harder than you ever imagined.

Okay, yeah, pretending it didn’t matter was much harder than you thought. Because now, standing in the doorway of your room, staring at a very intoxicated Heeseung, all of those feelings you were desperately trying to bury came rushing back.

His hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a million times. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth skin of his collarbones, and his belt dangled loosely from his hands like he’d been too distracted—or too far gone—to put it back on properly. The faint smell of alcohol and nicotine wafted off him, making you wrinkle your nose.

This was not how you’d planned to spend your night. You were supposed to be studying, maybe finishing the next episode of that series you were hooked on. A calm night. But of course, Heeseung had to ruin that.

“Heeseung,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, trying to keep your voice steady, “What are you doing here?”

He blinked at you, his eyes glassy but still managing to hold that familiar spark that made your heart do stupid flips. “I—uh...” He trailed off, his gaze flickering over you like he was trying to figure out what to say.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”

“I know why I’m here,” he slurred, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “I just... I wanted to see you.”

You sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “Heeseung, you’re drunk. And not in your right mind. You should go home before you embarrass yourself even more.”

But instead of leaving, he gave you that boyish grin—the one that always made your resolve waver. “Can’t I stay here? Just for a bit?”

“No,” you replied firmly, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Heeseung’s expression softened, and his voice dropped, almost pleading. “Come on, don’t do this. I... I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

You hated how those words tugged at something deep inside you. Why did he always have to show up and mess with your head?

You found yourself hesitating, your hand still on the door, unable to slam it shut in his face, sighing, your hand gripping the edge of the door as you tried to keep your cool. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung," you said, your voice quieter than you intended. "I have too much going on. I'm stressed, and I really don't have the energy for this."

He didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His voice was low and teasing, with that same lazy confidence he always seemed to have. "If you're stressed, I can help with that," he murmured. "Play with me a little, and I promise, you'll forget all about it."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity. “Heeseung��”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, hazy but still focused on you, sparkled with that familiar glint that always left you second-guessing yourself. “I’m really good at relieving stress. Just give me a chance.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. The sheer gall of him left you momentarily speechless.

Finally, you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the moment. "Heeseung, you're drunk. You should just go home and sleep this off before you say something else ridiculous."

He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Drunk or not, I’m still right,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned a fraction closer. “But if you really don’t want me here…” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway, though he made no actual move to leave.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to summon every ounce of patience you had left. “Heeseung,” you said firmly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. “I need you to take this seriously. Either go home, or...”

“Or?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing, daring you to finish the sentence.

Your frustration bubbled over as you only glared at him, the sight of his disheveled figure only fueling your anger. "No! Do you have any idea how mad I am at you right now?" you snapped, crossing your arms. "You ignored me for days, Heeseung. Days! You acted like I didn’t exist, like nothing happened, and now you just show up at my door like—like this?"

Heeseung blinked, the lazy smirk faltering slightly, but he didn’t say anything. That only made you angrier. "Do you even know how humiliating it’s been? Watching you flirt with other girls, pretending like what we had meant nothing? And now, you think you can just waltz in here, drunk and out of your mind and what—fix everything with a grin and some smooth words? You don’t get to do that, Heeseung. You don’t get to mess with my head and—"

Before you could finish, Heeseung surged forward, his hands grabbing your cheeks as he pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours with a force that took your breath away, silencing your ramble in an instant.

Your mind went blank, your words evaporating as his warmth enveloped you. His kiss was desperate, almost as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other stayed firm on your cheek.

You froze, your anger momentarily eclipsed by the intensity of his actions. But then, your hands instinctively pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss as you stepped back, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung, what the hell?” you whispered, your voice shaking, unsure if it was from lingering anger or the way your heart raced in your chest.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted quietly, his voice hoarse. “You were yelling at me, and I just… I missed you. I couldn’t stay away.”

You stared at him, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to pull him back in. “You don’t get to do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and think it’ll fix everything.”

“I don’t think it fixes anything,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Before you could respond, he took a small step closer, his forehead gently resting against your shoulder. His breath was warm against your neck as he hummed softly, the sound low and almost comforting. He nuzzled against your skin, his movements slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Heeseung,” you said, your voice strained as you placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. But he didn’t budge, his larger frame pressing closer as his lips ghosted over the curve of your neck.

“I missed this,” he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below your ear, his hand curling gently around your waist to hold you steady.

You tried to push again, but it was weak, half-hearted, especially as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Stop it, Heeseung,” you said, but your voice lacked conviction, and he clearly noticed.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and a little smug. “You’re telling me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, “but you’re not really trying, are you?”

Your heart raced, torn between the anger still simmering in your chest and the way his touch was making your knees feel like jelly. “Heeseung, this isn’t fair,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softer now. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry. That I’ve been a complete idiot. That I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But before you could sort through your emotions, he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your neck once more, and you felt yourself faltering.

Heeseung’s movements were subtle at first, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as he guided you further into the house. You didn’t even realize he’d kicked the door closed until you heard the faint click of it shutting.

Your distraction gave him the advantage, and before you could voice even the smallest protest, he was steering you toward the couch. His hands were steady, firm, but not forceful, leaving you confused and torn between stopping him and giving in to the pull he had on you.

“Heeseung—” you started, but the words barely escaped your lips before his mouth was on yours again, silencing you with a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving no room for argument, and when you tried to push back against his chest, your resolve faltered as he moaned softly into the kiss. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and to your dismay, a small whine slipped out in response.

His lips curved against yours as if he could sense your weakening resolve, his hands started guiding you to lay down on the couch. The weight of his body hovered close, not trapping you but leaving you with the realization that Heeseung wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, “if you really want me to, I will.” But the way he looked at you, his dark eyes full of yearning and desperation, made it clear he didn’t want you to say the words.

When you didn’t respond, Heeseung’s lips curled into a slow, almost knowing smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips once more.

This kiss was different—softer at first, unhurried but still filled with that undeniable hunger. His weight shifted slightly, his chest pressing against yours while his hand slid from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, as though he wanted to memorize every detail, every sound you made, and every way you responded to him.

You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into him, Heeseung’s lips left yours only briefly, trailing kisses along your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he murmured, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. “Heeseung… please,” you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled, making it come out weaker than you’d intended.

But he only shook his head softly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “Shh… Don’t.” His voice was low and soothing, almost pleading, as though he couldn’t bear to hear you say anything that might break the moment between you. “Just… stay with me. Don’t push me away right now,” he whispered.

Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, as if he was savoring the moment.

And you couldn’t help but let yourself fall deeper into the kiss.

✰ ✰ ✰

Yeah, you were getting pretty tired now.

After waking up the next morning to an empty bed, Heeseung having dipped sometime before you even stirred, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Disappointed? Sure. Hurt? Maybe. But surprised? Not in the slightest.

The hollow feeling lingered as you dragged yourself to school, telling yourself to just push through the day like nothing had happened. It was easier said than done when the moment you stepped into the halls, you spotted Heeseung leaning casually against his locker, laughing at something one of his friends said, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.

And of course, he acted like last night didn’t happen. Not a glance in your direction, not a nod of acknowledgment—nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist, as if you hadn’t shared anything at all.

You bit down the frustration bubbling in your chest, refusing to let it show. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let him get to you, that you’d play it cool, but damn, it was harder than you thought. Watching him joke around, watching him flirt effortlessly with anyone but you—it stung more than you wanted to admit.

You sighed, gripping the straps of your bag a little tighter as you walked past him, pretending you didn’t notice him either.

It got to the point where your friends couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“What’s going on with you and Heeseung?” one of them asked, their tone laced with curiosity and concern. “He was all over you, and now he’s... not. Did something happen?”

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything, but their expectant gazes made it clear they weren’t letting it go. So, with a deep breath, you told them everything.

Their reactions were immediate.

“He did what?” one of your friends exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Are you serious? He was with you and then went back to ignoring you? Twice?!” another chimed in, her voice rising in anger.

They were shocked at first, then angry—angrier than you were, which was both comforting and a little overwhelming.

“You need to stop answering his calls,” one of them said firmly, leaning closer. “He’s just using you as a backup plan when he’s drunk and lonely.”

Another nodded, her expression equally resolute. “Don’t let him in, no matter how much he begs. If you let him in, you’re just setting yourself up to kick him out later. And trust me, that’s worse.”

“Exactly,” a third added, crossing her arms. “And don’t even think about being his friend. Friends don’t wake up in each other’s beds after nights like that.”

The last comment stung more than you cared to admit, but they weren’t done.

“If you’re under him, you’re never getting over him,” another said bluntly, her words hitting harder than you’d expected. “And you deserve better than this game he’s playing with you.”

You sat there, their words circling in your head like a storm. Deep down, you knew they were right. You knew you couldn’t keep letting Heeseung in only to get hurt every time he left. But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.

One of your friends sighed, shaking her head. “You know what this sounds like, right? A situationship. That’s what this is turning into.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“That’s exactly what it is,” another chimed in, crossing her arms. “He keeps you close enough to make you think you matter, but far enough to avoid any real accountability. Classic situationship behavior.”

You groaned, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t even know if it’s that deep. He probably doesn’t think about me at all.”

“Well…” one of them started, glancing over your shoulder, her expression shifting into amusement and curiosity.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

She hesitated for a moment before blurting it out. “Heeseung’s staring.”

Your head snapped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. And sure enough, there he was, standing at the edge of the basketball court, holding a ball loosely in one hand. He wasn’t laughing with his teammates or focused on the game. No, his eyes were locked directly on your group—or more specifically, on you.

Your friends followed your gaze, and a chorus of whispers erupted.

“Oh my god, he really is.”

“What is he doing just standing there?”

“Is it just me, or does he look like he’s debating something?”

One of them nudged you. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in his head? Did you say something to him recently? Text him?”

You shook your head quickly, still staring at Heeseung. “No, I haven’t even looked at him, let alone talked to him.”

“Then why is he staring like that?”

“I don’t know!” you said, your voice low but frantic.

Another friend tilted her head, watching him closely. “It’s not just a glance, either. He’s full-on staring. Like he’s trying to figure out if he should come over here or something.”

The thought made your stomach flip, cause there was something more intense in the way he looked at you—like he was fighting some internal battle.

“Well, whatever’s going on,” one of your friends whispered, “he’s definitely not over you.”

You turned back to your friends, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “You guys are making this into something it’s not.”

One of them snorted. “Honey, he’s the one making it into something. Look at him.”

Against your better judgment, you glanced back at Heeseung, and your breath hitched when your eyes met his again. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze only grew more focused, like he wanted to make sure you knew he was looking.

You quickly turned back to your friends, forcing a tight smile. “Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t argue. One of them muttered, “Good idea,” as the group began gathering their things.

As you walked away from the bench, you resisted the urge to glance back at Heeseung. Your friends stayed close, their chatter filling the air as they tried to distract you, but it was hard to shake the feeling of his eyes still on you.

When you reached the school gates, one of them broke the silence. “So… are we just going to ignore the fact that he was practically burning a hole in your back with that stare?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice sharper than you intended. “We’re ignoring it.”

Another friend chuckled softly. “Okay, okay. But just so you know, he’s not ignoring you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “Well, he’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise most of the time.”

“That’s the thing,” someone said thoughtfully. “Guys like him—they act like they don’t care, but the moment they think they’re losing you? They start doing stuff like this.”

You didn’t reply, tightening your grip on your bag as the group walked down the street. You didn’t want to talk about Heeseung anymore, didn’t want to think about the way he looked at you.

✰ ✰ ✰

It was a vicious cycle, one you hated but couldn’t seem to break. Each time you told yourself it would be the last, that you’d stop answering the door, that you wouldn’t let him in again. And yet, every time the night fell and he showed up—messy hair, glassy eyes, and a crooked smile—you found yourself giving in, letting him cross the threshold into your apartment.

Heeseung had this way of making you feel like you were the center of his world. His hands were always warm, his voice low and sweet, whispering things that made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t describe.

“Why do you do this to me?” you’d asked one night, your voice breaking as you stared up at him, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He’d only smiled, brushing his thumb against your cheek as if he didn’t have an answer, or maybe because he didn’t want to give you one. “Because I can’t stay away from you,” he’d said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

But then morning would come, and he would vanish like a dream you couldn’t quite remember, leaving behind an empty space in your bed and a heavier one in your chest. And at school, it was always the same. His eyes would find you across the cafeteria or the hallway, and for a moment, it would feel like everything stopped. But he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t talk to you. He’d just look.

Your friends noticed it, too, how he’d stare at you as if you were the only thing in the room, even when there were other girls around him, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention.

“You’re letting him ruin you,” one of them said one afternoon, her voice tinged with frustration.

“I know,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “But it’s not like I can just stop.”

You wanted to hate him, for the way he seemed to pull you in only to push you away, for the way he made you feel like you were everything one second and nothing the next.

But you couldn’t. Because even though you knew it was toxic, even though you knew it was breaking you bit by bit, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go.

Because in those nights, when he looked at you like that, when he touched you like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, you felt wanted. Needed. And no matter how much it hurt afterward, you kept holding onto it, hoping that one day, he’d stop running.

It wasn’t until his friend Jake—of all people—came to talk to you that you started piecing things together. You’d been so caught up in the back-and-forth, the way Heeseung would tease you one moment and ignore you the next, that you never truly understood why. But now, hearing it from Jake, it was like a lightbulb went off in your mind.

Heeseung, despite all the other girls he flirted with, never gave them the attention he gave you. He never kissed them, never looked at them the way he looked at you.

And Jake had confirmed it. Heeseung was in love with you. Hopelessly in love, but he didn’t even know it himself. That’s why he acted the way he did. He didn’t know how to handle it, how to deal with it.

Jake had told you Heeseung was scared. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and it terrified him. So, he’d masked it all with arrogance, with distance. But when he was drunk, then the walls came down, his real feelings would surface. That’s why he’d always show up at your door when he was intoxicated—because, in those moments, he couldn’t hide from what he truly felt for you.

You wanted to be mad at him for hiding behind that facade, for playing with your feelings. But now you understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you; it was that he was so afraid of what this all meant, of what it would do to him, to both of you, that he couldn’t face it. So, he ran, and he used everything he could to keep you at arm’s length, to protect himself from being honest with you.

But knowing the truth didn’t make it hurt less. You still found yourself torn between wanting to be there for him, to help him figure it out, and wanting to protect yourself from getting hurt even more. Because at the end of the day, you were both so damn lost in this mess.

“Look, I know you’re confused. But you need to understand, Heeseung’s been a mess about this. He’s never felt anything like it before. And trust me, he doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You shook your head, trying to process everything Jake was saying. It didn’t seem to make sense. Why hadn’t he just told you? “But why does he act like he doesn’t care? Why ignore me at school like I’m nothing, and then do… all that when he’s with me?”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, knowing the weight of your words. “It’s easier for him to push you away than admit it to himself. He’s scared. He doesn’t get why he’s so into you. So he avoids it.”

You stared at him, your heart racing as everything started to fall into place. But you still had questions, things you didn’t understand. “But why doesn’t he just… talk to me? Be honest?”

Jake shrugged, his eyes softening. “He doesn’t know how to navigate this. It’s easier for him to hide behind his stupid behavior than face the truth.”

You were silent for a long moment, processing all of the information you had gotten.

When you didn`t answer, Jake let out a resigned sigh, his shoulder slumping slightly before he gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You’ve got to make him talk," he said quietly, his voice filled with sympathy. "You’re the only one who can get him to open up. Just… don’t wait forever, okay?"

He gave you one last look before walking off, leaving you standing there with your heart racing in your chest, all of your emotions tangled up in knots.

Your footsteps were heavy as you walked away from the scene, feeling the weight of every question that lingered in your mind. Why did you have to talk to Heeseung? You weren’t his therapist, nor his emotional support. Wasn’t he man enough to talk to you? You clenched your fists, frustration building in your chest.

What if Jake was wrong? What if he was just trying to paint a picture that didn’t exist, feeding you some narrative to make you feel better about the mess you were in? What if you were making a fool of yourself? The thoughts spiraled, doubt flooding your mind. Every interaction with Heeseung now felt like a game you didn’t know how to play, where the rules were constantly changing and you were left scrambling to catch up.

What if you were just a sidepiece? The thought stung more than you wanted to admit, and the image of Heeseung laughing with other girls earlier flashed in your mind. He was always so charming, so easy with them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you were just another stop on his list, a temporary distraction, something to pass the time until someone else caught his eye.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead as you made your way to your car. You wanted to be done with this—done with the confusion, the uncertainty, the constant emotional whiplash. But part of you knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing with Heeseung ever was.

But maybe Jake was right. Maybe you could be the one to make him talk—to make him finally admit what was really going on in his head, what he was feeling. But was it worth it? Was risking your heart worth it?

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you.

✰ ✰ ✰

Okay, to be fair, Heeseung had it coming. You repeated it in your mind like a mantra as you looked down at your phone, the screen lighting up with his constant calls and texts. Each one more desperate than the last, his words slurred, the grammar all over the place—clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. The messages seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, but you refused to reply.

You stared at the phone, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something deep and heavy that you couldn’t quite place. He had done this to himself, hadn’t he? He had made his choices, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The constant buzzing of your phone finally slowed, and you thought maybe he had given up. But then, the doorbell rang.

