#and its also like. i think he should get to have his

[rawme-price]

A bit more abt harpy eagle!reader and macaw!gaz who have some crazy cultural misunderstandings???

So you and gaz have slept together a few times by now, always amazing and always leaving him sore and happy, right? Hes falling for you hard, dreaming about ur toothbrush next to his and ur socks showing up in his laundry, what you would look like sleepy or confused in the morning.

But, you just, dont seem at all interested? Hes cawing at you, rubbing his face along ur neck when you two cuddle, showing off his wings after u preen them. Sure, you put up with it, but you never reciprocate. Its enough to have kyle doubting himself, wondering if you see him as more than anything than a good fuck.

But you preen his wings, and hes not seen you walking out of anyone else's bedrooms, so that has to mean something right? Except its hard to convince himself that when you brush off every single courting display he can think of. It gets to the point that when you coo softly at him and reach for his wings, hes brushing u off with a frown.

"Why the hell should i let you?" He demands, feathers ruffling "you treat me like a fucking toy! Im head over heels for you, and youre just along for the ride, I cant handle that! Could you please just tell me what we are, so I can try to move on?"

He startles when you let out a sad warble, tears in ur eyes. "What? Kyle- baby, no. I'm madly in love with you, I cant imagine every having another. Why the hell would I change our relationship?" You seem genuinely confused, ur own wings shuffling.

"What relationship? There's hardly one there. I've been trying to court you all month and I get nothing! Absolutely nothing in return!" Kyles pacing the small room, and for once you look smaller than him. Ur eyes widen, fave heating with an embarrassed chirp.

"Oh...oh shit. Courting. Uhm, kyle, baby?" You wait for him to look at you before continuing "harpy eagles dont traditionally do the whole...courting thing like macaws do, I guess. Usually we just pick someone and that's set."

Kyle takes all of this in, posture slowly relaxing. So you weren't brushing him off, you just forgot about cultural differences, which kyle is also guilty of. Then, he let's out a half-shocked half-thrilled chirp of realization. "Wait! Wait, what do you mean you just pick and go? Like- forever? Does that mean, im uh- im your?"

"First? Yeah. I uh, kinda thought we were an item already, given how often we fuck." The you frown a bit "if thats not something you want, thats okay. I really should have asked inste-"

Kyle slaps a hand over ur mouth, an exhilarated grin on his face "no take backs! We're a couple now! Its okay, ill get you caught up on macaw courting in no time. Youre gonna need it when you meet my moms."

Anyways now you two are an item and the rest of the guys have to deal with two literal love birds on base at all times lol.

[yuzukatanki]

"Look at me tonight, not as a man, but as your husband." || Caleb x Reader || 18+

tags: Lots of fluff with smut, oral (f!recieving), fingering, overstimulation

Attention: this is NOT "canon" to the recent card and its storyline, just also wedding-inspired, lest someone becomes confused. Also not canon to the game's storyline either, so don't tell me how this fic wouldn't be possible lol. Also, this got super long.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵٩(ˊ〇ˋ*)و︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Caleb can not wait to get his hands on you. His eyes have been glued to you all day. Sure, there really is nowhere else he should or even could be looking as your future husband (and just thinking that gets him feeling both fuzzy and heart-stoppingly terrified). But... It's the sight of you in the prettiest white dress he's ever seen, and his heart refuses to calm down. The stupid organ's so active it could win a gymnastics medal. Caleb knows you're beautiful. He whispers that to himself when nightmares wake him, and the sight of you breathing softly next to him calms the panic. He knows this every time he marvels at the fact that you're here, with him. He thinks of it every time he sees you in the sunlight, in his clothes, in his arms. But today? It's as if you've become so beautiful he can't even compare you to anything human; you look like an angel. An angel, that's smiling today... Because she's going to marry him. Fuck, it's like you're glowing.

And you're his. His pipsqueak. His darling. His... His soon-to-be Wife.

From when you first shoo'ed him away to get ready earlier in the day, to when you let him see the dress, Caleb's heart is so overworked he's surprised he didn't faint when he first saw you in white. From nerves to just such an overwhelming surge of love, the poor organ is working overtime in there. And you... God, you sweet, silly girl, you just had to pull Caleb down a little, take advantage of how stunned he is to whisper so sweetly in his ear.

You've both said "I love you" so, so many times to each other. You've even said worse. Fuck, you're getting married today. But as you shyly whisper it in his ear, in that dress, Caleb is sure that it's done. His heart has stopped. He's going to die on his wedding day, from pure adoration and love. Yet he's got to revive himself. What kind of man would he be to leave you a widow after he worked so hard to make you his wife? And as you pull away, a shy smile on your face, he can't help but bring you back and press a kiss to your cheek. He whispers in his teasing tone, though it seems warmer right now, almost a little choked from emotions.

"You're looking so beautiful, you sure you wanna marry me, pipsqueak?" Of course, when he tries to ruffle your hair alongside his words, Caleb is promptly kicked out by your bridesmaids, scolded all the while for even daring to "mess up" the style they worked so hard on. And once he's out, the very few guests you've invited descend upon him with congratulations and bad marriage advice.

The day continues on, Caleb honestly can't remember anything before or after he sees you walking down the aisle. All conversations, even fears and nerves, are just pushed out of his brain, and he won't be surprised to later find a picture that has him with his eyes wide and mouth slack. Because God. Fuck. Did he tell you you're beautiful? Is there another word? "Beautiful" does not seem enough to describe you right now. And he swears he didn't cry, but you distinctly remember looking up, and if there were no guests around, you would've giggled.

Because there stands the mighty Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, the man shrouded in quite a bit of mystery and fear, the one who you would always want by your side to face the strongest of wanderers... With tears in his eyes, and they're oh so close to falling. And sure, you swear you didn't cry either, but soon, you and Caleb will come to a truce to say that neither of you did (though everyone knows the truth). You both get through your vows with voices that shake just a lil, and some sniffles you refuse to acknowledge. You kiss, chaste and sweet and after let the drinks flow, all with Caleb's hand on your waist, and his gaze pinned on you. The sounds of your now drunk guests cheering, the music, you don't really hear much of it, and before you know it, the day's passed. Somehow, it's all winded down, and you're not really sure when you guys left the venue and stumbled back to Caleb's Skyhaven home.

Is it the drinks? Is that why you're both giggling like little kids? Or is the giddiness and excitement because you've done it? You're married. Husband and Wife. Drunkenly dancing into the halls of your home, laughing over everything and nothing. Pulling each other closer, still as lovers, but now with a promise between you as you reach the bedroom.

Both of you are still giggling, like teens on their first date, as Caleb presses kisses to the nape of your neck as he undoes the zippers, ties and laces of your dress. As you pull off your jewelry and step out of the dress so Caleb can gently try his best to put it somewhere safe, both you and he are flushed. Have you stopped smiling even once today? You're not sure, but you forget the question as you step closer to Caleb, now working on unbuttoning his suit. Your lipstick leaves kiss marks all over his neck, as your fingers tug the shirt open, and maybe in the morning, you'll cringe at the stains on his collar. But Caleb will smile proudly and try to find a dry-cleaners that can clean the suit without removing the lipstick, much to your chagrin.

Caleb's hands also work on unclasping your bra, his own lips pressing on your forehead, your temples and your hair. It's only when you're both done stripping that you still for a second, Caleb with his face buried in your hair, and you in his chest. It's a moment of breathing in each other's presence, before Caleb's hands move again. This time, they move from where they'd been clasped around your hips, tracing up slowly. His fingers ghost over your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before reaching your face, where he brings your gaze to his. When you slot your lips together, it's perfect.

Your tongues move in sync, and Caleb guides you, albeit a bit clumsily, to the bed. When your back hits the mattress, he pulls away, and the visual is just breathtaking. He looks so ethereal, his half-lidded, adoring gaze making your heart quicken, his strong arms caging you in so securely. And when he goes down, settling on the bed as he pushes your legs open, a finger slides up and down your covered slit, and you can't stifle your gasp.

It only fuels him, though, his gaze becoming hungrier as his fingers now push past the cloth of your pretty panties to teasingly press and rub on your tight hole. When you look down, a shiver travels up your spine, making him chuckle. "It's so tiny... Can't believe it takes my cock so well." He muses, fingers coming back up now, moving on to poke at your clit. He gives it a teasing rub, enjoying the twitch in your thighs.

"C-Caleb-!" You're gasping, pussy already damp and he hasn't even done anything much. You turn your pleading gaze to him, hoping he can tell from just your pout how much you want, no need, to feel his tongue on your cunt. However, when he just raises a brow, you frown. "Hubby..." You whine, hoping to appease him, knowing how something in Caleb's brain always overheats when you call him a possessive nickname. And sure enough, it works. You can feel the hand gently holding your thigh tighten its grip.

"Yeah, honey?" he answers, smirk on his face as his finger continues to rub gentle circles on your clit. "You need something? Want your hubby to do something for you?" He continues, and when you whine again, he presses a kiss to the part of your inner thigh that's so close to your cunt, pulling back with a lil nip. "Come on... Tell me." He says, and like always, you know it's more than he's waiting for. He's not just waiting for your pleading, but for your command. He's waiting for an admission. An admission that you want him as bad as he wants you. That you want him to do things to you so badly, you'll command him to do it.

And you indulge. Gasping, you tell him. "F-fuck. Use your... Use your mouth, please!"

And Caleb indulges you, too. His head had honestly moved down before you'd even finished your sentence, and your entire body shivers when you feel his tongue glide up the fabric. Before you can whine and gently tug on his hair to say "Take them off!" he does, sitting back as he pulls em down and off your legs, holding them up with a cocky smile.

"Wooow... I know you liked me enough to marry me, but this much?" He jokes, and you gently "kick" his stomach (though it's more like a press, and with those abs, would he even feel anything??). But it works, Caleb tosses the panties somewhere, settling back down between your thighs. This time, his tongue presses true and proper on your cunt. And he eats you out like he's fucking starving. You're not sure if your fingers are gripping his hair so you can push him away or pull him closer, as he sucks on your clit, the stimulation definitely making your muscles spasm. His moans against your cunt make your heart throb, and when you glance down, you can catch a glimpse of how fucking messy his face looks, but how fucking elated his expression is right now.

Caleb makes you cum a minimum of twice everytime he goes down on you, and today it's like he's doubled that rule. No matter how much you whine, trying to close your thighs or push his head away, his strong hands just push 'em open, and he stubbornly refuses to move. His eyes flick up to gauge if you're really struggling, and when he gets his answer, he goes right back. At some point Calebs fingers start massaging your hole, waiting until you're so wet and loose they can slip in comparitively easy while he works on your clit. Caleb hums when he feels you tremble from the stretch, pressing a last few wet, open mouth kisses to your pussy before pulling away. "Yeah... Just breathe. I'm gonna make you feel good, right? You're gonna take all of me in your pretty pussy, right? My fingers, my cock, they're all gonna stretch you open for me." He mumbles, his eyes glued to the visual of your cunt taking in his fingers so prettily.

It makes your cheeks burn a little, how intensely he watches his fingers go in and out of your hole. So much so that you end up having to reach up and pull him down for another kiss.

This kiss is messy. It's all tongue with some teeth as you bite Caleb's bottom lip. You can feel some of your mind slipping into a fuzzy haze as you focus on Caleb's tongue expertly exploring, claiming your mouth, while his fingers pump in and out.

It's only after he's made you cum on his fingers (and just how many times has it been in total now?) that Caleb pulls them out with a filthy, wet sound. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you moan into your kiss, and you can feel Caleb trying to free his cock from its confines. When he pulls away, he sits back, breathless, eyes trained on you, as one hand carelessly works his cock. The head glistens with pre, and Caleb moans as he looks down at you.

"H-hey..." He calls, trying to pull you out of your daze. "Fuck... You're so pretty." He says, voice cracking a lil. He leans forward, plopping his head on your shoulder now. "You're so fucking pretty... And you're my wife?" He bites the place where your neck and shoulder meet so gently. "You married me?" He mumbles into the skin, hands leaving his cock to grab one of your tits, thumbing the nipple softly. He peppers sloppy kisses all over your neck as he continues to ramble, and you can't decide whether to focus on that or the way he's pinching your nipples.

"I- I'm gonna make you happy, right?" He asks as he moves down, looking up as he locks his lips on one of your tits. And you don't really have the bandwidth to say what you want to, so you moan. And it's an answer enough. While he sucks on your tits, Calebs free hand guides his cock. He grinds it a few times on your folds, slipping on the slickness there, before he takes a deep breath and presses it against the tight slit. You can feel the tenseness in his body as he pushes it in, and no matter how many times you've done it, you freeze as you feel inch after inch sink in so torturously slow. The stretch of that fat head, the stupid girth, a part of you wishes he'd just slam in, but that's not like Caleb. Caleb always wants to be gentle. He'd rather die then cause you any pain, even if you're feeling emotionally antagonized waiting for all of his stupid big dick to just go in.

When he's finally in, both of you go just a lil boneless with relief, waiting just a second until Caleb pulls back. And this time, he does slam it in. Your head falls back, the room is so noisy with loud moans, the wet sounds and the banging of the headboard hitting the wall. Caleb moves back to your neck, leaving your tits to his large hands, and a non-dazed part of you can hear him mumbling praise against your skin, can feel him biting and kissing, leaving a sizable amount of marks for you to find tomorrow morning. You can hear his breathy moans and how he whines about feeling so good inside you, how he fits so perfectly, how his wife is so fucking gorgeous he can't believe it. And Caleb cums faster then he ever has today, burying his face in your chest as he pulls out, his hot cum spilling all over your stomach. Your heavy hands bring his face up to yours, and you can see a little shine in his eyes, and you pepper kisses all over his cheeks, his nose, his pretty eyes and finally his lips. You both laugh softly as your previously intense kisses have now turned soft and sweet. Pressing gentle pecks on each other's lips.

Afterwards, Caleb collapses on top of you. The feeling is perfect, not heavy enough to crush you, but enough to make you feel secure and warm. You're not sure how you fall asleep in that state, when you wake up the next morning desperately wanting a shower, but feeling a bit too sore. And you decide to shake Caleb awake so that he can fill the bath for you two. But all that is talk and plans for the morning. Right now, honestly, you're both waaaay too tired to do anything. Exhaustion from wedding stuff and "married couple stuff" is leaving your minds drifting. And when you wake up, you can grumble about how gross you feel, and Caleb can agree as he presses a kiss to your ring finger.

A/N: Yaaay, everyone, let's celebrate our husbands coming home!! For me, it was Caleb (and hopefully next Sylus or Zayne, I'm not that picky), and thus I bring you a gift! It's Caleb and Reader's wedding night hehe~. I wanted to write Caleb as a softie... I mean Caleb has gone through so much that I really do think that if he and MC ever had the chance for a "normal" wedding he'd be an anxious, lovestruck mess the entire time. but I got carried away, didn't i? The fic is so long! But... I just love Caleb a lot. As a day1 one since launch player, I used to swear to all my friends that he would come back, and he did! So now I love spoiling him for mostly proving me right (as he should! The wife is always right!) and then for being a cutie!

Anyways, if you read such a long fic, on Tumblr of all places, thank you, really. Now that it's summer, I might start putting longer fics like these on AO3! Also, I'm always ip for beta-readers, especially cus after writing longer fics, I swear everything I write is awfu lolol!

Here's my fic masterlist, if you wish to read more! So small currently....

[ikeukiss]

DARE ME TO

〔 𝒾 〕 Your best friend told you her brother was off limits years ago, and that should have been the end of it. But feelings, especially reciprocated ones, don't die, not when you're going to be in close proximity for a week.

𝐬𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝓍 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 11.7K ⋮ 18+ ⋮ angst, fluff, smut, best friend's (younger) brother!jake, forbidden attraction au, college au, alcohol use, feat! heeseung, dry humping, clit play, body worship, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie ᯤ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈: new emotion — the aces, do you think about me — lahar, boys like you — who is fancy, starving — hailee steinfeld, butterfly rain — tori templet, i'm not in love — emily james, dive — ed sheeran, ready set go — bnza, shooting star — muna, say it again —frances

⌗ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ── Nobody ever really does female best friend's sibling and I wanted to for this because Jake is clearly my muse and I'm obsessed, so here we go! Bless all my friends who read the story before its release— @tinycatharsis, @lovetaroandtaemin @xylatox @xomakara @aeristudios @hannieoftheyear and @frenchkisstheabyss—because they kept me going to post it! I love you all so much, thank you. I hope you guys enjoy!

There are two things you are certain of in this life. Sim Jaemin, Jamie to those who know her best, will always be your dearest friend, and she is relentless in getting what she wants.

Jamie pushed herself to learn tennis all on her own at nine, simply because she found Serena Williams incredibly attractive wielding a racket like a sword. She decided in middle school to make you her best friend, even as she was an opinionated, bouncy thirteen-year-old that made you, a girl who still hid behind her lunchbox, feel intimidated to no end. She convinced her parents to take in the neighbor's dog at sixteen when the old couple decided to leave the beautiful pup behind. "Layla is too cute to just go to anyone!" The pout she threw, perfectly curved with the cupid's bow of an angel, made every single person in the family cave without another word. Jake needed little persuasion; her little brother was always fond of animals. Still is.

Then, she got older, and more reasonable demands came to the forefront.

"I don't want you ruining our friendship by liking my brother." When she said this on the verge of your first year of university, it was the furthest thing from your mind. Tuition paperwork, scholarship applications, and the freshman fifteen was all you could focus on back then. Even as you watched Jake, on the tail-end of junior year, swim a few laps in the family's pool.

"One, he's too young for me. Two, you're worth more than a crush, as if I had one." Your arguments convinced her because it was true. You did not like Sim Jaeyun. You would barely look his way if he didn't have familial ties he shared with your best friend, although he was always friendly and funny to you. Yet, that was the intention: a younger brother, annoying, yet well-behaved.

He crosses your mind now and then, some photos he shares with Jamie popping up on your feed when she goes to her parents for visits without you, leaving you behind in your shared dorm room to doomscroll and avoid the problems awaiting at home. She's beautiful, bright, magnanimous in personality.

It's no coincidence her brother shares the same level of allure.

Now, he lingers on your mind as your hands clench the steering wheel. You and Jamie always went home for spring break, tradition the strongest facet of the Sim family. As Jake is also on his way home for his first spring break since starting college, his soccer scholarship keeping him plenty busy, you wonder how the dynamic between all of you—three full-fledged adults—will change. You're not much older than each other. Two years separate you girls from the only boy in the Sim household, but Jamie has always been smaller than her brother; the youngest sprouted like a tree when he reached high school. You, you're just short because of the universe's sarcastic design.

"Are you even listening? I'm baring my soul here about Chungha and you're too busy lost in thought!" Jamie cries, throwing an arm over her eyes for a dramatic flare.

You chuckle. "I'm actually too busy driving the car, asshole," you note with a quirked eyebrow. "Anyway, I thought your broken heart was because of Seungcheol."

"That was two months ago! This is now! She was supposed to Facetime me last night about her plans for the break, but never did. She hates me now, it's official."

Just because Jamie is headstrong doesn't mean she's prone to being realistic.

You sigh. "Her phone probably died. And we left pretty early this morning. I bet she'll text you as soon as she gets up today."

She nods, whining but agreeing. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd have lost my head by now."

Laughing, you make another turn. The street the Sim family house resides on comes into clear view, birch trees and tulip bushes welcoming you like an old friend coming back from a long trip off to faraway lands. You breathe easy, already feeling more at home here than anywhere else, including your parent's place twenty minutes away.

You always tell them you're too busy to visit, even during the occasional weekend off from exams and term papers. It's too hard to watch them bicker and pick you apart like they've done since you were small. At Jamie's, with her parents and Jake, you don't feel like an outsider intruding with every eggshell you stumble upon. You're safe, content, fearless.

When you see her parents at the front door, ready to welcome you both with warm hugs, you're reminded of the peace they provide. There's no need to act formal, not anymore. Not when they've seen you through all of your formative years with more kindness than your own family has ever provided.

"There they are!" Jamie's dad, Yongjin, exclaims. He pulls Jamie into a bear hug as Jihyun, her mother, wraps her arms around you.

You drop your bags on the doorstep, embracing Jihyun fully. She smells like rosemary and plum, with hints of book pages. No other scent can replicate it. "Let me look at you," she says as she plants both hands on either side of your face. "Have you been eating? You look pale."

You nod, grinning. "Just wanted to wait until we got here to dig in. Besides, I know there's braised pork waiting for us on the counter."

Her face scrunches up as she smiles and pats your cheek. "Nothing gets past you, huh, ladybug? Let's go inside then! I know you girls are hungry."

Your old nickname used to drive you crazy. But you'll always hold a special place for it, especially when Jihyun says it with every ounce of love she possesses.

"Where's Jake, dad? Still on his way?" Jamie asks as she drops her bag in the hallway.

"He's in the pool. He actually got in last night. Practice was canceled last minute, so he came straight here." Yongjin coughs as he picks up both of your bags, heading upstairs to drop them off in your respective rooms. "Bring the rascal in for lunch, won't you?"

"Not before your daughter helps with setting out the plates!" Jihyun turns to Jamie with a smirk. Your best friend rolls her eyes but runs to the kitchen without a word of protest. Jamie may get what she wants, but she knows to follow a parental order like holy scripture.

Jihyun turns her smile on you. "Ladybug, go bring in Jake, please?"

You nod, walking toward the glass doors leading to the backyard area. You open one slowly, taking in the surrounding sunshine that bathes the pool in an ethereal glow. The spirit of the Sim house extends to every corner, including the water you've swum in a thousand times.

Before you can even call out to him, Jake's moving out of the pool and leaning down to grab his towel from the beach lounger. Once he sees you, his expression changes from intense focus to his usual softness. His shoulders slack like any pressure he was carrying disintegrates, his face contorting in the same way with a cheery grin and raised eyebrows. His wet hair swipes across his face like a mop, but you could recognize him anywhere. 

A pregnant pause sits between you both, and you’re unsure why. Maybe it’s because Jake looks different from the last time you saw him that week in August, before he left with the wrecked nerves of an incoming freshman. He was scrawny, not a muscle on him except for the ones he gained from soccer—which weren't that many because of his stature—with braces that carried him through his teenage years like a backpack. Now, he’s all white teeth and chiseled abs, body confidently glistening under the rays of sunlight. 

You’ve been the same appearance-wise for years, but Jake looks at you like you’ve gone through a metamorphosis only he can see. It makes your cheeks bloom a shade deeper than you're used to, but you try to brush the feeling off. It means nothing, can mean nothing.

“You’re early,” he says finally.

"Wanted to miss all the traffic," you reply, hands splayed out on your thighs. "I'd hug you, but…you know."

Jake takes that suggestion as a dare, lips pursing in a suggestive pout. He runs before you can take the hint, grabbing you between his biceps and immediately squeezing you against his wet skin as you squeal. "When has that ever stopped me, ladybug?"

Despite his soaked form and the small distance he puts between you both when he's satisfied he's greeted you properly, he's still radiating a warmth that cuts through the decorum you thought was still necessary to use with him more than anyone else in the family. It might be the reason he's so eager to thaw it out immediately. He can recognize in that instant your nerves from being away for so long are the cause.

But there's no reason to be formal. You're still the same girl who cried trying to save the insect you're lovingly nicknamed after during a thunderstorm. You've detested the bleak weather ever since, and sometimes the term of endearment too, and he knows that.

He knows so many things about you, more than you want to admit.

"C'mon kiddos, the food's getting cold!" Jake's dad calls from inside the house, and Jake immediately takes the cue to jog inside, leaving you standing there, slightly damp and confused.

He turns back at the archway of the glass doors, a smile framing his face. You turn just as he asks, "You coming?"

This break may be harder than you expected it to be.

You throw stones from the garden floor and across the lush field in front of you, tears streaming down your face as the sun blares above. It's too bright today for how terrible your heartbreak feels.

Almost 500 miles between two universities was enough for Taeyong to call it quits. As if a year of dating didn't matter in that instant when your ex had to come face to face with the unknown. You were willing to brave it, to see if your love could survive long-distance, but he obviously wasn't. "Be realistic," he said a few hours ago, feigning false pain.

You couldn't bear to stay in your own house, your parents' judgemental eyes staring you down in a way that made you keep all your anguish inside. A trip over the fence to the Sim house wasn't a tough feat when everything else felt insurmountable.

And there you are, sitting near Jamie's mother's prize roses and hating everything they represent. Love, passion, desire. It's all for show; none of it is true when the harsh realities come around the corner. Taeyong and your parents proved that.

Out of the blue, Jaeyun appears in soccer attire not meant for JV players. You hide your face from him in that second, trying to avoid the mirage of questions he'll throw at you if he sees your red-rimmed eyes. "Climbed over again, huh?" he asks, a joke you can't take interjected in his voice.

You nod, shoulders steeled and windpipe tight. "Didn't feel like staying home right now. Gonna tell me to go back?"

Jake raises his arms in defense. "No, I mean—I don't mind. Would've seen you later, anyway." He moves to sit next to you, crossing his legs in the dirt and splaying his arms behind his back.

"You're home late," you realize. The sunset brews under the clouds, seven o'clock a few minutes away.

Jake chuckles again, the sound light and unbelieving. "I was actually trying out for varsity," he confesses. "I got it."

You wipe your subsequent tears away, focusing on your friend and his achievement. He's always wanted to play with the bigger guys at school, and you won't let such success go understated. "That's amazing! Does Jamie know yet?"

He shakes his head, blushing suddenly. "You're the first person I've told."

"Wow," you say. "Sim Jaeyun, soccer prodigy, letting me be the first to know? I'm honored."

He knocks your shoulder with his own, saying nothing verbally. His smile says enough. "Gonna tell me what's bothering you now?"

You sigh, the sadness bubbling back up. "Taeyong dumped me. Said going to schools so far away from each other is too much to handle." You throw another rock, anger suddenly replacing the misery you walked into the garden with. "Fuck him."

"Yeah. He doesn't know a good thing when he has it." Jake says it like he's afraid it'll mean more than what it does on the surface, his voice low and tentative. Is it out of his depth to say something like that to you, his older sister's best friend? He doesn't know, but it felt right to say.

You laugh sadly and run your fingers through the grass. "I just gotta move forward. Spend the summer focused on me, you know?"

Jake nods and knocks his shoulder into yours once again. "Come on, let's take a dip in the pool. It always makes you feel better." He motions to the house behind him. "Go borrow one of Jamie's swimsuits, yeah?"

You grin at his suggestion. He always makes the worst times better somehow, a ray of sunshine that isn't blinding to the eye. It's welcoming and soothing, a salve on a day you thought was hopeless. "Sure."

As you head upstairs, Jake's mom smiling at you both as you run past the kitchen, you think about the way you can float with all of them rather than sink.

The memory washes over you as you stare at the same patch of grass from that day, reminiscent with a smile on your face, thankful nobody can see it under the cover of night.

"Earth to my best friend! There's tequila that's going to waste over here," Jamie says as she hands you another shot. She's careful to avoid dropping it into the pool thanks to the mirage of garden lights around your spot. The both of you sit on the edge with your toes in the water, teasing the idea of slipping in with the two boys already wading around in the water. "Chungha ghosted me and I need your unwavering support right now."

"It'll never go to waste on you, JJ," Heeseung, Jake's best friend, flirts with Jamie as he floats past you both. "And whoever that girl is is clearly a dipshit."

Lee Heeseung stayed local for his college experience, but he's always remained close to Jake and the Sim family in the same way you have, except he and Jake grew up together from primary school and on. And as far as Jamie goes, he'll be damned if he stops trying to get her to take a chance on him one day, despite every rejection she's delivered with a loving middle finger in his face.

Jamie kicks some water at him before downing another few ounces of liquor. "Thank you but if that's another covert shooting of your shot, no thanks, pal."

Heeseung scoffs playfully as you giggle. "Anyway, since we have an appropriate beverage for it…" he says just in time for Jake to swim over from his usual corner near the hot tub. "Let's play Never Have I Ever, shall we?"

You all roll your eyes, but you don't object. Anything to ramp up the chill session by the pool; your spring break is already too lackadaisical at this point.

"Never have I ever stolen candy from Jungwon's parents' convenience store."

All of you take the shots with ease. The poor kid always knew when you and Jamie were bagging an extra candy bar in your purse or pockets, but batting your eyelashes in his direction was enough for him to look the other way. "Boys," Jamie said once, "are too predictable."

Jake begins his turn with, "Never have I ever used my parent's car without them knowing," as he pours drinks for everyone, only for Jamie to sip hers in that instant.

She raises a hand to speak her mind, and you giggle into your shot, downing it in time before the liquid can trickle down your chin. "In my defense, Mom decided to change her mind at the last second. I just stuck to the original promise she made." She turns to you. "When did you hijack yours?"

"One time when I wanted to go to Taeyong's house. I was back the next morning before they could realize it was gone."

"Asshole," Jamie and Jake mutter simultaneously, to which Jamie poses the question to her brother, "What would you know about him besides his stats, dipshit? And you're the one who played on the same team as him, like a traitor."

"Not at the same time!" Jake yells, offended. "Besides, even if we did, I would've never passed the ball to that douchebag."

Heeseung chuckles. The sound holds some type of knowledge neither you nor Jamie are privy to, but Jake looks at his friend with a death stare. You want to dissect the interaction further, but you guys pass over questions and drinks quickly after that. The tequila blurs your inhibitions as you fall into more teasing banter and laughter. Finally, your trip is getting fun.

"Alright, my turn again," Heeseung says. He pours another set of shots before he declares, "Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this circle."

The posed statement sinks into your gut like a stone; any chance of excitement for the night is gone. Your buzz disappears as soon as the last word falls from Heeseung's lips.

He immediately gulps down his drink, smiling the whole time. "Oh shoot," he says with his devious smirk pointed in Jamie's direction. "Sorry, love."

"Still never gonna happen, pipsqueak," Jamie responds with a slur, the edges of her statement warbled by the alcohol.

What you don't expect is for Jake to take his shot at the same time you do. You both stare at each other over the rims of the tiny glasses. Your faces turn crimson, a mutual understanding passing by in a flash.

Never in your dreams did you expect Jake would also harbor a crush on you. It's been years for you, so long ago you forgot the shape of it until you were in his presence again. But the revelation he also held those emotions at some point makes the stone in your chest strengthen in size, the new information befuddling you.

When did it start? Was it around the same time as you? Does he still feel that way? You ruminate on the quick questions for only a second, knowing none of the answers matter. Jamie would've never allowed it anyway, and still wouldn't. And she's more important.

A pregnant pause lies between you and Jake, even as Heeseung sputters out a shocked laugh and Jamie drinks another shot just for fun.

"Oh damn," he says, "guess we're learning a lot about each other tonight, huh?"

"Shut up, Hee," Jake mutters. He slams the empty glass down near your thigh, and the sudden brush of his hand as he pulls back makes you tingle.

It's from the tequila, you tell yourself with bated breath. Nothing else, nothing at all.

"Yeah, shut up! 's a stupid game anyway," Jamie explains as she stands up. Her body buckles with the equilibrium change, and Jake immediately jumps from the pool to help her regain her balance. "I'm fine, Ikeu!"

That's the tell. She never uses her childhood nickname for Jake unless she's drunk. You smile to yourself and stand up as well, using the sobriety Jamie doesn't have now to help her brother.

Heeseung remains in the pool as you and Jake take Jamie upstairs to sleep it off, wading around again like a baby who hasn't upended all of their bathwater. Your best friend insists she's fine on the trek upstairs, but the way she leans into you both says otherwise.

Jake tucks the bedsheets to her chin, handling her as she thrashes around with a sequence of grumbles spilling from her lips. "Ikeu, let me go to sleep," Jamie mumbles. You laugh to yourself at the state of your best friend as she babbles nonsense. She'll be mopey and hungover tomorrow, but you'll handle that when it comes.

You close the door to her room behind you, shaking your head. "She's gonna act like a kicked puppy in the morning, I know it."

Jake laughs. "And yet she still insists she's not a lightweight. Or, at the very least, a mid-weight with how much of that bottle she drank."

You agree, nodding with a smile. Silence rushes in, the uncertainty of what to say next sitting between you both like a piece of glass you're terrified to break. Do you mention what happened just a few minutes ago in the pool, or let it go? And, more importantly, what does Jake want to do?

Jake coughs quietly, his cheeks flushed. "I should get back to Heeseung. Make sure his drunk ass doesn't drown."

You nod again, bashful. "Yeah. I gotta wash off all this chlorine, anyway."

As you both go to walk in separate directions, you heading to your room and Jake going back downstairs, your fingertips brush. It's the smallest movement, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but the spark that was ignited when he touched your thigh comes back, as all-consuming as it was then.

"See you tomorrow," Jake says over his shoulder, not turning back as he walks down the first few steps, but you can tell he's smiling. Somehow, you always know. You reply with your own acknowledgement, heart hammering as you open and close your door.

That night, you dream of his hand in yours, the liquid courage giving you the right amount of boldness to tell him you want to keep holding it for as long as you can.

"You think you'll make it out of the storm in one piece?" you ask into your phone, walking around the guest room as you listen to Jamie's frustration over the quick food run now halted by the terrible weather. The supermarket bustle muffles Jamie's voice, her words practically passing through a tin can.

"Pretty sure, but the damn car is parked too far. My parents want to wait until it settles down rather than walk into a tsunami, as if I still don't have a headache kicking my ass." You picture her rubbing her temples while she talks, exasperated but with nobody to blame but herself for last night's escapades. "Be glad you don't have to experience their terrible fruit and vegetable puns right now."

You chuckle, flicking at the dust on the windowpane. "You act as if I don't know them all by heart."

Jamie laughs too, probably nodding in the middle of the store aisle like you're right by her side. She sighs when her mother calls her away. "Mom's looking at the funny birthday cards, probably wants to show me one to give Dad next month. I gotta go."

"Alright, see you soon!"

Minutes or hours pass by in a blur, the house quiet save for the rain that patters on the rooftop above. In the instant you throw your phone on the bed after another session of endless scrolling, Jake comes into view, lingering by the doorframe. His down-turned eyes point at his feet while a pout covers the lower half of his face. When he's like this, his disposition is akin to a kid caught with cookie crumbs at the edge of his mouth. "Was that Jamie earlier?"

Was he listening? How long had he been waiting to talk to you?

"Yep," you confirm. "Still stuck in the storm. Hopefully it passes quickly." You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly chilly. The cold of the rain seeps into your skin like it knows you hate the frigid and unrelenting downpour. It plucks all your nerves to their highest frequencies. You think so, anyway.

It can't have anything to do with last night, or this moment being the first time you and Jake have talked since then. It's not like his admission changes anything between you, and your past emotions have no bearing on the present. Being awkward about it, despite your best intentions not to, solves nothing. Yet, you feel the prickle of your anxiety all the same.

Jake's eyes pinch at the corners. "Still freaked out by the weather?"

You shrug, hands clenching to your skin. "Yes and no."

Going back in your memory, you can barely recall the first time you experienced a thunderstorm as a kid outside of how it made you feel. Small, fragile, open to all the elements. It was bad enough life in your parent's home made you feel that way daily, but storms only amplified the insecurities.

That first time you experienced one in the Sim house, a ladybug glued to the glass doors downstairs as the outside world thrashed and rumbled, reminded you even the tiniest beings endure harsh conditions. And you did everything in your power that day to help ensure the creature's survival.

Maybe the nickname stuck because it fit you too well, and it hasn't gone away since for good reason.

Jake walks over, his face now tilted in your direction, and shucks his zip-up hoodie off to wrap around your shoulders. You start to speak, "You don't have to—"

"I want to," he replies, a scoff teetering on the edge in his voice. "Got a million more."

You nod, giving him a soft smile of gratitude. Stuffing your arms through the sleeves, you smell his scent on the fabric. It lingers like all the words you've stamped down. Bergamot and tangerine, with the faintest trace of sea salt.

"You're safe, ladybug." His words are so soft that the clap of thunder accompanying them almost drowns them out. But you think you could hear him even if the lightning came down right next to his face.

"I know," you say, knowing it's never been more true than right now. Yet, you feel something else resting underneath his words, an iceberg you can see past the top of. The sentence eases your mind, yet ramps up a different emotion entirely, one you haven't felt in a long time for him.

"Last night, I—"

"It's fine, Jaeyun," you insist. You shake off whatever he's about to say with a forced giggle. "We've changed. Sure, we both had little crushes on each other back then. It doesn't mean anything now."

"It doesn't?"

"I mean…why does it need to? It would be crazy, anyway. Like it could work now when it didn't then."

Jake's jaw ticks as he smiles, the action as artificial as your previous laugh. "Right. It would be crazy, wouldn't it? To think about you in that way still."

"Yeah, crazy." You don't realize he's stepped forward a few inches until you notice his body in sharper clarity. The long-sleeve Manchester United shirt with a tattered logo on the center, one of his favorites, and how it rises with every inhale and exhale. The shell necklace touching his collarbone, the one you made for him the summer before he started high school.

"So if I said I still feel the same way I did at sixteen—that it's hard not to every time I look at you—would that be crazy, too?"

Your brain becomes hollow, coherent thought and reasoning out of your reach.

The storm continues battering the house, but its strength compares little to the forces stirring in your heart. The desire to hold him close churns in your stomach like the strongest tornado known to man.

It's irrevocably wrong, so why does he still pull you in?

Jake reaches for you, hand pressing to the skin between your lower jaw and neck, and it feels too warm. It makes your body shiver, but he doesn't pull back. He just inches closer, so close his breath ghosts over your face.

His eyes speak with the pleas his mouth can't verbalize. Let me know if I should let you go now before I can't. Tell me to stop thinking about you, once and for all.

You don't stop him. Not when you take the last step to his lips, not when both of your eyes flutter closed, and not when you finally feel his mouth press to yours.

Jake tastes like cherry lip balm with traces of chlorine, a mixture that could not feel more perfect on your tongue. You want to drink it forever now that you've gotten a sip, both the act and sensation long overdue.

You move in sync. His hands find purchase on your hips as you wrap your hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. He grunts against your lips when your tongue presses to the seam of his mouth, and he lets you in eagerly. You've kissed many boys—and a handful of girls—in your life, but nothing compares to this, to Sim Jaeyun.

You're utterly fucked, the implications of your choice clear, but you don't care. It's too right to think of all the reasons it shouldn't be.

You both hear the front door below slam, the sound knocking you both away from each other like a bomb. Jake's eyes open, the irises lust-blown with a fire that mirrors the raging one in your stomach. You don't know what to say in time. The chance flickers by as the rest of the family makes it known they're back.

"Kiddos, we're home!" Jihyun calls from below. Jamie yells something about the traffic being a bitch, and both of her parents chide the profanity so loudly you and Jake chuckle discreetly.

His humor morphs back into raw vulnerability, and he kisses the spot between your eyebrows before whispering, "Meet me back here tonight, yeah? Wanna finish what we started."

You nod with a bitten lip, eager to know what he means as he exits the guest room and walks downstairs. Your heart is lurching, your palms are sweating, but you've never felt more giddy than this moment.

They should terrify you, all the consequences of your next moves that lay at your feet, but you're not scared at all. Not an ounce.

You tiptoe past Jamie's door, a smidge of regret glazing over your excitement about being alone with Jake again. Seven hours after he left you in the guest room, your need consumed you. It was all you thought about in that time flipping through magazines with Jamie and sitting next to her at dinnertime.

Your eyes couldn't help but pass over Jake's at the table when you caught him staring first. His parents were talking about cute memories of all of you, your middle school years specifically, yet your insides were on fire. You were a blaze of obscene proportions as he gazed at your figure.

Now, you're eager to see him, to have a repeat of the scene in the guest room, to know if there's more to the story that's currently unwritten.

Jake opens the door the second you raise your fist to knock on it. Your hand sits in mid-air as he stands there, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. "Thought you'd never show up."

He brings you in with a hand at your waist, and soon enough, he locks the door behind him to have both palms all over you. He tugs your lips between his teeth and kisses you like a starved man, the only salvation being your mouth and body.

Jake's an excellent kisser, holding the right amount of pressure with a level of tenderness in each touch that weakens your knees. He still smells like his lip balm, but there are traces of mouthwash this time, spearmint hitting your tongue as his muscle touches the roof of your mouth.

"I love how you taste," Jake says in between you like a confession. "I can't wait to have more of you."

You moan and squeeze his biceps between your fingers. "Nothing's stopping you, Jaeyun."

Jake tugs at your cotton shorts, wanting them off so much that he makes that want a reality. Your cotton underwear sticks to your legs, arousal drenching the insides of your thighs like another person hasn't turned you on this much solely from kissing. Maybe no one ever has, not like this. Maybe he's that good at this already, transforming you into a puddle for him alone.

Moving you to the edge of his bed, Jake makes the back of your knees knock into his comforter as he undoes his drawstring sweats and yanks his sweater up and over his head. You help him discard what you can, but you're too eager to reattach your lips to his. He can't blame you; he's caused the chasm that is your need, and he has to see it filled.

"You're beautiful, you know that right?" The question tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it, and Jake just runs his hand across your face lovingly and smiles.

"Let's not talk about who's the beautiful one here, yeah?"

He crawls atop of you, the only clothes left on both of you being his underwear and your undergarments, and it's anyone's guess if he'll take them off of you soon or will tease you to the very end. Jake sees the wet ruins of your panties and a cheshire-like grin spreads on his face. "I think I could make you come just like this with the way you're drenching my sheets, baby."

You quirk an eyebrow and rut your hips into his, your underwear brushing the outline of his pulsing cock. You can almost feel the spot that's damp on his own briefs through the fabric of your panties, positive he is also ready to be relieved of his own pent-up desires. "I could say the same to you, Jakey."

Jake grunts at the nickname, one only few people have ever used, and captures your mouth with his again. He rubs his core into yours with hard, languid strokes. Your wetness melds with the hardness of his bulge with each meeting of your hips. You run your nails down his back to prove how good it feels, even if it's just the two of you rutting against each other's clothes. It's carnal how hard and fast you both grind against each other. The two of you want nothing more than to come apart at each other's hands.

There's still the uncertainty there if it's too soon to take it to the last hurdle, with sex and your relationship, whatever that is, but that doesn't matter now. The need to have each other in any way you can drowns out the sound of your doubts and what tomorrow will bring. You can only focus on right now, the end of desire right on the horizon.

"I'm not gonna last much longer, sweetheart." Jake rubs his hands along your ribcage, fingers splayed under your breast. You grip him harder as he says the words, and he smirks as he pants. "Would you like that? Knowing you made me come untouched?"

"More than anything," you admit, his cock hitting your clit in just the right way that has you frothing at the mouth.

His tongue delves deeper into your mouth as he continues to thrust against you, precum smearing down the fabric of his underwear and making it his briefs as soaked as your panties. You're so close, the ridges of him rubbing the velvet walls of you through the materials of your underwear to make you see stars.

"That's it," he growls. "Come for me, baby. It's gonna feel so good."

Those words undo you in that second; the magic of them can't go understated. Your body shudders as you reach the peak and fall off of it in the same second. It's white hot and searing, and you let it take you down as you feel the orgasm seep into your toes.

"Come with me, Jaeyun, please?" you whisper when you have a hint of coherent thought left in you, yearning to see him unravel.

Just like his words crumbled you, yours break him. He whimpers a broken moan as he comes in his underwear, meeting his end with his massive load soaking through and dribbling down across his thighs. Your bodies' essences mix as you keep riding your highs out, and it feels too good to stop until you're too sensitive to continue.

You both sit there in a mess of sweat and cum, unsure how to address that you've both just done that together. It can't go back to the way things were before, the two of you always on a fault-line of teasing each other and living in half-measures around your emotions. How could you?

When he cleans up and lays down next to you, both of you clothed once again, you run your fingertips over the veins of his arm until you're at his shoulder blade. He watches you as your venture higher, and your face heats, suddenly bashful.

"I meant what I said earlier. You're so beautiful, it's incredibly distracting." You run your hand through the ends of Jake's sweaty hair.

"Is your form of pillow talk just compliments?" he jokes partially. "Because I could give you a dozen of those at any time."

"What's yours?" you ask, beaming at his admission.

"Besides doing that again?" You giggle at the reference until he cages you in his arms, his warmth bathing you in gold. "For starters, this."

You whisper about everything and nothing, Jake stopping occasionally to run his lips over the space of your forehead and the crown of your hair. You fall asleep that way in no time, pleased to be on the cusp of something beautiful beginning.

You don't expect to wake up to the sight of Jamie peering down at you, wide-eyed and lips in a firm line. During the night, Jake must have gone to use the bathroom and forgot to lock the door again, and you hadn't noticed.

The sight of her in front of you almost makes you forget you're still entangled with Jake like two vines, legs intertwined and your head nestled on his chest.

Jamie points to Jake's door with a trembling finger, deadly silent, before walking back out of his room.

"What the fuck?" are the first words out of Jamie's mouth. Her face grows darker in that instant, anger overtaking her. "What the actual fuck is the reason I found you up against him like that?"

"Jamie, you gotta relax, please."

"Oh, so I should relax after catching my best friend and little brother practically tonguing each other down?"

The way she emphasizes "little" could make you vomit. She acts like she witnessed you pressed up against the teenage version of him and not the adult he is now. You know she's overdramatic, but she can take it overboard too often; it's one of her fatal flaws to boot.

"Jamie, I swear it was nothing," you lie immediately. "We were just watching a movie after you passed out because we couldn't sleep, and then we must've fallen asleep together. That's all, okay?"

"You didn't do anything?" She looks over the clothes you walked into Jake's room wearing last night, not seeing anything she can speculate over, but still on edge from the scene she's just witnessed. "You swear?"

You nod without realizing. "I swear to God." Good thing you're not a religious person, or a higher power would most likely strike you down on the spot. But you'd do it again to spare Jamie of the fact you did more than your fair share of things with Jake last night.

She huffs, relieved but still agitated. "Okay. Well, just never let that happen again, please. I almost ran out of here ready to pluck my eyes from their sockets and bleach them."

You rub your arms protectively. "Would it be so bad if Jake and I did happen to like each other? See where—"

She puts a finger in between you, making a face like she will in fact vomit. "I was so ready to have Mom's hump-day pancakes and now I can't even think of drinking a glass of orange juice right now after hearing you even suggest that idea to me."

"Jamie, come on," you chide her.

"You come on! It would never work, Y/N. Be realistic!"

That's rich, you jest at her in your mind. "Why? Because he's related to you and I'm not?"

"That's the biggest reason, for sure, but you both are going to school hours away from each other and Jake is drowning in intramurals and labs half the time." She swats away her own words with manic hands. "Why are we even talking about this? It's not gonna happen ever!"

Your heart sinks, the stone that you held in your gut days ago back with a vengeance.

"Tell me you'll stop thinking about this, please."

You sigh and nod, keeping your arms crossed to guard yourself from the promise you've just made Jamie. Your best friend has clipped the beating wings of a promising future with Jake so unceremoniously, you're unsure what to do with that info now, or how you'll present the topic to Jake when he wakes up.

"You coming?" Jamie asks over her shoulder as she descends the staircase, and you're transported back to that first day you arrived at the house for the trip, Jake's mirrored words holding more hope than you realized back then. You follow behind as the seams of your heart rip the muscle in two, sadness seeping into your every pore with each step.

After you all clear your breakfasts from the table, Jamie's parents retreat to their room and Jamie takes her usual midday R&R nap. Jake steps behind you in the kitchen, the coast clear from prying eyes. Nobody's around to witness him cage you in by the sink, eager as he runs his hands up your sides. "You were gone this morning. Where'd you run off to?" he whispers into your ear, and you shiver from his proximity. You're both terrified and tantalized by what Jake does to your body by doing nothing substantial. Just the subtlest act unwinds you.

He makes it difficult to resist him, but you replay your discussion with Jamie from a few brief hours ago in your head. The act helps you solidify your promise in your heart like iron, no matter how much you want to melt into Jake's embrace and forget it all.

"We can't do this, Jaeyun."

"We're not doing anything…not yet."

The second Jake's lips brush your neck, you skitter away and drop your plate in the sink. If he keeps touching you, you'll crumble without another thought, so keeping him at an arm's length is the only option. "I mean it. Last night can't happen again."

"So what? It just meant nothing?" Jake laughs in disbelief, almost like he's waiting for the punchline of the joke you're making just to get a rise out of him.

You frown and bite the inside of your cheek. "I never said that."

"Then what are you saying right now?"

"I'm saying it won't work," you parrot Jamie's words to him, trying to find some objectivity there to stop feeling like you're chewing glass. "Where do you think we will go after this? Long-distance dating back and forth between two colleges? And that's if Jamie doesn't kill us before we get to that point."

"Is that what this is about?" Jake tries to step closer, but you back away in time. "Y/N, I'm not Taeyong. And you're more than just Jamie's best friend to me. I thought I proved that to you yesterday."

He did, in so many little ways that you barely see him like he's Jamie's little brother now. He's just Jake, solid and sweet and so within your reach right now. Yet you can't have him, the fallout from such a choice too catastrophic to verbalize.

"Jaeyun, we have to be realistic." The words feel like toxic waste on your tongue, the pain present under your skin but well-hidden behind your willpower. You can only pray he believes everything you've said up to this point, but a small part hopes he doesn't. That he'll see through it and brave the storm for the both of you.

Unfortunately, the former occurs as Jake's eyes go cold, his jaw sets into sharp lines and his hands go limp at his sides. "Realistic?"

"Yes."

He doesn't fight back or spew insults he's well within his rights to say to you. All he does is walk out of the kitchen with hard stomps. The silence is worse than any profane exclamation he could've thrown out, and that's when you know you've broken your own heart by breaking his.

Jake isn't yours, so why is it so torturous to watch him mingle with another girl, especially one he knows as well as he knows you?

Aria Song, a local veterinary technician and Jake's high school ex-girlfriend, haunts you like a phantom as she wades in the pool like she's always belonged there.

"Jaeyun, stop it!" You hear her squeal, and you want to dunk her head so deep in the water you forget she exists.

Layla tucks her head in your lap as you watch Jake and Aria through the glass doors. He's swimming around his ex-girlfriend's pool lounger like he has no cares in the world. She kicks water at him with her toned legs and a wide grin on her face.

She may be nice enough for Jake to have remained friendly with her since their high school days, but you've not liked her one bit since they broke up and neither has Jamie. But Aria's solid proof to Jamie that you're not chasing after her brother, and therefore she's content to relax by the pool outside and suffer through the younger folks giggling and splashing each other like they're teenagers again.

You couldn't, not without your heart cracking even more than it already has. You thought feigning a stomach bug and deciding to rot on the couch was the best second option, but it only meant you had a semi-adequate front-row seat to Jake's little show that's been going on all afternoon.

He glances at you now and then beyond the panes of glass like he knows you're judging. Like he wants you to be envious of Aria's position.

The worst part is that you are; you're sick with jealousy to the point it's creating bile in the back of your throat. The green monster inside of you rears its head with gnashing teeth and cruel thoughts, and you don't stop it from growing in size.

She's younger, prettier, not intricately tied to his older sister the way you are. It's so much easier for him to not bother with you, to pick a safer option that isn't riddled with roadblocks. And he's clear he's chosen from the way he fawns over his guest with intense eyes.

Layla nuzzles your side as you grimace, stopping you from attempting to burn a hole in the pool attendees' heads with your stare. "I'm being ridiculous aren't I, girly girl?"

You take the tilt of Layla's head as confirmation you're acting crazy. You're about to take your blanket and pillow back up to the guest room when Jake walks into the house, body sopping wet and creating tiny puddles on the tile.

"You're gonna have to mop up the floor," you say to break the ice, despite being irritated with him for consorting with a perceived enemy.

Jake only nods and moves to the kitchen without another look in your direction, grabbing two water bottles from the fridge and then slamming it shut.

Before he leaves, he walks over and presses one of the plastic bottles in your palm, fingertips brushing yours. "Hydration will help with the stomachache."

With that, he leaves out the back door. Now, you're more confused than annoyed. What does it mean, one minute unable to speak to you and then caring for your wellbeing the next? It's a cacophony of whiplash, for sure.

You hear a cough behind you that takes you out of your ruminations, and you see Jihyun smiling at you before entering the living room, rubbing behind Layla's ears. "Ladybug, you two are something else."

You shake your head and pop open the water to gulp down. When you've taken a hefty sip, you say, "We're nothing Mrs. Sim. We made that clear already."

"Please don't call me that, honey. Mrs. Sim is my mother-in-law and you know that."

You chuckle. "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about."

Jihyun raises her hands and shakes her head. "I didn't say you were anything…" She walks closer and sets a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "But if you were, this family would be more than better off with you in it. Whether or not some of us see that right now, it's true."

Before you can ask her what she means, she saunters back towards her bedroom with Layla following in tow; your brain imprints her knowing grin to memory.

The Sims can be incredibly cryptic when they want to be.

Aria spends dinner with all of you, and Jake even invites Heeseung over to liven up the mood that you and Jamie sour by remaining quiet. You can't help it; Aria is too bold, too bright, too everything you can't give Jake right now.

You spend that night with the family stoic and deadpan, only conversing with everyone in small sentences. You barely say goodbye to Aria and Heeseung when they take their leave, nodding at her once and not again as she walks out. Jamie notices the tension in your body, but you don't want to talk. You don't give her the time to ask. You just walk into the guest room without another word and hide away, hoping to finish the rest of the trip with no more issues. Your best friend might call you a buzzkill, but it's better than going against her wishes.

Another hour rolls by, and when you're on the verge of sleeping, Jake barrels into your room without closing the door.

"Do you care at all?" Jake huffs out, chest rising and falling fast. He tries to remain quiet out of your fear he'll wake Jamie in the next room, but you can tell from the tone in his voice that he's breaking his own resolve.

You rise from your bed and quickly shut the door, confusion overtaking you. "What are—"

"I spent all of this morning ready to burn under the sun without SPF trying to prove a point because you wanted me to be realistic, and you said nothing. All day and since the second Aria came by, you've had this terrible pout on your face. What do you want from me?"

You know exactly what you want. Maybe it's better to let it out now and give Jake some clarity, even if it'll kill him on the inside like it's doing to you.

"I want you to be happy," you say, "but I realized pretty quickly I want that happiness to be with me." You raise your arms weakly, tears threatening to spill over. "But I can't. Jamie is too important, and she's made it perfectly clear she thinks this would be too weird for her."

"What do you think?" Jake steps forward, hair tickling your face from how close he is to your body. That charge between you reignites; the current that's kept you inextricably linked hums like a live wire once again. "What do you want?"

You sigh, taking a deep breath, unable to swallow another unspoken word. "I want you. Of course I want you."

Jake smirks softly and captures his hand in yours, fingers intertwining. "Then have me. Have me in whatever way you want, as long as I get to have you back."

The time between Jake's last words and now, the two of you in a tangle of clothes, feels like a lifetime. The previous time you were intimate like this is nothing compared to right now. Where that was frantic and fast-paced with undergarments stuck to sweaty, sexually charged skin, this is slow and reverent. Jake undresses you like he's afraid you'll take back what you said and did just an hour ago. As if you could ever.

There's no way you can change your mind now; his charms have unknotted all of your left brain's logic.

He kisses your neck and collarbones with tenderness. He leans down to kiss the tops of both of your naked breasts, and it's like he's striking the match that will burn you alive.

You want to savor the moment like he clearly is, but it's too much and not enough, two sides of the same coin. You arch into him on his bed, your legs intertwining with his. "Jaeyun, if you don't do something right now, I will combust."

Jake chuckles and sucks one of your nipples in his mouth the second after you command him, biting and teasing the bud with his teeth, and your body bows even harder off of his sheets. The pleasure builds like a wave, and he's barely done anything.

Hedonistically, he slides his fingers down to your aching clit. Essence gathers between his fingers as he runs his hand across your folds eagerly. "You're dripping," he mumbles, his lips resting a breath from yours. "So warm and wet."

You moan and ride his fingers, his figure-eights on your swollen bud building you up further.

"I want to make you come, more than anything," Jake starts before kissing your lips between every other word. "But I want to feel you around me when you do it."

His naked body slots against yours when he moves in closer. His biceps, thighs, cock, and fingertips cling to you like it's your own skin, but it's only a fraction of how close you want him to be.

You've spent so long hiding in the shadows and denying your feelings for him, and now that you have him, you need to cherish every millisecond of time before you're forced back into that corner of the world he didn't occupy.

You clench around nothing, your walls fluttering from the way Jake's tip slides against your clit agonizingly slow. He watches it all, how you writhe and beg with your body, and he adores it.

"So beautiful." The resounding breathless chuckle on his tongue could be as loud as a gunshot with the way it rings in your ears. "If I knew how pretty you'd look like this," he starts, "I'd have made you mine a long time ago."

You gasp as his thumb replaces the head of his cock on your clit, rubbing small but intentional circles there. "Do you want me to be?" you ask, dazed.

In that second between your question and his response, he slides the entirety of his cock into you until he bottoms out, pelvic bones meeting like hands in prayer. "What do you think?"

You want to pinch yourself in this moment, ensure yourself it's real as he moves. He holds the back of your neck with one hand as he leans down to press his lips to yours. His hips give a sharp thrust that has you moaning into his mouth. You find purchase on his naked skin, running your palms along the lines of his shoulder blades down to the smooth planes of his hips.

This can't be another dream, can it?

"You're perfect," you gasp as he thrusts again. "How are you real?"

Jake smiles down at you, mystified by the question being asked by you and not him. He takes one of your hands in his to press to his chest. You hear the frantic tempo of his heartbeat, the sound a messy drumbeat that makes your own heart clench. "Is that real enough?"

It was never supposed to be like this, you and him. But it's too beautiful for the most extravagant words, thoughts, or feelings to describe.

"More than enough," you say with a breathless giggle. You pull him down for another kiss, tangling your fingers in the ends of his hair.

It's holy how much he cherishes you and the experience of having you. He doesn't press too hard or take too much, giving as well as he gets it. When you bite down on his neck, leaving a mark that for sure will bruise soon, he runs his fingers along your burning clit, running lovingly tight circles there to prove he enjoys your possessive acts. When you tell him how good it feels, he moves faster and deeper, returning your praise with more pleasure.

"It feels so good, baby. You're like heaven around me," he swears. "Tell me how it is for you."

No coherent words come to mind, but you settle on, "So fucking good, Yunnie. More than that even." The words sound jumbled off of your tongue, and he smirks from how fucked you already are on his cock. But the smile isn't condescending or smug, just teasing in the most loving way.