You froze, your stomach dropping. You crept cautiously to the door, standing there for a moment as the bell rang again and again, each chime making your heart race. The knocking started soon after, loud and urgent, but you stayed still, arms crossed, refusing to move.

You weren’t going to let him back in.

The knocking stopped suddenly, and for a moment, everything was silent. And then, through the door, you heard his voice.

“Please… please open the door…” His voice was shaky, desperate, as if he was on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry. Please, I need you. I just… please don’t leave me like this.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him. It was different.

"I need to see you... I can't stop thinking about you... Please, don't... don't shut me out, not now."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously unlocked the door, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the silence. When the door creaked open, you were met with the sight of him sitting on the ground, his posture slumped, eyes staring at the bottle in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As soon as he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic, as if he couldn't wait another second. Before you could even take a step back, his arms were around you, pulling you into an embrace that was far too tight to push him off.

You gasped in surprise, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest. "Heeseung, wait—" But your protest was quickly smothered as he held you tighter, pressing his face into the side of your neck.

“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you,” he mumbled, his words slurred and uneven, the alcohol clearly taking its toll. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just…” His grip on you tightened, his hands shaking slightly. “Please, don’t hate me… I need you…” His voice faltered, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the words to say, but before you could form anything coherent, Heeseung’s lips were suddenly on yours. His kiss was urgent, a little sloppy, as though he was trying to drown out whatever feelings were swirling inside him. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and you could feel the weight of his need against you.

"Stop," you whispered weakly, your hands pushing against his chest, but it did little to stop him. If anything, he just leaned in further, his lips moving with a frantic energy as he kissed you harder.

You pulled back for a moment, gasping for air, but Heeseung wasn’t letting go. His forehead rested against your neck as he breathed heavily, his lips brushing against your skin. “I need this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice muffled but laced with desperation. “I need you.”

You tried again, more forcefully this time, pushing him back slightly, but his grip on you tightened. “We need to talk,” you managed, your voice breaking, your hands trembling as you tried to create space between you two. “You can’t just keep doing this—coming to me when you’re drunk, acting like nothing happened—”

But Heeseung didn’t seem to hear you. His eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you again, this time a little more gently, though it still held that same desperate edge.

You couldn’t help but respond, even if you didn’t want to. Heeseung was like a drug, and you were already too far gone, as his kiss deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that this wasn’t how things should be. You deserved more than this chaotic cycle, more than the confusion, the highs and lows.

But in that moment, you let him hold you, let him kiss you, because you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Not when he needed you like this, not when you still felt that pull, even though you knew it wasn’t healthy.

And when he finally pulled away, looking at you with those dark eyes full of longing, you were left breathless, conflicted, and unable to move.

✰ ✰ ✰

It was like a cruel game he played—one step forward, two steps back. After the night, when he’d clung to you, he’d returned to his old ways at school, completely shutting you out. It was as if the moment he left your apartment, the walls came back up, and he was back to pretending you didn’t exist.

You’d see him in the halls, laughing with his friends, flirting with other girls, completely ignoring you like everything that happened between you two meant nothing. It was maddening.

You tried to act like it didn’t bother you. You went through the motions, keeping your head down, focusing on your schoolwork, your friends, anything to distract yourself from the constant ache in your chest. But the more he ignored you, the more you realized just how much it hurt. And it hurt even more because you knew that he wasn’t like this because he didn’t care. He was like this because he was scared. Scared of what was between you, scared of how vulnerable it made him.

Heeseung was a complicated mess, a boy who wanted everything but feared the very thing that could make him feel whole. And you? You were stuck in this limbo, torn between wanting to confront him and just walking away before you got hurt even more.

It was exhausting.

One minute, he was the boy who couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop kissing you, the one who made you feel like the only person in the room. The next minute, he was a stranger.

You were deep in thought, trying to make sense of the mess that was Heeseung, when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Turning to your left, you saw a guy you barely knew—someone who kept to himself at school, never talking much. He was standing there, a nervous but hopeful look on his face, and before you could even react, he asked, “Hey, would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?”

You opened your mouth to decline, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t make him feel bad, but before you could say anything, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in close with surprising force.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively stiffened as you turned to see none other than Heeseung standing there. He leaned in just enough to block your view of the guy, his eyes focused on the nervous stranger.

Before you could protest or say anything, Heeseung’s voice cut through the tension, casual but firm. “She’s not interested,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The quiet guy who had been asking you out now looked taken aback, stepping back a bit, unsure how to respond.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Heeseung had just walked up and made it clear to someone else that you weren’t available. You wanted to say something, to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. It felt as if everything had suddenly flipped upside down.

“I—uh…” The guy stammered, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” He turned quickly and walked off, leaving the two of you standing there in silence.

You snapped back from the suprise and pulled away from Heeseung’s grip, your mind spinning. “What the hell, Heeseung?” you managed, your voice laced with frustration.

He didn’t say anything at first. His gaze flickered to where the guy had disappeared, and then back to you.

You stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but instead, Heeseung just stood there, his expression unreadable.

"What’s your problem, Heeseung?" you demanded, stepping back. You couldn’t contain the anger that was rising in your chest. "Why are you acting like this?"

He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes avoiding yours for a second. He let out a frustrated sigh before meeting your gaze. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, the words almost sounding like a confession. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Your heart sank a little, but it didn’t stop the fire that was still burning inside you. You’d had enough of this back-and-forth.

"Then figure it out," you snapped, pushing him off. "I’m not going to keep doing this, Heeseung. Get your shit together."

He didn’t say anything more, but the look in his eyes—so conflicted, so full of uncertainty—said everything.

You turned on your heel, walking away before he or you could say anything. You didn’t know if you were making the right decision, but you couldn’t keep letting him drag you around like this.

It was later that night, after you’d gotten a bit of distance and time to cool down, when you heard the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing again.

You froze for a second, unsure if you wanted to deal with him yet again, but the quiet, hesitant knock that followed told you it wasn’t the same as before. You found yourself standing by the door, hands gripping the doorknob, hesitant to open it.

When you finally did, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, but only.. not the usual version of him you were used to seeing. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and he looked... broken.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time in a long time, there was no bravado. He was standing there, vulnerable, as if unsure of how to approach you after everything.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He wiped his face with his sleeve, almost embarrassed. “I fucked up. I know I’ve been an asshole… but I needed to see you. I need to talk.”

You stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. It was hard—too hard. You’d spent so much time questioning his intentions, wondering if he even cared. Seeing him like this, so exposed, made you feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to push him away for all the hurt he’d caused, but another part of you wanted to reach out and hear him out.

“Why now?” you asked quietly, your voice betraying the frustration you’d been holding back. “Why come to me like this? After everything?”

He looked down at the ground, visibly struggling. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I’ve been running from this. From you. From how I feel. And now I’m just… lost.” His words were shaky, like he was trying to hold onto his composure but was failing. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead he stepped closer, and for the first time, there was no arrogance in his movements, no cocky confidence. He looked genuinely lost, as if he was desperately trying to figure himself out. “I don’t know what I’m doing… but I know I want to fix it. Fix us. If you’ll let me.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling a little with uncertainty. “You’ve been so hot and cold. One minute you’re all over me, the next you act like I’m invisible. How am I supposed to trust that this is real?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was gathering the courage to say what had been haunting him. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “I know... I’ve been a mess. I was scared,” he confessed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that… terrified me. And instead of coming to you, talking to you about it, I ran. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”

The way he was standing, so different from how he used to act, made you reconsider everything. He wasn’t hiding behind walls anymore. “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he added quietly, his voice cracking just slightly. “I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what to say next. You were so unsure now, seeing him spill his heart out for you.

“I don’t feel this with anyone else,” he said softly. “No matter how hard I tried to push it down, it’s always been you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.” He paused for a moment, before he dropped down to his knees in front of you, taking both your hands gently in his, while his eyes never left yours. “I don’t know what I was waiting for. I was stupid, I was scared. But I know now... I love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you were nothing. You’re everything to me. Please... let me prove it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a long moment, all you could do was look at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You had never imagined he’d say those words, especially after everything that had happened. But now, as he knelt before you, his hands still holding yours with such gentleness, it felt different. It felt real.

Doubts still lingered, but as you looked at him—really looked at him—kneeling before you, his hands gripping yours, something inside you began to shift.

The truth was, you loved him too. Despite everything—the hurt, the confusion—you couldn’t deny that your heart ached for him. And seeing him like this, open in a way you never thought possible for him, made you realize how much you wanted to believe in him, in this. You took a slow breath, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke. “I don’t know, Heeseung…”

He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to say anything more. He just waited, his gaze never leaving yours, hopeful but patient.

You looked down at his hands still holding yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve been hurt, and I don’t want to be hurt again,” you said, your voice wavering just a little.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry. But I promise, I’ll do anything to make it right. Just… let me try.”

Your heart ached at his words. And slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded. “Okay. We can try.”

He exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features, but you could see the uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but something inside you told you that this—he—was worth trying for.

He stood up, his hands still holding yours, and pulled you gently into his arms. You let him, your body instinctively melting into his embrace. He buried his face in your hair, his breath warm against your neck.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you see that I mean it.”

Staning there in his arms, the doubts slowly began to fade. Maybe it would take time. But you felt hope stirring within you. Maybe you could try to make this work.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to read your emotions. His hand still cupped your face gently, waiting for a sign from you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low, filled with both uncertainty and hope.

"Yes."

Without another word, his lips descended onto yours, and the kiss was everything. Deep, urgent, and filled with so much emotion that it took your breath away.

When you started to feel breathless you tried to pull away, your breath ragged, but each time you did, he followed you, his lips catching yours again, desperate, insistent. Your heart raced, and your head spun as you tried to pull back for a moment’s reprieve, but Heeseung wasn’t having it.

"Please," he groaned between kisses, his hand gripping your waist tightly. "Just—just let me…" His voice was rough, desperate, as if your lips were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I need you. You… You make my heart beat. You make everything else fade. I want to breathe you in until I can’t breathe anymore."

His words were tangled, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough, like he was trying to make you understand something, but what, exactly, you weren’t sure. His kisses grew more frantic, more needy, and despite your attempts to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but respond to him.

You finally managed to gasp out his name, your voice barely a whisper, "Heeseung... Stop, I need to breathe."

He paused for a split second, just long enough for you to catch your breath, his breathing just as erratic as yours. "I can't... can't stop," he muttered. "You're all I think about... all I want."

✰ ✰ ✰

It was funny how much things had shifted since Heeseung’s confession. You couldn’t deny the change in him. He meant every word he’d said that night, and he made sure to show you just how serious he was about being with you.

Heeseung was intense in everything he did, and his love for you was no exception. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the room, or the way he clung to your hand like letting go would mean losing you. No, it was in the small things too. The way he remembered the little details about you, how he stayed up late just to make sure you got home safe from your late-night shifts, or the way he’d pepper your face with kisses whenever he thought you looked stressed.

And then, there were the nights. Heeseung had always been passionate, but now that he wasn’t holding back, it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He left no part of you untouched, no part of your heart unloved. Your skin bore the evidence of his intensity, faint marks that lingered long after his lips had moved on, a testament to just how much he adored you.

He didn’t just say he loved you; he showed it. In every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, Heeseung made sure you knew just how much you meant to him. And while it could get a little overwhelming at times, you couldn’t deny that it felt good—so good—to be loved so completely.

Heeseung's love was all-consuming, and with it came an intensity that left you breathless. He made it his mission to show you just how deeply he cared. But he never lost the playful side that made you fall for him in the first place.

He still teased you relentlessly, knowing exactly how to make your cheeks flush. “What’s that look for, baby?” he’d smirk when he caught you staring, leaning in close to whisper, “Can’t get enough of me?” His confidence was maddening, but you’d learned to give as good as you got.

Sometimes, he’d flirt with you like you were strangers meeting for the first time. “Hey, gorgeous,” he’d say, slidling up to you with a grin. “Come here often?” It didn’t matter if you were at your desk or in the middle of a crowded hallway; Heeseung always found a way to make you laugh and roll your eyes at his antics.

But then, he’d do a 360 and leave you utterly disarmed. Like the way he’d wrap his arms around your waist out of nowhere, pressing his lips to your ear to murmur, “I love you so much.” It was whiplash, the way he could go from cocky to soft in an instant, and it kept you on your toes.

Now that you had Heeseung basically wrapped around your finger, it felt empowering. He catered to you, always quick to appease your whims, and he seemed to thrive on your happiness. Whether it was picking up your favorite snacks, carrying your bag, or pampering you after a long day, Heeseung was yours—and he made sure you knew it.

But he had his limits.

There were moments when he reminded you that, while he adored you, he wasn’t completely under your control. Like when you pushed him too far with teasing, a playful remark about him being “so soft” for you turning into a challenge in his eyes.

One such night, you’d been cheeky, testing how much you could get away with. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?” you’d teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened, the shift immediate. “Anything?” he repeated, voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could process, he had you pinned, his hand firm but careful as it held your wrists above your head.

“You like to push me, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Think I’m all soft and sweet?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he showed you just how wrong you were. Heeseung wasn’t rough in a careless way—he was calculated, controlled, and oh-so-intense. He left no room for doubt about who had the upper hand in those moments.

By the end of it, you were breathless, your legs trembling as you clung to him for support. Heeseung’s smug grin and the way he kissed your forehead tenderly afterward only made it worse.

“Still think I’m soft?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face.

You couldn’t even answer, too dazed to form words, which only seemed to please him more.

The next day, walking was a challenge, and Heeseung, ever the charmer, had the audacity to chuckle when you winced. “Told you there’s only so much I’ll let you boss me around,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

It was infuriating, but it was also Heeseung. And if you were being honest, you loved every second of it.

a/n: finished this while waiting for the train to come, in the snow storm :) reblogs and commentary are appreciated <33

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Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

[palmerzy]

period sex with Spencer? to help relieve the cramps he like puts a towel down and dicks the reader deep pls pls pls

also requested: Might be weird but l'm on my period and have to ask, would you write something with Spencer and period sex?

don’t worry 2nd anon, it’s not weird at all, period sex is definitely like…top 5 ways to do it let’s be real! and spencer would totally be down for helping his partner feel better ;)

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes incl. blood & period sex.

spencer is no stranger to blood, so the prospect of period sex is really no different to normal sex for him, with the added bonus of helping you relieve your cramps.

he’s happy to give you his hands and his cock, and he’d probably offer his mouth too if you asked for it, but there’s a line somewhere. he covers his bed in towels for you, ensuring they overlap so you won’t fear bleeding through. he’s extra attentive during this time of the month, especially when it comes to intimacy.

knowing how good an orgasm is for cramp relief, he’s usually the first to suggest it, before the thought even crosses your mind. if you’re curled up on the sofa reading or watching a movie, he’ll come up behind you, leaning his chin on his hands as he speaks, “i set up some towels in the bedroom.” his words are implicit enough to have you leaping up, soft feet padding against hardwood floors in anticipation.

once you’re sat all pretty on his bed, legs spread and naked from the waist down, he’s like a predator hunting prey, giving you that shit-eating grin as his fingers tease the crimson staining your entrance. he’d plunge two inside in no time, using the blood as lube, curling his fingers towards himself.

he loves the way your reactions seem to be louder during this time of the month, like the pleasure is more intense as his slender fingers work you towards a release. he circles his thumb against your clit, gently because he’s aware it’s more sensitive, whispering sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

“come for me, baby, you know you’ll feel better after,” he murmurs, a tender kiss of his lips landing on the shell of your ear, whilst his fingers squelch in and out of your depths. his wrist and hand is coated in a gory mess by now, but his focus is on you, making you feel better.

when he’s made you come at least once from his fingers, he’d move onto your joint pleasures - not without taking a moment to go wash his hands, of course. he’s not a big fan of seeing blood on your body anywhere it shouldn’t be, so covering your hips and waist in your own plasma wouldn’t settle well in his overactive mind.

nonetheless, once his hands are clean and he can hold you as he wishes, he’d settle you back against the pillows, your legs spread in anticipation for him. even just running the head of his cock along your slit and gathering your fluids is enough to make him shudder, bracing one hand on your waist, his head buried against your shoulder.

when he finally slowly sinks into you, he lets out a shaky breath, feeling your wet heat surround him. if he’s honest, he loves period sex, mainly because the blood makes you warmer when he’s sheathed within you, and he thrives on that warmth. spencer is definitely someone who participates in sex largely for comfort, and there’s nothing more comfortable than being snuggly settled inside of you and knowing he’s helping his partner relieve their pain.

he doesn’t overly bother keeping a slow pace, knowing a faster rhythm will ease the cramps more. he pistons his hips into you, hands grasping at your waist and your stomach, feeling the slight bloat due to your ovulation as he whines against your neck. your own hands claw at his back, adding even more blood to the mix, legs tightening around him to pull him impossibly closer.

he can feel his pelvis and upper thighs being coated with a mixture of your fluids, but he’s unbothered, continuing to pump his cock into you. every smack of his tip against the slight ruggedness of your walls as you shed for the month has his mind blanking, only able to conjure thoughts of you and your pliant body beneath him.

every time spencer fucks you, he’s deep, but when it’s that time of the month, something about each stroke of his cock feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, like he’s so physically within you that you could become one. you can’t help the way you write beneath him, back arching against his chest, hips rolling to meet his rhythm.

when he’s ready to come, he’d reach down a hand once more, circling his thumb around your sensitive clit as he had done previously, coating the digit crimson. “you’re so warm, gonna make me come,” “so good, so so good, is it helping? yeah? i’m helping you?” he’d pant against your neck, and it’s then that you’d realise part of him genuinely just gets off on being beneficial to your body, on easing the pain swarming in your lower abdomen.

spencer’s hips snap just a few more times before the both of you are reaching climax, your crevice tightening around him, blood leaking onto the towels beneath the two of you. he’d keep his hips exactly parallel to yours, letting his come swarm within you, pure white mixing with deep red in a passionate cocktail.

he’d pull out eventually, cock and lower tummy covered, but he doesn’t mind. he’s really, truly, unbothered. he got to come, you got to come and feel better, so why would a little blood put him off? plus, if anything, it’s just an excuse for the both of you to run off to the shower together, likely for round two.

thanks anons! 💋

[ravenmacduff]

Sorry that I'm about to write a treatise on monsterfucking. But this post sparked that little obsessive part of my brain that needs to talk about it. So, I see monsterfucking in a couple of different ways. The most basic and simple is Monster HOT. Monsters are inherently sexy. And writers and directors *coughs Del Toro* recognize this and play into it. The Asset was designed to be attractive with a nice butt and kissable lips.