He's safe and open and yours, and you can't fathom how you've become so lucky to receive the chance to be his in return.

You suck him in eagerly as you near your release, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the screams you can't release into the air. Not unless you want to wake up the entire house.

"I know you're close," Jake grunts. His hand comes up to the headboard for leverage as he slams into you harder, his other hand stroking your clit with more pressure. "Come around me, baby. Show me what it's like when you let go."

You show him with all your might when you shatter into the millions of pieces he's created of you with his passion. Your eyes scrunch shut as your mouth falls open, jaw slacking from the pleasure that overloads your entire being. Body limp and face buried in Jake's pecs, you think about all the times you've spent in secret, wanting and wishing for him, whether or not you knew it.

Now, you know too well the way he envelops your soul, and you never want to stop knowing him like this.

Jake comes undone soon after, warmth flooding your body with his release as he moans in your ear about how beautiful you are alongside a barrage of curses. "Holy shit, I'm still coming," he swears, another minute spent with his body thrusting up into yours to release what's left of his cum into you. You could spend forever here, you think, wrapped up in each other and this man who is now yours lost in ecstasy.

Jake finally pulls out when he's exhausted all of his energy, and beads of pearly white cum drip out of you from the separation. You don't clean it up, and neither does he. You're both too spent and satiated to care.

"Hi," you croak, head resting on Jake's shoulder when he gets comfortable in his bed and pulls the covers over you. You're tucked up to your chin, protected but still vulnerable in the aftermath of your orgasm.

Jake grins and tucks a stray sweaty hair from your face. "Hi to you too, beautiful."

When he continues to stroke your hair like it's the most precious thing he's ever touched, you think all the consequences in the world are worth this. You believe, without a doubt, that every price you'll pay for his affection is worthwhile.

"You and Jake."

Jamie says the three words like they don't belong in the same sentence. She sits on the dining chair across from you and Jake, both your hands interlocked in front of her like you're her parents sitting down to reprimand her. But it's the other way around, clearly.

Today, she probably expected to find you both making breakfast again, like it was a normal day through and through. Even when you told her you both needed to speak to her, she trotted over to the dining table like nothing was wrong. And nothing was wrong in your eyes, but you knew Jamie's opinion would change the second you told her the truth.

"Yes."

"Dating?"

"Yes." It feels so good to say. You bite back the smile that threatens to tug your lips up. You should feel guilty for betraying Jamie the way you have, going against her word so shamefully, but you can't. It's not a sin you've committed, or a traitorous act that can't be forgiven.

Jamie slaps her hands against her knees, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "So, the talk we had meant nothing, clearly."

"It did, J. I just—"

"Wait, what talk?" Jake squeezes your palm once, showing his concern that you didn't tell him about whatever Jamie is referencing.

"That day before breakfast. She found me the morning after she went grocery shopping with your parents…and I said I'd stay away from you because she asked me to."

"You never told me that," Jake responds sadly. The blush creeping up his neck shows how embarrassed he must be by his actions afterward. You don't blame him for a second of it, though. It all worked out, anyway.

Your best friend huffs, prepared to vomit. "Don't talk to her like you know her."

"I do, Jamie." His tone drops, the soothing aura he had for you replaced with irritated admonishment of his older sister. You can tell he's exasperated from her judgement already. You squeeze his palm back to ask him silently to loosen up, and he unclenches his jaw to prove he's listening to you. He always seems to know what to do to make sure he is.

It's not love yet, but you're so close, it hurts.

"Please stop acting like you're the only one who does," Jake says finally.

"Really? Did you hold her hand the first time she got her period? Or when her and that douche boyfriend in sophomore year broke up with her right before Valentine's Day? Oh, let's not forget how she stole me a pack of Plan B during our senior trip to Spain."

"Jamie!" you shout, face turning red. "What the fuck?"

Jake just laughs sadly. "You may think you have a leg up on me, and that could be true. I don't have the history you both do. But I've cared about her for so long, longer than you may think." He sighs and turns to look at you, a small smile shared between you both as he strokes your skin with his thumb. "If you have to hate me or us for the way we feel, so be it."

"Stop acting like you're the mature one here!" Jamie shrieks. "Do you not understand how fucked this is?"

"You're the only one who thinks that way," you cut in. "You're making it more of a big deal than it has to be when we're all grown adults."

The scrape of her chair and stomp of her feet towards the backyard's glass door signifies your betrayal in her eyes. And the slam of the door against its metal lining exemplifies her burning rage. She would've yelled if not for her parents sleeping soundly upstairs, you know it.

You follow quickly behind, letting go of Jake's hand to run out to the backyard and follow her, passing Layla on the way to the door. Jake knows not to follow, and you appreciate him all the more for it. The end of the conversation lies between you and Jamie now.

You find her sitting with her knees tucked to her chest, overlooking the backyard fence and facing away from the pool. You cautiously sit down next to her, and she doesn't bristle or immediately scoot away. She's just quiet, unsure, and somehow that feels worse than her exploding at you right now.

"You know I love you, right?" you begin with that question because it feels the most apt. If she truly knew what you were risking, she wouldn't take your feelings or her brother's in this way, like it's a game both of you are playing with blind eyes.

She nods, silent and staring down at the surrounding grass.

"I really like him, Jamie." Your voice, as well as your eyes, flood with tears. It cracks on the sounds her name creates, and that makes her own eyes well up too.

"I never said you didn't."

"But you act like it's some fling. It kills me to see you hurt, but I can't put how I feel on hold anymore and neither can he." The words are both a relief to your own pain and an ache in your chest. Jamie's never been unable to feel the way she does, and you've never stopped her from doing so. But it's never been about her.

"I just don't want to lose you if it ends badly," Jamie confesses. She finally turns her gaze on you, irises glassy and the white of her eyes becoming red. "I can't."

You laugh sadly and pull her in close, shocked she could think such a thing. It gives way to understanding the fears Jamie has that're hidden beneath all the bluster. "That's never gonna happen, J, I promise. And I wouldn't be doing this if I thought your brother wasn't worth it."

Those two words—your brother—cause her to fake a gag. "Did it really have to be him, though? He doesn't brush his teeth until after breakfast, you know this."

You both share a chuckle, heads knocking into each other's and knees touching like nothing has changed. 

In a way, it doesn’t have to. With the silence, you feel her anger ebb away, replaced with a resigned acceptance that she can't change this; it's too late, and she'll have to go with it even if she's against it.

But some things will never change. You're still best friends, and you’ll always have each other, despite being Jake’s significant other now and her being his sister. They’re not mutually exclusive, and that’s okay. Above all else, you’ll be the one person she can turn to forever, and vice versa. That's how it's always supposed to be and will be.

"Josh finally wised up, thank God. He'll be coming to the house in a few days to meet my folks, so you and my brother better be on your best behavior!" Jamie waggles a finger in your direction as she drives further down the road to the university. She doesn't look at you directly, but the instruction is clear, for you and your boyfriend to be nice to her new flavor of the week, and it makes it that much more hilarious.

"Aren't we always?" You wiggle your eyebrows despite her not seeing, and her finger becomes a full-fledged hand in your face. You giggle, taking that hand in yours. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes, you freak. You act like the last time you saw him was a thousand years ago."

It's been a month and two days since you've been in the same space as Jake, but who's counting? You fell asleep on the phone together last night, so it wasn't as though you went without him for too long, but physical cohabitation was another thing entirely.

Happy didn't explain the emotion you felt when Jamie recommended picking Jake up from school on the way to her parent's, even if it added an hour and a half to the drive. She knew as well as you did how much you missed him. That didn't stop her from teasing you about it incessantly, though.

You shrug and put her hand back in her lap, not denying her exaggeration. Your heart thrums harder with every minute that counts down to your arrival.

Jake's dorm hall appears through the thicket of trees. Small pockets of students walk out of the building holding beach bags and other luggage to take to their cars. Finally, emerging from the sea of people, Jake appears. His mess of floppy hair you'd recognize anywhere, the locks almost falling to his shoulders. He dons a long-sleeved shirt that hides every beautiful line of the body you know so well by now, and you think he hasn't changed at all. Still beautiful, still yours.

You barely wait for the car to stop before you get out. Your feet carry you with the speed of a thousand strikes of lightning. Unbothered by the way your ankles and thighs burn as you run faster, all that matters is the smile that widens on your boyfriend's face when he sees you.

Jake catches you in his arms after you leap into them. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and squeeze his lower half. The Sim house used to be one of the few places you found solace, but it's just not true anymore. Now, it's in Jake too, his love the greatest peace you've ever known.

Jake plants kisses all over the crown of your head before meeting your lips, the taste of spearmint gum coating your tongue. You giggle mid-liplock, and Jake smiles brightly down at you. "Hi."

"Hi," you respond before pressing your mouth to his again.

"Okay, horndogs! We need to leave soon before all that braised pork goes to waste!" You both separate and turn to see Jamie with her arms crossed and a close-lipped smile on her face. She's not angry or put off by the sight before her, her best friend and little brother entangled like vines. If anything, the spark in her eyes is all for show, her happiness hidden under the surface, even with the added snarky commentary.

You used to think that there were two certainties in the world. But now, they're accompanied by another truth.

No matter how many trials and tribulations you go through, Jamie will always be your best friend. Your best friend often gets what she wants—although she couldn't stop you from falling for her brother. And you are head over heels for Sim Jaeyun, forever and always.

── .✦ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 (𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘):

@lovetaroandtaemin @filmnings @innocygnet @jaylaxies @xylatox @xomakara @gyubookeries @tinycatharsis @prkhaven @hannieoftheyear @frenchkisstheabyss @lovenha7 @wonberries @lyks02 @seokjinthescientist @icatpjs @kristynaaah @ikeuheartz @enhaslxt @jakeznii @heebear @immelissaaa @riqomi @universallyllamatimetravel @enhxlvr @jakesaverse @omglivss

© 𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗨𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾, 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗒 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌!

[heestruck]

BAD DESIRE ; Lee Heeseung

synopsis ; It was never meant to be more than a secret. But between late night kisses, and everything they never said, she fell harder than she should have. And he let her. Now they’re both left chasing something that was never built to last.

In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided. with his raging addiction, and her undying love for him, they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?

pairing ; student!fem reader x addict!heeseung

genre ; smut, angst

warnings ; drug use, and lots of it, heeseung using, reader smoking/attempting to use, emotional abuse, lying, kinda cheating if you squint, gaslighting, p in v smut, pet names, virgin reader, inexperienced reader, degrading, praise, unprotected sex (be safe pls), oral fem rec, like... kinda breeding kink, heeseungs lowkey possessive, heeseung is lowkey manipulative, reader is really naive, slight drug glorification, heeseung and reader kinda don't like each other at first, arguing, heeseungs a major asshat, they yell at each other sometimes, very will they wont they/back and forth, like I cannot stress how much heeseung is in the wrong here, let me know if i'm missing anything

do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. !!! there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.

I also CANNOT stress enough that this is purely a work of fiction, this story does not reflect against the real Lee Heeseung.

wc ; 22k 

read below the cut!

The lecture hall hums with quiet conversation as your professor’s voice fades into the background, the final slide of the presentation still glowing on the screen. You close your notebook with a soft snap, already organizing your mental to-do list for the night: finish your reading for psych, review your flashcards, maybe rewrite your biochem notes. 

As always, you're the first to have everything packed and neat, your pens color-coded, your planner tucked under your arm. “God, y/n, you’re like a walking academic weapon,” a voice teases from your right. You glance up to see Nina, your roommate, tossing her long curls over one shoulder as she stuffs her laptop into her bag. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smile, slinging your tote over your shoulder.

“It is a bad thing,” she says, widening her eyes playfully. “You need to touch grass, or at least touch a vodka cran.” You laugh, shaking your head, but she’s already leaning closer with a mischievous look on her face. “There’s a party tonight off-campus. A few of our friends are going, Kira, Wren, Koda, just a chill thing. Music, drinks, maybe a little dancing.” She nudges your arm. “You in?”

Normally, you’d say no. You’ve turned down more party invites than you can count. But something in Nina’s tone, or maybe the way the late afternoon sun filters through the windows and paints the classroom in gold, makes you pause. You think about the endless cycle of lectures and labs. The four color-coded exam prep calendars on your wall. The silence of your room after everyone else has gone out.

“Yeah,” you say, surprising even yourself. “Why not?” Nina’s mouth drops open in mock shock. “Who are you and what have you done with my roommate? I didn’t even have to get on my knees and beg!” You just laugh again, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not promising anything wild. I’ll come, I’ll dance, I’ll hydrate. That’s it.”

“Perfect,” she grins, grabbing your arm as you walk toward the exit. “You’re going to look so cute. Don’t worry, I already know exactly what you’re wearing.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The bass hits before you even step inside.

The house is already pulsing with bodies and strobing lights. Smelling like cheap beer, too much cologne, and the unmistakable scent of a college party deep in its prime. Mina’s got a hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the crowd like she’s on a mission, her glossy lips already curved in excitement. “You look so good,” she says over her shoulder, practically yelling. “Like, who is she good.”

You tug your jacket tighter with a small smile. It’s not nerves, you’re just not used to feeling like this. Not used to the way the black ripped jeans hug your legs, the way your fitted crop top clings to your frame. Hair down, just enough effort to look like you didn’t try at all. The moment you step into the living room, the lights flashing soft pinks and purples, a voice cuts through the chaos. “Y/N! Oh my god, babe, look at you!” Wren comes flying toward you with open arms, all bright eyes and glittery eyeshadow, wrapping you in a one-armed hug while still balancing a red Solo cup. “You look so hot,” she says, already pulling back to get a full look at you. “Like, I’d kiss you hot.”

“Same,” Kira calls from the couch, where she’s sitting sideways in someone’s lap like she owns the place. “You’re giving mysterious bad bitch and I’m obsessed.” “Seriously,” adds Koda, who’s perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and sipping some blue drink out of a mason jar. “If I saw you walk into a party and didn’t know you? I’d be too intimidated to talk to you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re all ridiculous.” “And you’re stunning,” Mina says, giving your waist a quick squeeze. “Now, drinks?” As if on cue, Wren jumps up and heads toward the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen. “We’ve got vodka, tequila, mystery punch… ooh, and something that tastes like peach rings.”

“I’ll just do water,” you say quickly, holding up a hand. “I’m good.”

Four pairs of eyes snap to you in unison. “Y/N,” Kira says, scandalized. “You wore that top and came to this party and think you’re getting away with water?” Koda laughs. “Girl, you agreed to come. That means at least one fun drink.”

Mina reappears with a bottle of something pink and barely fizzy, holding it out to you. “Light. Not even strong. You’ll barely taste it. It’s like a Capri Sun.” You hesitate, but only for a second. The bottle is cold in your hand, the condensation slick on your fingers. One sip won’t hurt. It tastes like candy. Sweet and a little fake. Easy. “There she goes,” Wren says, raising her cup.

“You’re officially fun now,” Kira adds, looping her arm through yours. The music shifts, bass vibrating in your chest. Someone yells something in the next room. Outside, people are already spilling onto the porch, drinks and laughter echoing into the night. You feel it in your skin, that slow buzz of being alive, being here, with the girls who make everything feel lighter.

But you still feel an unsettling feeling creep up the back of your neck. Maybe because you don’t notice the eyes watching you from across the room.

Not yet.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The bathroom reeks of bleach, stale smoke, and whatever cheap cologne the guy before them doused himself in. Heeseung wipes his nose with the back of his hand, sniffing once, slow and deep. The burn is already fading, replaced with the familiar clarity and a weightless buzz under his skin.

Outside the door, the music thrums like a second heartbeat. Sunghoon leans against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his lips. “You know one day your brain’s gonna just leak out your nose, right?” Heeseung shrugs, eyes half-lidded. “Better out than rotting in there.” Jay laughs, pulling the door open to let the sound of the party spill in again. “You two sound like you’ve had this conversation before.” There’s a pause as the two exchange a glance. “We have,” Sunghoon says. “Every time he does something dumb.” His words accompanied by an eye-roll that comes to him naturally, “Which is often,” Heeseung adds with a grin, snagging the cigarette tucked behind Sunghoon’s ear and lighting it like it’s his.

They step out, smoke trailing behind them, the heat and noise of the party rushing in all at once. Heeseung’s eyes flick lazily over the crowd, bodies pressed too close, red cups in every hand, neon lights catching on sequins and sweat. Sunghoon elbows him. “You gonna dance tonight, or just brood in the corner like Batman again?” “I’ll dance when hell freezes and you get laid,” Heeseung mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Ouch,” Sunghoon says with a mock wince. “Low blow. Even for you.”

Jay doesn’t laugh.

He’s staring at something, no, someone. Eyes locked across the room, jaw slightly slack, like he forgot how to act. Heeseung catches it immediately. “Dude,” he says flatly. “You good?” Jay doesn’t respond, causing Heeseung to follow his gaze. She’s standing with a group of girls near the kitchen, laughing at something, her drink cradled in one hand. Her hair catches the light, eyes wide and sparkling in that way that’s too fucking pure for this place. Black jeans. Black top. Sweet face, too clean for the party grit.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, stop staring at her like a fucking perv.” Jay finally snaps out of it. “She’s just… I don’t know, man. She’s got-”

“What?” Heeseung cuts in, tone biting. “That good girl trying to be bad energy? The innocent preppy type who probably says ‘sorry’ when she bumps into furniture?” Sunghoon snorts. Jay shrugs, unfazed. “She’s cute.”

“She’s boring,” Heeseung says immediately, taking another drag. “Can already tell. Probably straight-A’s, runs on caffeine and validation, thinks this party is some edgy detour in her perfect little life plan.”

“You got all that from one look?” Sunghoon raises a brow. “I’ve seen that type before,” Heeseung mutters. “They don’t stay.” Jay watches her again. “Still wouldn’t mind finding out.” Heeseung doesn’t reply, but his eyes linger just a little too long this time. Something about her smile makes him twitch. Like she doesn’t belong here, and for some reason, that pisses him off more than anything else.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You’re laughing as Wren spins you around, both of you stumbling through a fit of giggles. The music’s loud, the floor slightly sticky under your shoes, and the lights paint everything in neon. It’s the first party you’ve let yourself really enjoy in... well, ever. Koda hands you another drink, something sugary, and you take a cautious sip before letting yourself be pulled back into the small crowd of dancers.

You move with Kira and Wren, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders, swaying to the beat. It’s easy to forget the stress of deadlines and grades here, wrapped in the warmth of your friends and the hazy buzz of the night.

“Dude, you’ve been staring at her for like ten minutes,” Heeseung mutters, leaning against the wall, eyes following the glow of the neon lights. “What, you suddenly into honor roll girls now?” Jay smirks, eyes still fixed on you as you laugh and twirl with your friends. “She’s just… different.” Sunghoon snorts into his drink. “Different how? She’s got two arms and two legs like everyone else.”

“She’s not like the other girls here,” Jay says, straightening a little. “She’s not sloppy, not trying to start drama. She looks like she’s actually having fun.” Heeseung scoffs. “Yeah, because she probably drank half a white claw and hit her sugar quota for the week.” Jay grins. “You’re just mad you have a type and it’s emotionally unavailable.” Sunghoon lets out a wheeze. “He’s not wrong.”

Heeseung glares at both of them. “Nah, I’m just saying, girls like her don’t come to parties like this unless it’s a pity invite. She’s not gonna go for you, Jay. Especially not with that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“The one that says, ‘I’m trying to hit it before the night ends.’” Jay rolls his eyes. “Okay, sure, I wouldn’t mind that. But I’m not an asshole. I just wanna talk to her. She seems cool.” Sunghoon nudges Heeseung. “Translation: he wants to hit it, but he’ll settle for a couple of texts and a chance to pretend he reads books.” Heeseung exhales a laugh, tapping ash off his cigarette. “Alright, lover boy. Go shoot your shot. Just don’t cry when she says you’re not her ‘type.’” Jay ignores them both, already peeling off the wall. “You two can stay here being bitter. I’m gonna go say hi.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Heeseung mutters. “Take the rejection like a man,” Sunghoon calls after him with a grin.

You’re mid-laugh when someone steps into your circle. “Hey,” he says, smiling like he’s known you for years. “Sorry to interrupt, I just had to come over and tell you… you look amazing tonight.” You pause, blinking up at him. He’s tall, casually dressed, but something about his smile is disarming. Genuine. Your friends glance at him, then at you, smirking behind their drinks.

“Oh,” you say, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

“I’m Jay,” he offers, holding out a hand. You shake it. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says smoothly. “I hope this doesn’t come off weird, but I’ve kinda been watching you and your friends for a while.” You raise a brow. “Not in a creepy way,” he adds quickly, laughing. “You just look like you’re having the best time.” You laugh, unsure how to respond. “And, you know,” he continues, “you’re kind of the most gorgeous person in this room.”

That gets your cheeks to warm. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” Jay chuckles. “Life’s short.” Then he leans in a little, voice lower. “I’m not gonna lie and pretend I don’t wanna get to know you in every sense. But I also get that it's not everyone’s vibe.” Your expression must shift, because he adds quickly, “No pressure. I just figured I’d shoot my shot.” You lift an eyebrow, but you’re smiling. “I don’t really do the hookup thing.”

Jay’s eyes flicker, disappointment, maybe, but brief. “Totally fair. In that case, I could always use a new hot friend that has killer dance moves.” That earns a soft laugh from you. “You’re smooth.”

“I try,” he says, shrugging. “So... can I still get your number? No expectations.” You nod, handing him your phone. He types quickly and hands it back, slipping his own into his pocket. “You wanna dance with us?” you ask, tipping your head toward your friends. Jay grins, “Thought you’d never ask.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It’s been a couple of weeks since the party, and somehow, Jay has become a fixture in your life.

He fits weirdly well with your friends, easygoing, funny, never tries too hard. Koda teases him constantly, Wren talks music with him like they’re soulmates, and Kira insists he’s basically the sixth member of your group chat. You didn’t expect him to blend in so seamlessly, but you’ve found yourself laughing a little more since he started hanging around.

Tonight, he invited you out to a local concert. You weren’t sure at first, small venue, grungy vibe, loud music wasn’t exactly your typical scene but he promised it would be fun. Said some of his friends were going, too. You agreed, mostly because it sounded like a decent Friday night, and Jay had been nothing but good company.

You arrive with him just as the opening set’s starting, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Jay gives your hand a brief squeeze as he pulls you through the people, heading toward a cluster of guys by the wall. “That’s them,” he says, nodding. “Heeseung and Sunghoon.”

You spot them immediately. Sunghoon is the first to notice you, his hair dark, pierced lip, leaning casually with a beer in hand. He smiles, straightening up. “Jay’s plus-one, huh?” he says, giving you a once-over, not in a sleazy way, just curious. “Nice to meet you.”

You smile, warm as ever. “You too. I’m Y/N.” Sunghoon tips his beer toward you. “Cool name.” And then your eyes drift left. And time sort of stops.

He’s leaning against the wall, one boot propped against the concrete behind him, arms crossed over his chest. Messy dark hair, sharp jawline, silver rings catching the low light. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t move. Just looks at you.

“Oh,” you say before you can help it. Jay gestures between you. “This is Heeseung.” Heeseung gives a single nod. “Hey.” His voice is low, rough around the edges. You clear your throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Nice to meet you.” He doesn’t say anything else, just holds your gaze for a second longer than necessary before looking away, like he’s already bored of you.

You blink, shaken just enough to feel it. Because he’s gorgeous. Like, unfairly gorgeous. But it’s more than that. There’s something about the way he carries himself, he seems so detached, and unreadable, like nothing really touches him, and for some reason, it sticks with you. 

The music picks up and Jay starts chatting with Sunghoon, joking about some old band they saw live. You try to focus on their banter, try to enjoy the show and for the most part, you do.

But every once in a while, your eyes drift sideways. Just quick glances. Just curiosity. You’re subtle about it, at least, you think you are. Heeseung doesn’t look at you, doesn’t smile, doesn’t even move much. Just leans there, stoic and silent like he couldn’t care less about the music or the crowd or you. But he sees it.

He catches every glance. And he doesn’t let it show, but your eyes aren’t the only ones wandering.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The line to the bathroom is long, but thankfully it moves fast. You’re in and out within minutes, winding your way back through the dim hallway toward the venue floor when someone steps out of the crowd and cuts you off.

“Hey, pretty thing,” the guy says, reeking of beer and something sharp underneath. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You here alone?” You freeze. Your first instinct is to be polite, a soft no, a quick smile, excuse yourself and walk away. But when you try to step around him, he blocks your path, one hand brushing your arm. “Don’t be shy,” he adds, voice lowering. “You were lookin’ at me earlier, weren’t you?” Your stomach twists. “I wasn’t.. excuse me.”

You glance back toward the crowd, hoping maybe Jay’s nearby, or anyone, really but it’s too loud, too dark, too many bodies in the way. The guy steps closer, and suddenly your pulse is in your throat. You take a step back, but the hallway feels too narrow now, the music from the concert a distant thump behind you. You don’t know what to say and you don’t even get the chance to think of something because, suddenly, he’s being ripped away from you.

One second, the guy is looming over you. The next, he’s slammed up against the wall with a sharp thud, a hand fisting in his collar. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Heeseung growls, jaw tight with fury. Your eyes widen. The guy holds his hands up, stammering, “I-I didn’t mean anything-” Heeseung shoves him once, hard, then lets him go. “Then walk away before I mean something.” The guy bolts without another word.

And just like that, it’s quiet again aside from the music still thumping from the venue. You and Heeseung stand alone in the dim hallway, the silence heavier than it should be. Finally, he looks at you. “You good?” he asks, but the words are mechanical. No concern in his voice. Just a blunt check-in. He doesn’t soften his expression, if anything it hardens.

You nod. “Yeah… I think so. Thank you.” You expect him to walk away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a slow step toward you. You feel the shift in the air like pressure behind your eyes. His eyes rake over you, not with hunger, not exactly. Almost like he’s trying to figure you out, and already doesn’t like the answer. “I don’t get it,” he mutters, almost to himself. You blink. “What?” He steps closer. “Girls like you…” He chuckles once, humorless. “You play dress-up for the night, think you’re bold for showing up to places like this. But it’s all pretend, isn’t it?”

You don’t respond, you can’t. His voice is low and steady, but it cuts like a knife. “You don’t belong here,” he adds. “And you know it.” He moves in just a little more, close enough that you can feel the heat of him, his words brushing your skin.

“You should stick to safe things, princess.” You’re frozen, breath shallow. He’s staring right at you, and for a moment, his eyes drop straight to your lips. The tension swells, thick and unbearable. Then his expression shifts. That edge of something cruel curling at the corner of his mouth. “Before something bites back.”

He brushes past you without another word, his shoulder bumping into yours hard enough to knock you slightly off-balance, and he doesn’t look back. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You knew you shouldn’t have come.

Jay had texted that it wasn’t a party, just a small hangout with “the guys,” whatever that meant. You figured you’d sit on a couch, maybe order some pizza, suffer through video games you didn’t understand. Easy enough. But now you’re standing in Sunghoon’s living room, and the first thing you see is Heeseung perched low on the couch, head ducked, dragging a line of coke off the glass coffee table like it's nothing.

His hair is darker now, richer, nearly black. It hangs messily in his eyes, but you catch the flicker of them through the fringe as he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand and leans back, lazy and unbothered. You freeze in the doorway, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. You hadn’t seen him since the concert. “Yo,” Heeseung says, tossing a small plastic bag across the table to Jay without looking. “You bringing her around now?” Jay catches it with one hand, unfazed. “She wanted to come.”

Heeseung’s gaze lifts slowly, dragging up your legs, your torso, your face. Not like he’s checking you out, more like he’s dissecting you. “You want a line, sweetheart?” he asks, voice dry, already knowing the answer. Your lips part in surprise. “No. I’ve never done that. And I’m not going to.” He snorts, ironically this time and leans forward, elbows on his knees, his grin a slow, sharp cut. “Didn’t think so,” he mutters as he rubs the remaining powder from beneath his nose. “You look like the kind of girl who cries when she gets a parking ticket.”

You stiffen, heart skittering in your chest. “Jesus, Heeseung,” Sunghoon cuts in from the kitchen, cracking open a beer. “Can you chill for like five minutes? You don’t gotta scare off every girl that walks through the door.” Heeseung just shrugs. “I’m not scaring her. I’m educating her.”

“Yeah, well, educate yourself on shutting the fuck up,” Sunghoon fires back, walking over and smacking the back of his head with the flat of his hand. Heeseung swats him away without real force, rolling his eyes. “Touch me again and I’ll break your wrist.”

“You’d cry before you tried,” Sunghoon retorts, falling onto the couch beside him with a grin. You don’t say anything, standing awkwardly at the edge of the room while Jay nudges your shoulder and gives you a small smile, like ‘sorry about them’. “I vote for movie night,” Sunghoon announces, grabbing the remote and flipping through options. “Unless you all want to keep playing who’s got the smallest dick.”

Heeseung slouches further down, arm thrown over the back of the couch, that same unreadable smirk still tugging at his mouth as he watches you take a hesitant seat across from him. You’re quick avoid his gaze, but to your dismay, you feel it anyway. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The movie had been playing for a while, some half-serious thriller that Jay insisted was good, even though Sunghoon kept making snide comments about the plot holes every five minutes. You’d nestled onto the couch between the two of them, a big bowl of popcorn resting in your lap. Mostly, it was Jay and Sunghoon grabbing generous handfuls while you only occasionally picked at the edges.

Now it was empty. Sunghoon let out a dramatic groan, slumping against the cushions like someone had just shot him. “No more popcorn? I’m gonna die.” Jay rolled his eyes. “You’ve had more than half the bowl.”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon huffed. Then his eyes landed on you. “y/n. Sweet. Lovely. Beautiful y/n, would you be an angel and make some more before I shrivel up and perish?” You laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m hungry,” he whined, clutching his stomach. “C’mon, I’ll owe you forever.” You shook your head, grinning. “Fine. Where are the packs?” He answered immediately, a victorious smile already painting his lips, “Kitchen cabinet above the stove.” You stood, smoothing your hands over your jeans, and padded toward the kitchen. The lights in there were dimmer than the living room, quieter, more removed. You found the cabinet, pulled out a pack, unwrapped it, and popped it into the microwave. The hum of it spinning was oddly soothing. You stared at the digital countdown, absently brushing popcorn kernels from the now empty bowl.

A presence, heavy, and close pressed to your back like it belonged there. You immediately froze. Then his voice rang through your ears, low, rough. “I told you to stay away.” Your breath caught in your throat, it was Heeseung. “I’m not afraid of you.” You managed to get the words out, albeit quiet, but still firm. He laughed, his tone quiet and mocking, more like a breath than a sound. “You should be.” You felt the edge of his nose brush against your skin, trailing lazily from the curve of your ear down to your jaw. “I don’t like girls like you,” he said. “So preppy. So perfect. Good grades, straight A’s, praise from mommy and daddy for not being the family embarrassment.” His words weren’t sharp, they were slow, and poisonous, like honey laced with something rotten.

“You’re just a good girl who’s playing pretend. Hanging out with people who’ll ruin you just by standing too close.” You stayed still, your heart pounding. But, you didn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching. “You’re wrong about me,” you said quietly. He didn’t respond right away, instead he spun you so your back hit the counter with a dull thud. His hands barely touched you, but they didn’t need to. The heat of him, and the intensity of his gaze was more than enough. “You think so?” he murmured. “Prove it.”

Your brows pulled in. “What-” He leaned in, just a fraction. His breath ghosted over your lips. “If you’re not who I think you are,” he said, “kiss me.” Your lips parted but no words came out. You blinked up at him, heat rising in your cheeks, flooding your chest. “I can’t,” you breathed. “They’re right there.” He didn’t move, he just let his lips brush yours, soft enough to barely count, cruel enough to make it feel like everything. Then his voice dropped right against your mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

Ding.

The microwave broke the silence with a loud chime. Heeseung stepped back with a lazy smirk, turned, and walked out without looking at you again. You stood there for a second longer, heart thudding in your chest, your palms gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You were curled up on your bed, legs tucked beneath you, a pillow hugged to your chest as Mina filed her nails at the desk and Koda nursed a half-empty iced coffee from the floor, where she sat cross-legged on the rug. The dorm room smelled faintly of vanilla and tteokibokki from earlier, a candle flickering on the windowsill, low music humming from Mina’s speaker. It was one of those quiet nights meant for decompressing after a long day.

Instead, your head was spinning.

“He hates me,” you said flatly, staring at the wall like it held the answers. “I don’t even know what I did. One second he’s saving me, the next he’s saying I don’t belong. He’s just.. ugh! He’s so confusing.” Koda raised a brow. “You mean Heeseung, right?” You nodded, clutching the pillow tighter. “I still don’t understand why you’re hanging around them,” Koda muttered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. “Like… okay, Jay and Sunghoon seem nice enough, barely, but Heeseung? I don’t get the appeal.”

“Oh, come on,” Mina cut in, smirking as she leaned back in the chair, legs propped up on the desk. “Tell me you haven’t thought about it.” Koda blinked. “About what?” Mina arched a brow at you. “Sleeping with him.”

“Mina!” you yelped, your face immediately flushing. “What?” she grinned, unbothered. “You’re clearly into him. And if he’s that hot and that frustrating, that’s probably the kind of hate-sex that ruins lives in the best way.” Shaking her head, Koda muttered, “You’re seriously insane,”

“Maybe,” Mina said cheerfully. “But I’m not wrong.” You buried your face in the pillow for a second. “I just don’t get him. Like, he offered me drugs and then told me I should stay away. He gets in my space like he’s trying to start something, and then leaves like I disgust him.”

“That’s because he’s probably bad news,” Koda said, serious now. “You said it yourself he was high out of his mind. He was rude, cold, and clearly not stable. Why are you still entertaining this? Why are you still hanging around them?” You sat up a little straighter, defensive without meaning to be. “Because Jay and Sunghoon aren’t like that. I like hanging out with them. Jay’s sweet. Sunghoon’s funny. They’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Okay,” Koda said, slow and firm, “but they’re close to Heeseung. Like, really close. Don’t you think that means something?” You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “I’m just saying,” Koda continued, “maybe think about not going to these hangouts anymore. Just until you know what you’re getting into.”

“She’s getting into Heeseung’s pants, hopefully,” Mina said under her breath.

“Koda has a point,” you said softly, ignoring Mina for once. “But… I don’t know. I feel like I want to understand him. He’s not just cold. There’s something else.”

“Trauma,” Koda said flatly. Mina laughed, but you only sighed. Then Mina sat up straighter, snapping her fingers. “Wait. I have an idea.” Koda narrowed her eyes. “Oh no.”

“You should go with her next time,” Mina said, pointing a glossy nail at Koda. “You don’t trust them? Go see for yourself.” Koda made a face. “Absolutely not.”

“No, this is perfect,” Mina said, grinning. “You’re like, the judgment queen. If anyone’s gonna get a read on those guys, it’s you.” Koda looked at you, visibly unimpressed. But you leaned in, hopeful. “Koda… would you? Just once? If you hate it, I won’t ask again.” She groaned, throwing her head back. “God, you’re lucky I love you.” You smiled, warm and relieved. “That’s a yes?”

“One time,” she warned. “And if that Heeseung guy looks at me wrong, I’m lighting him on fire.” 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It’s Koda who hails the cab, you slide into the backseat beside her, a nervous excitement twisting in your stomach as she scrolls through her phone, totally unfazed. You, however, are still trying to wrap your head around why Sunghoon of all people invited you out tonight, not Jay. Koda raises an eyebrow as she tucks her phone away. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Nope,” you say, giving her a faint smile. “But we’re already on our way, so…” She just sighs, shaking her head fondly. When the cab pulls up to the restaurant, the evening air greets you with the smoky scent of grilled meat wafting from inside. You spot them immediately, Sunghoon and Heeseung standing by the entrance, dressed down and looking effortlessly cool beneath the soft glow of the signage. “Hey!” you call out, stepping forward with Koda in tow.

Sunghoon waves, flashing that easy grin of his.m as he greets you, “Hey, you made it.” Heeseung meets your gaze for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey,” he says flatly. At least he acknowledged you. You turn slightly, “This is Koda, my friend. She’s tagging along tonight.” Sunghoon’s eyes flick to her, and it’s immediate. The pause that feels a second too long. “Hey,” he says, suddenly sounding a little different. “I’m Sunghoon.” Heeseung nods at her in silent greeting, but Sunghoon’s already gesturing toward the doors. “Let’s go in. I’m starving.”

Inside, the place is buzzing, smoke curling above tables, the clatter of side dishes, laughter mixing with upbeat K-pop playing from overhead speakers. As you approach the booth, Sunghoon slips into the seat next to Koda without hesitation, sending you a smug little grin. That leaves you standing there with Heeseung.

You slide in beside him, stiffly at first, trying not to focus on the heat radiating off his body, or the way he hasn’t even looked at you since you sat down. Koda and Sunghoon fall into conversation almost immediately, easy banter, shared music tastes, laughing over which side dishes are superior. You watch them with a small smile, heart swelling at how happy Koda looks. It’s peaceful for a while, until it isn’t.

You feel Heeseung lean toward you, his breath warm against your ear. “You really don’t know when to listen, do you?” You tense, eyes flicking to the grill in front of you. You keep your voice low, only for him. “Maybe you should tell your friends to stop enjoying my presence, then.” There’s a beat of silence. Then he exhales a quiet laugh, sharp and dry. “I forgot how much you like being wanted.” You blink at the burn in his words, jaw tightening. You don’t respond. Neither does he. The rest of the meal is a quiet war zone, chopsticks clinking, laughter echoing from Koda and Sunghoon’s side of the table while you and Heeseung sit in a thick, charged silence. But you feel his eyes. The occasional glance, the flicker of attention he tries to make seem accidental. You steal them back.

When the bill’s paid and you’re all stepping outside into the cool night, Sunghoon stretches, keys jingling in his hand. “I’ll take Koda home.” Koda immediately steps forward. “No, it’s fine, I’ll go with-”

“I insist,” Sunghoon cuts in smoothly, shooting her a crooked smile. “Heeseung can take care of Y/N.” Heeseung groans. “Seriously?” Sunghoon leans in, murmuring something only Heeseung can hear, likely a warning, something along the lines of Don’t fuck this up for me. Heeseung exhales through his nose. “Fine.” You turn to Koda, and despite the weird tension curling in your stomach, you offer her a reassuring look. “It’s okay. Go. I’ll be fine.” She hesitates, but Sunghoon’s already opening the door to his car like a gentleman. She gives you a subtle text me later glance before sliding inside.

And then it’s just you and Heeseung, standing outside the restaurant. The street’s quiet, golden lights from the sign above casting a faint glow over him. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks out at the empty street, lips parted like he’s about to sigh.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Heeseung unlocks his car without a word, the click of the doors breaking the silence between you. You follow, half-expecting him to just drop you off like Sunghoon had asked. Instead, he mutters, “We’re making a stop.” You blink, hesitating before opening the passenger door. “A stop?” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he doesn’t look at you as he answers, “Ran out of weed.” Your brow furrows. “Do you really need me to come with you for that?” He finally glances over, one hand gripping the wheel. “Relax. It’ll be quick.”

You huff but buckle your seatbelt anyway, crossing your arms as he pulls out of the lot. The drive is quiet, streetlights flash across his face, highlighting the soft shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the brown hair falling messily into his lashes. Eventually, he turns into the parking lot of a gas station, the kind that like it shouldn’t be open for business. Heeseung shifts into park and wordlessly gets out, hoodie up, posture casual in a way that’s still somehow threatening.

You watch as he approaches a guy standing by the side of the building, hooded and slouched, hands buried in his coat pockets. They exchange a few words, you can’t hear any of them before Heeseung pulls some crumpled bills from his pocket and the other guy produces a few small plastic bags in return.

Then, the dealer’s eyes shift. He’s noticed you. Even from the car, you see the smirk that curls across his face. He nods toward you, saying something you can’t make out but you see the way Heeseung’s entire demeanor changes. His back straightens, and his hand curls into a fist.

Then his voice raises loud enough for you to hear, “Say another word, and I’ll make you eat your fucking teeth.” The guy just laughs, hands raised like he means no harm, backing off with a mock bow before disappearing into the alley behind the station. Heeseung stomps back to the car and throws himself into the seat, slamming the door shut causing you to flinch at the sound.

“Jesus,” you mutter under your breath. He shoves the little baggies into his jacket pocket, jaw still tight. “I’m closer to my apartment,” he says eventually, as he starts the car again. “Jay can drive you home from there.” You don’t respond, you just watch the city lights flicker by through the window, wondering how the hell this night went so sideways.

When the car finally rolls to a stop in front of an apartment building, Heeseung gets out first. You follow, unsure if you’re supposed to. The elevator ride is short, and when he steps into the hallway, he freezes. A sock hangs from the doorknob of his apartment. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mutters. You look between him and the door, confused. “What… is that supposed to mean?” He turns, looking at you like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question alive. “It means Jay’s getting laid. And unless I wanna walk in on him butt ass naked, balls deep in some girl, I’m not going in there.”

Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out at first. A strange pang of something twists in your chest. Discomfort? Curiosity? You’re not even sure. You shouldn't say anything. You know you shouldn’t. But the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “You can come hang out with me for a bit.”

Heeseung blinks like you’ve just said something crazy. “You’re not serious.”

“I am,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady like your heart isn’t currently threatening to crawl up your throat. “It’s better than smoking in your car, right?” He looks at you for a long second. Then his tongue clicks against his teeth, and a crooked, almost disbelieving smirk tugs at his lips. “Sure, princess,” he says finally. “Lead the way.” And with that, you both turn and head back to the car, neither of you saying what you’re thinking.

That this is a bad idea.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The drive to your dorm is quiet. Neither of you speaks, and you’re oddly thankful for it. You already know Mina’s gone for the weekend on some family trip she wasn’t thrilled about, so sneaking Heeseung in isn’t necessary. You don’t even hesitate as you unlock the front door and lead him straight to your room.

He steps inside like he owns the place, scanning the space with an expression that borders on smug satisfaction. Your room is exactly what he expected, soft colors, string lights, a clutter of textbooks, and the sweet scent of your perfume in the air. 

Without asking, he drops into the chair at your desk, pulling a small bag from his jacket along with a metal grinder and rolling papers. You sit on your bed, wordless. Watching. Careful not to speak too soon, not to ask the wrong thing. He grinds the weed with practiced ease, rolling it all up into a neat joint before lighting it. The smell hits you fast and you wrinkle your nose as he takes a long drag, eyes flickering up to meet yours.

You hold eye contact, steady as you can, even as the smoke curls around his face like a halo of sin. He exhales, lazily. “You want a hit?” You shake your head immediately. “No thanks.”

“It’s just weed,” he says like that’s supposed to reassure you. “Won’t kill you.”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“Exactly why you should.” He shrugs, leaning back as he takes another drag. “You’ll be fine.” You hesitate. He’s not pressuring you, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, the sharpness behind the laziness in his tone, that makes your pride itch. “Fine but only one…” you mutter, reaching for it before you can psych yourself out.

He watches with amusement as you take a cautious inhale and immediately dissolve into a fit of coughing. Heeseung laughs, full-bodied and unbothered, while you wave at the air and curse under your breath. “You’re such an asshole,” you wheeze. “I knew that would be your reaction,” he says, taking the blunt back and drawing from it like a pro. “Weed’s gross, huh?”

“It is.”

“You get over that pretty quickly,” he mumbles through the smoke. You glare at him, still blinking the burn from your eyes. He exhales again, tapping ash into an empty coffee mug on your desk. Then he asks it, just casually enough to sting. “So why’d you invite me over?” You blink. “Because…you couldn’t go back to your place?”

“Bullshit.” He fixes you with a look, sharp and knowing. You open your mouth, then close it. You don’t have a real answer. Heeseung leans forward just a little, the curve of his smirk cruel and charming all at once. “Is it ‘cause you’re stupid and think I’m hot?”

“No,” you snap, instantly. He chuckles, standing from the chair. You stiffen as he crosses the room and drops onto the edge of your bed next to you, close enough to make your heart stutter. “You sure?” he asks, voice low. You say nothing. You can’t say anything. Your skin feels too hot. Your head swims, not from the weed, but from his nearness, the scent of him, the way he’s looking at you like he already knows the answer.

He sees your blush, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. “You’re too easy,” he mutters, shaking his head with mock disappointment. He stands again, this time strolling to the window, opening it halfway before flicking the burning joint outside. The end sizzles somewhere below. When he turns around, he’s already pulling off his jacket and tossing it over your desk chair. Then he drops to his knees. 

You gasp as his hands grip your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed until you’re practically nose-to-nose. “Tell me you want me,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. “Say the words, and I’ll give you what you want.” You shake your head, heart hammering, “I don’t want you.” He scoffs, one brow raising. “Sure. I’m an asshole. I’m repulsive. You’ve made that very clear.”

Your spine straightens, your jaw tightens. “You are,” you bite. “You’re an asshole, and you’re repulsive.” Something flashes in his eyes. Maybe he expected denial. Maybe he wanted it. Instead, he just laughs under his breath, dark and low. “Yeah?” he says. “Then why are you still sitting here?” You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his hand reaching up, fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your face up until there’s nowhere else to look but at him.

His gaze is intense. Like he’s peeling you open with nothing but his eyes. “Tell me you want me,” he says again, softer this time. “One last chance.” The silence stretches. And then, barely audible, your voice cracked.

“…I want you.”

It’s all he needs. He surges forward, crashing his mouth onto yours in a kiss that’s messy and impatient, all smoke and heat and tension finally snapping. His lips moved against yours like he owned them, tongue sliding past the seam of your mouth before you could even catch your breath. His hands dug into your waist, pulling you against him as if he needed more. And you kissed him back with a kind of clumsy desperation that had him groaning into your mouth.

“You kiss like you’ve never done this before,” he said between breaths, smirking against your lips. You blinked at him, dazed. “I haven’t.” That made him pause, just for a second. His eyes searched yours, dark with something unreadable. Then came the low, almost pleased laugh. “Of course you haven’t.” His tone was laced with something cruel. Not surprise. Satisfaction. “I knew you were a fucking virgin,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours for a brief second. “You’re so fucking obvious.”

You tried to pull away, but he caught you, dragging you back in with a hand curled around your waist. “And so desperate,” he added, voice velvet-wrapped venom. “You let me touch you like this, let me get in your head, just because I smiled at you for two seconds?”

“I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?” he cut you off, his hand sliding up your spine, fingers pressing just beneath your bra clasp. “Didn’t fantasize about me when I cornered you in that kitchen? Didn’t think about what it’d feel like to have me ruin that perfect little image you try so hard to keep?” His mouth ghosted over your neck, not kissing, just breathing, and it made you shiver. “You’re pathetic,” he said against your skin. “And I mean that in the hottest fucking way possible.”

Your whole body was trembling, but not with fear. It was something else. Something that couldn’t be named anything other than desire.

He pulled back suddenly, just far enough to grab your hands and guide them to the hem of his shirt. “Take it off.” You hesitated for a beat. “Be a good fucking girl,” he said, voice rough. “Do what you’re told.” So you did. Fingers shaky, you pulled the shirt over his head, revealing smooth skin, inked ribs, and lean muscle that flexed with every breath. He looked sinful.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and for some reason, your stomach flipped. But just when things were spiraling faster than you could handle, his hands were on your hips, mouth back on yours, it was so overwhelming you couldn’t help but pull back.

“I… I can’t.” He stilled. “I’ve never… I’ve never done this before,” you admitted, voice small, eyes locked on the space between you. There was a beat of silence. And then, to your surprise, he pulled back. Not with annoyance. Not even frustration. He just looked at you, unreadable again. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood. “You really are something else.” You waited for him to storm out, to curse, even to make a cruel comment.

Instead, he just leaned down again, brushed a thumb over your flushed cheek, and said, “You’re lucky I’m not a total piece of shit.” And with that, he grabbed the rest of his clothes, tossed on his jacket, and muttered something about needing a smoke before he lost what little self-control he had left. You sat there, breathless and buzzing, completely unsure of whether you’d just made the best or worst decision of your life.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The music thrums low through the walls, bass pulsing like a heartbeat as laughter drifts in from Sunghoon’s living room. You’re curled up in an oversized armchair with a ginger ale in hand, Kira and Mina arguing over which song to queue next while Jay and Wren are deep in a debate about movies that neither of them can name correctly. Somewhere across the room, Heeseung sits with a drink in one hand and a lazy smirk stretched across his face. His hair’s a little messy, pupils blown wide from whatever he snorted in the hallway earlier, and despite the chaos of the party, you can feel his eyes on you like a brand.

It’s not obvious, no one else seems to notice. But you do. Every glance. Every slow rake of his gaze down your frame. Every time his tongue wets his lips like he’s tasting a memory. And even though you try not to, you glance back, too. Then your phone buzzes in your lap.

heeseung: bathroom. now.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t even think, you simply mutter an excuse to Koda about needing to pee and slip down the hallway. The party noise fades behind the door when you step into the bathroom. He’s already there, leaned up against the opposite wall with that same devilish glint in his eyes.

You blink. “Are we gonna talk about-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Heeseung says flatly, pushing off the wall and closing the distance in one stride. His hands cradle your jaw and then his mouth is on yours, hot and aggressive and unforgiving. There’s no hesitation in his kiss, no slow build, just his tongue exploring your mouth, and the taste of liquor as he presses you back against the door. Your fingers fist in his shirt before you even realize it.

You pull back breathless. “Heeseung, what the hell are we doing? We need to talk about the other night-”

“I don’t do relationships,” he says with a scoff like it’s a disgusting word. “So if that’s what you want, you better wait for hell to freeze over.” You blink at him, heart hammering in your chest, anxiety rising in your throat. “But,” he adds, voice lower now, more dangerous, “I do want to ruin you.” You swallow hard at his words. He smirks, brushing his nose against yours. “So here’s the deal, princess. You’re either in or you’re out. No strings. You wanna play with fire, or do you want me to walk away?”

Your brain screams run. But your body’s already betraying you, your anxiety fizzling away as his scent reaches your nose. You grab him by the collar and pull him back into a kiss, just as messy, just as desperate. His hands find your waist like they’ve been there a thousand times before, fingers curling tight. For a moment, you forget how to breathe. Heeseung groans against your mouth, then pulls away, forehead resting against yours as both of you catch your breath.

“We should get back,” he murmurs. You nod, pulse still thundering. He opens the door, peeks out, then gives you a quick nod. “You first.” You slip back into the party, lips still tingling as you slide into your spot on the armchair as if nothing happened.

A few minutes later, Heeseung strolls in, eyes scanning the room until they find you again. You go to look away, but it’s already too late.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You weren’t supposed to fall into this.

At first, it’s just sneaking around, his hands on your hips in the back of someone’s house party, his lips slanted over yours in the shadows of a hallway, his messages short and demanding: Come over. Now.

It never goes further than making out. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because you always stop it, and for some reason, he listens. But he toys with you. Pushes you to your limits. Tugs at your waistband just to hear you whimper and tell him no. He always listens, barely, but he never makes it easy.

Heeseung has fun with it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

But then something shifts.

You don’t show up to one of the guys’ get-togethers and he spends the whole night pissed off. You don’t answer his messages during midterms and he fights the urge to call you. And when you finally reply that you’ve been studying, he just stares at the screen for a long moment, jaw clenched, fingers twitching with something he doesn’t want to name.

Because there’s one thing Heeseung promised himself he’d never do… develop feelings. Especially not for someone like you. But somehow, you become his. His little secret. His personal puppy. Always coming when he calls, even if it's just to follow him to meet a plug. You make him food after he gets too high and starts spiraling. You learn what bands he listens to, what kind of ramen he likes, what makes him laugh on those rare days when he lets his walls fall just enough.

And the worst part?

You never ask for anything back.

For months, he keeps choosing you. He stops fucking around with other girls, ignores his late-night calls from the ones who’d been more than willing to drop to their knees. It didn’t matter. The only lips he wanted on him were yours. And he hasn’t even had that in weeks. Heeseung starts to feel like you belong to him and it terrifies him.

So he does what he does best. He pulls away.

You come over to his place one night, unannounced, because he hadn’t answered your texts in two days and it made you worry. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, just annoyed. You barely step inside when his voice cuts sharp and flat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was worried,” you say quietly, trying not to flinch. His laugh is humorless. “Worried? What the hell for?”

“You weren’t answering and-”

“I don’t owe you shit, Y/N. I don’t have to text you back.”

“I know that,” you whisper. “I just… I care, that’s all.”

He sneers. “That’s your first mistake.”

You don’t fight back. You don’t yell. You just stand there, eyes wide, shrinking under the weight of every bitter word. “I never needed you,” he says. “Don’t know what kind of delusion you’ve been living in, but this,” he gestures vaguely between you “was never anything. Just convenient. You were easy.” Your throat burns. Your eyes sting. But still, you stay. “You don’t mean that.”

He steps closer, expression cruel. “I do. Get the fuck out, Y/N.” You’re crying now, but you nod. “Okay… I hope you have a good night.”

You’re halfway to the door when he throws in one last jab. “Keep crying, sweetheart. Shows just how fucking weak you really are.” The door slams behind you before you can blink away the tears. Jay is standing in the hallway. He freezes when he sees you, eyes wide.

“Y/N? What happened?” You don’t answer. You don’t even look at him. You just keep walking, hand trembling as it wraps around the stair railing, the apartment door shutting behind you like punctuation at the end of a sentence you never wanted to write.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

A week passes. And it’s miserable. You barely leave your dorm except for class. You come back, bury yourself in textbooks or pretend to scroll your phone, hoping your friends won’t notice how much darker your eyes look now, how much quieter you’ve become. But they do notice. Mina tries to talk to you, but you just keep saying you’re fine. Kira gives you looks full of concern. Wren keeps asking if you’re sick. You’re not. You just feel hollow.

And Heeseung… He’s no better.

Jay’s fed up with him. He’s been smoking and snorting himself stupid. He’s always high, barely coherent, lying around their apartment with bloodshot eyes and a shorter temper than usual. No girls, no snide comments. No joy.

Until tonight.

There’s a knock on your dorm door. Mina opens it, expecting maybe a neighbour or a classmate needing something. Instead, she finds Heeseung. He looks wrecked, eyes red, pupils blown wide, hair messy. Jacket hanging off one shoulder, reeking of weed. “What the hell…” Mina starts, furrowing her brows. “Why are you here?” He doesn’t answer her. Doesn’t care how insane he looks. “Is Y/N here?”

“Uh… yeah?”

He brushes past her before she can stop him. He marches straight to your door and opens it. You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, startled as he walks in and shuts the door behind him like he belongs there. “Heeseung?” you breathe out, eyes wide. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just walks over, dazed, and sits on the edge of your bed. You can instantly tell he’s high, and not just weed this time. His gaze is hazy, his voice low and hoarse when he finally speaks.

“Can I… lay with you?” Your heart twists. You don’t know what to say. You’re confused and hurt, but even so you nod.

He kicks off his shoes, shrugs out of his jacket, and slides onto your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then he curls behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist like it never left. His breath warms the back of your neck. You can feel his heartbeat against your spine. For a long while, neither of you speak. Then somewhere you work up and courage and quietly, you whisper, “Why are you here?” He presses a soft kiss to your neck, another. His voice, when it comes, is slurred but raw. “Be quiet.” You shiver but stay silent.

“I hated it,” he mutters after a beat. “Being without you. Hated knowing you were out there and I’d pushed you away.” Your breath catches. You don’t know how to respond. He nuzzles into your neck, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. “You belong to me.” And you should argue. You should push him away. But you don’t, you just let him hold you.

“I didn’t mean the shit I said,” he murmurs. “I was scared. Of how I feel about you. I didn’t know what to do with it.” You stay still, soaking in every word, every slow beat of his heart against your back. “I’m not gonna push you away again,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to worry about that.” You don’t say anything. You just reach down and thread your fingers through his, and you hold on.

You don’t know how long you laid there. The silence is full but not uncomfortable. Just soft breaths and the quiet beat of something new blooming between you. Eventually, you shift in his arms and roll over, facing him.

Heeseung looks at you like he doesn’t know whether he’s dreaming or hallucinating. His pupils are still blown wide, but they’re focused on you. You lean in slowly, tentatively, and press the gentlest kiss to his lips. It’s so featherlight it nearly doesn’t land. But it’s enough.

Heeseung moves before you can pull away. His hand cradles the side of your face, and he kisses you back softly at first, almost reverent. But the longer your lips linger, the more the hunger seeps in. It grows, consuming, like it’s been building up inside him for the last week. The kisses get deeper, needier. Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as he shifts, pressing you down onto the mattress, his body moving to hover over yours. He cages you in without hesitation, kissing you like he’s starving and you’re the first thing that’s ever made him feel full.

His lips bruise yours, but you don’t care. You only kiss him harder. His hand trails down your side, gripping your waist as his body presses flush against yours. The way he moves, the way he kisses, it’s all too much. But you don’t want to stop. You want more. And for once, the fear doesn’t outweigh the ache. You pull away just slightly, your breaths tangled in the tiny space between you.

Your eyes lock, and his gaze is burning, pupils heavy and jaw tight, like he’s trying to hold back. And then, softly you say the words he’d been waiting to hear.

“I’m ready for more.”

His entire body stills above you. Then, slowly, he leans in until your noses touch, his voice rough against your lips. “Say that again.” You swallow. Your chest rises and falls with every shaky inhale, but your eyes don’t leave his. “I’m ready,” you repeat, just as softly. “For more.”

Your words are all he needs. The moment they leave your lips, he closes the gap, kissing you again, but this time, it's slower. More deliberate. Like he’s finally allowing himself to savor something he’s been craving for far too long.

Clothing falls away piece by piece, scattered carelessly to the floor. There’s no rush. Just quiet anticipation, mounting tension, and the weight of something neither of you wants to name. When you’re beneath him, completely bare and he’s left in nothing but his boxers, Heeseung just looks at you.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, the words low and genuine before he leans down, mouth trailing kisses along the curve of your neck. His lips brand you, soft at first, then hungrier as they dip lower. His teeth graze your hip bone, then your inner thigh, dragging a gasp from your lips.

This is the first time you’ve ever let someone see you like this. So vulnerable and exposed. Your hands instinctively rise, trying to shield your face from the heat of his gaze. But Heeseung clicks his tongue and reaches up, fingers gently curling around your wrist. “Let me see that pretty face while I make you feel good. Can you do that for me, baby?” And really, how could you ever say no to him? You drop your hands to your sides, surrendering completely, and he smiles before dipping between your legs like he owns the place.