But we also have to ask why Monster HOT? Well, from my own experience as a trans woman, the monster is always portrayed as "the other". Myself and people like me are constantly demonized. They see us as dangerous. They call us predators, freaks, forced into this societal position where there are legitimately people afraid of us. (This goes for other marginalized identities too)

Afraid in the same way that they would be of a monster. And I think that's where a couple of my own ideas come into place. The first is empathy for the monster. In seeing ourselves in the monstrous, we want to reach out and offer love and affection. The same love and affection that we, ourselves need, and often don't receive. There's many horror movies where the monster just wants to be loved and in the end is rejected. Or killed based on societal fear.

King Kong is one story. It's represented in the final quote of the movie "It was beauty that killed the beast". Kong's love for Ann Darrow, which it's been a while, but I believe was rejected in the 1933 film, and accepted in the 2005 film. Kong always was "the other" (and was suggested in criticism of the film to represent blackness) to Ann Darrow, a conventionally attractive white woman. Kong's love of Ann represented the fears of interracial marriage at the time. Kong craved love, and society doomed him. As someone who is also othered doesn't it make sense to empathize with him?

Shape of Water, again also plays with this but more explicitly. Our Protag, Elisa is a disabled (mute) woman, her best friends are her black co-worker and her gay neighbour. All three are marginalized people. All three are shown to face discrimination throughout the film. Del Toro made sure that the fact these people were othered was text, rather than subtext. The main antagonist, Colonel Strickland, of the story is a white cishet man. His aggression, disregard for others and need for domination are extremely evident from his introduction. He's the kind of man who would be a protagonist in any other horror movie. Back to Elisa, it's her otherness that allows her to see the humanity within The Asset. The intelligence, the capability for love. In the end it's that love that saved both of them, while Colonel Strickland was doomed by his hate.

Those are just two examples of empathic monsters. For myself of course I want to love and be loved, and for a long time the fear of rejection for being a trans woman stopped me from truly achieving that. But I am loved and I'm loved by others like me. Who don't fear me because it found a different way to womanhood. And so of course I love monsters, because it shows I can be loved too.

My second thought about monsterfucking relates to a loss of control. Your powerlessness against a creature 10 times stronger than you. Who has all sorts of ways to make you submit. In other words a non-con kink. A kink that is often highly reviled because of its implications, but also very common. I believe the woman in the picture that I'm responding to is specifically referencing her own disgust with dub- or non-con.

Loss of control is a huge kink because many people, especially women feel like they always have to be in control. In control of their emotions, in control of any situation, in control of their sexuality, in control for their own safety. The point of being in control of our sexuality has been hammered in so intensely that to accept that we even have desires is hard. We're not supposed to want sex, we're supposed to deny ourselves. Slut shaming, attacks against women for being too sexual, all reinforce that a woman is not allowed to want for herself. We crave a release, to stop thinking all the time, to allow ourselves to want.

While heterosexual sex is so focused on the man, on the masculine penis, that a woman's pleasure is oft put to the side. You still have to think about others even when you want pleasure yourself.

Well, the monster doesn't care. The monster is going to give you exactly what you want have been denying yourself. This goes for men too. Louis from Interview with a Vampire is a good example. His bisexuality is frowned on by society, but Lestat doesn't care. Lestat is going to show Louis exactly what allowing himself to let go and accept pleasure is like. And for most of the movie Louis continues to try and deny himself, until he finally lets go and accepts who he is.

Speaking of vampires that brings me to my last point. Monsterfucking as a way to get power. And the clearest example I can think of this is Twilight. Bella, while attracted to Edward, was more interested in receiving the power Edward has, than Edward himself. She wanted to be a vampire and this was clear from the beginning. But Edward had to be all Mormon about it. There's many people who find power in the monstrous. To take a piece of the monstrous into yourself and thus gain the same power. And power is sexy.

Werewolves are shown as power through their physical prowress. It's very rare you see a lanky, malnourished werewolf. *Looks at a certain series with distain*

Idk I kinda rambled on. But those are my thoughts

Every day I am thankful to not be a TikTok user

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART TEN

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 7.7k

A/N: Sorry this one is a little late in the day I was bob the builder today putting a dresser together 😭. I think y’all will like this chapter, it’s just really cute honestly, couldn’t do any angst after yesterday just needed pure serotonin. Hope everyone had a great day 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

After their first date, Paige and Azzi found themselves spending more time together again. Their connection felt natural, as if no time had passed, but now it was layered with a new intimacy they didn’t have before. They still followed the established boundaries, but unlike before, the boundaries were more exciting than restrictive–filled with unspoken promises and a sense of anticipation.

When they watched movies, they cuddled, Azzi often curling into Paige’s side. Without thinking, Azzi’s fingers would trace patterns on Paige’s palm. A new habit, different from how she used to play with her fingers, a habit Paige quickly became addicted to. Despite the growing closeness, they still hadn’t kissed and they didn’t spend the night in one another’s rooms, much to Paige’s dismay who claimed she just wanted to cuddle. Still, she was always respectful, hugging Azzi and giving her a kiss on the cheek as she left or insisting to walk Azzi ‘home’ even if it was just a couple of stairs down.

Their busy schedule made it hard to plan another date. November was always chaotic with practices, games, and travel taking up most of their time. But when they did finally find a free evening, Azzi suggested they go bowling.

Azzi had been teasing Paige all night about how she was finally better than her at something, but of course, Paige disagreed. “I’ve had more strikes than you,” Paige pointed out, throwing a glance over at the scoreboard. “You’ve just been lucky.

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. You were the one lucky at the beginning.” She rolled the ball down the lane, watching it spin toward the pins with confidence.

Paige laughed, but the competition was lighthearted. The evening had been filled with the kind of easy back-and-forth that only happens when two people are completely comfortable with one another.

When it was Paige’s turn to bowl again, Azzi was walking back towards the chairs and Paige’s hand swatted her ass hard as she said “I’ll catch up,” with a grin, not waiting for a response before walking towards the lane with her ball in hand.

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything, the brief flash of amusement on her face giving away just how much she was enjoying the attention.

As the game went on, their touchiness grew more frequent, more natural. At one point, Azzi was standing directly behind Paige while she was preparing for her next turn. Sheleaned in, resting her chin on Paige’s shoulder as her arms wrapped loosely around Paige’s waist. Paige, for her part, didn’t flinch, the contact familiar and comforting in a way despite Azzi’s intentions. She just focused on the game, letting Azzi’s presence sink in.

Azzi’s breath tickled the back of Paige’s neck, sending a rush of warmth through her. “You seem so focused, P,” Azzi whispered, her voice light but teasing.

Paige gave a half-laugh as she released the ball, knocking down most of the pins. “I was,” she replied, her voice amused. She looked at Azzi, catching her eyes for a moment, feeling the subtle tension of their proximity.

They started to take breaks in between each turn, both of them wanting the night to last longer. When they sat down to rest, Azzi casually threw her legs over Paige’s lap, not giving it a second thought. She leaned her head back against the seat, her eyes closed, as Paige absentmindedly ran her fingers along Azzi’s leg, a silent acknowledgment of how close they had become.

Paige loved every second of the date even though it was so simple. She loved how carefree Azzi seemed to be. How she wasn’t tensing slightly at the beginning of every touch while they were in public. How she initiated most of it. It was simple but Paige definitely noticed all the little things about Azzi’s behavior tonight. The younger girl just seemed a lot more comfortable than she used to.

As time passed, their interactions grew more intimate as they got lost in one another's presence. Azzi, doing whatever felt natural, slid her hands under Paige’s hoodie as they talked, her fingers brushing against her hips. Paige’s breath hitched slightly, a quick jolt of surprise running through her. She sent Azzi a look, her voice low but clear when she said, “Azzi please.”

Azzi immediately pulled her hands back, putting her hands up in surrender, but the playful twinkle in her eyes remained. “What? You didn’t like it?” she teased.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re pushing it,” she said, though there was a smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi only shrugged, unconcerned. “Alrighty,” she said with a grin, clearly content to let the teasing continue.

It was clear that they were only getting more comfortable with one another. Paige, for all her playful competitiveness, couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed these little moments with Azzi.

The game continued on for far longer than either of them had intended. With every turn, every laugh, and every playful jab, the competition was forgotten, lost in the easy rhythm of each other's company. The tension between them picked up and Paige swore Azzi was doing it on purpose, so it became less about the game and more about Paige trying to control herself.

Azzi eventually won, but it wasn’t really a surprise. Paige didn’t protest, though. She might’ve let Azzi take the lead intentionally the last two times she bowled, but she played it off like she was disappointed.

“Bullshit!” Paige groaned, pretending to sulk. “I let you win!”

Azzi smirked, leaning back in her seat as she wiped her hands. “Sure you did,” she teased. “Let’s go with that.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at her lips. It was one of those rare, easy moments, the kind that felt like nothing could ruin it.

They eventually left the bowling alley, stepping out into the cool night air. The sounds of the city were alive around them, but they felt distant, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them. The hum of their playful banter lingered as they leaned against Paige's car, the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp casting soft light over them.

Azzi slipped into the small space between Paige and the car, her arms instinctively wrapping around Paige’s neck. Paige looked at her, her gaze flickering between Azzi’s eyes and the way they darted, almost unconsciously, to her lips.

"You know you can kiss me, right?" Paige asked, her voice soft but teasing, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Azzi smiled slightly, her cheeks warming. "I’m not supposed to," she murmured, her words quiet for only the two of them.

Paige tilted her head, inching closer as her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Mmm, why not?"

Azzi hesitated, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Finally, she said, "I have a timeline I’m supposed to follow."

Paige chuckled, as she leaned even closer, her breath brushing against Azzi's skin. "We were never really good at sticking to plans, were we?" Her voice dropped but her tone stayed playful.

Azzi’s resolve wavered, her heart rate picking up as Paige’s lips hovered so close, teasing her with their proximity. Her fingers tightened slightly around Paige’s neck, her voice finally breaking through the tension, "Kiss me then."

Paige didn’t hesitate, instantly leaning down, her lips meeting Azzi’s in a soft kiss. The initial touch was slow, tentative, but it only took a moment for the kiss to deepen, the rhythm between them syncing as if they’d been doing this for years.

Paige’s hand found its way to Azzi’s back, holding her closer as the kiss stretched on, each second feeling longer than the last. When they finally broke apart, Paige’s voice was low, a little breathless as she mumbled against Azzi’s lips, “I thought we were supposed to be moving slow.”

Azzi’s smile was slow and knowing as she pulled Paige back in for another kiss, her arms tightening around Paige’s neck. She didn’t answer right away, instead kissing Paige again, missing the way her lips felt way too much. When she did pull back, just slightly, her voice was soft, but certain. “This is slow.”

Paige didn’t say anything else. She simply melted back into the kiss, her hands tracing the familiar lines of Azzi’s back as time seemed to slow around them. Everything about the night, about their connection, felt like it was falling into place—slowly, but surely.

After what felt like hours—though it was probably only a couple of minutes—Azzi finally pulled away from the kiss, her lips swollen, her breath shaky. She let out a light laugh, trying to catch her breath. “Alright,” she said softly, still holding Paige close, “we need to stop.”

Paige, still a little dazed, just looked at her, eyes full of admiration. She didn’t argue. There was no hesitation in her response. “Okay,” she nodded, her voice soft but firm, clearly completely comfortable with whatever pace Azzi wanted to set for them.

Azzi gave her one more quick kiss, a brief moment that made Paige’s heart race again before Azzi’s hands gently pressed against her chest, pushing her back softly. Paige couldn’t help but smile, the corners of her lips curling up in a way that Azzi couldn’t possibly miss.

Paige opened the passenger door, stepping back and letting Azzi slide into the seat. The moment felt easy, natural—like they had both found their way to something they hadn’t even known they were looking for.

Paige rounded the front of the car and got in the driver’s seat. She didn’t rush, not really. They both knew it was late, but there was no urgency in how they moved. As she started the engine and pulled away from the parking lot, the drive back to campus felt peaceful, even with the soft hum of the tires on the road. It wasn’t filled with heavy conversation; it didn’t need to be. There was something perfect about just being there, together, in the quiet moments.

December 2022

The suite was alive with the sound of laughter, music, and the occasional shout from one of the drinking games happening in every corner as the team celebrated their holiday party they decided to throw with just them. It was a whirlwind of holiday cheer, albeit the slightly messy, drunken kind. Twinkling fairy lights were strung haphazardly across the ceiling, their warm glow clashing with the flashing colors of a mini disco ball someone had set up in the corner, and the room had a faint scene of spiked eggnog lingering in the air.

Paige, leaning against the counter with a cup in hand, was watching Azzi from across the room. The chaos of the holiday party swirled around her—laughter, music, and the occasional crash of something hitting the floor—but her focus stayed locked on Azzi.

Azzi was deep in a game of flip cup, her competitiveness on full display as she high-fived Aubrey after every successful flip. The room erupted in cheers as her team scored another win, and she flashed a huge grin. Mid-celebration, she glanced over and caught Paige staring. Her eyebrow quirked, and a playful smirk spread across her lips. Paige rolled her eyes, feigning disinterest, and took a sip of her drink, hoping to appear unaffected.

Nika slid up beside her, laughing as she nudged Paige’s shoulder. “You’re so down bad, twin.”

Paige shot her a glare. “No, I’m not.”

Nika snorted, crossing her arms. “Right, because casually ogling your ‘not girlfriend yet’ all night is totally normal behavior. You act like you can’t go talk to her.”

Paige shrugged, attempting to play it cool. “Just keeping my distance.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Paige sighed, mumbling as she glanced at her drink. “She still has this no-sex rule, and I’m a little drunk. Just trying to make my life easier, you know?”

Before Nika could respond, as if on cue, Azzi made her way over. Without a word, she reached out and took Paige’s cup from her hand, taking a long sip. Azzi’s casual dominance sent a ripple of heat through Paige, who could only stare as Azzi set the cup back down on the counter with a smile.

“Thanks for that,” Azzi said, her voice light but her eyes were hazy, a clear indication of her being a little more than tipsy.

“You could’ve asked,” Paige said, crossing her arms and attempting to sound unimpressed.

Azzi leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to mess with Paige. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Nika let out an exaggerated groan. “Ya’ll are ridiculous. Just fuck already!”

Paige rolled her eyes, muttering, “Mind your business.” But the small smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

Nika rolled her eyes, muttering something about how she couldn’t deal with them and she was fixing this before the end of the night, before walking away to join the chaos on the other side of the room. The second she was gone, Azzi turned her full attention back to Paige.

Azzi stepped closer and she wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck, her fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of her neck. The gentle pressure of her touch made Paige clench her jaw, and before she could say anything, Azzi leaned in, brushing her lips against Paige’s in a slow, deliberate kiss.

Paige exhaled softly into the kiss, her hands instinctively finding Azzi’s waist before sliding lower. Her fingers grazed Azzi’s hip, before she squeezed her ass pulling her closer. With a playful smirk, Paige muttered against Azzi’s lips, “I think we should take Nika’s advice.”

Azzi smiled into the kiss, her voice low. “Should we?”

Paige didn’t hesitate, her lips brushing against Azzi’s again as she murmured a breathy, “Mhmm,” before deepening the kiss. The room around them seemed to fade away, the party’s noise becoming a distant hum as they got lost in each other.

But just as Paige was settling into the moment, Azzi abruptly pulled back, her hands slipping away from Paige’s neck. Her eyes sparkled as she took a deliberate step back.

“I’m sure you would like that,” Azzi said, her tone light and teasing as she grabbed Paige’s drink and turned on her heel.

“Wait, what?” Paige blinked, momentarily stunned as Azzi began walking away, her hips swaying in the process.

Azzi glanced back over her shoulder, smirking. “You’ll survive.”

Paige groaned, leaning back against the counter as she watched Azzi immerse herself back in the game. Her hand ran through her hair in frustration, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

…

Later that night the suite had somehow descended into even more chaos. At Nika’s insistence—“To spice things up!” she had declared—they decided to start doing body shots. No one could quite remember how the idea came about, but with the amount of alcohol flowing, no one was questioning it too much either.

It began with Lou and Dorka, the two veterans claiming none of them could drink like foreigners, laughing uncontrollably as Lou struggled to stay still while Dorka leaned over her, slurping the drink out of her belly button with dramatic flair. The room erupted into cheers and whistles, fueling the competitive energy. Jana and Ayanna, eager to join the fun, followed suit. The two freshmen stumbled through the motions, Jana’s laugh infectious as they fumbled with the lime and nearly spilled the salt everywhere.

Then it was Paige and Nika’s turn. Paige smirked as she stepped up, her confidence on full display as Nika flopped onto the counter dramatically, taking off her shirt completely in the name of competition. The crowd around them hooted and hollered as Paige leaned down expertly, sucking the drink from Nika’s belly button, licked the salt from her skin, and grabbed the lime with her teeth, making sure to avoid Nika’s lips in the process.

“Okay, I see you!” Nika teased, sitting up and swatting Paige playfully on the shoulder as the group burst into cheers. Paige laughed, grabbing a towel to wipe her face, when she noticed the next pair stepping up.

It was Aaliyah and Azzi.

The energy in the room shifted slightly for Paige as Azzi took her spot on the counter, her movements slow. Aaliyah leaned down to start, but the moment she did, Azzi’s eyes found Paige across the room. The heat in her gaze was unmistakable—a playful challenge mixed with something deeper.

Paige froze, her breath catching as she tried—and failed—to focus on Aaliyah going through the motions. Her jaw clenched tightly, the tension building with each passing second. She shouldn’t be jealous; it was Aaliyah for christ sake, her teammate and friend. But watching Aaliyah run her tongue up Azzi’s stomach, tracing a path that Paige desperately wanted to follow herself, was more upsetting than she wanted to admit.

Azzi knew exactly what she was doing. That much was clear in the way her gaze stayed locked on Paige the entire time, her smirk widening as Aaliyah reached for the lime. When Azzi tilted her head slightly, her expression was daring, almost taunting.

Paige’s jaw clinched as Aaliyah leaned in, and she swore she saw Azzi adjust ever so slightly, ensuring the lime was far enough in her mouth that Aaliyah’s lips brushed hers when she grabbed it. The brief contact drew a soft laugh from Aaliyah, but Azzi didn’t react—her focus remained on Paige, her smirk now carrying a touch of satisfaction.

Nika nudged Paige, grinning knowingly. “Damn she’s good. You gonna let her one-up you like that?”

Paige shook her head, her jaw tightening as she forced herself to look away, her mind racing as heat spread through her.

The body shots continued, with different combinations of teammates stepping up and cheers erupting after each turn. Laughter filled the room, and the alcohol buzzed through everyone’s veins, amplifying the chaos. Just when Paige thought they’d finally moved past the game, Nika, deciding to be an instigator tonight, raised her voice.

“Wait, I don’t think Azzi’s done a body shot yet!” she declared, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Paige immediately shot Nika a warning look. “Don’t even—”

Before she could finish, Nika grinned and gave Paige a firm push forward. “Azzi, go ahead!”

Paige groaned, stumbling slightly but catching herself. “Nope. Not happening,” she said firmly, backing away. There was no way she was letting Azzi have that kind of control over her in front of everyone. She knew exactly how Azzi operated when she had Paige like that and she wasn’t about to play into it.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team quickly caught on to Nika’s scheme.

“Paige! Paige! Paige!” they started chanting, their voices growing louder with each passing second.

Paige rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply as the chants filled the room. She glanced at Azzi, who stood off to the side, arms crossed, her amusement barely concealed. The glint in her eye said it all: she was thoroughly enjoying this and the ball was in Paige’s court.

“Fine!” Paige yelled, throwing her hands up in surrender. The room erupted in cheers as she climbed onto the counter, muttering under her breath about how she was going to kill Nika later.

She lifted her shirt over her sports bra, exposing her toned stomach. Ice, of course, took over the role of bartender, grinning as she poured way too much liquor into Paige’s belly button. Faking a “oops,” as the liquid pooled messily out of the sides. Ice added a long salt line up Paige’s torso for good measure.

Azzi stepped forward, her expression calm, but her eyes said otherwise. She grabbed a lime from the counter and walked over to Paige. Holding the lime between her fingers, she leaned in just close enough for Paige to catch the faint scent of her perfume.

“Here,” Azzi said softly, her voice low and a little teasing as she handed the lime to Paige.

Paige huffed, reluctantly taking the lime and placing it between her lips. The weight of everyone’s attention was pressing down on her, but it was nothing compared to the way Azzi was looking at her.

The room fell silent, each teammate watching. Most of them had been waiting for Paige and Azzi to officially get together, and this felt like a nudge in the right direction. Still, there were a few stifled snickers and whispered comments about how this was likely to be both hilarious and a little disgusting to watch.

Azzi stepped closer, her calm composure somehow making everything feel ten times more heated. Her eyes raked over Paige’s body, studying her with an infuriating mix of amusement and intrigue. It was as if Paige was a puzzle Azzi had all the time in the world to figure out. Then, she leaned down, her breath warm against Paige’s skin as she took her time, drawing out every second.

Paige’s jaw tightened as Azzi’s lips brushed against her stomach, soft and extremely slow. Azzi didn’t just drink the liquor pooling in Paige’s belly button; she made a deliberate effort to catch every drop that had spilled from Ice’s purposeful overpour. The slight pressure of her lips and the way her tongue darted over Paige’s skin sent jolts of heat coursing through Paige’s body.

The room was still, but Paige barely noticed. She was hyper-aware of every movement Azzi made. As Azzi worked her way up, trailing along the line of salt, she slowed even further, letting her tongue drag against Paige’s skin in agonizingly unhurried strokes. Occasionally, she’d pause to suck lightly, never enough to make it obvious to everyone else, but enough form Paige to feel it.

By the time Azzi reached the lime, Paige was unbearably warm, her entire body tight with tension. Azzi stopped, their faces now just inches apart. Her smile returned as her eyes locked onto Paige’s. The room seemed to hold its breath as Azzi leaned in, closing the small gap.

When she finally took the lime, her tongue deliberately brushed against Paige’s lips, the contact sending a sharp jolt through Paige. Azzi pulled the lime away effortlessly, stepping back with a gleam in her eyes.

The room exploded into cheers and laughter, but Paige remained frozen, still reeling from what just happened. Azzi, seemingly composed, chewed the lime and shot Paige a quick wink before walking away, leaving Paige sitting there, flushed and completely on edge.

…

Paige had gone painfully quiet, her usual banter replaced by soft sips from her drink. She kept her focus on anything but Azzi, trying to blend into the chaos of the room while her mind raced.

Eventually, Azzi wandered over and took a seat next to her, sliding in close like she always did. The casual intimacy of it only made Paige’s restraint feel more fragile. Azzi leaned in, her shoulder brushing Paige’s, her presence impossible to ignore.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Azzi teased, her voice low and warm, but Paige still didn’t look at her.

Paige exhaled sharply through her nose and muttered, “Az, you need to chill.”

Azzi tilted her head, a small, amused smile playing at her lips. “Why?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Paige finally turned her head, her blue eyes meeting Azzi’s. She looked almost exasperated, her jaw tight as she said, “Because I’m trying to be respectful.”

The simple statement made Azzi pause, a flush of warmth spreading through her. She hummed softly, the sound tinged with something deeper, something more tender.

It wasn’t the first time Paige had stopped herself, holding back for Azzi’s sake, but it never failed to do things to her. The way Paige clenched her jaw, her whole body tense as she fought to respect Azzi’s boundaries, only made it harder for Azzi to keep her own.

Azzi’s resolve was strongest when Paige was being playful or teasing, when she was being cocky, but it crumbled every time Paige was gentle. Every time Paige immediately pulled back when Azzi said “stop,” or when Azzi could see the physical effort it took for Paige to keep her hands from wandering, it made Azzi’s heart race.

And yet, despite how much it turned her on, it also made her feel safe—like Paige wasn’t just after the thrill but genuinely cared about her comfort. Azzi didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the warmth settle over her.

“You’re making it very hard to be chill, you know,” Azzi finally said, leaning in just enough for her voice to brush against Paige’s ear.

Paige’s grip tightened on her drink as she glanced at Azzi. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly making it easy, either.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, her lips curving into a smile as she studied Paige’s face. Then, without breaking eye contact, she said, “Let’s go, then.”

Paige blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what—”

But before she could finish, Azzi was already grabbing her hand, pulling her up from the couch. Paige barely had time to process what was happening as Azzi wove them through the chaotic room, her grip firm.

“Az, hold on—” Paige tried, but her voice faltered when Azzi looked back at her, .

As they neared the door, Nika spotted them leaving and smirked, her voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Use protection!” she called out, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The room erupted in laughter, with a few drunken cheers and whistles echoing after them. Paige groaned, her cheeks flushing as she glanced back at the team, who were thoroughly entertained. “Nika, shut up!” she shouted over her shoulder, but her words only fueled more laughter.

Azzi, however, didn’t miss a beat. She simply smirked, holding the door open for Paige as if they weren’t leaving the party under a spotlight.. “Ignore her,” she said smoothly, tugging Paige out into the quiet hallway.

…

As Azzi entered the room, she immediately moved toward the small speaker on her nightstand, connecting her phone to play some music. If any of her suitemates decided to come back, at least the music could cover up some of the sounds that might slip through.

Paige slipped into the bathroom, the soft sound of water splashing in the background as she dabbed a bit on her face. Azzi, now settled on the bed, let out a quiet laugh as she heard this taking place. The blonde was always so intentional about controlling herself, but tonight she was visibly trying to calm the fire that had been building.

Paige emerged from the bathroom, wiping her face with a towel, her expression soft as she took in the sight of Azzi. Without thinking, Azzi pulled off her shirt, tossing it aside before laying back on the bed, her body relaxed, her eyes never leaving Paige. She tilted her head slightly as she looked up, studying Paige with that familiar, intense gaze that made Paige's heart race.

Paige stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, just watching. Her chest rose and fell with deep, measured breaths, her lips still slightly parted as she tried to compose herself. Azzi could see it all—how Paige was struggling to maintain control, how the tension between them had grown unbearable for her.

Azzi’s lips curled into a sly smile as she sat up slightly, reaching out and taking Paige’s hand. Her touch was gentle but firm, pulling Paige toward her.

Now Paige was hovering above Azzi, her hands planted on either side of Azzi’s head. The air between them felt electric, charged with all the things they weren’t saying. Azzi’s dark eyes locked onto Paige’s, searching for something unspoken, while her free hand lightly grazed the back of Paige’s neck.

Neither of them moved to break the silence. As they just looked at each other, savoring the moment.

“You’re thinking too much,” Azzi said softly, her voice a gentle murmur that broke through the tension.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze flickering down to Azzi’s lips. “Yeah, well, I have a lot to think about. Trying to control myself” she muttered, her tone almost defensive.

Azzi let out a soft laugh, the sound warm and inviting. “You don’t need to.” Her hand on Paige’s neck slid upward, her fingers threading into Paige’s hair. “So stop thinking.”

Paige’s resolve wavered as her body instinctively leaned closer, her breath mingling with Azzi’s. Their faces were so close now that Paige could feel the warmth radiating from Azzi’s skin, the subtle scent of her perfume making her head spin.

“Az...” Paige started, but her voice faltered as Azzi’s thumb gently traced a line along her jaw.

“I want you Paige” Azzi whispered, her tone teasing yet tender.

Paige didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, she dipped her head, her lips finally brushing against Azzi’s in a slow, deliberate kiss that made time feel like it had stopped altogether.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it quickly deepened as Paige’s desire took over. Azzi’s fingers trailed up to the back of Paige’s neck, tangling in her hair as their rhythm fell into sync. Paige lowered herself a little more onto Azzi, the need to be closer to her growing with every second.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity—kissing, breathing each other in, and forgetting the world outside Azzi’s room. Paige wasn’t in any rush; she was silently waiting, letting Azzi take the lead as she had ever since they started seeing each other. It was an unspoken understanding between them, and Paige respected it deeply.

Their kisses broke intermittently, a few times when they were taking clothes off, tossing them aside with ease, and again when they paused, foreheads pressed together, just looking at one another. The space between them felt different, charged with the weight of everything they hadn’t yet said but felt so deeply.

Eventually, Paige leaned down, her lips trailing down Azzi’s jaw to her neck. Her movements slowed and purposeful, as she left soft, visible marks. Azzi’s breath hitched each time, her hands gripping Paige’s head as she pulled her closer.

“Paige,” Azzi murmured, her voice breathy and laced with warmth.

Paige hummed against Azzi’s skin, the vibration making Azzi shiver. “Hmm?” she responded, her mouth never leaving Azzi’s neck, where she continued her soft assault, her lips and teeth working together.

Azzi arched slightly into Paige, her voice quieter now, like the words were slipping out without her realizing. “God, I missed you,” she breathed.

Paige stilled for just a moment, letting Azzi’s words wash over her before continuing, her kisses growing more intense. “I missed you too,” she finally whispered against Azzi’s skin, her voice low and sincere.

She trailed her lips over Azzi’s neck and down to her chest savoring every moment. As Paige moved, she slid her knee carefully between Azzi’s legs, applying the lightest pressure. Still, she made sure to pause, never moving further without Azzi’s explicit permission.

Azzi’s reactions were everything as Paige continued—her breaths hitching, her body shifting beneath Paige’s as her voice filled the room. She wasn’t quiet about how Paige made her feel, her soft murmurs of “so good” and the way she whispered Paige’s name fueling Paige’s every move.

Eventually, Azzi’s tone shifted, her voice taking on a pleading edge as she breathed out, “Paige…” It wasn’t just a name—it was a request, a need, a call that Paige couldn’t ignore.

Paige kissed her way back up Azzi’s neck, her lips brushing over every sensitive spot she knew by heart before finally meeting Azzi’s mouth again in a brief, passionate kiss. When she pulled back, Paige didn’t say anything at first, just stared down at Azzi, taking her in.

Azzi’s eyes were half-lidded, her pupils blown, her gaze soft and hazy as she looked up at Paige. The sight made something inside Paige swell with affection, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Azzi took a deep inhale at the sight of Paige’s warm smile, and her hands slid up to cup Paige’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she murmured, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Paige just shook her head slightly, leaning into Azzi’s touch. “Because you’re so perfect,” she whispered, her voice thick, before leaning down to kiss her again.

Azzi’s voice was soft but laced with need as she muttered out a breathy, “I need to feel you.”

Paige’s heart skipped at the words, and she nodded, her lips curving into a tender smile. Without breaking eye contact, she let her hand trail down, her movements deliberate and filled with care. The moment her fingers landed exactly where Azzi needed her, Azzi’s head tipped back slightly, her lips parting as a soft sigh escaped her, her eyes rolling back briefly before fluttering closed.

When Azzi gathered herself enough to open her eyes again, she pulled Paige closer, her arms wrapping tightly around Paige’s neck as her lips brushed against Paige’s ear. Her voice was a mix of raw emotion and pleasure as she whispered, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

The intensity of her words wasn’t lost on Paige. The “fuck” was an honest reaction to the sensation coursing through her, but the “I love you” carried the weight of something far deeper—a love that had grown and solidified between them over time. Paige stilled for just a moment, her chest tightening with an overwhelming mix of emotions, before she leaned down to kiss Azzi softly, murmuring against her lips, “I love you too. Always.”

As Paige whispered her love for Azzi, her soft touch never faltered, her movements gentle as she moved in and out curling her fingers with intention as she did so. Their lips met again in a slow, lingering kiss, their gazes locking whenever they pulled back for air. The intensity between them was palpable, yet it was laced with tenderness, a quiet understanding of the depth they shared.

Azzi, completely lost in the moment, clung to Paige as soft gasps and whispered praises fell from her lips. “God, baby…you feel so good,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I missed you so much.”

Paige smiled against Azzi’s lips, her own heart racing at Azzi’s words. She kissed her again, trailing her lips down to Azzi’s neck and back, each touch meant to remind Azzi of how deeply she was cherished.

Amidst the overwhelming way she was feeling, Azzi’s gaze found Paige’s once more, and she froze for a moment. The way Paige looked down at her—so full of admiration, care, and unshakable love—made her chest feeling like it was about to explode. Her breathing hitched, and she struggled trying to make words escape her lips.

“Be my…” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking as her body reacted to Paige’s touch. “Fuck..fuck, Paige…be my girlfriend please.”

Paige stilled, her own breath catching at the words. She leaned in, resting her forehead against Azzi’s, their lips just a breath apart as she whispered back, her voice soft but full of certainty, “I thought this already meant I was.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, the sound filled with relief and joy. “You are,” she murmured, pulling Paige into another kiss, her hands tangling in her hair as they melted further into one another, the moment now carrying the weight of something undeniably permanent.

As Paige shifted her focus, her movements became quicker, and Azzi’s soft sighs turned into something louder, something more unrestrained. The music played in the background, but it did little to mask the words spilling from Azzi’s lips—fragments of need and pleasure slipping through her control.

“I forgot how good you feel,” Azzi murmured breathily, her voice trembling with emotion and sensation. “You fuck me so good Paige…yes…right there, baby.”

Paige’s lips curved into a smile as she focused her attention, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s face, wanting to watch every reaction. Azzi’s body arched into her touch, her words becoming incoherent until all that remained were gasps, broken and heavy, echoing in the small room.