His tongue is confident, practiced, and devastatingly precise. You feel every deliberate flick against your clit like a jolt of lightning. He kisses you there, hungry and unrelenting, like he’s starving for every sound you make. You moan his name, loud and needy. “Heeseung…”

His groan hums against your core, vibrating through you in the most sinful way. That one moan, the way his name rolls off your tongue, it spurs him on. He pushes your legs further apart, then back, just to hear your sounds more clearly, just to feel how wet and desperate he’s made you.

The pressure builds quickly. It’s not gentle. It’s overwhelming. Your body trembles under the weight of your pleasure, muscles twitching as your moans dissolve into shaky little whimpers. You’re right on the edge and he knows it. His gaze lifts to yours, locking eyes with you just as you begin to come undone. Gone is the cold detachment you’ve come to expect from him. There’s a glimmer of warmth now, mischief dancing in his eyes, his lips curved into a smirk as they press against your pussy again.

That’s all it takes.

You shatter beneath him with a broken cry, back arching, hips lifting off the mattress. Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, hot and all-consuming, setting every nerve on fire. It’s bliss and chaos wrapped in one, your chest heaving as you ride it out, moaning his name like a prayer, and Heeseung just watches. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he lifts his head from between your thighs, lips slick with your arousal. His eyes are bloodshot and glassy from the high but they burn into yours with something heavier than lust. Hunger so deep it coils in your stomach and twists your insides.

Then he kisses you hard, desperate, a filthy blend of your taste and his need but the moment is short-lived. You feel it immediately, the thick bulge in his boxers grinding against your soaked core, the friction dizzying despite the barrier. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, and his lips hover just above yours.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, voice hoarse with restraint, his breath warm against your mouth. You nod, quick and breathless. “Yes,” you whisper, eyes pleading. “I need you.”

He pulls back with a groan, sitting up on his knees as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Your gaze drops, your breath catching when he tugs them down and tosses them aside. His cock springs free, long and thick, veins prominent, the flushed tip already glistening with pre-cum. It slaps against his abdomen with a heavy thud, and your thighs instinctively part wider.

Heeseung catches the way your eyes lock on his length, the awe, the need, and it pulls a slow smirk from his lips. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, but there’s no hesitation in his tone. He knows what your answer will be before you give it. “I don’t care,” you breathe, voice trembling with desire. “I just want you.” His smirk deepens, dark and dangerous. He leans forward just enough to press his tip against your entrance, dragging it slowly through your folds, collecting the slick that’s been pooling for him since the moment he walked through your door.

“You keep saying shit like that, pretty girl,” he rasps, “and I’m gonna start thinking you want me to put a baby in you.” The words are low and filthy, and they send a tremor through your body. He holds the base of his cock in one hand, teasing your dripping entrance, circling it, pushing just the tip inside and pulling back again. “Is that what you want?” he taunts, voice all mock-innocence, even as his jaw clenches from the restraint it’s taking not to bury himself inside you. You whimper, back arching slightly as you try to rock your hips forward, but his hand presses down on your thigh, keeping you in place. “Heeseung, please,” you cry, nearly breathless. “I need to feel you.”

That’s all it takes to break him. His eyes flash, the playfulness gone in an instant, replaced by something ravenous. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel every part of him as your walls flutter and tighten around his thick length. A guttural moan rips from his chest. “Fuck,” he hisses, eyes squeezing shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

And for a moment time stalls. All that exists is the feeling of him inside you for the very first time, your nails digging into his shoulders, your legs trembling from the stretch, and Heeseung’s hands gripping your hips like he never plans to let go.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Heeseung pushed deeper, stretching you open in a way you’d never felt before. The pleasure was overwhelming, laced with a faint sting that had your eyes welling with tears. Heeseung saw the tremble in your lips, the way your brows drew together and for the first time, the ever-composed boy above you froze completely.

“Shhh,” he murmured gently, his voice too soft for the boy who usually only knew how to tease and taunt. His thumb brushed at the tears slipping down your cheeks, wiping them away with a reverence that left your heart aching. “I got you, baby. You’re okay.” He leaned down, pressing featherlight kisses across your face. From your cheeks, to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, almost like he was trying to kiss the pain away. Your eyes met his, and there was something new there, something fragile and raw. You gave him a small nod, and he didn’t need anything more.

The moment you gave him permission, he exhaled a groan like he’d been holding it in for years. The restraint it took him to not completely unravel was evident in the way his arms trembled on either side of your head. He knew it was your first time, and for once, Heeseung wasn’t out to ruin you. He was here to worship you. He started to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and steady, designed not to overwhelm, but to let you feel every inch of him. Every time his hips rolled into yours, you swore he carved a piece of himself into your body. He never looked away from you, not even for a second. 

You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as the pleasure slowly overtook the pain, and then eclipsed it entirely. Your moans spilled freely now, rising with each thrust, and Heeseung’s breath hitched at the sound of them. “You’re mine,” he whispered, voice breaking against your ear. “You hear me? This pussy is mine.” His lips brushed your throat, but his eyes were starting to flutter closed, head tilting back as the pleasure threatened to undo him. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

He shifted suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pushing them forward, throwing your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion. The angle had your breath hitching, your back arching up off the mattress as he buried himself even deeper, grinding against the spot that made your entire body tremble. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in as he began to fuck you in earnest, hips snapping forward with a brutal rhythm. You were a mess beneath him, moaning, whining, hands grasping at his forearms for something to hold onto. That knot in your stomach tightened fast and hard, your whole body going taut with it.

You could barely speak. “Hee.. Heeseung, I think I’m gonna-” But his pace didn’t falter. “I know,” he grunted. “I can feel you, baby. But you’re not allowed to cum yet.” You sobbed at his words, a desperate cry breaking through your lips. “I can’t.. I can’t hold it.. please!” He growled low in his throat, his pace faltering just for a moment to lean closer, his lips right by your ear. “You do what I say,” he hissed. “You hold it until I tell you. You always do as you’re told, right?”

Your nod was frantic, broken by whimpers, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you as your walls fluttered around him, desperate to release. His own breathing was ragged now, sweat dotting his forehead, jaw clenched as he tried to hold himself back.

Then finally, like a reward he gave in. “Cum for me,” he groaned. “Now.” Your release hit like a wave crashing over your body, your vision going white at the edges, back arching as your orgasm tore through you. The tightness in your abdomen snapped with a force that had you nearly screaming, shaking beneath him as the pleasure ripped you apart. Heeseung’s hands gripped your thighs harder as your pussy clenched around him.

“Fuck.” he cursed, voice shaking, hips stuttering. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

His own orgasm hit seconds later, spilling into you with a guttural groan as his body collapsed slightly over yours, his arms catching his weight just in time. He chanted your name like it was the only word he remembered, praises falling from his lips as he rode out the high with you. The room felt too quiet in the aftermath, filled only with the sound of your shared heavy breathing. Your skin burned, a soft glow spread across your body like you’d been touched by something divine. Heeseung didn’t pull away immediately. He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, your jaw, your temple, anywhere he could easily get his lips on..

Eventually, he pulls out carefully, murmuring soft apologies at your wince. He cleaned you up with surprising tenderness, making sure you were comfortable before crawling back into bed beside you. No words passed between you. They weren’t needed. Not with the way you curled into his chest, and the way his arms wrapped around you like he didn’t plan on letting go.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

A few months had passed, and things between you and Heeseung had shifted but not in the way you'd hoped.

Word had spread quickly among your friends that the two of you were something. You were always together, always touching, always tangled up in some form of each other. Heeseung never bothered denying it, and though you weren’t officially dating, he didn’t let anyone so much as look at you the wrong way. You were his, even if you weren’t his.

At first it felt like enough.

The two of you started going on double dates with Sunghoon and Koda, who had become disgustingly official. Public hand-holding, matching lockscreens, soft smiles traded when they thought no one was looking. It made something twist in your stomach every time you saw them together. Because you wanted that with Heeseung. Not just in secret, not just in the dark, not just in bed.

You’d asked him about it more than once, about putting a label on whatever you were. Every time, he gave the same answer. “Labels are overrated.”

And somehow, every time, you let yourself believe him. Let yourself agree. Because what else could you do? Walk away?

Now the entire friend group was gathered at Sunghoon’s place, celebrating the unthinkable. He’d gotten back into college. The same guy who once slept through an exam while tripping balls was suddenly clean, smiling more, standing a little straighter with Koda by his side.

Jay raised his red solo cup. “No way you’re really quitting for good,” he snorted. Heeseung chimed in with a lopsided grin. “Bet you relapse in a week.” Sunghoon only laughed, draping an arm over Koda’s shoulders. “For her? I’d give up anything.” The room buzzed with soft awe, with that sticky sweetness of love that had you glancing at Heeseung out of the corner of your eye.

But he didn’t look back.

Later that night, you were curled up in Heeseung’s bed, the city lights bleeding through the blinds in slanted strips of white and gold. He sat at his desk, rolling a bill between his fingers, lining powder up with mechanical precision. You bit your lip. Waited. Then finally, quietly, “Would you ever quit… for me?”

He paused, just for a second. Then he laughed. “Don’t be stupid.” The words hit like a slap, and your stomach sank. “I’m not being stupid,” you said softly. “I’m asking.” He didn’t even look at you. “I’m too deep in, princess. You knew that from the start.” You sat up, sheet clutched against your chest. “Yeah, but maybe you could want more. Maybe you could try for us.” That made him turn. He swiveled slowly in his chair, coke still untouched, eyes bleary with something unreadable. “Us?” he echoed. “What us, Y/N? We're not married. We're not even actually dating.”

The words landed like stones in your chest. You blinked at him, stunned, your voice breaking as you whispered, “That’s so mean, Heeseung… how could you say that after everything?” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” He shrugged, looking away. “I just don’t think about the future. I never have. Shit like that doesn’t work for people like me. Whatever happens, happens.” You were silent for a moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, you turned away from him and laid back down, facing the wall. You didn’t cry, not this time. But something inside you hardened.

Behind you, you heard the faint snort of his line. A few seconds later, the bed dipped under his weight as he slid in behind you. His arm draped around your waist like it always did. But tonight, it felt heavier. He buried his face into the crook of your neck. He smelled like sweat and powder. And though he didn’t say it, you felt the smallest whisper of apology in the way he kissed your shoulder. Still, your eyes stayed open long after his closed. Because no matter how close his body was to yours, you’d never felt farther from him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The next week, Sunghoon waited at the bottom of the steps, his hoodie half-zipped and a protein shake in hand. “Damn, you look like death.” You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to stifle a yawn as you adjusted your backpack. “Didn’t sleep.” Sunghoon let out a small chuckle as he walked beside you, “Let me guess. Study bender?” You gave a tired half-smile. “Something like that.”

The truth was heavier than you let on. You were burning the candle at both ends. Studying until your vision blurred, then sneaking off to Heeseung’s apartment in the middle of the night because he needed you. He always needed something. A distraction. A fix. A warm body. You never said no. Not once. Not even when your body begged for sleep and your brain screamed for rest. By the time you and Sunghoon reached class, your chest already felt tight. Your skin was clammy, your thoughts muddy and disjointed. You hadn’t even remembered this essay was being handed back today.

The second your professor placed the paper facedown in front of you, your stomach sank. You flipped it over, and there it was, a huge, angry 57% scrawled across the top in unforgiving red ink. For a moment, your world stopped. You blinked at the number, uncomprehending. You’d never seen a grade like that in your life. Never anything under a 93. Not even close. You remembered writing it, or rather trying to.

Heeseung had been pacing his apartment, high and impatient, asking how much longer you were going to be. “Come on, babe,” he’d said, already tugging at your shirt. “You’ll finish it later.” You should’ve said no. You should’ve finished it, you knew better. “y/n…” Sunghoon’s voice was gentle beside you, too gentle, then you realized he’d seen the grade too. “I’m sorry-” You didn’t let him finish.

Before the first slide even hit the projector, you grabbed your paper, shoved it into your bag, and bolted. “y/n?” your professor called out as the door closed behind you, but you didn’t stop. The tears were already falling, hot and silent down your cheeks as your legs carried you on autopilot. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Jay opened the door with a lazy grin. “Hey, look who it is-” His expression dropped instantly when he saw your face. “Whoa, hey. What’s wrong?”

“Is Heeseung here?” you asked, voice hoarse. He shook his head, stepping back to let you in. “He went out. Should be back soon, though.” You turned like you were about to leave, but Jay caught your wrist. “Wait, come inside.” You hesitated, wavering on your feet. But then his arms opened, and your resolve broke. You fell into his chest, sobs wracking your body as he pulled you in close.

Jay guided you to the couch, settling in beside you without a word. His hand rubbed slow, steady circles along your back while you cried until your throat ached. “I’m so tired,” you finally whispered. “I’m tired of loving someone who doesn’t want to love me back. He wants me to be his, but he doesn’t want to be mine.”

Jay didn’t respond right away. He let you speak, let your words settle between the two of you before he finally said, “You know that’s not fair to you, right?” You just stared at your hands, shaking in your lap. “I know. But I keep choosing him anyway.” You reached into your bag, your fingers clumsy, and pulled out the crumpled essay. “And now my life’s falling apart because of it.” You handed it to him, shame rushing up your throat. Jay’s brows knit together as he read the grade. “Jesus. y/n…”

“I was working on it that night and he kept trying to rush me so I could give him my attention. I was almost done, but he didn’t want to wait.”

“And you dropped everything for him.”

“I always do,” you whispered.

He was quiet for a second, then gently nudged your leg with his. “Heeseung actually invited me out tonight. Some new bar opening nearby.” You looked over, startled. “Jay, I can’t.” His voice was calm, “Just hear me out. Come with me and just to talk to him.” You exhaled sharply, your head already shaking. “He doesn’t listen.”

“Then make him listen,” Jay said, more firm this time. “Tell him what you told me. That you’re tired. That you’re drowning trying to hold up both of you. That you’re not asking him to change overnight but you are asking him to care enough to meet you halfway.” You swallowed hard. “What if he doesn’t?” Jay shrugged. “Then you’ll know. And I think deep down knowing is better than dragging this out in the dark.” He rested his hand on yours, “You love him. That’s obvious. But love shouldn’t break you down like this, y/n. Not over and over again.”

Your eyes welled again, but you held back the tears. Instead, you nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll come.” Jay offered you a small, “Good, and hey… no matter what happens, I got you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The bass thumped through the floor of the bar, pulsing in your chest as you followed Jay inside. The space was crowded but stylish, with low amber lighting and a haze of laughter and smoke hanging in the air. You looked stunning but even with your makeup perfect and your dress hugging you in all the right places, something inside still felt off.

Jay leaned in close, his voice pitched low near your ear. “You good?” You nodded, even if it was a lie. “Let’s just get a drink.” You posted up at the bar, side by side as you sipped your cocktails. You scanned the room absentmindedly, heart thudding against your ribs, wondering if tonight would finally be the night something changed between you and Heeseung.

Then Jay spotted him. “He’s over there.” You turned as Jay nodded toward the far corner, where a group of guys lounged around a table with half-drunk beers and a few girls clinging to their arms. Heeseung sat relaxed and smirking until your eyes locked on the girl on his lap. She was curled against him like she belonged there, her lips attached to his neck, one hand teasing the hem of his shirt.

You froze. Jay’s jaw clenched. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Heeseung noticed Jay first, and he waved lazily, like nothing was wrong. It wasn’t until you approached that his face dropped, and you didn’t say a word. 

“y/n..”

The girl was shoved off his lap without ceremony, confusion written all over her face. But you weren’t looking at her. You were looking at him like you’d never seen him before. Like something inside you had finally snapped. You let out the smallest, most broken sigh, then turned to leave. Jay moved as if to follow you, but Heeseung reached for his arm and shook his head. “I got it.” Jay just stared him down like he might hit him, but he stepped back, lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

The air outside the bar was sharp and cool, biting at your skin as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to breathe. The muffled thump of bass inside faded behind you, but it couldn’t drown out the sound of your heartbeat, loud and aching in your ears. You stood on the curb, phone pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah… can you come get me?” Your voice cracked on the last word, barely above a whisper as you got Kira to come pick you up. The moment you hung up, you heard the door swing open behind you. “y/n.” You didn’t turn, you couldn’t. You kept your eyes on the street, watching headlights blur behind the film of tears already clouding your vision. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” Heeseung said, his voice a little breathless. “She meant nothing. I didn’t even say two words to her before she climbed on top of me.”

You didn’t respond, but your shoulders tensed. He noticed. “She wasn’t you,” he added. “She never could be.” That got you to turn, enough to glance over your shoulder. Enough to let him see how wrecked you were, even beneath your makeup and perfect dress. “Do you even hear yourself?” you asked, your voice low and raw. “Why was anyone on you in the first place?” He looked like he wanted to argue. Like he had excuses lined up. But instead, he stepped closer, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “I was drunk. I was bored. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”

You blinked, a tear slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. “I’m not good at this, Y/N. I’m shit at it. But I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” His eyes searched yours, his voice a little quieter now. “If I’d known you were coming with Jay… I wouldn’t have even looked at anyone else.” Your throat tightened. You hated how easily your heart twisted at his words. How even now, even like this, part of you still wanted to believe him.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” you murmured. “Then don’t,” he said, taking another step closer. “Come back inside, or come home with me. Let me fix this.” You turned to face him fully now, biting your cheek to stop the sob sitting at the base of your throat. “Heeseung…” you started, but your voice faltered.

He saw it, the softening in your eyes, the hesitation in your stance. The way your hands twitched like you didn’t know whether to shove him or hold him. He saw it all, and his mouth curved into the smallest smirk, hopeful and cocky all at once. “I knew you wouldn’t walk away that easy,” he said under his breath, stepping forward again, close enough now that you could smell him. Close enough to pull you back in. But before he could reach you, headlights flashed across both your faces.

Kira’s car.

You wiped your cheek fast, hoping she didn’t notice. As she pulled up to the curb, you turned back to Heeseung, taking one shaky breath. “I’m not done with this conversation,” you admitted. “But I can’t do this right now.”

He opened his mouth again, ready to talk you down, smooth things over, maybe even kiss his way out of the wreckage but the door to Kira’s car swung open with a quiet click, and the moment slipped through his fingers like smoke. You slid into the passenger seat without another word, not even looking back as Kira pulled away. Heeseung stood on the sidewalk, watching the car disappear, jaw tight and eyes glinting with the ghost of a grin. Because for better or worse, he knew it wasn’t over.

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The morning was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt heavy rather than peaceful. You stood outside Heeseung and Jay’s apartment, your arms crossed against the early chill, uncertainty churning in your stomach like a storm on the brink. You didn’t even remember the walk here. Your legs had carried you on instinct, like some pathetic magnetic pull that wouldn’t let you stay away.

You raised your hand and knocked softly on the door, almost like part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer, but he did.

Heeseung opened the door looking like he hadn’t slept, eyes red, hair a mess, the fabric of his hoodie wrinkled and worn. For a second, he just blinked at you, as if unsure you were real. Then he stepped back silently, letting you in. You didn’t speak as you made your way to his room, the familiar scent of his cologne and faint smoke clinging to everything around you. You sat on the edge of his bed while he shut the door behind him. The air felt thick, like it could snap under the weight of whatever you were about to say.

He sat beside you, a little too close. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” you said quietly, hands resting in your lap, fingers digging into your own skin. “I’m tired, Heeseung. Everything in my life is falling apart, and I don’t even recognize myself anymore. And it’s not fair. I shouldn’t feel this… pathetic.” He didn’t say anything at first. Just let your words hang in the air between you. Then, finally he whispered, “I know.” You turned to look at him. “Do you?”

Heeseung’s jaw tensed. “I know I’ve hurt you. I’ve been selfish, and I’ve dragged you into my mess. But I meant what I said last night. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Y/N. I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m not good at this. I’m scared of needing someone like I need you.” You stayed quiet, heart hammering in your chest, desperate for something real from him. “I’m not ready,” he admitted, voice low. “Not for the kind of love you deserve. Not yet. But I swear to God, I’m trying. And I don’t want you to leave me before I figure it out.” Your throat tightened. You hated him a little for saying the right things. For always knowing just how much honesty to give to keep you hanging on.

“I can’t keep putting my life on hold for someone who won’t choose me,” you whispered. “I am choosing you,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Just not in the way you want. Not yet. But I will.” You looked down at your joined hands. His thumb brushed softly over your knuckles, slow and reverent, like maybe he knew how close you were to walking away. “I need time,” he said again. “But I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t make me lose you.”

Your heart ached with how badly you wanted to believe him. And then, he leaned in and placed a genuine kiss on your lips. Not rushed, not greedy. Just a kiss. Sweet and gentle, which was rare for Heeseung. It didn’t burn like normal, you completely melted into him, and that was the problem. When he pulled back, your eyes were still closed. You breathed in slowly, “Okay,” you whispered. “But I can’t keep waiting forever.”

“I know,” he said. “I won’t make you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It had been months since that night at the bar. Somehow, Heeseung had surprised you. After that, he showed up. Not in grand, sweeping gestures, but in smaller ways. Less disappearing, fewer girls, and a real effort to be present. He still got high more often than you liked, but he wasn’t the same careless version of himself. There were even days he stayed sober just for you. He still refused to label what the two of you had, but there was no denying it anymore, you were his. And despite everything, he was still yours.

Finals came and went in a blur. You buried yourself in your notes, slept less, ate less, and practically lived in the library. Heeseung didn’t love it. He was pissy about the time you spent away, complained under his breath, picked little fights but when you reminded him how important this was to you, he’d try to pull it back. You knew he didn’t mean to be cold. It was just that being second to anything, including your future, never sat well with him.

So when your final marks came in, high scores across the board, including a ninety-six on the rewritten essay that had nearly broken you, you practically floated to his apartment. You didn’t knock anymore, you hadn’t for months. Jay barely looked up from the couch when you breezed in. “Heeseung’s in his room,” he mumbled through a mouthful of chips.

Your heart pounded with something close to glee as you padded down the hallway. For once, it felt like things were right again. The pressure was off your shoulders, and all you wanted was to share this victory with the person who made you feel like magic even on your worst days. You pushed open the door, and he was on the edge of his bed, hunched over, dollar bill between his fingers, a thin white line in front of him on the desk. He didn’t flinch when you walked in. Just looked up, red-eyed and lazy-smiled. "You’re here," he said, voice low and drowsy. You didn’t hesitate. You were in his lap before he could blink, cupping his face and pressing your lips to his. "I did it," you whispered between kisses. "I killed those exams, and got the makeup essay back too, your girl got a ninety-six."

His hands landed on your waist. "Of course you did. You’re brilliant." You kissed him harder, and he returned it, sloppier than usual but still full of heat. Then, somewhere between his hands gripping your hips and his lips trailing up your jaw, he murmured, “You deserve better than me.” You froze. Just for a moment. “What?”

He pulled back, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You’re up here,” he said, motioning vaguely upward, “and I’m down here, snorting lines off my goddamn desk.” You gave a breathless laugh, like he’d just told a bad joke. “Stop. Don’t ruin this.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said. “I’m just being real.” The air in the room shifted. He kissed you again, slower, deeper, more tender, and when he pulled back, his voice was barely a whisper. “You can do better than me.”

“No,” you said immediately, pulling yourself off of his lap, “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it.” He breathed out, lips pink from the kiss you two had just shared. “Heeseung..”

“You’re the kind of girl who makes it. Full ride, top of your class. Everyone sees it but you. And I’m the guy who drags you out of study sessions to fuck, who gets high instead of helping you write your essays.” The tears start to form in your eyes, the feeling of whats about to come claws at your throat and shakes your entire body. “I don’t care. None of that matters to me. I don’t want any of it without you.”

And that’s when he breaks. It’s not loud. Not dramatic. It’s subtle in the way his jaw tightens, the way he blinks a few times too fast, the way his breath hitches and his eyes gloss over, but you see it. He doesn’t cry, not fully, but the tears are threatening to fall. “You don’t want this life,” he says, voice low and brittle. “You think you do now, but you don’t know what it’s like to drown in it. You’d ruin yourself trying to save me.”

“I want to ruin myself for you!” you scream, throat sore from the truth of it. “I would do anything just to keep you. I don’t care what it costs me.” And it’s like a switch flips in him. His expression twists, darkens. He stands suddenly, turning away from you like he can’t bear to look. “That’s the problem,” he snaps, voice sharp now. “You’d throw everything away. Your future, your mind, your fucking soul for me? What kind of person lets someone do that for them?” He spins back toward you, breathing heavily. “You say I don’t hold you back, but I do. I already have. Look at you.”

You flinch like he’s slapped you. His chest heaves, while yours trembles. The room feels too small for the storm you’re both creating. “You think I want you to end up like me?” he says, quieter now, but with just as much heat. “Snorting lines in the dark because it’s the only way I know how to function? You’re not built for this, y/n.” You take a step forward, desperate. “Then help me understand it, let me in, Hee…”

“No!” he shouts, eyes wide now. “I can’t let you in. You don’t belong here with me.” Your voice cracks as you plead, “Then let me love you, please, you’re my life.” Heeseung stares at you like you’re breaking his heart just by standing there. And maybe you are. Then, something in his eyes shifts. The fight drains out of him all at once. His shoulders fall. His brows pinch like he’s physically in pain. He steps forward slowly, and he presses the softest, most painful kiss to your forehead. His lips linger there longer than they should. As if trying to memorize the way your skin feels before he forgets what warmth is.

“I’ll probably never love anyone the way I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. You shut your eyes tight. “Then don’t let me go.” He pulls back, and this time when he looks at you, it’s like he’s already saying goodbye. “I have to.” Your hands fall limp at your sides, you don’t protest again. There’s no grand door slam. No final dramatic words. Just the sound of your footsteps as you walk out of his room and down the hall. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It had been a month. A month since Heeseung kissed your forehead and told you to leave. You hadn’t left your bed much since it happened. Your sheets still smelled like him, and you refused to wash them. The air in your room was stale, but you didn’t open a window. You just laid there, still, like a corpse. 

Every single one of your friends had tried. Mina was the first. She’d climbed into bed with you in the early days, stroking your hair while you stared at the wall. She ordered in your favourite food, but you hadn’t touched a bite. Kira had shown up next, with a playlist titled “Healing Shit (or at least trying)” and a bag full of overpriced face masks. But your face stayed buried in your pillow, unmoving, no matter how gently she whispered your name. Koda and Wren came as a pair. They took turns talking to you like it was a script they rehearsed, one soft and hopeful, the other blunt and real. But even they couldn’t pull you from the hollow place you’d sunk into. Not even Koda’s dumb jokes could summon a smile.

And now it was Jay and Sunghoon. You heard the front door creak open from your spot in bed. You knew it was them before they even reached your room. Something about the heaviness of their footsteps. The way their voices dropped in the hallway like they were already mourning what they were about to see. “y/n?” Jay said your name softly, like he wasn’t sure you’d still respond to it, but you didn’t. Sunghoon stepped in behind him, his brows creased with concern. “Hey. Can we talk?”

Your body curled deeper into the mattress, a feeble attempt at self-preservation. You didn’t look at them, didn’t blink, just stared at the nothingness in front of you. Jay approached first. “Come on,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed. “We miss you. Just... say something.” When you didn’t, he laid beside you, hesitantly at first. One arm slid around your trembling frame as he tucked you into his chest, like maybe he could hold your pieces together before they shattered again. That’s when it hit. The sob tore out of you like it had been clawing up your throat for days. A horrible, guttural sound, ugly and loud and drenched in everything you hadn’t said. Jay just held you tighter, his jaw clenched as he buried his chin in your hair.

Sunghoon sat down on the floor beside the bed, leaning against the frame. His voice was low, soothing. “You’re not alone, y/n. We’re here. We all are. And we’re not going anywhere.” You still didn’t speak. Couldn’t. You just cried until your chest ached and your tears soaked through Jay’s shirt. You didn’t know how to live without Heeseung, and you weren’t even sure you wanted to. You cried until your mind shut off and you drifted into a tear induced slumber, you didn’t notice when they finally left.

Back at the apartment, Jay shut the front door behind them with a sigh, tossing his keys into their key bowl. Sunghoon didn’t say anything until they reached the kitchen, and when he did, it wasn’t lighthearted. “She’s not okay,” he said quietly, grabbing two glasses out of the cupboard. “Like, not at all.” Heeseung was sitting on the couch, slumped low, eyes glassy. The remnants of a high clung to his skin with a thin sheen of sweat, and faint tremble in his hands. He didn’t look up or didn’t speak up. He just listened.

Jay leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his voice laced with worry. “I don’t even recognize her anymore, Hoon. She used to be the brightest one out of all of us. Now she won’t even look at me. Just lies there like she’s waiting to disappear.” Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “She’s not eating. Mina said she hasn’t left her room in almost a week. I saw like five unopened water bottles on her nightstand. She’s not okay, man.”

“She's not even y/n anymore,” Jay added. Heeseung’s throat went dry. He stared blankly at the coffee table, at the rolled-up bill and the near-empty bag of coke. His chest caved in around the weight of their words. His stomach churned. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, trying to breathe. They were talking about her. He destroyed her, and now she was unraveling exactly the way he thought she would if he stayed with her. He stood up slowly, barely steady on his feet, and disappeared down the hallway. The door to his bedroom shut quietly behind him. And for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, he didn’t reach for the coke. He just sat there on the edge of his bed, face in his hands, and tried to figure out how to live with the ruin he’d made of the only person who ever loved him like he was worth saving.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It took everything you had just to lift your body out of bed. You moved like you’d been underwater for weeks, every motion slow, unsteady, and heavy. Your legs shook beneath you as you shuffled toward the bathroom. You didn’t even register the mirror hanging on the wall, you didn’t want to see yourself. You just turned on the shower, stripped out of clothes that smelled like you hadn’t changed out of them in days, and stepped under the scalding stream.

You stood there longer than you needed to. By the time you emerged, your skin was red and raw, your eyes already puffy again. You dried off in silence, tugged on your hoodie, well his hoodie, and slipped your wallet into the front pocket. When you walked into the living room, Mina and Kira were curled up on the couch. They looked up at you like they were seeing a ghost slowly reassemble itself. “I’m going for a walk,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. Kira straightened. “Want us to come?” You shook your head in response. “Just need some air. I’ll be back in a week.” They blinked. “What?” You forced a faint, brittle smile. “Kidding.” But your tone was unconvincing, you just walked out before they could press further.

The late afternoon wind cut at your cheeks as you walked aimlessly, hood up, headphones in, playlist on loop. The same seven songs you’d been playing for the last twenty-eight days. Lyrics you could mouth with your eyes closed, melodies that buried themselves in your bones.

You didn’t know how long you wandered before you reached your destination. One of the countless places he used to drag you to. A forgotten street, somewhere between two buildings that always looked like they were on the verge of collapse. You hung back near a busted fence, pretending to scroll on your phone while keeping an eye out. Eventually, you saw him. Heeseungs dealer. You made your way over slowly. He looked up as you approached, and recognition flickered in his eyes. “Heeseung’s girl,” he smirked, and you didn’t respond.

“I want a bag,” you said plainly. “Whatever you’ve got.” The man looked you over. “You ever done this before?” You didn’t answer, causing him to chuckle to himself like it was all a joke. But he still handed you the small plastic bag. You passed him two crumpled twenties from your hoodie pocket. He pocketed the cash and gave you a lazy nod.

“Don’t take the whole thing at once,” he muttered. “It’s strong.” You didn’t care. You walked until your feet hurt. Until you found a lonely curb near some graffiti covered alley, and you sat down. Your hands trembled as you opened the bag. You watched the powder shift. It looked like nothing and everything at once. Just like him. You shook a little onto the back of your hand, like you’d seen him do a hundred times. Tilted your wrist. Bent forward. But the second the powder neared your face, something inside you cracked. The tears came hard, you couldn’t stop them if you tried.

You pulled your hand away, the powder falling across the asphalt. You clutched the bag with shaking fingers, stuffed it back into your pocket, and stood up like your legs were no longer yours. You didn’t even realize where you were walking until you were standing in front of his apartment. The air felt thinner there. You knocked once, and the door swung open quicker than you expected. Jay stood there, mouth parting as soon as he saw your face. You knew what you looked like. Your cheeks were blotchy, and your eyes glassy. You didn’t even try to hide it. “y/n,” he said quietly. “Please don’t do this.”

“I need to see him,” you whispered. Jay glanced over his shoulder into the apartment like he was searching for an excuse. “You’re stronger than this. You’ve made it this far.” You shook your head, a small sob catching in your throat. “I can’t.. I just can’t.” He looked at you again, really looked. His expression softened, falling into something helpless and hollow. You didn’t need to say anything else, Jay stepped aside.

You don’t even knock on his door, you simply turn the doorknob and step inside, the air heavy and quiet, thick with the scent of old smoke and something sharper, something chemical that instantly floods your chest with memories. Heeseung is on his bed, a half-empty glass in one hand, his phone in the other. But the moment the door creaks open and he looks up and he freezes like he’s seen a ghost.

His entire face drops as your eyes meet his. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in for the last month finally collapses. You burst into tears. “y/n?” He’s already standing, his voice strained with disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?”

But you don’t speak. You just walk toward him, your legs barely steady, and reach into the pocket of your hoodie. You pull out the small bag of white powder, trembling fingers clenched around it like it burns to hold, and you drop it into his palm like it’s evidence. His expression shatters instantly. “No… no, baby, what the fuck is this?” he says, panic rising in his voice. He grips your wrist, gently but firm, and steps closer, cupping your face in both hands. “Did you… did you take this?”

You shake your head, eyes wide and streaming. “I couldn’t.” His thumbs brush over your tear-soaked cheeks as he tilts your head up, examining your nose like it holds the answer. When he sees it’s clean, he exhales in relief and closes his eyes, forehead falling against yours. Neither of you speaks for a long moment. The silence is filled with your sniffles, his staggered breath, the steady beat of time holding its breath, then he pulls you into him.

You crumble against his chest, sobbing so violently your knees nearly give out. His arms wrap around you like he’s afraid of letting you go again. “I love you,” you cry into his hoodie, fists clutching the fabric at his back. “I love you and I can’t live without you, Heeseung. This past month… I wasn’t living, it was torture. It still is.”

“I love you too,” he breathes against your hair, his voice cracking like something inside him is breaking open. “But I’m not good. I’m not safe. I’m a monster, and you’re… fuck, you’re pure light. You’re everything good and I don’t want to take that from you.”

“My light doesn’t exist without you,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him. Your eyes are glassy and red-rimmed, your face flushed from the storm that still hasn’t passed. He just stares at you, jaw tight, guilt swimming in every line of his expression. “You’re my worst desire,” you murmur. “Heaven would be hell without you. And even if we’re doomed to it, I’d still choose hell as long as you’re there.”

His brows knit together, like he’s trying to process your words and stop himself from falling into them all at once. “I don’t want to live without you,” you say again, firmer this time. “My love isn’t conditional. I don’t care about what you’ve done or where you are or what you think you’re becoming. The only place anything feels right is with you.” His chest rises and falls, slow and heavy. “I’m torn, Y/N. Between you and this deeper desire I keep giving into. This path I’m on… it’s dark and it’s fucked and I know it’s going to destroy me. And I don’t want it to take you too.”

You reach up, fingers touching his jaw, gentle and warm. “But I want you. Even through the dark times.” He swallows hard. “I want you. I want to be with you. I want to love you… but I never wanted to destroy you.”

“You won’t,” you whisper, “unless you keep pushing me away.” The war behind his eyes rages on but then, slowly, it softens. His hand lifts to cradle your cheek again, thumb brushing just below your eye. “I don’t know how to stop loving you,” he murmurs. “Then don’t.” You don’t know who moves first. Maybe you both do. But the second your mouths meet, it’s like something primal takes over. He kisses you like he’s been drowning and you’re the first breath of air he’s had in weeks. There’s nothing careful about it now, his hands in your hair, your arms around his neck, bodies crashing together like gravity had finally snapped.

It’s a kiss born from heartbreak, from survival, from all the pieces of your souls trying to find home in each other again. His mouth is hot and desperate against yours, tasting of longing and regret, of everything you’ve both wanted and tried to deny. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your heart pounding so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it.

Heeseung doesn’t let you go, his lips hover above yours, breath warm and shallow, and for a moment neither of you speaks. You just stay pressed together, hands curled in his shirt, his fingers brushing along your jaw like he’s trying to memorize the curve of your face all over again. Then he kisses you again, slower this time.

His hands cup your cheeks, and your fingers tangle in his hair as he pours every unsaid word into your mouth. It’s messy and a little frantic, but softer than before. Softer because this time, there’s no desperation behind it, just clarity. “I love you,” he breathes against your lips, barely pulling away. “Fuck, I love you so much.” You nod, tears still slipping down your cheeks. “I love you too.” He rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut like he’s trying not to fall apart again. “I’ll try to quit. I swear to you, I’ll try. I don’t want to keep losing myself and I can’t live without you. Not again.” Your hands tighten around him. “I want to be yours,” he says. “Like really yours. Your boyfriend. I want to be better, for you. I want to try.”

Your breath catches in your throat, then you’re nodding, over and over, and your arms wrap tighter around his neck as you pull him into another kiss, this one slower, and sweeter, like the kind of kiss you’d always hoped he’d give you when it finally felt right. Heeseung’s hands slide beneath your thighs, and with no effort at all, he lifts you off the ground and carried you towards his bed. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. 

He lays you down carefully on the bed, then slides in beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he blinks. You don’t speak for a while, you just lie there, tangled up together in the dark, wrapped in sheets that still faintly smell like him. His hand strokes your hair, your back, the curve of your hip. You feel his lips press gently to your forehead, your cheeks, the bridge of your nose.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between kisses. “For everything. For leaving you. For making you feel like I didn’t care. I was scared. I still am.” You reach up and trace his jaw with your thumb, your heart aching at how sincere his eyes look in the dim room. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “You’re here now. We’re here now.” He leans in, brushes your lips with his. “I’ll be better for you.”

“You already are.” You press your face into his chest and he holds you tighter. His heartbeat is loud beneath your ear, and for the first time in what feels like forever, it doesn’t feel like your body is made of hollow spaces and shattered glass. It feels like safety.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You wake up to the sound of his breathing. It was slow, steady, almost peaceful. For a moment, you let yourself believe that last night wasn’t a dream. That the pain is over, the ache behind you, and this is the start of something real. His arm is slung around your waist, warm and heavy, anchoring you to the mattress. You barely slept, too afraid he’d disappear again. But now, in the soft haze of morning, wrapped in his arms, you let your eyes close just for a second.

Until he stirs behind you. You feel the subtle shift in his body. The way his breath catches in his throat. His arm retracts like your skin burned him. “Wait…” his voice rasps, still thick with sleep, “what the fuck…” Your stomach drops, as you turn slowly, blinking at him like maybe you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

His eyes are wide and bloodshot. There’s dried powder crusted faintly under one nostril and a tiny streak still smeared across the back of his hand. “What are you doing here?” he asks, genuine confusion etched across his face. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. You’re too stunned, too disoriented by the sharp contrast to the boy who held you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth just hours ago.

“I came over last night… You said you loved me,” you finally whisper. “You said you wanted to try. That you didn’t want to lose me.” He stares, the silence between you gnaws at your chest like something alive. “I don’t…” he swallows. “Fuck, I don’t remember that.” The words hit you harder than a slap. You sit up too fast, the sheets falling away from your body as you shake your head. “You don’t remember anything?” His eyes flicker. Guilt creeps in slowly. “I was coming down. I’d done a lot before you showed up. I didn’t know-”

“So it didn’t matter?” you cut him off, voice barely above a whisper. “None of it was real?”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps, defensive now. “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything. You don’t even remember me being here.” Your voice trembles. “You don’t remember kissing me. You said you’d try to quit. You asked me to stay.” He runs both hands through his hair like he wants to rip it out. “I meant it, okay? I meant it in the moment.”

“But the moment’s gone,” you say bitterly, standing from the bed. “And now we’re here.” Heeseung gets up too, anger simmering under his skin. “What, you want me to magically fix everything overnight? You think it’s that simple?”

“I never said that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N? You want me to turn into someone I’m not?”

“I want you to have not been high last night!” you yell, the words coming out strangled. “I want you to care! I want you to stop making me feel like I’m the only one who’s trying!” He’s pacing now, barefoot on the floor, frantic and twitchy. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like in my head. I’m not built for this shit.”

“I know you’re not,” you say, voice cracking. “But I thought maybe you’d try. For me.” He freezes. His back is to you, shoulders tense. “I want to. I just… I don’t think I can.” You feel it again, that collapse inside your chest. The same one you’ve been patching together with hope and denial for months. “Then say it,” you whisper. “Say you don’t want this. Say you don’t want me.” He turns slowly, and something in his face softens. It almost breaks you. “I do want you,” he admits. “But I want this too.” He gestures vaguely to the room, the remnants of his high, the destruction he clings to like a security blanket. “And that makes me a monster.”

You step back like the words physically hurt. “You said I was your angel.”

“You are.” His voice cracks. “Which is why I need you to go.” You shake your head. “You told me you loved me.”

“I do,” he breathes. “God, I do. But I’ll ruin you.”

“You already did. I just got you back, Heeseung…”

The silence stretches thick between you. Then he takes a step forward, like he might try to hold you, but you back away. You can’t do this again, not when he couldn’t even remember the night before. He swallows hard, eyes glassy.  “Please,” he says, voice barely audible. “Don’t make me watch you walk away.” You blink back tears, throat tight. “Then give me a reason to stay.”

But he doesn’t. So you do the one thing you swore you never would.

You leave.

And like always, he lets you go.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

four months later

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Four months pass in the blink of an eye. The day is warm, the sun soft and golden overhead as you stand with Mina, Kira, Koda, and Wren, all dressed in your black gowns and sashes, your caps still held in your hands. The air around you buzzes with excitement, laughter, and the kind of bittersweet energy that only comes with the closing of a chapter. The moment your names are called, one by one, a flood of emotions washes over you. Pride, relief, even a sense of sadness.

And then you’re all standing in a circle, diplomas in hand, faces flushed with joy, and on the count of three, you throw your caps into the air, the five of you screaming and laughing as they soar above your heads and fall like confetti. It should feel like the beginning of everything. And in a way, it does. But for you, it’s also the end.

After the ceremony, you spot Sunghoon weaving through the crowd, his smile blinding, a massive bouquet of deep red roses tucked under his arm. He beelines straight for Koda, scooping her up into a tight hug, lifting her right off the ground as she squeals in surprise. “Proud of you, babe,” he grins, pressing a kiss to her temple. Then he turns to the rest of you, handing off flowers and congratulations like they’re going out of style. He hugs you next, warm and genuine and it makes your eyes sting just a little.

Before you can blink, someone else wraps their arms around you from behind. “Graduated and still short,” Jay teases into your ear. You laugh despite yourself and lean into the embrace. “I missed you too, asshole,” you say, wiping your cheek quickly as if that’ll hide how emotional you are. He holds you for a second longer, then pulls back, flashing you that crooked grin. “Proud of you. You did it.” You force a smile at his words, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Later that night, you all cram into a booth at your favorite Korean BBQ spot, the table stacked with plates of sizzling meat, clinking glasses, and side dishes passed back and forth. Everyone’s talking over each other, laughing too loud, singing along to whatever songs are playing overhead. Kira leans into you, whispering about how Wren made eyes at the waiter. Mina’s halfway into her second soju bottle. Koda is pressed into Sunghoon’s side like a missing piece finally clicked into place.

It’s familiar, and yet you feel like you’re watching it from behind glass. When Jay offers to drive you home, you don’t hesitate.

The apartment feels quieter than usual. Like the walls know something is ending. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of your suitcase, folding your last hoodie with shaking hands. The corners don’t line up properly, but you can’t bring yourself to refold it again. Your fingers are trembling too hard. Jay stands by your desk, watching you in silence. He’s been quiet since you let him in. He hasn’t touched his drink. He hasn’t touched anything.

You try to lighten the mood, forcing a soft chuckle as you zip your suitcase closed. “Guess that’s everything.” Jay doesn’t smile. “Doesn’t feel like everything.” You glance up at him. He’s staring at your suitcase like it just punched him in the gut. You swallow hard, “Jay…”

“Are you sure about this?” You turn away, pretending to check the zipper again even though it’s fine. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I wasn’t.” He takes a few steps closer. The floor creaks beneath his feet. “You don’t have to go, Y/N. You really don’t. You could stay. Start over. We could help you.” Your chest tightens. You press your palm flat against the suitcase like it’ll keep you grounded. “I can’t stay here,” you whisper. “Everything here reminds me of him.” Jay exhales sharply, and it’s the closest thing to a crack in his composure you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N…” He drags a hand through his hair and sits down beside you on the floor. He doesn’t touch you, but you can feel the warmth of him beside you, like a question. “I thought leaving would make it easier,” you admit, voice trembling. “But all I feel is like I’m abandoning him.” Jay finally meets your eyes, and your resolve breaks. 

The tears come without warning, hot and relentless, blurring your vision as you lean into him and bury your face in his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, holding you like he’s been waiting months to do it, like maybe if he holds you tight enough, he can keep you from slipping away. You sob into his hoodie, shaking like a leaf. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to leave him behind.”

Jay’s hand finds the back of your head, gentle, grounding. “You don’t have to leave him behind forever,” he murmurs. “Just long enough to find yourself again.” You pull back slowly, your cheeks soaked, your throat raw. “Promise me something?” He nods without hesitation. “Look after him. Please. I know he’s not easy. I know he’s… a lot. But I’m terrified he’ll destroy himself without someone watching.” Jay’s jaw tenses. “You really love him, huh?” You nod. “With everything. Even when I shouldn’t.”

He reaches for your hand, squeezes it tightly. “I’ll watch over him. I promise. But you have to promise me something too.” You look at him through watery eyes. “Don’t disappear. Call sometimes. Text. Hell, send a postcard.” You let out a wet laugh and nod, then fall forward into his arms again, hugging him like it’s the last piece of safety you’ll get to hold onto. “Let me take you to the airport tomorrow?” he says against your hair.

You nod into his chest. “Yeah. Please.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The blinds in Heeseung’s room are drawn, bathing everything in a murky shade of grey. His ashtray is full. The rolled-up twenty on his desk is crooked and frayed at the edge from too many nights like this. He’s flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling like it holds answers. His jaw ticks, fingers drumming against his stomach. There’s a weight in his chest that won’t budge, no matter how many hits he takes.

The door creaks open without a knock. It’s Jay. Heeseung doesn’t look. Doesn’t move. Just closes his eyes and lets out a long breath through his nose.

“She’s leaving.” The words land like a punch to the ribs, causing Heeseung to blink his eyes open. “Huh?”

Jay steps further inside. “Y/N. She’s moving. Tomorrow. “I’m taking her to the airport.” Heeseung sits up too fast, his heart dropping into his gut. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” A long pause followed. Heeseung scoffs, running a hand through his already mussed hair, the tension rippling through his limbs like a pulled wire. “So let her go.” Jay’s expression flattens. “Are you serious right now?” Heeseung shrugs, but his eyes don’t match the indifference in his voice. “She wants to leave. Let her.”

“She doesn’t want to leave, Heeseung. She’s hurting. Because of you.”

“Well, maybe she should’ve thought about that before falling for a fucking loser.” Jay’s voice goes sharp. “You’re not a loser. You’re just a fucking coward.” Heeseung’s head snaps toward him. “You think I don’t know what I am?!” His voice cracks. “You think I haven’t been dying every fucking day since I told her to go?!”

“Then why didn’t you stop her?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!” Heeseung roars, pushing up to his feet with such force the chair beside his desk shakes. His chest heaves, eyes wild and glassy. Jay doesn’t back down. “Then fight for her.”

“I did!” Heeseung yells again, slamming a hand against the wall hard enough to make a picture frame rattle. “I fought by letting her go. She was dying here! Dying because of me. She had everything in front of her and I kept dragging her back into my mess-”

“So clean up the fucking mess!”

Heeseung’s fists ball at his sides. Jay’s breathing hard now, too. “You sit here pretending you’re some tragic antihero who saved her by breaking her heart. But that’s not love, Heeseung. That’s fear.”

The words hang heavy, and Heeseung doesn’t respond. Jay stares at him a moment longer, jaw clenched, eyes filled with something halfway between rage and heartbreak. “You still have time to fix this. But if you don’t even try… then maybe you never really loved her in the first place.” Jay turned and storms out. The door slams so hard the walls shake. Heeseung doesn’t move, barely breathes.

He lowers himself back onto his bed, collapsing like his body has nothing left to give. He stares at the ceiling again, but this time, his eyes burn. His thoughts race, every image of you, every soft whisper, every tear you’d shed, every moment he threw away playing like a reel behind his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The airport smells like burnt coffee and fresh paper. You stand beside Jay at your gate, your suitcase at your feet, ticket clutched loosely in one hand, passport in the other. Your hoodie sleeves are pulled over your knuckles, and your headphones hang useless around your neck, silent for once. Jay is quiet next to you, his arm brushing yours every so often in silent solidarity. He knows better than to fill the silence with small talk.

Then, the presence of your friend group livens up the airport. You hear them before you see them, but you couldn’t mistake Koda’s excited voice carrying over the low hum of travel noise. You turn and see her weaving through the crowd, pulling Sunghoon behind her with one hand, the other waving high above her head. Behind them are Kira, Mina, and Wren, all bundled in mismatched layers, like they’d rushed out the door without checking the weather.

The sight makes your throat tighten.

They all reach you at once, surrounding you in hugs and laughter that feels too bright for how heavy your chest feels. Kira grabs your hands in hers and squeezes, her smile watery. Mina wipes her eyes before the tears even fall. Wren just hugs you so tightly your back cracks. “I’m proud of you,” Koda says, pressing her forehead against yours. “I can’t believe you’re actually going,” Sunghoon mutters, voice quiet but sincere. You try to smile. “Me either.”

But as they all talk over each other, asking about your flight, telling you to text them when you land, suggesting a ridiculous group chat name, your eyes can’t help but drift toward the crowd behind them, like you’re searching. Jay catches the glance. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches you for a long moment before gently tugging on your sleeve. “He’s not coming.”

You blink, startled by how calmly he says it. “I talked to him,” Jay continues, keeping his voice low so the others won’t overhear. “But… I don’t think he’ll show.” You nod, eyes dropping to the floor. You expected it, you told yourself not to hope. But hope is cruel. Hope has a sharp edge.

“I know,” you whisper. “It’s okay.” Jay doesn’t say anything. He knows it’s not okay. But he nods like it is, and you’re grateful for it. The loudspeaker crackles overhead, boarding group numbers being called. You glance down at your ticket. That’s you. “Well,” you say, forcing a bright smile, “that’s me.” You start hugging everyone again, slower this time. There’s something about knowing it’s going to be the last one for a while that makes your arms ache to hold onto them longer.

“You’ll call, right?” Kira whispers into your shoulder. “Every day,” you promise. Jay is the last one you face. His arms wrap around you with a familiarity that makes your heart ache in a different way. “Thank you,” you murmur. “For what?” He asks with a small chuckle to his voice. “For everything.” He squeezes you a little tighter. “I got you. Always.” And still, your eyes flick one more time to the crowd, searching for dark eyes, messy hair, broad shoulders. One more time for the boy who made and broke your heart all at once, but he’s not there. So you pick up your bag, and you walk away, waving goodbye to your friends as you approached your gate..

And you don’t look back.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The moment the plane touched down, a strange stillness settled in your chest. You were exhausted, emotionally rung out, and yet the moment the pilot announced your arrival in Sydney, Australia, your body moved on autopilot. New country. New air. New version of you.

You weave through the crowd in the airport, dodging people with overstuffed carry-ons and neck pillows clinging to their shoulders. Your headphones are around your neck now, but they’re quiet. The music that once drowned everything out is replaced by the hum of unfamiliar accents and baggage claim announcements. Your heart is thudding a little too loud as you make your way toward the carousel, scanning for your suitcase. It’s a sea of black and navy bags, all tumbling past with urgency, like they know where they’re going. 

Someone steps in front of you just as your bag slides into view, and you don’t see them in time. The collision is instant and forceful, your shoulder hits theirs, your foot catches something, and the next thing you know, you’re both on the ground, bags and limbs tangled in a graceless heap of chaos.

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry, are you okay?” you gasp, sitting up and scrambling to gather your bearings. “No, no, that was me, I wasn’t watching, shit are you alright?” a voice responds, rushed and sincere. Your hand brushes his arm as you both reach for the same fallen backpack. And then your eyes meet. Warm brown eyes. Tousled blond hair. Sun-kissed skin. A dimple threatening the corner of his cheek as he smiles sheepishly. There’s a pause. A stillness. The universe, just for a moment, seems to exhale.

You blink, and then he extends a hand to help you up, fingers curling gently around yours with a touch that doesn’t feel like a beginning, but like something inevitable.

“I’m Jake.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a/n ; omg guys I can't believe bad desire is finally here. I've been working on this fanfic for LITERALLY months, and then when bad desire came out I knew I had to find someway to incorporate it. but anyways, thank you so much for the love you gave the teaser and I hope you all like the full story! maybe there's room for a part two?

tag list ; @lostgirlysstuff @hoonprksung @nithxhoon @rayofsunshineeee @wooyugta @fancypeacepersona

[ddejavvu]

hear me out: hiccup is accident prone. his life is a constant near death experience. HOWEVER ✋🏻reader is a healer. and hiccup frequently sees her. like he’s

not getting hurt just to see her but OH NO he mashed his finger while working in the forge and it would be a shame if he had to get the pretty healer to fix him up. what a shame (he could 100% just wrap it himself but she is also down bad and will infiltrate him every time)

hiccup and healer!reader would fix me i think

Everyone knows the future Chief of Berk is what you'd call 'accident prone', but three days in a row of healer visits is starting to seem excessive. He's got a bruise on his cheek from walking straight into your door two days ago, black and blue as the blood breaks down beneath his skin. There's a cut on his eyebrow that you'd given him a salve for only yesterday, and he's standing at an angle because his prosthetic leg is bent out of shape. Of course, that's something he'll have to take up with Gobber at the forge, but all of it suggests that Hiccup has had a very rough couple of days.

"What is it this time, Hiccup?" You ask, but it's not a world-weary sigh, it's a worried glance up and down his body for any new, visible injuries. There's no blood anywhere, at least not anywhere you can see, which is always a good sign.

"Um, hi again." He limps into the forge, his dragon creeping anxiously behind him, eyeing the unbalanced prosthetic in case Hiccup falls flat on his face as he is wont to do, "It's nothing life-threatening."

"I think you're always life-threatening." You hum warily, "You're always threatening your own life. Is anything bleeding?"

"Maybe a little bit," He shrugs sheepishly, raising a hand to inspect his pointer finger, "I- uh, I hammered my finger. In the forge. And then when I was hopping around, using every swear word I've ever heard my dad say, I caught my foot under the bench and bent it out of shape when I fell."

"You smashed your finger." You blink owlishly, and he nods along, "And- you bruised your tailbone?"

"That's, uh, that's pretty much it." He nods vigorously, "Uh, am I able to get, like, a balm for that, or something?"

"You want me to give you a butt balm?" You raise one eyebrow, watching as his bruised face flushes bright red.

"Maybe- maybe not for the tailbone thing! My finger, though, it's- it hurts, do you think it's broken or anything?"

Just looking at the finger he's brandishing towards you reveals that it's not broken, but you take hold of it anyways, inspecting the very mild abrasion where the hammer had broken through his skin. It's a minor cut, merely a product of the finger being smashed, but if a bandage will make the future Chief of Berk feel better, then a bandage is what he'll get.

"I think you'll be alright." You hum reassuringly, reaching for the bottle of disinfectant you keep on hand, and rummaging through a cabinet for fine gauze to dress it with, "But I'll wrap it for you, and give you ice for your tailbone."

"Thanks," He hums, his voice now above you as he stands in front of your chair, watching you tend to his injury, "You'd think after fifteen years of working in the forge I'd know how to use a hammer."

"I wasn't kidding earlier." You remind him wryly, dabbing away at the cut on his finger, "You are hazardous to your own life."

"Probably," He hums, holding his finger stiff as you begin wrapping it, "How fast will it heal?"

"By tomorrow," You snort, "Keep the bandage on while you're in the forge, and when you're handling raw fish for Toothless- wash your hands, of course. And by morning it should be fine. Just keep it clean."

You secure the gauze and he steps back, smiling appreciatively, "Thanks, Y/N. I'll be more careful, I- I swear."

"Careful doesn't matter. You're accident prone." You inform Hiccup, but you're smiling kindly all the while. You drift over to your icebox, pulling out a hunk of the stuff wrapped in cloth to dull its icy bite, "Just try to get more of these little scrapes than you do, oh, I don't know, arrow wounds?"

"Got it." He nods determinedly, taking the ice from you and setting it in Toothless's saddle, "I'll see you around. Tomorrow- probably."

"I'll see you tomorrow." You chuckle warmly, watching as he limps down the steps of your hut, and promptly falls flat on his face in the grass outside.

[telephoniii]

hello! I saw your requests were open, so here I am :3 could I get the dorm leaders reacting to yuu/reader having random bruises? they are just from human stuff- like running into things by accident, dropping stuff, etc. but I think it would be interesting to think what they would assume first other than that! sorry for rambling n I give you my best wishes!