Paige leaned down, brushing her lips over Azzi’s ear and whispering, “You’re so beautiful like this.” The soft praise drew a shiver from Azzi, who clung to Paige with everything she had, completely lost in the way Paige was making her feel.

Knowing how much her words always affected Azzi, Paige didn’t stop. She kept her voice low, soothing yet making it clear she was in control, knowing exactly how to unravel the girl under her. “You’re doing so good for me Az,” Paige murmured, kissing the edge of Azzi’s jaw. “Taking it so well, baby. You sound so pretty… feel even better.”

Azzi’s breaths grew uneven, her body trembling beneath Paige’s as the words sank into her. Every whispered praise seemed to fuel the fire coursing through her, her chest heaving as her nails dug into Paige’s back.

“Paige baby…” Azzi gasped, her voice breaking as she arched into her. Paige smirked softly against Azzi’s skin, loving the way Azzi felt underneath her, feeling her body shake from the way she was making her feel.

When Paige shifted her pace just slightly, a cry tore from Azzi’s throat, her hands clutching Paige tighter. “Oh my God—fuck Paige!” she all but screamed, her voice echoing over the music in the background.

The sound of her name, so desperate and raw, only spurred Paige on, her lips finding Azzi’s again to swallow her gasps as she spilled onto Paige’s hand. Azzi’s nails raked down Paige’s back, leaving trails of heat in their wake, her entire body trembling as she clung to the blonde, utterly consumed by the moment.

…

A couple of hours later, they were still tangled in each other, their bodies glistening, hair a mess, and faint marks scattered over their skin. Azzi was straddling Paige as she rolled her hips against the strap between them, her hands threading through blonde hair as their lips moved in sync, the room filled with the quiet sounds.

The moment was interrupted by a loud banging on Azzi’s door. Without missing a beat, both of them yelled simultaneously, “Go away!”

From the other side, Ines’s muffled voice broke through. “Azzi, I’m sleepy!”

Paige groaned internally but didn’t pause, immediately realizing they sent Ines on purpose, knowing Azzi had a soft spot for her and would struggle to ignore her. Paige didn’t say anything, though, pushing her hips deeper into Azzi, making the brunette gasp softly. “Ignore her,” Paige murmured against Azzi’s lips, her voice low and persuasive as she moved again, drawing a quiet, shaky breath from Azzi.

For a moment, it worked. Azzi threw her head back, her chest rising and falling as she bit her lip, trying to stifle the sounds Paige was coaxing from her. But then Inez groaned loudly, knocking again with more urgency. “Azzziii!”

Azzi let out a reluctant laugh, her voice breathless as she called out, “Okay, Nes, I’m sorry!”

The faint sound of Inez’s footsteps retreating down the hall signaled she was finally gone.

Paige’s movements never stopped, only slowed to quiet the sounds, her hands on Azzi’s ass lifting her before bringing her back down as Azzi quieted herself. Azzi leaned forward, capturing Paige’s lips in a soft kiss, her hips moving more deliberately now, drawing them back into their rhythm.

Breaking the kiss, Azzi whispered breathlessly, “Help me finish, so we can be done, baby.”

Paige nodded, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she murmured, “I got you.” Her hand moved in between them, her thumb circling softly, encouraging Azzi to keep moving. Paige met every roll of Azzi’s hips with her own, their rhythm building as the tension between them grew again.

Azzi clenched her jaw, trying to stay quiet, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. But as the feeling overwhelmed her, she bit down gently on Paige’s shoulder, her fingers scraping along Paige’s back as her body trembled with release. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she slumped forward against Paige, now completely spent.

Paige held her gently, kissing the top of Azzi’s head as she whispered, “You’re so amazing.” She slowly eased out of Azzi as she laid her on the bed, her movements tender, careful not to jostle her too much. Standing, Paige grabbed a towel, her gaze lingering on Azzi, whose body was still glowing in the aftermath.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open just enough to find Paige. She offered a small, satisfied smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “You spoil me.”

Paige grinned softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Of course.”

Once Paige cleaned up, she returned to the bed, slipping under the covers immediately pulling Azzi into her arms. Azzi shifted closer, tangling their legs together as her fingers found their way to Paige’s hair, gently detangling it in slow, soothing strokes.

They talked quietly in the dim light, their voices soft. Azzi let out a small laugh, wincing slightly. “I’m already sore,” she murmured, her tone playful despite the complaint.

Paige chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple. “M’sorry, baby,” she whispered, her voice warm.

Azzi laughed again, shaking her head as she replied, “No, you’re not.”

A grin spread across Paige’s face as she kissed Azzi’s forehead, her hold on her tightening. They continued their quiet conversation, voices dropping lower with each passing moment as sleep began to tug at them.

Tangled in one another, Paige’s voice softened to a murmur. “I love you, Az,” she said, her words carrying the weight of her heart.

Azzi’s fingers paused in Paige’s hair as she whispered back, “I love you more, pretty.” Her voice was thick with sincerity, both of their words lingering in the air as they drifted off, their breaths falling in sync.

…

When Azzi stirred awake the next morning, she let out a low groan, stretching her arms over her head as her body protested from the night before. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she frowned, her hand brushing the empty side of the bed. Paige never got up early—it wasn’t her thing.

She sat up, glancing around and noticing her door slightly ajar. Confused but curious, she pulled on a shirt and a pair of sweats, padding out into the living room. Where she saw Paige, half-asleep and slouched on the couch with her laptop balanced precariously on her legs. Azzi chuckled softly at the sight.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

Paige blinked up at her, a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “I told Geno I’d send him film notes for the next team we’re playing,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn.

Azzi’s gaze softened, her heart swelling at Paige’s dedication. She walked over, shaking her head with an amused smile. “It’s too early for this,” she said, gently closing the laptop on Paige’s lap and setting it on the table. “You look exhausted.”

Paige opened her mouth to protest, but Azzi didn’t give her the chance. She sat down on the couch, tugging Paige toward her. Paige allowed herself to be guided, sighing as Azzi pulled her close, positioning them so they were lying back slightly, with Paige resting her head on Azzi’s chest as Azzi rested her head on the back of the couch.

“You need sleep more than Geno needs those notes right now. You can do them later,” Azzi teased, her fingers automatically threading through Paige’s hair.

“Mmm, probably,” Paige murmured, her voice muffled against Azzi’s chest as her body relaxed entirely in Azzi’s embrace.

The two of them laid there in a peaceful silence, Azzi’s fingers gently threading through Paige’s hair as Paige let her eyes fall shut. Slowly, the steady rhythm of Azzi’s heartbeat lulled her back to sleep, her body fully relaxed.

Azzi glanced down after a while, realizing Paige had drifted off. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned down to press a tender kiss to the top of Paige’s head. Watching her sleep like this, so vulnerable and utterly at ease, tugged at Azzi’s heartstrings.

It reminded her of something Paige had said a while ago, before they had things figured out—they were sprawled out in Azzi’s room, homework abandoned on the desk because Azzi had insisted on cuddling instead. Paige had eventually relented but only on one condition: she got to lay on Azzi’s chest.

Azzi had teased her about it at the time, but she remembered how Paige started to ramble, her voice soft as her thoughts spilled out randomly.

“Laying on somebody’s chest is probably one of the most intimate things,” Paige had mused, her cheek resting against Azzi’s chest.

“Oh really?” Azzi had replied, laughing lightly, not expecting the seriousness in Paige’s response.

“Yeah,” Paige had hummed, her voice tinged with thoughtfulness. “You’re just lying there, probably with somebody you like a lot, and the way their heartbeat sounds calms you down, relaxes you completely in a way that’s probably not usual. It feels so... exposed, I guess. You're so close you can hear the one thing keeping the person you love alive. I don’t know, it just seems kinda crazy.”

Azzi’s heart had stuttered in her chest then, and Paige had immediately noticed, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she pointed it out. Azzi had turned red, hastily shoving Paige off her chest with a grumbled “You’re so annoying,” though her cheeks burned for the rest of the day.

Now, as Azzi looked down at this version of Paige—the one she loved so deeply, who was no longer just her best friend but her girlfriend—a grin spread across her face. This was the same girl who had turned her world upside down with her rambles, her teasing, her tender way of seeing the world.

Gently, Azzi tightened her arms around Paige, holding her closer, her grin softening. She pressed another kiss to Paige’s temple, letting herself savor this quiet moment, this piece of intimacy Paige had described so perfectly. It really was crazy, Azzi thought. But it was also perfect.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.

Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕

ENSNARED

This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3

TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.

You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels

To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.

He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.

You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.

You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.

On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.

You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)

He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.

In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.

You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead). 

What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay). 

Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.

So you guys agree to pull each other out together.

Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.

When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.

You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…

Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.

Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.

“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”

“I love all of you, always have, always will.”

Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).

He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.

He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.

Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.

After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.

You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.

He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. 

He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.

During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.

Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.

He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.

Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.

Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.

It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.

Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.

You, on the other hand, are shooketh.

Con? Fuzzled.

Bam? Boozled.

Flabber? Gasted.

Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.

Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.

You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.

Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.

He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.

“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”

“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)

“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*

To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.

He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do. 

He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.

He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.

He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.

He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.

He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.

He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.

Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.

In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.

In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.

Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.

That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.

And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.

Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.

Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.

Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.

Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.

He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.

Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.

“You look nice. This suits you.”

“You’ve eaten, I hope?”

“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”

Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine. 

She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?

Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it. 

Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.

She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.

You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.

Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received. 

Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.

Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?

Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.

When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.

You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.

She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.

It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.

She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.

You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.

“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”

“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣

“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”

[bogleech]

I never thought about that, but I never found jigsaw puzzles enjoyable to do either! I might like the image being sold as the puzzle, but then I'd rather have it in higher resolution without all the jigsaw cuts.

Maybe it's also that I don't get a sense of challenge from it. I draw just how I want to draw and need to draw to be satisfied enough. It gets steadily better on its own just from understanding and remembering new things to do but it otherwise feels kind of like waiting in line at the DMV. It's the hurdle of a bunch of time that must be sacrificed for the drawing to happen.

This is why I always want a movie or series on while doing it. Anything to feel like I'm using the time for more than just sitting around waiting for my body to make the picture.

This post broke containment so some responses have no idea what I draw. I draw almost strictly creatures I come up with when it's not scenes for a webcomic I post.

Maybe it also sheds some light into this topic that I don't draw anything to just be a picture. I only draw things to be used in stories or games, things with a long term role attached to a narrative. These are all for my tabletop RPG setting which has over 800 monsters so far, and I love every single one but that includes thousands more that I've not yet had the time to draw. I come up with another handful of them every day without really meaning to. It's like an intrusive thought almost? And I want them all to become fully polished usable illustrations but I'm only one person.

I do enjoy the process of sketching the initial ideas, but that might be because each finished creature sketch takes me only seconds, so there isn't a sense of waiting and waiting and waiting for eternity for them to be done. Like in 6 hours I can make just one of those fully colored ones, or I can fill up an entire notebook with ballpoint pen or pencil ideas.

This is also why I cannot understand why anyone would want to use a design they got from an AI prompt. The only point of a concept is that you thought of it and that you even decided where every little wrinkle and hair and pants pocket was going to go. If an automated digital randomizer did that for you then it's not your imagination being realized :( Even when I could only draw 5% as "well" as I think I do now (and it's still not a great style by most standards) I was already willing to "wait at the DMV" for each one.

Lots of artists lately talking about burnout and how they no longer find the process fun and enjoyable.

And I'm over here like........you guys EVER found that enjoyable?? Was I supposed to???

It is not fun to do the work itself. It's never crossed my mind that it could be. Having something finished is great and I can't stop making things but the process required to have made something is just arduous tedious labor. you do it for the result alone, not the hours of sitting still staring at the same surface.

It must be awesome to ever be capable of enjoying a form of "work" 😕

[roseyodditea]

Sneak a Quick Kiss - Harumasa x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1.6k words. Established relationship. 2 moments where Harumasa remembers you have to hide your relationship, and 1 when he decides he's had enough.

Warnings -> A 'lil suggestive in the middle (marked and optional)

A/N -> I'll be honest, I didn't expect to like writing as much as I do and I've been getting more support than I ever thought I would. Thank you :)

Image taken from ZZZ Wiki

— Close Call #1 —

You looked out of the window into the H.A.N.D Headquarters Plaza, watching people walk leisurely. You were in an empty meeting room, one of the many shoved in a forgotten corner of the large office building. This meeting room was often forgotten about, which just made it perfect for your purpose. The purpose that Asaba Harumasa was currently late to. You sat down on one of the chairs, spreading the folder of paperwork, figuring you might as well do work instead of letting the folder be just a quick excuse to anyone curious of the meeting between you and Harumasa. 

You were analyzing a document heavy with black bars of redaction, holding up the paper to the light to read the name of the hollow that was hidden under the dark ink, Melinoe. You bite back a small giggle, realizing that Harumasa definitely shouldn’t have told you about it on your last secret date night. You continue on your data analysis work, still waiting for the very late man. You two had started this little routine over a month ago, a weekly (sometimes happening even two to four times a week) recurring meeting disguised as a debriefing of Section 6’s hollow data. The meeting's true purpose was known to no one, and you hoped to keep it that way.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door closing, familiar arms draping over your shoulder, quick playful kisses being pepper across your cheeks. “Hey, darling~” Harumasa placed one more exaggerated kiss on your cheek before hiding his face in your hair. 

“You’re late.” You chide lightly, leaning back in the chair.

Harumasa huffed and let go of you, moving to instead sit on the table in the room, shoving aside some of the work you were doing. “Yanagi caused a meeting to run late despite both me and Miyabi wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.”

You stood up, moving to stand in front of him, a familiar hug playing out as you leaned your head on his shoulder, his arms resting securely on your lower back. “You’re still late. You’ll pay for that.”

“Will I now?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his hands sliding down your sides before he hoists you up on the table with him, your thighs straddling his lap. “What’s your price?”

“You have to host a dinner and movie night at your place, meaning you have to clean your apartment.” You giggle, leaning in a bit.

“Highway robbery, absolutely unfair price, what has the world come to?” He mutters back playfully before sealing your lips in a kiss. It was slow and patient, one of his hands cupping your cheek sweetly, the other on your lower back, keeping you close in his safe grasp. 

The sound of footsteps causes the kiss to break unceremoniously, you crawling off his lap immediately, moving quickly to sit in front of the papers you had set out, Harumasa scrambling to snatch up one of the papers to look busy as the door swung open, a janitor looking up surprised to see people in this forgotten about meeting room. 

“Oh sorry, are we in the way?”

— Close Call #2 —

(A/N) -> Make out scene contained betwixt the asterisks, feel free to skip if that's not your thing. Mwah mwah kissing, you get it.

***********************

Adrenaline pumped through Harumasa’s veins after a successful investigation in Melinoe, another large target successfully taken down. In this hyped up state, a lot of Harumasa’s rational thoughts when it came to you flew right out of the window, which was why you were currently pushed up against the wall of the parking garage outside of the H.A.N.D headquarters. You didn’t even care that the rough bricks of the wall were clinging to your clothes and your hair, how could you care when there were feverish touches and kisses being scattered across your body. 

Half gloved hands sliding up under the bottom of your shirt, tracing over your skin, desperately lips begging for more, wanting to celebrate this win with you. You haphazardly shoved off his bow and quiver, the sound of them clattering to the pavement beneath your feet not even reaching your ears, one of your hands moving to his tie, pulling and trying to loosen it in the heat of a moment. Harumasa didn't even care his beloved weapon was on the ground, instead moving to press his body even close, one his thighs moving between yours, wanting to be impossibly closer.

***********************

The sound of an “Enh-na!” caused the two of you to pull away from each other harshly with a pant, Harumasa looking down at the source of the sound. 

Agent Gulliver stared blankly, just holding up paperwork to you, the data analyst. His round eyes were unblinking, seemingly unaware of the situation he had just stumbled into. You and Harumasa were quiet for a few seconds before you reached out. “Uh… thank you, Agent Gulliver.” The bangboo saluted as you took it and walked off. 

Harumasa blinked a couple times. “He… He won’t tell anyone, right? Bangboo’s don’t gossip, do they?” You sighed, straightening up his tie before pushing him a bit off of you. “I’ll go pull his memory card. It’s standard for my reports. I’ll just… crop the video.” “Yeah thanks.” Harumasa scratched the back of his head. “We’ve got to be more careful.”

— Close Call #3 —

— Secret is Out —

You had told Harumasa not to push himself too hard, and what does he do? Run head first into battle without calling for backup, of course. He had it handled, but he was paying the consequences today, and of course you were sweet enough to give him company while he was holed up, miserable in his apartment. You swiped through the files on the tablet, a sleeping Harumasa laying in the bed next to you, his arm draped over your lap, holding you securely even in his sleep. An alarm buzzed and without looking up from the tablet, you shook Harumasa awake.

“Huh?” The tired man sat up, wiping the drool off of the corner of his mouth, smiling a bit when he saw you were in his bed.

“Second dose of medicine.” You replied without looking up, handing him one of the bottles. He opened it and placed one of the pills in his mouth, reaching across you to take your water and taking a couple big gulps. “Rude.” You scoff, finally looking up from your tablet.