ACCIDENT-PRONE

☆彡 in which you find yourself getting hurt a lot

dorm leaders x GN!reader

word count: 200 per character

tags: pre-relationship, possible ooc, reader is prefect, first impressions

a/n: im going to try and post at least once a week but no promises. also im always getting random cuts and bruises that i have no idea how they get there. i hope you enjoy :>

riddle rosehearts

Riddle assumes you're doing it on purpose. No one could be that clumsy. You'll probably break a rule with how much stuff you accidentally run into or drop. And he'll definitely scold you for it. His tune starts to change the more he gets to know you. He will still always be the first one to chastise you, but also the first to get you bandaids and ice. He's worried honestly. He hates seeing you so bruised, even if it's from mundane things. Riddle will try to be more strict with you. If you're under harsher rules, there's a less likely chance of you getting injured, correct? Nope. You still find a way. At some point he stops trying to enforce so much onto you and instead shifts his focus to patching your wounds. He'll be making sure it gets properly iced! Even if it's a minor bruise. During unbirthday parties, he's going to be glued to your side. The thought of you accidentally breaking glass from a teapot or cup frightens him too much. If you call him out on it he'll flush a bright red out of embarrassment and explode on you a bit, saying that he wouldn't need to be doing all of this if you could just be more careful. Yeah, it's better to just silently appreciate his care. Because he does care, a lot. He's just bad at saying it.

leona kingscholar

The first few times he can brush it off as you being reckless. Most in Savanaclaw are. But once he spots a pattern? He thinks it's so funny. He'll sit you down in front of him and point at random bruises and scars saying, "What's this one from?" Then he'll proceed to laugh at you when you say you just tripped and ate shit. He knows you're tough enough to handle yourself. Don't let him touch any of the bruises. He'll press down on them purposely. If it makes you feel better, he'll jokingly call them your battle scars. Leona makes it sound way cooler than it actually is to other people. "Yeah, they've got a good amount of battle scars. Herbivore's pretty damn tough." This isn't to say he doesn't care. If you're around him and about to run into or drop something, he'll pick it up or stop you with his tail. He's got those beastman reflexes, it's light work for him. Whenever he does this, he's absolutely teasing you. "You really should be careful. It starts with breaking one glass. Then it turns to breaking an arm." Don't worry, his teasings always sound like threats. He doesn't mean any harm. If you're in a space with extra breakable objects, his eyes naturally watch over you; ready to spring into action at any second.

azul ashengrotto

Honestly? Might assume you're not human at first. It's common for merfolk to struggle at first when on land— he'd never admit it but he had such a hard time learning how to walk. Still has trouble in PE. When he learns you're just a human who happens to get injured a lot? A bit less sympathetic. Do not step foot into Monster Lounge. Please. Floyd causes enough accidents in there already. He doesn't need another person dropping glasses and food everywhere. Azul does not take any chances. He feels bad when you show him all the different bruises you've obtained. Being a merfolk means he's not super well equipped to handle human injuries. He doesn't know what to do other than rub it gently and wait for it to go away on its own. His solution? Just prevent you from getting injured! This means he’s baby proofing everything. You’re using plastic everything from now on. Plastic cups, plastic utensils, you name it. The scissors in your pencil case? They’re getting replaced with those kiddy dull ones. Hell, he might even put a gate in front of the stairs of Ramshackle to make sure you don't fall and tumble down them. If he’s with you then every time you pass by a table he’ll cover the corner with his hand to prevent you from hitting it. This man is doing the most. But it's all just concern for your wellbeing. He's cruel, but not that cruel.

kalim al asim

If you get hurt at his party, he's instantly apologizing and doing literally everything he can to help. Bandaids? Ice? Urgent Care!? ER!? Just say the word! The table you bummed into is getting put in the storage. You'll have to explain to him that, no, you're not dying. This kinda stuff just happens to you a lot. Once it registers what you're saying, he's actually over the moon happy. You're bumping and dropping everything, accidentally getting injured? Oh my sevens! He's bumping and dropping everything, accidentally getting injured! You two are twins! He's so excited just from your first meeting. He feels like you understand him. The things he does that cause bruises are never on purpose, it just happens! He'll definitely share those top-tier creams and bandaids that cost a ton but make them go away fast. Being around him actually makes your random injures worse. Because now both of you are getting double the bruises. Accidentally drop something on your foot? It bounced off you and hit Kalim's foot too. Kalim wasn't paying attention and rammed into the corner of a table? That pushed the table closer to you, causing you to stub your toe. It's like you two are spiritually connected when it comes to this. Jamil doesn't like having you over. It's nothing personal, but you make his job 10 times harder. Too bad Kalim absolutely adores your presence so you're over all the time.

vil schoenheit

Like Leona, he'll assume you're reckless. Except, he's got more distaste for those of that nature. He'll scoff every time he sees a new bruise... Until he hangs out with you and realizes that you are just the most accident-prone person he's ever seen. Vil will take it upon himself to try and train you. Remember how he was with the Fairy Gala? That's how he's going to be with you. Just not as harsh. He'll do that thing where he stacks books on top of your head and tells you to walk. When they inevitably fall and nearly tumble down on your foot, he's able to stop it with magic. However, he'll simply restock the books and tell you to try again. Vil is determined. When he wants something, he gets it. And right now he wants you to not be as randomly bruised as you are. Surprisingly, it kinda works. You're not bumping into as much tables or ramming your foot into walls anymore. Instead, the bruises are coming from random things fall on top of you. Are. You. KIDDING. When he's around, he'll stop these falling objects with his magic but unfortunately Vil is a busy man who can't be around you 24/7. So? Back to training! He's merciless as he trains you to dodge random things falling from the sky. It's a hard and long path, but when he sees the grin on your face as you dodge a book for the first time in the library, Vil knows it's worthless.

idia shroud

Assumes you're just someone who goes out a lot. Don't wanna get bruised? Just don't go outside lmao. Skill issue. It isn't until he allows you into his room that he realizes that, no, it isn't because you touch grass. It's because you're you. He swiftly learns that the hard way when he watches his entire shelf of figures just tumble over on you out of the blue, unprompted. "Alright, alright. You've got a friend that's consistently getting injured, Idia. Think. Think..." A lightbulb goes on in his brain as he gives you a toothy grin and unsettling laugh. What beats rock? Paper. What beats object? Armor! Why didn't he think of it sooner? You're going to be stuck in his room for a few days as he tests different robotic armor protection on you. To give him some credit, it works. You don't feel it when you ram into tables or accidentally drop something on yourself. But the people around you certainly do. A single touch of the table to this armor sends that thing flying. A random object dropping onto you is the least of your worries as a huge spike appears out of the armor to pierce it, nearly hitting the person next to you. So, yes. He has solved your problem. But in the most inconvenient way possible for everyone around you. Ace and Deuce are begging you to put down the suit of armor.

malleus draconia

"Oh dear. You're quite the unlucky one, aren't you?" And Malleus would be right. Seeing as you're one of his only friends, he doesn't want you to be getting hurt this frequently. Humans are fragile. What if the next rock that falls on you as actually a bolder? He can't fathom the thought of losing you. Malleus decides that he wants you around him. All. The. Time. That way, if not him, then his attendants can stop these bruises from happening. It's hard to explain to him that, no, you can't be around him all the time because different classes and dorms are a thing. Also, as much as you love hanging out with Tsunotaro, it's also very nice to have other friends. This poor fae is super confused. He takes your words as you wanting to get hurt. And why would you want to get hurt? Malleus struggles to understand, leading you to recruit Lilia in helping explain your case. Unfortunately, he's quite the stubborn boy. It takes talking from Lilia and the headmaster for him to register that he isn't allowed to have you by him all the time. It's disappointing for sure, but he'll just have to accept in. Due to this, the time you do spend together he's extremely vigilant to make sure nothing harms you. And during the times you're not, he promises to heal your wounds with his magic.

[lovemikewheeler]

I’d actually like to add to this:

Stranger Things is a left leaning show at its core. It’s a show about the outcasts of society winning for once, it’s a show about the nerds, and freaks.

What genuinely pisses me off is those same people who claim to “love the show”, made fun of 2022 Eddie cosplayers at conventions, that girl who wrote the Eddie song, and basic fan behavior. Hate to break it to you, but you’re watching a show about NERDS! Hate to break it to you, the core four dressed up as ghostbusters to school, all that is FAN BEHAVIOR. Nerd behavior, the same behavior you’re making fun of.

I also don’t understand people who are heavy republican who watch this show. I’m just convinced they have no media literacy whatsoever, because this whole show is making fun of you. When Ted says “the government is on our side” or “we’re all patriots in this house” how are you guys not getting it? The subtext is clear as day, and do not hit me with that shit “keep politics out of fandom!” Guess what, the damn show you claim to love so much brings it up for you. Hate to ruin your day, but art has been political and always will be.

Last thing, how the fuck can you be sexist and homophobic and watch Stranger Things? I’m bringing this up specifically because I had just recently rewatched season 4 with my family, and my dad was making constant remarks about how he thinks Stranger Things is shoving a “feminist agenda” down his throat. I asked him to elaborate, he told me that Nancy Wheelers job isn’t to hold a gun, because her and Steve should be swapping places, Nancy should be with the kids to teach her how to be a mom, and Steve should be the “protector”. First of all, did we watch the same fucking show? Seriously, and side note: Steve is a BADASS! And I could go on and on about their character development and how Steve’s aspirations differ from Nancy’s but we all know these people won’t listen. Stranger Things is a show that constantly challenges societal expectations, and shatters traditional ideas of gender. They did this with Max being a love interest, she’s “tomboyish” and not stereotypically feminine. Nancy doesn’t desire a life of being a stay at home mom and having kids, she desires being a top reporter at the big city, going to college. In the beginning of season 3, I was completely convinced Robin and Steve were going to get together, but by a pleasant surprise, Robin is a lesbian. Steve and Robin form a beautiful platonic friendship, may I even say, they’re platonic soulmates.

How can you watch stranger things, a show about the supernatural, a show about an alternate dimension, and a girl with fucking superpowers and tell me that it’s unrealistic for Nancy to hold a gun because she’s a women? How can you watch a show where a boy gets possessed by a being from another dimension and tell me it’s unrealistic for two childhood friends (who just happen to be two boys) won’t get together “because that would be gay”?

And don’t hit me with that shit “we need media literacy class!” WE HAVE 9th GRADE ENGLISH CLASS! Are you serious? It’s not media literacy, it’s media comprehension. Some people can’t admit that shows aren’t made for them. If you think like Jason, s1 Steve, or s2 Billy, THIS SHOW ISN’T MADE FOR YOU! Media literacy isn’t just reading words on a paper, or understanding the words of dialog on a surface level. It involves nuance, it involves understanding the underlying meaning, it involves understanding the themes of the content you’re consuming.

I know I came off much more aggressive than I typically do. I hope I came across is a way that’s understandable. I’m just really passionate about this show and what it means to me. Watching Stranger Things for the first time the summer before middle school, I was 9-10 years old. And I fell in love with the show, I grew up bullied just like the main characters. I grew up getting bullied for my race and my nerdy interests. I’m autistic, so I was an easy target. It just really upsets me seeing the same people who bullied me claim to love this show, because clearly you didn’t watch it. Thanks for reading, I’ll go back to my usual lighthearted posts now.

saw a TikTok comment that I think deserves to be shared

[pucksandpebbles]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒋𝒉⁸⁶

nurse!reader x jack hughes

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Jack's always there for you after a long night and a hard shift. When you come in late at night and exhausted from work, he's quick to be by your side.

a/n : wrote this short one because i wanted to get something out, haven't really written for jack much and am maddened because the pitt is unavailable to watch in the uk wtf! i have not checked this over so do let me know of any mistakes because its late at night and this was written while also watching hawaii 5 0. also remember to show some love <3

wc : 1k

The door of the apartment closes softly behind you as you gently push it shut, flush to the door frame. Once you slide the key into the lock and hear the familiar click of the door locking, you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Every sound is amplified in this silent darkness so you immediately untie the laces of your shoes with quick and nimble fingers, not wanting to wake up Jack, who is almost certainly fast asleep by now. 

Tucking your shoes into their designated corner, you move onto the next task as you move further into the apartment. It’s your coat that comes off next, pulling it off delicately and hanging it next to Jack’s jacket on the coat tree, leaving you in your work gear. 

For a moment, you look around, survey the apartment - Jack always makes sure after a long night shift you come home to a clean apartment kitchen. Tonight is no exception. On the counter, he’s left a mug with a sole teabag in it, waiting for you to just fill it up; he knows that he will be asleep when you return, but he still wants to show you that he cares. With a deep breath, hoping the noise isn’t loud enough to wake him, you flick on the kettle and let the water inside bubble up into a boil. 

As it does so, you pull off the scrubs that you’re wearing, almost tripping over your own feet, leaving yourself in just your underwear and pull yourself onto one of the bar stools with exhausting lining your bones like lead. With soft precision, you lower your head to the cold, hard countertop, listening out for the click of the kettle turning itself off and letting the adrenaline wash off your bones for the first time all night. This is the first time you’ve managed to take a proper break in what feels like days.

There’s a whispered voice that comes from behind you that forces you to raise your head, “Baby?”

When you curl your head around, ignoring the way your stiff neck strains with the effort, standing there, in little more than his sleep shorts, you sigh, “Jack, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

You drop your head back onto the counter and let your eyes flutter closed as you sense Jack’s presence approaching. His hands tug at the hair tie which is barely managing to keep your hair in it’s sad and sagging bun, you feel him pull at it until it comes loose and your matted hair waterfalls around your shoulder. Carding through the loose strands of your hair, Jack leans in to hush soft words in your ear, 

“Do you still want your cup of tea.”

Pulling your hands up to ruffle at the hair on your aching head, you groan out, “Yes please.”

With your eyes still screwed shut, you listen as Jack pours the hot water into the mug and how he clinks around looking for a spoon and getting out the milk to pour in. In the minutes it must take Jack to make your tea, you drift out of consciousness, slipping under to the sweet call of sleep.

You jolt awake again to Jack’s voice, “Sweetheart, I think we should get you to bed.”

“Hmm?” You hum, exhausting lacing your bones with confusion. You feel like you’ve missed a chapter.

“Bed for you, I think.”

Grumbling placidly, you say, “Okay.”

Jack has a comforting hand on your arm and with his other hand encourages your head up from the table top to look at him. You blink at the light, Jack must have put on one of the overhead lights. He’s looking at you from above with that crinkle between his eyebrows which indicates to you his concern, you study the worry and then the rest of his face - his too-long curls fall just over his face into his eyes and he looks just as tired as you feel.

With soft and pliant limbs, you let Jack pull you up to your feet and lead you towards the bedroom, you huff as you drop to the bed and let him drop to sit down beside you, helping you as you shuffle out of your bra. 

He pulls a t-shirt that must be one of his over your head and guides you under the soft sheets; his warm hands leave you but they’re back again in a second, swiping a warm washcloth over your face. You let him take care of you as you feel yourself dropping in and out of sleep and then he climbs in beside you.

Under the sheets, Jack pulls you in flush to him and you drop your head back onto his chest. He whispers softly, just indecipherable hushing to you but it sounds like it’s echoing around the room.

“Thank you,” You murmur to Jack, letting yourself melt into Jack’s strong, cosy arms.

His grip relaxes around you as he replies, “It was a long night?”

“Very.” You exhale with exasperation.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, you can relax now.” He murmurs back, fingers brushing through your hair and his body a stable and soothing presence by your side. He is right by your side. Always. 

Safe in the knowledge that he is taking care of you, you let sleep finally wash over you and flit your eyes closed, slackening your muscles and dropping further into the mattress and Jack’s soft hold on you.

As you drop off into the darkness, you hear Jack’s voice, distant and mellowed and you slip away gently.

“I’ll always be by your side baby, just relax, I’ve got you. I love you.”

You love him too. That he will always be there to do this for you, to take care of you when you’ve spent all your energy doing the same for others. He’s perfect, and you couldn’t ask for anything more. He presses a tender kiss to the back of your head.

“I love you, Jack Hughes.” You let the words slip out of your mouth as the final ones before your exhaustion catches up with you and you’re out like a light.  

[emeraldserenade]

Imagine being raised in such a way the reader becomes submissive and a people pleaser and like just have an unhealthy way of living which Joaquin notices

Like at first its cute but after it just gets too much and he's getting more and more worried

Perhaps shes there like sugarcoating everything and if there's smth wrong or of shes struggling and all she doesnt say a thing and just tries to do everything herself like in an unhealthy way and she brushes off any concerns he has

Maybe shes surrounded by toxic people all the time to the point that even shes feeling so low, she just sticks to it and is terrified to lose them because she struggles to form other relationships with people aside from Joaquin

Maybe she gets too attached to him that she'll do anything he says because he's the only nice person shes with and doesnt wanna lose him

Or maybe perhaps he unintentionally raised his voice by accident and out of stress or smth and she gets scared and tries to hide her tears, looking down on the floor, and just holds it in

Maybe Joaquin tries to teach her a healthier way to live and what to not accept like "if someone ever says XYZ like the way I did just now, dont ever go near them again and cute them off" etc

People Pleaser ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You were always a people pleaser and Joaquín promised to help you learn how to live without the toxic teachings of your parents

tw: fem!reader, reader has toxic parents and friends, Joaquín accidentally yells at reader, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! As a chronic people pleaser, this was a little personal (thankfully I have a good relationship with my parents) so I hope this was what you wanted. I also wanted to add on that if anyone ever reads my stories and notices something that needs a warning but I didn't add it, you can tell me (nicely) that I need to add it and I will.

➽──────────────❥

You were raised by very traditional parents. The type to say women should be seen and not heard, that they were made for the kitchen, and to do whatever they're told you. You learned over the years that it wasn't true but it was hard habits to break. You found comfort in people acting like your parents, the type who step all over you.

But then you met Joaquín, it was a chance meeting. One day you were on a run and you twisted your ankle so you took a break. "Hi, are you ok?" Joaquín had saw you sitting on the side of the running path while holding your ankle.

"Oh, hi, yeah, I'm fine," you waved off his concern but it seemed he didn't believe you.

"What's wrong?" Joaquín had to ask again, he was a helper by nature.

"Just landed on my foot oddly, I'll be fine," you brushed is concern off again and Joaquín thought it was you just being polite.

"Are you sure? Because I can help you back to your car or something," Joaquín offered but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine in a few minutes," you assured him with a small smile.

"I'll stay then, just so you aren't alone," Joaquín sat down with you and you tried to tell him it was ok but he wasn't having it.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín thought your willingness to help him out with anything was cute. That you just had a crush on him like he did you, and you did. So you two started going out and Joaquín started to meet the other people you surrounded yourself with.

Then Joaquín saw how you truly acted with others. You acted as if you weren't worth attention unless you were giving someone something or doing whatever they wanted. You would allow your so called friends to yell at you and push you around without so much as a grimace. Joaquín noticed you seemed to seek out the people who treated you horribly and he seemed to be the exception.

Then something changed, you started to distance yourself from people. You hated hanging out with people and Joaquín noticed, if he was with you, you no longer had someone else blowing up your phone for favors. In fact, you were doing everything Joaquín said. "I don't think you should be friends with them anymore. They aren't treating you like a friend, they're treating you like a servant," Joaquín casually told you one day and then the next day you were telling Joaquín that you were no longer friends.

If Joaquín told you that you needed to get something checked out, even if you brushed off his concern, you would automatically go to the doctor. If Joaquín suggested you try something new, you were trying it. It started to become concerning and when Joaquín brought it up with Sam, Sam asked about your childhood. Joaquín explained the small amount he knew and Sam asked if you were doing everything Joaquín said because you felt like this was how a relationship was supposed to work.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

When Joaquín brought it up you denied it, you knew Joaquín would be mad if you admitted. So you lied but he could tell you were lying. It made him mad, not at you, but at how you were raised. "God," Joaquín mumbled as you denied it again. "Can you just listen?" Joaquín accidentally yelled, he wanted to stay calm but you wouldn't stop lying. Joaquín automatically felt bad when you looked down and your shoulders went tense.

"Sorry," you whispered, it was clear you were trying not to cry.

"Hey, hey," Joaquín gently pulled you into his arms. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell, mi vida," Joaquín comforted you as you calmed down. "If anyone, and I mean anyone including me, ever talks to you like that again, you cut them off and never look back, ok?"

"Even if they didn't mean to?" You gently questioned, not trying to be difficult you were just trying to understand.

"If they truly didn't mean to, that's up to you," Joaquín told you, he knew if he said yes you would listen to it no matter the circumstances. You pulled out of Joaquín's arms and looked at him in the face.

"You make me feel safe," you told Joaquín. "It's why I want to do everything you tell me, I don't want to lose the one person I feel safe with," you admitted, voice shy.

"You're not going to lose me if you don't want to do something for me, ok? My love for you isn't circumstantial, it's unconditional," Joaquín assured you with a kiss to the forehead.

"You promise?" You didn't mean to sound insecure, but that's how you were raised.

"I promise, mi amor," Joaquín pulled you into a real kiss, one that promised that he would help you learn real love. How to make meaningful relationships that don't suck the life out of you.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[sydwritess]

Love All The Way Through

Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

Summary: You have always been a big fan of f1, especially Ferrari. Your friend Charles always invites you to races, until one day you meet someone particularly special.

Second Person POV

Warning: swearing, age gap (around 10-15 years)

Notes: requests are open!

01 02 03 04 05

You are a well-known influencer around the world. Sure you don't have that big of a fan base, but when you are recognized by people it gives you a certain type of joy you can't quite understand.

You still manage to keep a low profile when out, which you are also very grateful for.

Right now, you're walking through the Silverstone paddock. It was quite a quiet day because it was just days before the race. Your friend Charles had invited you, like any other race.

You walk around viewing all of the little shops and stands being set up as well as taking some pictures. Luckily, it was inside, so it wasn't as hot.

You were looking through your gallery when you heard loud footsteps behind you.

"Y/n hey, there you are." Charles said, jogging up to you.

"Hey Charles." You smile. You and him have been friends for a while, practically since the day you were born. Given that he's a couple of years older.

"Me and my teammate were going to go play some pool in our sports section. Do you want to join?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure. As long I'm not like intruding or anything." You say, calmly.

"No, no, you won't be. Trust me, Lewis is a chill guy." He says, smiling. You nod and start to follow him out to the sports area.

It is quite the walk, but when you get there, you feel relieved at the cool air as you walk in. Inside, it had a nice bar, pool table, and a couple of indoor games and activities. Outside, I had this nice pickleball court, basketball hoop, and some more sports like games.

You and Charles walk over to the pool table, noticing its already set up, but Lewis wasn't there.

"You should team with me." Charles smirks.

"Should I? Last time I recall you said I was bad." You say, matching his level.

"Woah, woah... okay, now I think you're pretty good." He says, putting his hands up in defense.

"Now?"

"And maybe before to." He smiles. He walks over to a little stand that holds the pool cues and tossed you one.

You chalk the pool cue as Charles does the same.

"Alright. I finally got George." A voice says besides you. You look up to see Lewis and who you assume to be George standing there.

"Y/n, this is Lewis and George." Charles says, pointing to the two of them.

"Hi." You say softly. The two smile and wave as they go over to the stand where Charles is.

"Wow, you actually know how to set the table up." George says, smirking at Charles.

"I'm not that new mate." Charles says.

"Are you playing teams?" Lewis asked.

"Yeah, me and Y/n, against you two." Charles says.

George comes around to the pool table which you are leaning on and stands next to you.

"Don't worry. I may be good but today you might have a fair shot." He says bluntly. You look past him at Charles who was staring at you.

"Is he always like this?" You ask.

"Sadly... yes." He says, you nod in agreement. You look further past Charles to see Lewis laughing to himself.

"Alright, since you're the best, Charles, why don't you break first." George smirks.

"Oh no, that won't be my doing. How about y/n."

The three then look at you silently.

"Uh- yeah, sure. I can." You say quietly. Everyone nods and gets in their spot around the table.

You walk to the end, lining the white ball up across from the rest and get your cue ready.

"Don't miss." George whispers, walking by you quickly.

"Is it illegal to hit a driver?" You ask, keeping your eyes on the target.

"Sadly, I think so." Charles said.

You hit the ball, making the triangle break in half, getting three stripped balls in the corner holes.

"Jesus." Lewis says, surprised.

"Told you she was good." Charles said. You went again, getting another one in, and then again, but you missed one.

Next was George's turn. With all of his talk you thought he'd be good, but he ended up missing two rounds.

"Mate your making is loose." Lewis teased.

"I'm off my game. I just got done playing tennis." George said. Charles was up next. He lined up the ball to hit the stripped one in but missed, making it bounce off the corner.

"Wow, you are bad." You say, remarking his statement from earlier.

"Don't blame me when we loose." He said.

"Your one-hundred percent to blame." You say, sitting at a bar stool near the table.

Lewis goes up next, taking his shot. He gets two in on the first time. One in on the next, you go up when he's done.

"Fancy seeing you here." A voice said from ahead. You look up from your spot to see Lando in the room, shaking hands with Lewis, George, and Charles.

Charles had introduced you to him a while back, but you never talked to him.

"Y/n." He said, smiling and waving. You slightly smile at him and then take your shot, making one more go in.

"Wow, you're good." Lando said, walking up next to you. "You should give me some private lessons." He smirks. You stand up straight from your position and look at him

"Your fresh out of luck. Not really into party people." You say.

"Oh darling, I don't do that anymore." He says.

"Yeah, right." George snickers. You shrug your shoulders.

"Then I guess I'm not into people who have girlfriends but hit on other women like it's some sort of joke." You say, looking through his deep eyes.

He opened his mouth but quickly shut it, his jaw tightening quickly. He walks over and sits next to Lewis.

You roll your eyes slightly as you get back into position, hitting another ball in.

"Wow, she shut your right up, mate." George laughs out.

"You can go straight to hell." Lando said, not making eye contact with him.

"For what? The truth?" Charles pipes in, smirking at his friend. You take your shot, the ball bouncing off the table walls. Unfortunately you miss, and go sit in George's spot.

"Guess you aren't as good as I thought." Lando remarks.

"And look who's still trying to flirt with me as they have a whole ass girlfriend at home." You say, keeping your eyes on the game.

"She's alright." Lando said.

"That's really fucked up. You should tell her that. See how far that gets you in bed tonight." You retort.

The rest of the group chuckles slightly as Lando sits still, frozen still.

"Girls got fire." George says, smirking, taking his shot.

"I just don't like people who act like teenagers, I guess."

"I don't want to mature, I like where I am." Lando says, quoting himself.

"Yeah." You point to him, holding his gaze. "That's your problem right there. That's the most frat-boy statement you could ever possibly make."

"Your just jealous because you can't have a man like me." Lando says.

"I want a man, not a boy."

"Oh shit." Charles smirked.

"You got your head too far up your ass for that one." Lewis said, laughing. Charles got in position to play again, he get's one in. The only ball left for your team was the eight ball.

"I'm betting on the corner hole." Charles says, pointing to it. He takes his shot and get's it in, making you win the game.

"That's how you do it." You smile, high-fiving Charles.

"And uhm... why would Charles be flirting with you when he himself has a girlfriend to?" Lando asked, making the groups eyes fall on you.

"Well you see Lando, when two people meet, practically have been their for each other since they were born, they become best friends. But you wouldn't know what a friend is would you?" You say.

"I have plenty of friends." He backs.

"Just like you have plenty of girlfriends?"

"Wow." George says shocked, getting the pool table up again.

"Well, I'm out. I've got a busy day ahead of me." Lando says.

"We'll miss you dearly." You say, throwing a fake smile at him before he leaves.

"You always pick fights with people?" Charles says quietly, smiling.

"Just people who can't use half their brain." You say, taking a sip of your drink that came around to you four.

"Just don't listen to him, he talks out of his ass a lot." He whispers.

"I think I got the hint." You smile.

"Are you doing teams again?" George asks. Charles looks at you for an answer.

"I'll sit this one out, and watch." You say.

He nods and then looks over. "Lewis?"

"I'm good man, you go ahead." Lewis says politely. Charles nods and walks over to the table.

George is the first to break, getting two of the solids into the holes.

The game went on between Charles and George. George winning by a lot. By now George had the eight ball left. And Charles had four of his.

"I call the right side." George said, pointing to the right hole.

He lines up, and takes his shot. The ball almost makes it in but bounces off the wall at the last second.

"Ah! I win! Take that George." Charles says happily.

"I can not believe I missed that." George said, smirking at Charles excitement.

"I'm buying drinks to celebrate." Charles says.

"We've got drinks." Lewis says, but Charles was already at the bar.

"Let him have his moment." George says, sitting next to you.

"So... you and Lando, huh?" George smirks.

"God no."

"How did that happen?" He asked.

"He tried to ask me out a few years ago. But I said no, went home, looked at his socials, and he already had girlfriend."

"He need's to get his head out of his ass." Lewis says, smiling.

"Tell me about it." You say.

"So... let's get to know each other, shall we?" George asked, crossing his legs.

"If you make it sound less creepy, than sure." You smirk.

"You have fans. Are an influencer." George says. You give him a look of 'how do you know?'

"I follow you. On Instagram."

"Right." You say. Just then, Charles comes back with a round of drinks for everyone.

"What are we talking about?" He asks, passing out the drinks.

"Y/n's big break." George smirks.

"It's... It's not really a break. It's more like people just know me." You say.

"How did you become famous?" Lewis asks.

"I did a couple of photoshoots for some companies. But that's really it."

"She says as she modeled for BMW." George snickers.

"Woah, you modeled for BMW?" Lewis asks.

"Well, yeah. But it was only a couple of times. And for a couple of clothing brands. But that's it."

"Did you get to keep the car?" George asks. You nod.

"Well, half paid." You say.

"Yeah, yeah, look at this." George says, showing Lewis a picture.

"Wow, that's amazing." Lewis smiles. "What brand?"

"M5, 2023." You say.

"Not as a cool as a Ferrari." Charles says.

"Way cooler than a Ferrari." You back.

"Well, I have a meeting to get to. It was a fun game guys." George said, standing up. You all said goodbye to him and he left the area, going back to the garages.

You, Charles, and Lewis all finish your drinks before heading down to the garages.

"I'll be right back." You tell Charles. He nods his head and you walk into the paddock bathroom.

You wash your hands quickly, from playing pool earlier and walked back out. It wasn't to busy inside, so stand off to the side, going on your phone for a minutes.

"Hey there." A voice says next to you. You turn and see a man standing there.

"Hi."

"You work here?" He asks, pointing at your shirt.

"No. I don't."

"You want a tour 'round the garage?"