He placed the cup back on the nightstand before grabbing the tablet, taking it from you and also placing it on the nightstand. “Your poor, sick boyfriend is suffering cold and alone in bed and you’re more focused on work?” He pouts as he pulls you to lay down with him, rather than sitting up.

“You’re only sick because you knowingly pushed your limits!” Your words had no real bite as you did, in fact, lay down with him.

“Your words wound me.” Harumasa cuddles close to you, his wheezing breath right next to your ear, but you didn’t mind, especially with the way one of his hands played with the hair at the base of your neck. “You know you don’t have to be here, right?” You let out a noise, not wanting to repeat this conversation yet again. “I love you, I want to be here, I’m not going anywhere.” You list quickly, and Harumasa didn't argue back, kissing your forehead. “I love you, too.” He whispered softly, his voice slightly hoarse. “And I love that you’re here.” The tender moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Oooh that’s probably our takeout.” You reluctantly get up out of his bed with a promise that you’d be right back. You opened the door holding the tip money, only to come face to face with quite possibly the worst person to see right now. “Yanagi?” You were going to ask something else, but your brain chugged when faced with this rather awkward situation.

“(y/n)?” Yanagi was honestly just as confused. “I didn’t know you and Harumasa were close.” Your silence was bordering on suspicious when you let out a polite, professional chuckle, very thankful you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet and could still kind of pass this off as work. “I work very closely with Harumasa for my reports. A lot of the hollow data can be weird to work out so I often talk to him since he’s a really good scout. I just stopped by to grab some paperwork for him and I ended up helping him with a few things since he’s not feeling well today.” You lie through your teeth, but luckily Yanagi didn’t really seem to question it… or if she did she certainly didn’t let it be known.

“Ah, well I just wanted to drop off another set of folders for him to review. Soukaku tried to do his paperwork for him and I tried to read his handwriting through the scribbles and I wanted to double check it was accurate before I handed it in to you.” Yanagi offered politely.  

Harumasa, who you didn’t realize got out of bed, stood next to you, looking between you and Yanagi. He was tired, in pain, and frankly tired of hiding this relationship. It was his idea originally to keep the fans at bay, keep him out of hot water with the press, and make sure there wasn’t anything to report to HR, but seeing you try to cover up comforting your sick boyfriend with work? Absolutely not. He wrapped his arms around you from behind before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, your body freezing as Harumasa looked at Yanagi from his hiding spot in your neck.

“Sorry, I’m off today!” He closed the door before dragging you back to bed with him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

psssst I do, in fact, take requests. Okay thank you for reading <3

[darlinluxx]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 ౨ৎ

pairing : kang sae byeok x fem!reader

warnings : nsfw

warnings for sfw : tiniest mention of sickness

warnings for nsfw : dom!saebyeok, sub!reader, tiny mention of knife play, degradation, strap

a/n : just thought i’d start off with some headcannons <3 if you have requests, feel free to message me <3

- Saebyeok probably wouldn’t be the first one to say “i love you”

- when she did say those three words, she would feel relieved. after all, she has been holding it in since she laid eyes on you

- and she doesn’t say it much, instead, she shows her love through different ways

- like remembering the smallest details — like how you take your coffee (or if you don’t like coffee), which side of the bed you prefer, or your favorite movies

- she has a habit of “borrowing” things of yours and never returning them

- she absolutely loves seeing you in her clothes

- the first time Saebyeok fell asleep on the couch with your head on her chest, it’s a bigger milestone than your first kiss

- Saebyeok struggles with accepting help or care when she’s sick. she’s used to acting like she’s fine. the first time she calls you because she has a fever is a huge moment of trust

- gives you a spare key for her apartment

- she’s not big on pet names, but i think from time to time she would call you, “darling,” “baby,” or “princess”

- always saying things like “i missed you,” “did you eat?” or “are you warm enough?”

- she expresses worry more through actions since she’s not the most comfortable with saying things. she’ll fix the bow on the back of your hair when you’re walking ahead of her

- when she’s upset, she goes quiet rather than angry

- Saebyeok’s love language is 100% quality time

- i think we can call come to an agreement that she’s not a fan of pda

- she will hold hands with you while walking though

- in private, she would like physical contact though. she’s always finding small ways to touch you

- loves to give you hugs — her arms wrapped around you as she holds you in her embrace, resting her chin on your head as she murmurs sweet words to you

- her favorite form of physical affection is playing with your hair while you lay on her chest as you two watch movies

- we can also all come to an agreement that this woman is PROTECTIVE !!

- is always near you out in public like a personal bodyguard

- carries her pocket knife everywhere

- while walking together, Saebyeok always positions herself on the street side of the sidewalk

- and what if i said she memorizes your schedule (without meaning to) just to know you’re safe ??

- the first time you meet Cheol, she’s more nervous than either of you

- Saebyeok doesn’t even realize that she leaves things at your apartment

- the first time she calls your apartment “home,” she doesn’t even notice—it feels natural

- she has a specific spot on the couch in your living room that becomes “her spot”

- Saebyeok is always the first to wake up. she’ll make coffee for herself and attempt to make toast but burns it. so once you wake up you’ll have to help her with cooking

- she keeps track of important dates, she never needs a reminder for your anniversary or your birthday

- she’s surprisingly good at domestic tasks. years of self-reliance made her practical

- she stress cleans when anxious. you can tell when something’s bothering her

- she loves late night talks. whether it be sharing goals in life or random thoughts, she’ll always enjoy it

- Saebyeok’s protective but not possessive, having learned the difference between love and control

- has trouble accepting gifts but puts incredible thought into giving them. no matter how many people she has to pickpocket, she will get you something she knows you’ve been wanting for a long time

- never makes promises she’s not absolutely certain she can keep

- she always keeps her promises

- Saebyeok keeps a journal of things that make you smile (she won’t ever admit it)

- is secretly good at video games but pretends to be bad so you can “teach” her

- loves sharing airpods with you when you two are on the subway or walking

- has a (secret) playlist of songs that remind her of you

nsfw ౨ৎ

- she’s a top / dom !!! anyone who says different is a liar

- okay and what if i said she’s lowkey into knife play ?? then what

- Saebyeok really focuses on making you feel good. gets satisfaction on seeing you cum

- she’s usually more on the rougher side, but if you want her to be gentle, she will be no questions asked

- “don’t get all shy now. it’s just me.” when you’re getting shy or nervous with her

- mix of praise and degradation !! “you’re so dirty for me.” “you look so pretty cumming on my fingers.”

- could eat you out for the rest of her life

- loves when you wear dresses or skirts cause it gives her the opportunity to slide her hand closer and closer to where you need her. and she knows. but she can’t resist teasing you

- loves fucking you with a strap just because ?? especially in front of a mirror

- sweetest aftercare, so so gentle with you. as if you’re made out of glass

[filiazpink]

HEYYYY IM THE GIRL FROM THE COMMENT SECTION OF YOUR ORION AND D-16 AND THEIR SUPERIOR FIC!!! i just wanted to let you know it was adorable and that if it’s alright with you i would love to see a part two! 💕💕💕

🩷"INFATUATED"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 - part 2

warnings: MAJOR transformers one spoilers, sentinel prime likes the reader too HELP, my cutie patootie oc being mentioned once, darkwing being darkwing electric boogaloo

summary: takes place during the iacon 5000, and a bit of the aftermath that follows. orion's crush is still very obvious and d-16 is warming up to you.

a/n: SO MANY NOTES ON PART 1?? TYSM EVERYONE 💗💗💗💗 and also a round of applause to this lovely requester here sending the ask that motivated me to make a part 2 :3 sorry it took so long i was busy with art commissions and writing my dark deception fic :( hopefully this will live up to the expectations of the 30 ppl that sent me in inbox to make a part 2 !! if you guys want a part 3 with even more stuff, lemme know in the inbox! it would be kinda fun to make a mini series with this idea for the whole movie !! ENJOY !!!

word count: 1740

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

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somehow, you managed to gain one of the best spots in iacon to watch the race take place.

well, it was easy to know why.

sentinel prime himself considered you as one of ‘his closest friend’, so he reserved a special seat just for you: right next to him.

best seat in the house.

it was a very overwhelming experience overall, with cameras all pointed towards you and THE sentinel prime, the fact that you were simply next to the savior of iacon, the slight confusion you had for what you and sentinel were. i mean, you only spoke to him professionally, and those were rare occasions. surely, he met thousands of new bots everyday, yet he remembered you of all bots. 

but all of that couldn’t compare to the dread that took over your entire body as soon as you heard sentinel utter the following:

“i’m sorry- are those miners in the race?” the two of you turned around to the giant screen to see that, indeed, there were cogless bots participating in the race.

and not just any cogless bots, bots from your sector!

and not just bots from your sector, it was those two charming bots orion pax and d-16!

your optics widened at the revelation, on the point of transforming to go and stop them before they get damaged beyond repair but sentinel held you back.

“hey- hey, what are you doing??” he mumbled, looking back at the cameras every few seconds to make sure they weren’t focused on him.

“those are workers from my sector!! i-i know them, i have to sto-”

“come on, (y/n), relax! they’ll be fine! besides, think of the inspirational boost it’ll give the other miners if they do win. they’ll be delighted.” he tried coaxing you into relaxing, going so far as to gently rub your shoulder in an attempt at comforting you but you had none of it.

“this is a first in iacon 5000 history!”

“oh primus, please, please, please keep them alive!,,,”

“how are they going to survive?”

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eventually, the cameras couldn’t pick up feed on the tunnel that the majority of the racers, including orion and d-16, were in. the thought of finding them crushed or in worse condition sickened you. with a trembling hand, you quickly gripped onto sentinel’s, who couldn’t help but look smug at your reaction.

“they’ll be okay,,, right?!” you asked him and the prime sighed.

“don’t worry. if they end up hurt, we’ll just send them to medbay-”

“i don’t believe it! the miners take down darkwing!”

the crowd went wild at the display, somehow getting louder than it already was. the femme and the prime watched in astonishment as the miners went from last place to third place in such a short amount of time. 

well, now you knew that darkwing was going to complain about that to you for the rest of the work cycle.

you let go of the blue and golden bot’s hand (much to his very visible disappointment) to place it over your mouth. your optics shined in absolute amazement, watching the main screen showing orion and d-16 looking more and more hopeful. 

“OHH, MINERS!” darkwing literally roared at them, his fists clenching in total anger. 

“great effort, darkwing!” orion attempted to cheer on darkwing for his efforts, but deep down, he knew once this was over, he and his companion were royally fucked.

“t-that worked! it actually worked! you think (y/n) saw all that?!” d-16 beamed, getting more and more excited at the thought of you watching them- watching him win the race.

“i’m sure she’s watching! she’ll be so proud of us!”

after passing the magnetic obstacle course tunnel (much to your relief, poor bots would have been crushed beyond repair), you felt like your body couldn’t handle all the amount of excitement, especially with the announcer going:

“a four-bot pile-up in the magnetic tunnel and the two miners are now in first position! this is UNBELIEVABLE!”

the speechless prime turned around, facing the finish line, pulling you alongside to observe. 

from the corner of his optic, he watched your reactions with envy. you never reacted that way whenever he showed up to your office unprompted.

were those two cog-less bots really that important when he’s here?

however, his train of thoughts was interrupted as a shattered piece from a nearly crushed racer hit d-16 from behind, making the grey bot trip and fracture his leg. you gasped at the outcome, praying they were still close enough to make it.

orion reached for d-16, pulling him up and slinging him onto his back, slowly making his way to the finish line. 

everyone was losing it, including sentinel, who was on the edge of his seat. will they make it in time? 

even the announcer seemed to be overly excited!

orion quickly looked up to your radiant face, feeling another rush of energy flow through him simply by seeing your wonderstruck expression. by the allspark, you looked glorious with all the different lights shining onto your armour.

“one miner is now carrying the other, mere steps from the finish line in the most amazing, sensational, dramatic, heart-rending, exciting, thrilling finish in the history of-”

and all of a sudden, all of it was cut short as a white and cyan mech ran into the smaller bots, knocking them back down. the mech transformers and slid across the finish line, throwing her fists in the air.

“WE HAVE A WINNERRR!! CHROMIA COMES FROM BEHIND TO TAKE THE PRIZE! talk about an iacon 5000 for the ages!”

your excitement died down. sure, you were happy for chromia, she won fair and square, but,,,

you sighed as you watched every other surviving racer fly past the two miners, still trying to see the small mechs as sentinel let out a chuckle, dragging you away with him to congratulate the winner.

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“mmh, they should be right here, miss.”

“thank you, mekastat.”

the pale red and pink bot nodded at you with a courteous smile, walking away from the medbay you were informed that orion and d-16 were in. you let out a long sigh, clearing your throat and before you could knock at the door, you managed to overhear the ongoing conversation.

“we are SO screwed!” you could distinguish d-16’s frustrated voice through the commotion, followed by orion’s more gentle tone:

“i thought you weren’t talking to me,,,”

“hey, look, i know it's all a big joke to you, but not me! i was paying my dues. i was going places and now they're going to bust me down- i don't even know how many tiers-”

“d, i’m sorry-”

“A-AND NOT JUST THAT! SHE SAW IT ALL HAPPEN! SHE,,, she saw everything.” she? no, that doesn’t matter. your curiosity will be your downfall.

with a quick knock, their conversation was cut short as you quietly walked in. orion immediately sat up straight, his optics wide open. a blush (that you assumed was out of embarrassment) decorated his face. d-16, however, didn’t even look you in the eye, his head hunched over in shame.

“hi.”

they waited for any form of reprimand from you, but since you simply stared back at them as to wait for them to speak, orion decided to be the first to break the ice.

“,,, i’m so sorry, (y/n), i was the one to s-suggest the idea of us participating. demote me but not d-16, i practically dragged him along into this.” d-16 turned his head just a little bit at his friend, the tension in his yellow optics leaving just a tad bit.

you thought for a while, looking away and missed the way that even in such a situation where you were supposed to, yes, reprimand them, orion looked up at you like you hung the moon and the stars combined. even in the poor lighting the room had, your armour still shined in a hypnotizing way. at least, in orion’s eyes.

“i should punish you for breaking protocol like this.”

“we know,,,” “but.” you got down on your knees, still towering over the miners, and with a small and gracious smile, you said: “i won’t. besides, even if you lost, that was still the coolest thing i’ve ever seen.”

hearing that made d-16’s helm rise back up to stare at you with a bewildered expression, matching his friend. 

“really??”

you then let out a small giggle and gave them a bigger smile, which totally didn’t make the two smaller bots swoon. “it was amazing! you were both so fast, and you managed to take down darkwing?? he’s never going to hear the end of it! do you know how long he’s been training for this day and he was beaten by you two, who never trained for this type of action?!”

they’ve never seen you this excited, just the sight made up for the fact that they had lost and possibly humiliated themselves to millions of cybertronians. 

“if anything, if sentinel doesn’t end up giving you guys a prize for making it this far, i’d think he’d be wasting an opportunity to celebrate true racers!” 

“oh- wait! sentinel! what’s he going to do with us??” asked d-16, nearly getting up from the table, stress once more filling his processors. 

your excitement died down at the mention of his name. oh, right. him.

“um, i could try to convince him to not do anything drastic! he considers me a friend of his, apparently.”

“that won’t be necessary.” another femme’s voice droned out, one that you immediately recognized. 

“i’ll take it from here, (y/n). head back to your post.” airachnid ordered, stepping aside for you to leave. you turned your helm to the miners and waved goodbye, still watching them as you walked away until they were no longer in sight.

as you were about to leave the building, you bumped into darkwing, who despite not having visible facial features, you could tell with the way he was walking that he was still absolutely infuriated.

“darkwing,,,?” you asked and in response, he swiftly turned around, grabbed you by the shoulders and screamed:

“I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE A VERY BEAUTIFUL AND VALUED BOT IN MY LIFE.” and so he power walked into the hospital, leaving you utterly confused.

,,,

what.

wait why was he going in the hospital?

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🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[hotwings0203]

"I swear, if she had just stayed with the group like a normal person would, she would've saved herself at least 30 more minutes of screentime," your friend says on the other side of the couch.

In retaliation, you playfully chuck a few kernels of popcorn at him and gesture wildly at the screen. "It's the classic bimbo trope! She's wearing a miniskirt and high heels in the forest for gods sake, it practically screams 'Murder me!' on her clothes."

You both squabble for a few minutes like this until the sound of violins coming from the t.v. cues you in for the next foreboding jumpscare. Both sets of eyes turn back to the dimly lit screen and lock in on the gore-fest about to unfold.

The main heroine cautiously creaks a door open in front of a tunnel and warbles out, "H-hello? Is anyone there?"

It's so cliche you could roll your eyes, but yet your heart is still pumping...

And your "friend's" body shifting a mere few inches away from you isn't helping the palpitations.

The two of you had been dancing around each other the past few months in some sort of premature courting method, the flirty remarks and jeers from your mutual friends egging you both on to seal the deal and admit your feelings for one another.

But, like every young romance blooms, the fear of wilt is just as strong.

And so you opt to get as close as you can to the real thing by being satisfied with his arm not-so-subtly thrown over the back of the couch , so softly playing with the ends of your hair so as to not disturb you.

You can barely focus though, as the girl on the screen inches closer to the end of tunnel, the boy behind you also creeps his other idle hand towards yours resting on the cushion.

It takes an incredible amount of effort to keep your breathing even and hands still as you watch from the corner of your eye as his veiny hands trail closer...his fingers outstretching towards yours...and...

Rrrriiinnngggg!

It's like a tidal wave comes crashing down as the woman on screen screams in tandem with your phone ringing.

You feign a groan as you shoot the disappointed man on your couch an apologetic wince, and try not to let your heart fall as he nods back with a barely understanding grimace. You round the couch and let the movie continue playing as you hit the green button and pick up the intruding call.

"Hello?" You snipe.

"Get rid of him."

For the second time in the night, your heart falters, but the former experience is something you'd beg for rather than this.

"H-how did you know someone's at my house?" Your voice drops to a shaky whisper and you throw a panicked glance into the living room to ensure that your lover/friend hasn't picked up on your tone. You duck into your bedroom and close the door slightly, your hands trembling as you do so.

The gravely voice on the other end chuckles, but the sound has anything but mirth in it.

"That's a funny way to phrase it sweetheart. Your question makes it seem as though I stopped keeping tabs on you."

A minute-long silence ensues after that, your mouth gaping open and closed like a fish out of water. There's no sound except for the low hum in the background of your living room, and your caller's shallow breaths on the other end of the line.

"You begged so nicely last time for me to leave you alone, even made it to the cops at one point. I granted you a shred of mercy, a bit of pity after the cops failed to take your report seriously- I mean, I don't blame them. Their time is precious, y'know? They've got bigger things to worry about than a dumb little girl whining about some invisible stalker jizzing all over her and her room when she sleeps," he snickers meanly at the sound of your choked gasps.

The taunting of your trauma is a slap to the face, a wound cut open again. You thought you got rid of this anonymous stalker a couple months back, you thought a police report and growing reclusive from your social life would dissuade any unwanted interactions from this psycho. You felt backed into a corner, dirty and ashamed as the threatening calls became more frequent. Love letters with ominous fluids coating the expanse of the papers started showing up at your front door when you changed your number. He'd attach polaroids of you in your undergarments, when you'd shower, when you'd cook, and so many other unassuming intimate domestic scenes in the envelope, and then when you couldn't take the terror anymore...it stopped.

The calls, the letters, the pictures, all of it...poof.

You had slowly started to hope that he had gotten bored of you and the lack of social life, lack of thrill in general at you losing your color.

With that hope, came bravery. Your friends started coming around again, the parties ensued, you switched your college class from virtual to in-person again, you even met the guy nestled comfortably on your couch currently.

"How many bodies did you think you could hide behind?"

The voice on the other end of the phone croons softly, but pulls you just as violently out of your dread.

"What do you want?" comes your shaky whisper, your fingers gripping the phone tighter in sync with your throat closing up.

"Ohhh sweetheart, now that's a loaded question. You and I have all the time in the world to uncover that, but your boy toy on the other hand..." His teasing lilt twists lower into something akin to a growl, and you can't help the whimper that escapes you.

You don't want to find out what his threat alludes to, or how serious he is.

Slow-burn romance be damned.

"J-just give me a few minutes-"

"Now."

Your teeth sink into your lips to hold back a frantic curse as you duck your head out the doorway to check on the living room.

He's still there, unassumingly checking his phone.

"Okay, okay. I-I'll tell him something came up, just dont-"

Your voice catches in your throat and you force yourself to swallow, taking in a deep breath at the sound of your stalker's pleased hum on the other end of the line.

"I'm watching you. Don't try to pull anything smart with me, unless you're eager to taste my blade in addition to my cock."

You blanch as the call ends, and try to quickly blink away tears of frustration. Wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts, you inhale deeply again before turning the knob and opening the door to the living room.

Rounding the couch, you softly pad your way to your lover and force the tense muscles in your back and arms to loosen, not wanting to give any indication that something's very, very wrong.

"Heyyy, you're back!" He drawls with a loose smile on his face. "Thought the movie scared you too bad and you ran off."

You force yourself to let out a faux chuckle and try to prevent your smile from looking too strained. He seems to unfortunately notice it though, because a crinkle appears between his brows and he sits up, tossing the phone in his hands aside.

"Woah, you okay? Did something happen?"

"No, no! It's nothing like that at all. Actually, this is really embarrassing but one of my girls called and I think she's blackout drunk at the bar near downtown, I gotta head out and pick her up. I had no idea I'd be on babysitter duty tonight, I'm so sorry," You frantically wave his concern off and try for another carefree laugh, but your shaking hands are a dead giveaway.

He stands up and grasps your hands tightly in his, the large and smooth planes of his palms enveloping yours before you can react. Your head spins as the realization of him touching you for the first time under these less-than-ideal conditions overwhelms you.

"Hey, y/n, look at me-no, look- you're okay, alright? It's no big deal, we can always finish the movie another time, seriously."

And before you can move back to save him, he leans forwards and pecks your cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second the door closes shut, your phone rings.

Your hand, still on the door handle, drifts up to your lips as you nibble on your nails haphazardly.

You're terrified to know the consequences you elicited. You don't wanna pick up.

And yet, you know if you don't, he's capable of so much worse.

Your thumb slides on the green button when his voice breaks through the call with barely-concealed rage, the waver of fury coating his venom as he spits, "He touched you. He kissed you."

"I tried to back away! I tried to-"

"And I tried playing nice, but looks like we both failed each other, huh?"

The excuse dies in your throat as his hiss overpowers yours.

"I should carve his fucking lips out for touching whats mine," he continues after a beat, an incredulous and ragged laugh erupting from the other end of the call, making you wince.

"It would be so easy to get rid of him too. That shitty little apartment he scrimps and saves for at his 9-5 hasn't changed the locks in the complex for years now, he walks solely at night with his earbuds in, his bones would be so easy to break-"

"Please don't hurt him," you finally break his monologue with a sob of your own, unable to fathom being the reason why your lover would suffer such sinister endings. You throw your hand over your mouth to prevent him from hearing you cry and your legs give out from their mindless, panicked pacing around the house. The soft duvet comforters of your bed provide ample cushion for the fall, but not enough to swallow you whole and hide you from his inevitable wrath.

Your stalker pauses as he listens to your muffled cries, your skin prickling as he lets out a ragged moan at no doubt your misery. You can hear the sound of rustling clothes and a belt buckle hitting a floor of some sort.

"Are you scared pretty girl? Are you scared I'm gonna hurt you, or him?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"You should be."

The call drops, but you dont move for what seems like hours.

Your body feels like stone as you eventually burrow under your covers, mountains of stress weighing you down heavier than the blankets and pillows you use as meager protection. All the doors in your apartment are locked, the windows bolted shut, the knives taken out and placed under your bed, and your phone fully charged.

And yet, you might as well have been naked for the lack of protection you feel as the clock strikes past 1am. You jump every time the branches outside your windows smack the glass, and grip the edges of your covers tighter at the slightest creak from your aged abode.

You're curled in fetal position, tense and alert, ready to call 911 at a moments notice. You wont, you can't let him get to you, mentally or physically.

But eventually your body fails you as you drift off to sleep, the adrenaline high wearing off and lulling you into an exhausted state of rest.

You only awaken when you hear his voice.

"Hereeee kitty kitty"

Body locking up before your mind is fully aware, you freeze under the duvet as you see his silhouette from under the opaque material.

He's merely a few feet away from you, leering over your lumpy form.

Your eyes dart to where your door is, and you can make out the shape of it being opened.

How the ever-loving fuck did he get in?

You can't move, you cant blink, you cant even breathe as he inches closer to you, settling to perch by your feet.

He chuckles and snakes his lithe fingers from underneath your comforters, trailing up your feet up to your ankle, letting his offensive touch rest there as a faux show of affection.

"You're like a present underneath those blankets."

You let out a shaky whimper and tense up even more as he leans in, the dark shape of his head right over your face.

"Does the little slut want me to unwrap her? I think i've won my prize fair and square."

The hand on your ankle moves up to your calves, then your knees, all the while you start to squirm and wrestle against his hold.

He laughs lightly with sick glee as his hold on you tightens, allowing himself to indulge momentarily as one of his hands shoves itself between the apex of your covered thighs, the other squeezing and pinching up your torso to any part of you that he deems soft enough.

You both writhe like this for a minute or two while you fight for air underneath the increasingly-stuffy covers, and you know he's reveling at your losing battle.

Eventually he must get tired of playing with you, because you feel the bed dip and shift as he climbs on top and straddles you. As a last-ditch attempt to free yourself, you throw the blankets off, exposing yourself to him. You try to scramble away after dislodging him, but he's too fast. He grabs you by the neck and slams you down against the bed with a snarl, his hair mussed and disheveled as his hands encircle tighter around your throat. Adrenaline courses through you along with the blood pounding your head as you try to scratch at his face. The harder you fight, the tighter he squeezes, and through the black spots in your vision you can see his salacious grin, his hair falling over his face and barely concealing the victorious and manic look in his eyes.

You feel his skin pile up under your fingernails as you rake down a particularly soft side of his cheek, but instead of him drawing back, he fucking moans as blood blooms through the new cut.

He feels you hesitate for a split second in your awed disgust, and uses the momentary reprieve to rock his hips against your clothed mound.

You gasp feels like its ripped out of you all the while he shakes with tension and laughter.

He feels high off the mix of fear and disgust at your body reacting to his ministrations.

You thrash like a fish out of water in his hold, your desperation a sick contrast to the firm and controlled motion of his body eliciting responses out of you that you never wanted to give to him of all people.

"Fuuckkkk, thats it baby, just give in," he croons and shushes the sound of you choking. A shudder passes through him as he feels your throat constrict under his unrelenting hold, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he thrusts again into you.

He must hit a good spot, because he feels your legs twitch. To reward you for reacting to his touch, he lets up ever so slightly on your abused throat, and opts to duck his head down and replace his hands with his mouth.

The whole ordeal can't have been going on for more than a couple minutes, but it feels like your overstimulation has been lasting eons. You feel the adrenaline crashing down, your defenses rendered useless as he uses both his hands to envelope your own and lace his fingertips with yours, bringing both your intertwined hands up next to either side of your head. He locks your legs under his, ensuring that you can't wiggle out of his grasp, and lifts his head up slightly off your neck from the galaxy-covered hickies he left on the empty planes of your neck to look at you properly.

No makeup, bared open and vulnerable for him, hair looking like a rat's nest from the struggle, neck littered in violent splotches of blue, purple, and reds, lips bloated and shiny from tears trespassing down the planes of your face and down your chin. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, he feels your body tremble as you fight off the waves of exhaustion threatening to capsize your efforts. Your eyes, teary and bloodshot, ensnare him most of all. He feels as out of breath as you as he gazes lovingly, sickeningly down at you with unread emotions.

Love, hate, defiance, disgust, fear.

To him, you look ethereal.

"Why do you make me do this to you?" he whispers, pulling one hand out of your own to gently move strands of hair out of your face to see you better. He bites back a frustrated growl as you flinch and turn your head to the side, burrowing as much of your face into the pillow as you can. You don't want to see or hear him gloat, you just want him to take what he came here for and to leave you the fuck alone.

"Stop fucking-no, look at me," the hand that ever-so gently caressed your hair hardens as his entire hand grabs the lower half of your face to face him.

You try to mumble something out, but his invading hand covers your mouth. He doesn't seem keen on moving it or hearing what you have to say from the way he merely presses harder against your ajar lips.

"I can fulfill you better than that wimpy fuck could ever dream," he hisses, leering over you. Your muted scowl doesn't phase him as he continues, "And you don't need friends anyways. I'm enough for you. I'll take care of all your needs, financially, emotionally, and physically."

At this, he presses his hips right into your cunt, and holds his body there, groaning at the way you pulse for him even under the layers of clothing.

You squeal and try to squirm, but your displeasure proved moot as he uses a free hand to slither under the waistband of your short and dip lower.

This brings around another round of muffled screaming, your back arching as his fingers dance over your soft mound, finally claiming his prize and swiping his digits through your lips.

He makes sure you watch as he brings his fingers back up to his mouth and licks them clean, moaning and closing his eyes in bliss as he does so. Your horror is practically palpable as you freeze at the bizarre show, the violation leaving you speechless.

"You should have told me you were enjoying this, you fuckin' brat," he scoffs and wipes his spit-covered fingers across your cheek, chuckling as you scream in rage.

"Had I known you wanted to play rough like this from the start I would've fucked you raw in front of all your little friends."

He leans in, savoring your terror.

"After all, all a brat like you needs is a fat, hard cock stuffing her widdle pussy until she breaks."

He uses your frozen state to flip your entire body over with one hand, immediately closing in on you and covering your prone body with his own. One hand braces dangerously close next to your face to balance himself as he uses the other to grab a fistful of your locks and pull back, craning your head to meet his eyes once again.

Your back and stomach shake with the effort of holding yourself up in this painful and awkward position, and his hips slot themselves against your backside as if it was their rightful place.

He's not lying, you realize with dread as you can feel his thick and hard imprint nestle between your asscheeks, your shorts riding up in the process.

"But don't worry," he pants as he pulls aside your shorts and panties and begins thrusting himself up and down your wet slit, all the way up to your ass, making careful sure to tap his tip against your clit a couple times, making you jerk and whimper at the buzzing sensation.

"I'm not letting you go anytime soon. We have the rest of our lives to break you and put your pieces back together," he bites your earlobe as he hisses the promise, moaning loudly in your ear as he lets his tip indulge in your entrance, barely pulling back and pushing in inch by inch.

You wince and try to move your body forwards to escape the inevitable, but he twists your supporting arm behind your back painfully and lets your head fall back on the pillow in defeat with a hoarse sob.

"You're fucking mine."

[ellena-asg]

@itsadmiralactually

I agree with your point about James being a good choice as "a man who totally would do that job". Cause you're right, he's absolutely responsible and has sense of duty etc.

The reason why I am against him being captain of THAT ship is James' life situation. Both in movies and in Sins of the father book. All his life is literally serving and obeying other people. His shitty father (who treated him like a toy/tool), people with power, society rules and so on. He's under someone's control since childhood. All his life looks like duties, duties, duties. Navy, navy, navy.

Always doing things for others. Always repressed. Always so lonely. The Dutchman? Just another duty and obeying Calypso's rules (more noble than serving in the navy - cause you help poor dead souls - but still, it's something that became a curse, it's a job with cruel "you can't go to a land (...)). It's a job you have to do cause you stabbed a heart (no one wants it, even Jack changed his mind). It's a job... hey, Calypso, how about you doing it? 😉

It's years that will make you feel alone. All what James knows is feeling alone. He deserves a change. A life he never had. He deserves to have someone, friends. Someone who will want him for him and not for "being useful". The vision of Lizzie, Will, Jack & Co living there on land/Pearl and having their happy moments while Jamie is alone (or with some random crew/ghosts) and all time on the sea, in other part of the world, working and working... It's too sad. It's... unfair.

I think that what he needed whole his life was... freedom. The Dutchman is not a freedom. But there are other ships that are. And there are people who would want him in their family. Oh, they would, I believe! And there is a place for him there. There is a place for him learning and embracing his redemption.

Where I do see him? On the Pearl. On the ship that means freedom. On the ship with friends (Lizzie, Will, Jack). Him being their friends would be such a change. Him having freedom and doing things for himself (oh!) but also still for others - but this time with free will and for a good reasons. Him building a new place, new rules, new world for himself and his new allies, friends.

Him on Pearl again (DMC my beloved) but this time he truly sees himself there, he feels a part of this ship, this crew/found family. Him respecting and maybe even loving now the Pearl - a ship he once chased and wanted to destroy. Him joining Jack - a man who maybe is so different but also mirrors him so much. They're both victims of their fathers/families and the system. Both trying whole their life to prove they're worthy (as a Captain and Commodore/Admiral) because they weren't enough in people's eyes. Others made them each other's enemies, they had to fight, James thought that "all pirates are evil". But now? Him seeing all the bullshit, seeing all the mistakes, seeing how he, Jack and other people were hurt. Him finding friends on the other side of old conflict. Him being friends with those who he "hated". Him fixing things together with them. Oh, redemption being a big lesson. Gosh, him being friends with Will after all that mess! Him being besties with Lizzie like they deserved! Him having Gibbs again on his side! And Jack, oh gosh! And him fixing things with them, helping all people who were hurt on both sides, maybe even fighting with the rich power and Beckett-like guys? That sweet irony of life 😄

To be clear: I respect your view sooo much ♥️ I just wanted to explain my feels. And I wanted to say that I know James would be a great captain and would do that task and yeah, he's one of the finest men there and he would want to help poor souls. I just think that his anxious past makes him also a bad choice. I mean, he doesn't deserve to be lonely, serving and not knowing what a happiness is (and how a truly free life tastes). The Dutchman isn't it for me (but it's just my opinion and I know many people will disagree with it and also with my feels that James has a great potential to be a good pirate like Willabeth and Jack - and it's totally fine ♥️♥️♥️).

I want to see him with people who know him and respect him, who will say "come with us, Jamie". I want him to smile, laugh, having free days, adventures, little pleasures. I want him to feel the warmth. To be needed as him, as James. Him enjoying a simple life. Him being a sailor (man on a ship) but with freedom. Sailing when and where he wants to sail. Him focusing on the sun, wind, sea, birds, his friends. On what he can do (to quote Jack 😉).

P.S. Also, agree that it (Dutchman plot) would be better than his death 😭 Btw, it would be a great chance for Willabeth, Jack & Co to try to help him and take him away from there 😉 (something what 5th movie tried to make with Will's son, Jack & Co in Will's case - just imagine his reaction when Calypso is like "Oh, niiiiice, looks like some people miss you and wanna fight me for you. Go, boy, go to them" 😭).

[cherry-smokes]

I Want You So Bad

AKA the time you got tired of waiting. Based off of I Want You So Bad by Heart. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.5K Warnings: Sugar is uncharacteristically soft for a man.

Two dates. You've been on two dates with Steve and he's been perfect.

On your first one he took out to dinner. A fancy restaurant that you would never take yourself to. Steve insisted you order whatever you want, when you blushed at the price he just brushed you off.

"Steve this is...very expensive."

"You deserve expensive."

You learned a lot about Steve across the fancy table cloth. He's witty, he doesn't flinch when you bite back at a quip. Which you found undeniably attractive. Excluding Buckley, one of his closest friends is a high-schooler, Dustin, who you've heard about through Eddie. He calls him a dork, and a nuisance. The way he smiles when talking about how 'annoying' it was when Dustin and his friends would make him sneak them into the theater lets you know he loves the kid. When you ask about his parents he dodges the question. You don't press, but you can only assume he isn't close with them. You find yourself sad when he asks about you, just because you want to know so much more about him. You want to know what his favorite songs are, what side of the bed he sleeps on, how he takes his coffee, what he was scared of as a child. You want to know exactly how many moles he has and what his hair would feel like if you were to run your hands through it.

He said all the right things. Asked the prefect questions and clung to every word you said. Opened every door for you, he even let you pick what tape you wanted to listen to in the car! Then, he walked you to your door, and kissed you on the cheek. Which was sweet! At the time you assumed it meant he wasn't just looking for a hookup.

Then the second date came around. You walked around town, and went to the record store. You shared headphones in the listening booth. He listened to your favorite albums, never said an ill word about them even though you could tell he wasn't particularly enjoying Metallica. He even bought a Zeppelin tape to play in the car for you. Afterwards, he drove you home, walked you to your door with an arm around your waist, and he kissed you. On your cheek. Again.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel frustrated. After he left, you freaked out for about an hour. It made you feel silly, and ridiculous because it’s just not something you do! You’ve never let yourself lose sleep over a guy. Then again you’ve never liked someone the way you like Steve.

He's sending every signal that he's into you, but why won't he just kiss you? Steve doesn't have the reputation of a guy who takes things slow. It’s hypocritical of you. You know better than to base his actions off of who he used to be. Yet, there’s this ridiculous part of you that likes him so much you can’t help but overthink every single move he makes, or doesn’t make. Was he not as into you as you thought? Maybe he wasn't looking for a relationship? Maybe he's just a really...attentive friend?

You plagued yourself with doubts until he called you up and asked you if you wanted to go see a movie. You said yes, obviously. How else are you supposed to figure out if he’s trying to be more than friendly with you?

So now you're standing in front of your mirror wondering if you should wear jeans or a skirt. You hate that the question of what he would like most even crosses your mind.

When he knocks at your door you almost trip over your feet as you rush to open it and you have to take a moment to get your shit together.

Your hands shake as you grab the handle and open the door.

The cold autumn air hits your face as you swing it open. It works in your favor as it cools your flushed face when you see Steve. His hair looks as perfect as always. His sweater wraps around his arms in a way that makes you feel warm inside. You feel jealous of it as you wish you could wrap yourself around them like it does. Worst of all he smiles at you, and seems so genuinely happy to see you. Friends don’t do that right?

“Hey.”

You gasp for air. “Hi!”

This is ridiculous. You sound more excited than you’d like to. Any air of mystery you wanted to keep is gone.

“Uh- let me just grab my shoes I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush.”

You quickly lace up your boots. The door stays open and you try not to fumble over your laces as you feel Steve’s gaze on you. When you stumble onto your feet and walk out towards him, he lays his hand on the small of your back as you lock your door.

You try to ignore the shiver that crawls up your spine but it’s impossible when you can feel his warmth pressed against you and the smell of his shampoo reaching your nose. Even the hairspray isn’t enough to turn you off, everything about him is intoxicating. Dizzying. He makes you feel so foggy it’s embarrassing.

“This is a really nice sweater.”

His hand dips to the hem, he fiddles with it as he speaks. “It’s soft.”

You turn your face him, he doesn’t move his hand.

“Thanks.”

His lips quirk up as he tugs at your sweater to guide you to the car.

You’re so fucked.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He insisted he didn't mind sharing a straw, and put his arm around your shoulder. He leaned in and whispered soft jokes and comments about the movie in your ear and you felt his arm tense up when you giggled at his words. An attentive friend doesn't do that.

A friend doesn't tell you he doesn't want you to go home yet. He doesn't play Heart in the car while he drives you both to lovers lake. He sure as hell doesn't look at you like that when you're talking.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

You give him a disbelieving look. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“I’m just looking at you. Nothing weird about it.”

You lean against the headrest facing him. You smile at him like you did when you first met him. Hoping to make him blush the way he did then. “You’re looking at me like you like me or something.”

“I do like you…or something”

His words are quiet. If you weren’t listening so intently you might have missed them as they flew under the music from the radio. His car is warm, the heat is on and you can still smell popcorn on him. He’s so close but not close enough and the way the moonlight hits his face makes you desperate to touch him.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me?”

There it is. It’s too dark to see him blush, but you see the way his shoulders tense. He looks down and cowers into himself. He’s so curious to you. He can be so sure of himself, so cocky. He’ll grab at your clothes and whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of a theater. Yet, the moment you force him out of that shell he turns so shy.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles and you see his fingers start to fidget against his steering wheel.

“I just- I wanted to earn it I guess.”

“I think you earned it the moment you called me sweet Steve.”

He looks up at you then. His fingers tense around the steering wheel again and his gaze gets so intense you hold your breath. It must have been seconds but it feels like ages when he leans in. He hovers, and you can feel his eyelashes kissing your cheeks.

Suddenly. You feel like yourself again, and you reach your hand up to the back of his head. His hair feels just as soft as you imagined it between your fingers as you pull him in. His lips are soft against yours and you feel him gasp softly as you press against him. His hand finally leaves the wheel and lands on your thigh. It sends sparks through you as he digs his fingers softly into the flesh there. Not intrusive or invasive, almost like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

You never believed people when they said they felt fireworks when they kissed. You don’t now. Kissing Steve is tender. It feels more like a bonfire after you’ve been in the snow too long. It envelops you like a weighted blanket and you curse whatever power created you to need oxygen to survive when you have to pull away for air.

His hand travels up to cover yours behind his head. He holds it there, like he’s scared you’ll pull away.

“Have I earned another one yet?”

Friends definitely don’t ask that.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: Sugar and Steve are so back. This was shorter than I wanted it to be but I’ll have my asks open for anyone who wants to send in requests or questions. I’m so thankful for everyone who shared their support for my last post! This is a project I want to continue and expand and I would love to hear from y’all:)

the images used are from Pinterest once again!

[cherryswisherz]

GLORIA [verse one]

♱ CONTAINS: kissing and cursing das it

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: PAZZI MINI SERIES ONNA HOE okay so like the vision is pazzi reminiscing on memories of their relationship. shoutout anon for the request

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

❝i met her when i was off the porch as a teenager, she said one day i would right my wrongs and see paper❞

“BUECKERS!” Micah yells my name as I approach the benches near the basketball court. 

I’m 15 minutes late but everyone should be used to that by now. By now, being late is my trademark so none of my friends look bothered. In fact, almost everyone is smiling as they dap me up and say hello. 

Everyone except the only person in the group that I hadn’t seen before. Some girl with bug eyes. 

Okay, so they aren’t big eyes. But they are big, brown eyes that look at me like she wants nothing more than my head on the chopping block. 

“Yo, who’s this?” I nod my head towards the girl who’s shooting me the literal death glare. 

“This is Azzi.” Micah slings an arm around Azzi's shoulder and she shrugs him off with a huff. “She’s my cousin. She just moved here.”

“Can she hoop?” I ask. 

“She’s standing right here and she would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about her like she wasn’t.” Azzi snatches the ball from my hands and begins walking to the court. “And I thought the movie was White Men Can’t Jump?”

I have no choice but to laugh at her insinuation. Meeting her on the court, I snatch my ball back. “It’s a good thing I’m a woman then, huh?” I say.

“Oh? You got game white girl?”

“Like you’ve never seen before.” 

“Show me then.”

“Check.” 

And the game began.

❝we started out young, lookin' for some identity, made a thousand mistakes, but never did we lack chemistry❞

“PAIGE!” Azzi’s chasing after me. “Will you just wait for a a fucking second?”

Every fiber of my being is telling me to keep walking and never stop, but we’re in a hotel for state and she’s screaming my name. If someone complains, coach is gonna kill me. 

I stop walking and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Relax, Bueckers.

I pivot on my foot and stare at the girl in front of me.

If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell her how beautiful she is. With her frizzy french braids and her tie-dye t-shirt and her St. Patricks Day socks. But complimenting her would only make this whole situation even more awkward, and if it gets any more awkward I might off myself. 

So, instead of telling Azzi everything I’ve wanted to tell her since I’d met her, I speed walk back to our room grabbing her arm in the process. 

I’ve never been one for serious conversations and Azzi and I’s friendship isn’t necessarily one where we have too many of them. But tonight, I thought I saw something. 

Something in her eyes said, ‘it isn’t just you.’ 

God, I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

Shutting the door, I turn to her and make it a point to never take my eyes off the lamp behind her. 

“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her eyebrows and cocks her head a little to the side. “You’re sorry?” she sounds confused, which is confusing me. 

If she doesn’t want an apology then what the fuck does she want?

“Yes?”

“For what?”

For kissing you. For reading this whole thing wrong. For ruining our friendship and possibly losing us State because there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to focus tomorrow.

“For everything.”

All of a sudden, she’s not across the room for me anymore. She’s right in front of me, smacking me hard on the back of my head.

“OW!” I duck my head and slid under her raised arm. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“You’re so stupid!” She shouts.

“How the fuck am I stupid for apologizing to you?”

We’re both yelling at each other, which to anyone else, may seem like a bad thing. But Azzi and I get our best communication done during our screaming matches. 

Don’t ask me why… It just is what it is.

“Because I don’t want a fucking apology, Paige!”

“Well, the fuck do you want then?”

“YOU!”

Record. Scratch.

“What?” I’m not yelling anymore. I’m actually speaking so low that I almost don’t hear myself. “What did you say?”

“I was trying to tell you, but you kep-”

I cut her off, “Say it again, Azzi.”

She grins like the Cheshire cat, “I want you.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“Holy fuck, you’re actually dumb.” She rolls her eyes, “I like you too, Paige.”

I’ve waited to hear that for almost a year. 

A year of staring when she isn’t looking. A year of moments that I wondered if she held as close to her as I did. A year of wanting her- no, needing her in ways that seem too mature for a 17 year old girl.

A part of me thinks she’s joking. Or she’s just trying to make me feel better…

I think about the kiss we shared 2 minutes ago. Her soft lips on mine, her in my lap on the bed next to me, grinding on my lap, driving me insane. 

I think of her scrambling off me and saying stop and the guilt that has sat on my chest since.

“But-” The sentence dies in my mouth and tears well in my eyes, “But when we kissed-” I point at her “You said stop.”

Azzi’s arms fly up before plopping back to her side, “Because I don’t wanna fuck you the night before the state championship!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Azzi mocks me, “If you would have just waited 30 seconds, I would have told you that.”

Azzi Fudd likes me back. The girl I’ve been feining for, likes me back.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the chance to be a jackass, and of course, I have to take it.

I walk over to her and nudge her shoulder, “You liikkkee meeee.” I sing

She laughs and shoves me away, “Get away from me.”

“You liiikkke meeee and you liked when I kissed yooouuuu”

She crawls back in bed and uses the comforter to hide her smile, “Go to bed, Paige.”

I crawl in bed, on top of her and kiss all over her face, relishing in the fact that Azzi fucking Fudd likes me back.

❝i was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you, kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you❞

“Ms. Bueckers.” Ms. Jackson says. “Put your phone up, before it becomes my phone.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson.” I flash her a grin and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even need to me on my phone anymore anyway. 

Azzi and I’s plan is already set. 

My eyes never leave the clock. Counting the seconds until they become a minute, until eventually a minute begins five. 

My hand shoots in the air. “Can I go see my counselor?”

Ms. Jackson never turns from the board, her back still to the class as she groans before saying, “Get out, Paige.” 

“Love you too, Ms. Jackson.” I smile and dip out of the classroom, making my way across campus to the gym.

“Finally.” Azzi groans, ball already in hand. “How do you make the plans and still come late?”

“Shut up,” I throw my bag down and walk over to her. ‘Gimme kiss.” 

She ducks away from me, laughing, “I thought we were gonna play one-on-one?”

“We were.” I nod my head, “But you look so good,” I smile and grab her hips, pulling her closer. 

She gives me a peck and tries to pull away, but a peck is never enough, so I chase her lips and she drops the ball, wrapping her arms around my neck. 

In a few months I’m gonna graduate and go to UCONN and she’s still gonna be here. We’re gonna be almost 2,000 miles apart, and I don’t know how I’m gonna survive without her but I’m not gonna think about it right now. 

Right now, I’m gonna do everything but fuck my girlfriend in the middle of my high school's gym.

♱TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

[cherrysurf]

winning you back pt.2

-where haikyu boys try to win back you their ex gf

-this is lwk depressing but maybe it’s bc of the music im listening to rn LMAO

contains; atsumu, tsukishima, kita, sakusa, oikawa, iwaizumi

pt.1 of winning you back here!

atsumu; He still very much has all your pictures on his feed that he never deleted and never will you had to go minimal contact with him because he kept texting you every other day to try to get back together, he still loves you and thinks your gonna be his wife and that this is just a rough patch, so when you post that you’re going to be volunteering at osamu’s restaurant for a charity that osamu is doing for young kids to get into volleyball he takes it upon himself to cancel his practice for that day and go and join you two and begged and forced osamu to make you too work together so he can talk to you, and those dam miya’s being so good and weaseling there way back into life’s, it worked. You two are now talking again. You told him that you wanted to take this slow, but atsumu later that week posted a soft launch of you two at dinner.

tsukishima; tsukishima acts like he’s so nonchalant but no one’s seen him cry over how bad it’s killing him that you can fully ignore him when he’s usually the one doing that. He hates how bad he fucked up so he decided to make a plan to win you back, what does that mean he had to do? work at the same cat cafe as you, at first you weren’t on the same shifts and maybe hanging out with cats was a plus but getting crushed on by other girls wasn’t. Anyways as soon and he saw you two were on the same shift he couldn’t be more happy, it was a slow shift so he used this time to catch up and be very soft and respectful he saw you weren’t fighting back so he was thinking that was a step forward, until later on when a girl came by to order a drink and was clearly flirting with him so tsukishima ignored her, as she said “can i get your number?” you turned to see what he would do all he said was “no i have a girlfriend she’s right there actually, i don’t what gave you the confidence to think you could ask me” he said laughing which left the girl embarrassed and you flustered.

kita; Kita is forever my yearning man. He writes letters for you and sends them, you kept them all because you still didn’t get over him. He thought it was the right choice to let you go but he couldn’t have been more wrong, and I fear kita is the type to have a romantic scene like the movies. So what? anyways he comes by your hour IN THE POURING RAIN. to apologize “i’m sorry im selfish for breaking up with you yn, i just clean up well i forget myself” OOOO YOU END UP SOBBING BC WHO WOULDN'T?! anyways safe to say you kissed in the rain and he won you back

sakusa; stubborn ass ho. He was shocked when you broke things off even more when you actually stood on business, sakusa was one to keep his composure and not crashout but he couldn’t understand why he was so affected by the breakup it’s like his whole life flipped upside down. He even stopped keeping up with himself for a bit which was totally out of the norm. So when you saw him at your apartment in the lates of the night messy hair, wrinkles in his clothes looking dead you knew something was wrong, he almost felt like he could breathe again once you embraced him, disgusting and all and he didn’t let go since and tried to change for the better

oikawa; He acted happy at first like it didn’t matter because he thought you needed him more than he needed you. Oh how wrong he was, the fan girls didn’t support him the way you did, didn’t cheer for him the way you did, no one could cook as good as you, no one could get him out his depression like you could, so one night around 4am he gave you a call wanting to quit volleyball because he felt like he couldn’t do anymore without you there, which broke your heart because you saw how bad he was struggling without you there and that’s when he finally admits “I needed you more than you needed me. Come back yn, i’m sorry” and you did because you needed him just as much as he needed you.

iwaizumi; it was mutual breakup but not really he just did whatever he could to make you happy he hated fighting with you, he never deleted your pictures, he still kept all your stuff that you didn’t take at his house, he was still loyal even if you weren’t together, He blamed himself for not fighting back. he became very very career oriented that’s when he saw you at a job interview, you had just finished interviewing for the place he works at as a sports medical assistant. you weren’t aware he was working there so he stopped you and asked to get lunch since you were leaving and he was on his lunch break. That's where he apologized for not doing more and still thought about you and asked for a redo and would do anything for a second chance, and you agreed because you felt the same.

tags; @solarvrse (for the atsumu one) @sahrii (for the iwaizumi one)