"Nope, not really."

"Could be fun." He says, stepping closer to you.

"Not if you want a trip to the hospital." You say, looking up at him.

"I-"

"Is everything okay here?" A voice says, you look past the guy to see Lewi standing there.

"All good Hamilton, just talking to my friend here." The guy smirks.

"Friend? I don't even know you." You say, rolling your eyes. The guy gives you a look before walking away.

"You all good?" Lewis asks, stepping closer to you.

"Yeah, might've gotten kicked out if you hadn't shown up." You laugh.

"That's understandable." He laughs out. You both slowly start walking to the garages, explaining what happened to him.

Hey loves! First Lewis H fic! Comment to be added to this fic's tag list! Requests are open!

[formulafanfics13]

could you write Ollie Bearman dating physics student!reader please and thank you. 🐻❤️

gravity - OB87

Masterlist

summary: Ollie Bearman is fast, famous, and stupidly hot — and you’re just a university physics student trying to mind your business. He falls first. You fall harder. And suddenly, theoretical forces have nothing on the way he looks at you.

warnings: fluff, university AU, nerd x athlete dynamic, very soft smut (oral f receiving), protective Ollie, awkward academic environments, Ollie being a lovesick fool, clever/introverted reader, mention of anxiety, established relationship vibes

You meet him in the worst possible way. You're in the library, hunched over your thermodynamics notes, wearing joggers, a hoodie three sizes too big, and exactly zero percent of your usual social skills. You’re also muttering to yourself like a lunatic, trying to reverse-engineer a problem about entropy gradients when someone taps your shoulder.

You look up. And it’s him. Ollie Bearman.

Formula 1 driver. Walking meme. Public heartthrob. And apparently, a confused boy holding a Mechanics for Engineers textbook. “Sorry,” he says, voice low and very real. “Are you the physics girl?”

You blink. “The... what?”

“You helped my mate Alex in week two,” he explains. “Said you were some kind of quantum genius.”

“Alex cried during quantum.”

“Still passed.”

You sigh. “What’s the problem?”

He grins. “I need help understanding how the fuck potential energy is real.”

You groan. “It’s stored energy.”

“But it’s not doing anything.”

“It could do something.”

“So it’s imaginary.”

You grab his textbook. “Sit down.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone on campus to know. That you’re dating. That he’s obsessed. That the golden boy of motorsport is 100 percent, violently in love with the quiet girl who once submitted a complaint because a tutor misused the term ‘net force’ in a lecture.

At first, it’s awkward. He’s all media and adrenaline and fast cars and sprint races. You’re all caffeine and brain fog and equations and fuck, is this due today?

But Ollie slots into your life like he was born for it.

He walks you to class. Carries your backpack. Sleeps over and sets alarms for you. Sits in the back of the lecture hall and waits while you ask the prof things like “why didn’t you account for relativistic momentum?”

Your classmates are stunned. Your professors are quietly impressed. And the internet?

The internet loses its mind.

“HOW DID A FORMULA ONE DRIVER FALL FOR A GIRL WHO OWNS THREE CALCULATORS” “ollie bearman and his hot genius girlfriend” “you’re telling me the grid’s future champion is dating an undergrad???”

Ollie just laughs.

He loves it. Loves how different you are. How smart. How fucking sure of everything you say. Even when you doubt yourself, you never stop pushing.

He tells everyone who’ll listen, “She’s smarter than all of us put together.

Your anxiety gets bad around exam season. You stop eating properly. Sleep like shit. Spiral over problems you already know how to solve. You start thinking Ollie might get bored. That he should be with someone who isn’t too stressed to shower. Someone who belongs in his world.

He notices immediately. One night, after your last physics review, you crawl into bed and collapse face-first into the pillow.

Ollie watches you for a long moment. Then he says, “Do you know what I love about gravity?”

You groan. “What.”

“No matter how far I go, it always pulls me back to you.”

You turn your head. “That’s not even how it works.”

“It is in my version.”

You laugh, cracked and tired. And then he crawls over you, lifts the hem of your shirt, and kisses your inner thighs like worship. Like proof.

You pass every exam.

Ollie shows up to your results presentation in full Ferrari gear, holding a bouquet of wildflowers and yelling “THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” across the lawn.

You flush. He kisses you anyway.

[deerdogs]

hello transcripts from bits of lukey's meta talk/qna from 7/5/25 (chat msgs he's reading will be formatted "like this" and books 'like this')

some of this is also ambiguously between in/out of character so interpret that as you will. i transcribed the bits I thought were relevant or important, not everything.

topics covered: tr!Lukey's risk taking traits/moral ambiguity, tr!Pili and tr!Lukey against keepers, keepers as a whole and criticism on their behavior/structure, tr!Lukey in a position of power/knowledge, the null and it's bounds briefly, tr!Lukey and vulnerability, memory lane, tr!Lukey's relation to his trauma, tr!Lukey's age and time in the null

I wanna- Something I want to do is.. play into the more.. aggressive risk taking traits that tr!Lukey has. And, what I mean by that is- It's- I mean it's already like, it's already been made known that... you know, I-I bend the rules a bit, to- do what I want, right? To get what I want. Think of the entire, like, cure, right? Like, I was not supposed to be doing that research, right? I came out on top, and I came out correct, and that was like.. good. And I suppose that's the only thing that made it okay. But, the concept of... using more unorthodox methods to get what you want. i.e., enabling Pili, right? Which is a bit more of like a, a dirty play from the keeper's perspectives. But. It's, uh. At least in my eyes I think it's a bit of like a power move, right. It's "justifiable only in retrospect", right? So like, am I the bad guy.. to enable Pili.. if it creates a better change, overall amongst the keepers? Maybe. Will that power get to my head? (laughs) maybe. Will there be consequences? Maybe! Or maybe I come out on top too. "He was unethically experimented on" that's true. That's also true, is like. "for the sake of the long gain rather than instant gratification-" Like- the keepers have done some terrible things. And- of course I hold that grudge. I'm pretty subtle about it, at least on the surface level. But I don't let that go. "Two wrongs don't make a right" well I'm also aware of that, which is why I don't wanna go on like a- I'm not going on a massacre to kill all keepers, because I don't believe in that. I don't believe in- Whereas like, Pili- Y'know, is for entertainment. I think.. there is an issue with the keepers and something needs to be changed, but I don't hate the keepers themselves for existing and having more power. Because I have respect that they're a civilization right? Like- Grankeeper doesn't need to die to my hands (laughs).

Wheras Pili is like, 'the keepers need to die because they're stronger than us and they fuck with us,' I'm like- something needs to change with the keepers, right? Will I get my hands dirty to make that change happen? Maybe for the first time yes. Because it's a combination of my own justification plus the grudge i'm holding for how I was treated, right? And it's like- maybe, one or two particular people in charge, need to be knocked down a peg. But obviously, the keepers are... strong persay, -er than the average player. And so my response to that would be. A more.. nuclear option. i.e. Pili. Does that logic track? Because I don't have much else in my arsenal.

"so its justifiable to take jurassic action" Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. If I have to, I will. Once again- it's an unorthodox method to get what I want, but it's not the first time i've- used unorthodox methods, to- get what I want. For good or bad, right? With the sculk. Um, I can't remember- What did the High Keeper- What did the High Keeper book say? Because they made a particular comment about me that really stuck.

'Glad to see you haven't changed, LUCAS. I should have known that rotten defiance when I saw it. Next time, keep your "diaries" safe, you learn so much from them, hahaha. I shall keep quiet. For now.' Now I would never defy anyone [holding hands up like CAUGHT and smiling] Unless. (laughs) Unless I really, really believed that what they were doing was [wrong]. But like- this implies, like- this is a grudge from the past, right? 'I should have known that rotten defiance when I saw it.' Like- They're like, 'Shit. I know this guy.'

But yeah, that's where I am with the keepers at the moment. And that's why I've got Pili. Pili isn't involved in the issue yet, but Pili I think is like- locked and loaded. Ready to go. Right? It's a- It's a card i'm holding. "Pili is just lying in wait rn" Yeah- But Pili's dangerous too. Right? Like I wouldn't be taking risks like this with Pili, unless I thought I had to, and- Maybe I feel like I have to. Desperate times call for desperate measures- Pili is a desperate measure.

"time to escalate" Well-... Cause I don't even know if the keeper's.. have the cure yet. Which I'm- Like I'm happy to like-I don't even have the cure yet. My days. That's so awkward. Pangi has it- the egg. But as far as the keeper's [are] aware I've got it. But I don't know what they're gonna do with it. And I don't know if you can cure the keepers, I don't know if they want to be cured, I don't know if they'd gatekeep that knowledge. Like- The keepers play dirty. And I think it's because they're scared. I don't think it's because they're evil. But- It doesn't matter why they're doing it, to me it's proven that they aren't.... they aren't- qualified? They aren't capable? They aren't- They aren't fit to make those calls? And use us, or like- use the outworlders as like- puppets? "Professional?" Not even professional, respectful. Like- Like, human decency. "the keepers would definitely continue to use their powers to keep themselves in power,, they have a god complex with the powers to match" That's it. Yeah- Once again, I don't think all keepers are bad. But some of them definitely are. The ones- The important ones are bad, right? "the high keepers" I don't even know if it's all the high keepers, I don't know if Alpha, is still around and in the question, like... It's- bizarre. "he went missing-" yeah that's the thing, he went missing, was not confirmed dead or alive. Which means it is very possible that he's alive still. But I don't know his current motives, or why he's choosing to remain in hiding. If his kingdoms falling apart that's.. kind of an issue. I don't like the fact that he's- fled from his problems. Unless there's something I don't know but I haven't had that conversation.

- - past here he specifies that now he is officially ooc and meta talk

I would like to see a climb of power. For- tr!Lukey. Dude- Okay, this is meta talk now, officially, like, out of character. You know like- Okay, this might be a weird comparison to make, you know like- Sans? You know how he's just like a- like a weird grey area? Where it's like, he doesn't often do loads, but it's like he always kinda just knows what's going on. And how he's like... He knows about the different save files that are going on. Or like the different- Realms or servers and this that and the other. Right? And like- He kinda just takes it upon himself to keep things in check. Right? That like- sure, good and bad will happen, but like nothing too crazy world ending will happen, right? Does that make sense? Like he's not- He's not a front liner, but like, knows more than he lets on. "if trlukey got offered the position of high keeper do you think he'd take it" Position of a high keeper? ....I don't know if I wouuuuld. It'd wanna be- No, not like the other keepers. It wouldn't be like the other keepers. "[i] could fix it" Yeah, but- all the high keepers are the same, as far as I'm aware. Excluding, like.. maybe the original 7. Yeah, I'd rather carve out my own position. Or just like- "He wants to be something "New", not someone in a position of being controlled." Yeah, that's it. Something new, not a position of being controlled. Exactly. But it'd be cool- Okay, another comparison now. You know how like- in minecraft story mode, I can't remember what chapter, or what like- season, but like, in one of them. They're walking through that big hallway, and it's got all the- This is how I visualize, like, the realm lore. This could be wrong, this could be canon, I have no idea. But like- You know in minecraft storymode, and they have that huge- hallway, corridor, with all of like, the nether portals that lead to other dimensions. They're not actually nether portals, they're like, portals to different like, worlds. It would be really cool to see something like that visualized. And then.. just- Once again, not be a front liner, but.. be aware of what's going on within all of that. And maybe just take it upon.. oneself to- keep shit in check. Right? Like personal affairs aren't my problem, but.

Like, I could still have.. maybe the ability or knowledge perhaps, without the direct affiliation with the keepers. Or just operate differently. "like, you want to be a watcher and just know general information about everything?" ...Think of Sans. Like, what's his job/role. He doesn't have a specific assigned one, or at least it's not clear. That's- And that's it, is it's unclear. Does he time travel? Eh, don't really know! Is he, like- immortal? Eh, it's a bit of like a grey area. Like he's just there, and then it's until there's a real problem- [...] that he like, steps up.

"do you think if we will ever see the kingdom of null ? what it was like back then ?" That would be cool, to see like.. parts of it, how it functioned- cause I imagine it still exists, to some extent. But also, the null as I see it, and especially after seeing like Ros' castle and stuff, it can also be used as a place to archive, right? It's like sanctuary, right? It's why the keepers went there when the corruption got really bad. And I- I mean, I can traverse to the null. Which no one else can do. "you just cant get out of memory lane tho" Well I've never really tried. Now that I think about it. But yes, that's true. I've never just- gone out and about in the null. But I've never tried. I mean the ticket is 'ticket to the null'.

"Why is it, that tr!lukey never really speaks of his past to other people (not even tr!pangi or tr!aimsey)" Uhm, there's a couple reasons. I think a primary one is I don't wanna burden people. With my own burden. Right. Like- although what happened's bad, because I see it so logically I just know that telling people wouldn't change what happened. Right? And like with everything else going on- But then, also secondly, there's an element of knowledge is.. power I suppose? And- Being seen as overly vulnerable? Unless like- Like I wouldn't tell unless I was provoked to, right? Like unless I had a reason to. Like Water really pushed, and I was like- 'Fine!' and I gave like, the first little hint of a detail, that something had gone on and like the memory was wiped, right? "truth is currency" Yeah,... "you cant reveal all your cards and not expect it to be exploited" Exactly. But also, like, since I've been here, my past has kind of made me a target, right? Like, the nature of me just appearing out of nowhere, my possible affiliation with the keepers. And- I kinda learnt the hard way (laughs) to play it close to my chest. "not even truth is currency but information is powerful and a big currency in the realm" Yeah! And like once I say something to someone, like I can't- You can't undo that. They know now. They-They are free to tell- Whoever they please. And I can't- stop that. "i mean you did say pangi and aimsey can read memory lain if they want to" There's also- Okay, and now for like the more meta answer too, there is an element of like.. Like I know Pangi isn't- by playstyles, right? Whereas Aimsey probably would, not everyone else would- just read through pages, and pages, and pages of books. Right? Like I don't wanna be like- here's a whole thing like you can read up on. "i mean you did say pangi and aimsey can read memory lain if they want to" Well he can! Like he has the option to. Like Pangi can. The thing is, is like- I've told him. I've told him he can read it whenever he wants, he just asks me and he can go. But he hasn't. Like I wouldn't stop that from happening, if he said "Lucas I wanna read memory lane," I'd be like "Yeah sure." Like I don't need to- hold his hand through it. He'd be welcome just to go. But like- everytime I've been there, I focus on.. everytime I've taken people there, I've focused on the points that I think are relevant, right? Like, my work and the progress I've made. And.. the cure, and the corruption, which is the threat- And I just don't see my own burden as part of the picture, as- as relevant. And maybe that's- comes from a place of.. insecurity about it? Or just, like... ""Hey man can i hop into your brain rq i wanna read through your trauma"" Yeah like- (laughs) the trauma- I wanna read the trauma series.

"I wonder in memory lane might get longer, the time spent in the test tube was alot longer than the life before." That's true, yeah. "Does tr!lukey remember much of the time in the test tube?" Time spent in the test tube? Well- I mean, If you think about your week, IRL, right. And how much you've done. If you've spent all week in your room, in the same place doing the same thing, you'll find it's- far harder to remember the things that happened within that time, than if you were... on a road trip for example, or on holiday going to different places, on different days. So like- I suppose after a while, that time just blends into itself. There were- breakout attempts. (laughs) Probably- Probably back- at the time, the most exciting part of my day. But- yeah I remember, like I have all those memories, but I just- don't bring it up. I don't like being vulnerable with people. "okay but like... how funny it would be to be like "heres all this important stuff blah blah oh yeah I got tortured for millions of years in a test tube but thats not important, ANYWAYS! this othe thing..."" Well that's kind of what I did. That's kind of what I did! Was like- Like I actively led Aimsey and Pangi like, past all of the scenes, where I was trapped, and encased, and the whole kingdom as I knew it burned down. And I- I did! Like that's not even a bit, I breezed past that because I didn't see that as valuable to my friends at the time. It was just.. I just focused on my achievements, I suppose. "also the insanely prolonged solitary isolation and torture just. cannot be good for your memory or your ability to be vulnerable socially" Well that's it. I don't really trust.. a lot of people. And no one entirely. I think the one person I could probably trust.. with everything would be Newt. Right? Like- I don't think- No outworlder I could completely trust. And for the first time that's been tested, cause this whole- this whole memory sitch. "you focus on the good parts in your life so everyone thinks youre ok when most likely youre not" Well.. yeah! Like Newt has been there since the beginning. He understands- Like I don't need to tell Newt what happened he was- he was there. Like- when no one else was.

"come to think of it tr!pangi has a crazy age gap with both his major situationships" Yeah, the age- from a meta answer, my 'age' has.. it's a blurry answer? I suppose that does make me x amount of years old, but also.. my intention when logging on wasn't to- y'know, inact this... 3 billion year old guy. But also think of Sans, man. how old's he. "mental age is different though" It always has been (laughs) "could there be a point in the near future where we see tr!lukey having a bit of a breakdown due to all the trauma he's endured?" Perhaps, If provoked. Yeah. But- That depends on what.. "the null’s time doesn’t move so you kinda stayed stagnant so did you really age in there? or stay still?" Well, yeah- I wasn't affected by the null time. Right? Whereas everyone else, all the outworlders when they went to the null, they were like 'Oh my god, so-and-so million years have passed." But when I was reset for the first time, for whatever reason, I- came out pretty unaffected. [...] But yeah, having a breakdown, I've nev- It depends, it depends what would provoke it. [...] "the panic room" Dude. The lab's my panic room. [...] "speaking of, what are your thoughts in and out of character on “the safe space not being safe”" [he never got to answering this sadly.. started but got distracted...... sigh....]

end transcript.

[darklinaforever]

Seriously...

And this is the kind of bullshit we're going to fall into as Rujinu's shippers in the very tag of Rumi & Jinu himself !

It's not possible... (that or the bullshit that Jinu would be Rumi's father) !

If all you've learned from Jinu's character is that he doesn't deserve redemption except by death you have a problem, and you are also probably in the wrong type of story.

Because Asians (unlike you who can't stand complexity except when restricted within the framework of a very pure morality = he his complex but since he still did bad things he absolutely must die) are not afraid of villains who are entitled to redemption or they survive and get the girl.

We're in a very classic enemies-to-lovers scenario.

Plus, we have two people worse than Jinu at making the viewer accept redemption: the demon king and Rumi's guardian. You have to stop the bullshit after a while...

It's the return of Reylo I have the fucking impression. And this time I would have 0 patience.

Go to the anti tag to spread your hatred, or your pseudo superior morality which consists of redemption only by death.

It's tiring in the end.

This is not the intelligent speech you think it is.

In the minds of these people the enemies to lovers / Villain x heroine trope probably always ends with the guy dying because he did bad things I imagine, because otherwise it's not moral... 😂

" Bur why do you just want to summarize Jinu & Rumi as a romance ?! "

No one does that. Not that I've seen.

Those who ship are talking about the depth of their relationship and its complexity. And in its multiple facets and aspects precisely.

Unlike people like you who are just trying absolutely to remove the romantic aspect.

Seriously, what's your problem with romance ?

Whether you like it or not, their relationship with Jinu & Rumi is a romance.

A romance with a lot of facets and several stages but still a romance at its original heart.

I'm so tired if stupid people who who think they are intelligent.

And once again, these people will surely be very disappointed with the sequels, because thinking that Jinu deserves to be dead and will stay dead...

This is not only proof that you did not understand the film, what it tells, the characters, its scenario, narration, etc., but also that once again you are not used to Asian media.

Jinu will come back to life, it is almost guaranteed.

And will see his romantic relationship with Rumi probably develop with perhaps a happy ending at the end.

And I can't wait for it to drive, those people who think they're morally superior and see this story through the prism of purity culture (when it should not), crazy.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Stan just wakes up one day and is able to see a weird little frosting axolotl follow him around

(it's The Axolotl (I have literally nothing else))

Hoho! You've activated my trap card, 'au that has tickled the back of my brain but doesn't have a plot and exists as nothing more than a vague concept!'

So Fords new bff is Bill, the demon pretending to be a nice guy, who scams Ford into building a doomsday device. I was thinking, what if, when Ford summoned Bill, it gave the Axolotl permission to also interfere. Just like Bill picked out one human to bring his dreams to life, so does the Axolotl.

Except, in true mirror fashion, Stan does not believe this new pink lizard is his friend. If, and thats a big if, this thing is even real, its obviously evil. Its talking about 'feelings' and 'making personal changes' and how he's 'very important' and a bunch of other nonsense. Its trying to get him to second guess himself and keeps laying out 'what if' scenarios that are traps! Traps to keep him from his family!

Aka, the Axolotl is trying to steer Stan towards a better life (and to reach out to Ford), gives Stan advice like how Bill gave Ford 'advice'. Stan stops for gas? The axolotl tells him if he goes inside and asks, they're desperate enough for staff he can get a job, save up, and get an apartment. If Stan calls the cops on the mob right now he can cut a deal and restart his life. If Stan gives the last of his pocket money to the woman struggling at the store, he'll catch the attention of the business owner who will offer him a job, etc. Then a lot of stuff about 'Stan has his own worth outside of being a twin,' and 'it wasn't fair of his dad to give him an unreasonable expectation like getting a million dollars' and 'love is not transactional, he shouldn't have to prove himself to earn it, it should be freely given' and 'Ford was angry, and you were both young. Try reaching out as an adult and while he might be angry still, if you keep at it and be earnest he'll forgive you'

Basically 'give up your quest for a million, settle down in one place to get your feet back under you, and do some deep thinking about your feelings and relationships.'

Evil.

He is not listening to this thing, its trying to get him to doubt himself, trying to mess with his head! Everyone knows Stan's worthless without Ford, that a million might be harder than he thought to get, that if you don't have a use your not worth anyone's time or care, and that Ford won't be happy to see him until Stan can make it up to him! These are cold hard facts of the universe that he is definitely not curled up in the backseat of his car thinking about while the axolotl sits on his head and tells him about how his artistic talents are his own and how creative he is and how it thinks he's charming.

This thing is evil, and he is NOT! Its friend! He wants this thing gone yesterday because if it keeps telling him how much it likes him there's no telling what he'll do (cry).

Hmm. Sudden thought. Just like Ford makes a deal with Bill, Stan makes a deal with the axolotl, except where Bill proposes his, Stan begs the axolotl for help. They've been with each other for a few years now, and Stan gets in way over his head, almost dies. Maybe its the trunk incident, maybe its him losing his kidney, whatever it is, Stan's loosing it, and if he drops he's gonna die. Desperately asks this little lizard for help, even if he knows its evil and out to get him specifically and also a demon trying to take his soul. Where Bill's deal is that he can take over when Fords asleep, the Axolotl can only do it if Stan's in danger.

Like if he gets branded in an secret basement while an inter dimensional portal is active.

Ford brands Stan, Stan goes down screaming, then gets up, calm expression on his face and eyes pitch black. pushes himself to his feet, goes over and shuts the portal off, then looks at Ford (frozen, freaking out), and tells him he knows he's under a lot of pressure and stress, and didn't mean to say all those hurtful words, and that Stan didn't either. How about we try that again :3

Well, Stan's eyes aren't yellow but that doesn't really make Ford feel better, as his brother is obviously possessed by something.

Funniest thing would be it the Axolotl dodges Ford's swings, knocks him out, then just sits on his body while Bill rages and screams about how unfair this is! Its cheating! Its not supposed to be here, it can't interfere!

Just fun times with Axolotl-Stan and Bill-Ford, the Axolotl's not leaving Stan's body while he's in danger, and oh no! This giant portal and the demon in Fords body is very dangerous :3 Ford better figure it out if he wants the Axolotl out of his brother :3 The Axolotl won't help him (as Bill is right in that it can't directly interfere with his schemes like that) but it'll sit there and let Ford treat the brand and talk about 'Stan's expectations to sail into the sunset were unrealistic and somewhat childish, but Ford not communicating his own feelings and expecting Stan to just understand his change of priorities without talking to him were also' and 'you were both children, it wasn't your job to stop your dad, and not doing so while emotionally charged isn't your fault' and 'Stan might have lived a hard life, but he chose not to tell you, while expecting his life to be great was unrealistic, there was nothing you could have done because Stan never reached out and was always on the move, his life isn't your responsibility'

When Ford eventually gets to talk to Stan again they both agree that the Axolotl is very evil.

[a-998h]

"Protection" of the Pride

READER GETS PUSHED OFF A HIGH ROCK IN A DREAM!

Why is Savannahclaw so fucking hot?! Sweat soaks through the Heartslabyul outfit and Grim looks like a grey fluffy puddle on the ground. It also smells like Old Spice, or whatever the equivalent is in Twisted Wonderland,everywhere which doesn't help.

"You ok, MC?" A brown haired boy asks.

"I think we're melting," I say, sweating like a waterfall.

The moment I say me and Grim are melting Jack comes over with folded clothing. He says it's an old dorm uniform they think should fit me. I try to protest but they won't hear it.

"Fine, I'll put them on," I say.

Jack has me follow him to one of the dorm bathrooms. When we get to one of the many rope bridges I go to take a careful step.

"Oh no you don't. We can't let you cross alone, you have the balance of a baby gazelle," Ruggie says from behind, laughing his regular teasing laugh.

"Whats that supposed to me?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything as he scoops me up and puts me over his shoulder. He laughs as I try to get myself off his shoulder. Jack keeps walking like he didn't just watch me get manhandled and Ruggie bounces across the rope bridge. When we get to the door Ruggie puts me down and pats my head with a laugh.

"Just give me the clothes," I grumble.

Jack hands me the clothes but I notice neither of them are moving. I ask what they're doing and Ruggie says they have to keep guard. I give them a look and ask if they're joking, and they nod, saying it was Leona's orders. Sighing I lock the door and change.

The dorm uniform shirt is baggy, like very baggy and the end hangs out around my mid thigh. The pants aren't that much better and I have to role them up at the cuff. The shoes are a bit big but I don't really care at this point. The gloves are the only part that vaguely fits and the jacket also hangs low. I get to the thing I think is supposed be a belt and I just do what Ruggie does with it.

A knock is heard on the door just as I put it on as a scarf.

"What?" I ask.

"Are you alright?" Jack asks.

"It's only been a few minutes," I yell back.

"You’re one of the most valuable, it's natural we get worried," he says back.

I open the door, wanting to asking Jack what the hell he meant by that but then I hear Grim yelling.

"Leave me alone!" He yells.

I look down over the rope railing and see Grim fleeing from a group of students. Worried I run down back the way I came, ignoring the yells of Jack to be careful and Ruggie to come back. But the time I reach the ground floor Grim hides behind me and the group of students stops the chase. I ask them what the hell is going on and they hold up a Grim sized bandana that looked like the belt/scarf piece of the dorm uniform.

"We need to put this one him, so the others know you belong with us and not to Heartslabyul, because they stole you!" a red haired bat fox beastman explains with much enthusiasm.

I wanted them to explain what the hell that was supposed to mean but I was a bit nervous, because last time I checked Grim's magestone was still in Heartslabyul. Also, why are you calling them thieves because you lot fucking stormed into Heartslabyul, manhandled us, and brought us here!

Ruggie sneaks up behind Grim and grabs him while the bat fox beastman takes off the collar from Heartslabyul and ties the bandana around Grim's neck in its place. Ruggie finally lets Grim go and says that it looks good while scolding me for running down here.

"I thought Grim was in danger!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, but you're one of the sofest and most valuable member of the pride. We can't just let you run off, you might get snatched by someone," Ruggie says, pitching my cheek like a teasing grandma.

I rub my sore cheek and wait for anyone to say that Ruggie was joking, but they all seem to be agreeing, even Jack! Me and Grim stare at them, wondering how we're gonna get out of this but our thoughts are interrupted by Jack picking me up brial style and cradle me to his chest while holding Grim. It feels like he's trying to smoother us with his pecks and I try to pull away.

"Don't fuss, I don't want to drop you," he says in a tone I feel like he uses for his little siblings.

The others laugh at my situation and I flip them off over Jack's shoulder and one of them grabs and pulls on my finger until I apologize. Grim flops over Jack's shoulder, yelling at the others and someone picks him up and holds him like a sack of potatoes.

We both mentally grumble at the situation because if I thought Heartslabyul was nuts this is equally bad. It's Heartslabyul I had to play mind games, but here I have to have physical strength to overpower them... Yeah, I have a better change of seeing the Seven in person.

"You ok? You look a bit red," Jack says.

"Well, it feels like I'm being air fryed while being as dry as a very depressed desert tortoise. But other than that I'm fine," I joke.

They don't take it as a joke, instead they put me and Grim on the couch while looking for something to keep us from being easy bake students and something to drink. I look and see the brown haired boy opened the fridge, and that there is those werid healthy meal replacement shakes that taste of awful , electrolyte water I'm pretty sure is water with fancy packaging, and milk.

Ruggie comes over and places cool cloths on our foreheads, which makes us sigh in relief. I thank him and he's says its no big deal. Grim goes puddle mode and falls asleep, lucky.

I hear yelling and look, seeing two students fighting over which flavor of the werid shakes I'd like while someone else pours some milk into a bowl for Grim. It's kind of funny to watch them argue but I'm also worried that it will escalate to the use of magic pens.

Somehow it turns into an arm wrestle while Ruggie sweeps in and grabs one of the water bottles and the bowl of milk while the arm wrestling happens. He puts down the bowl and hands me the water bottle with a smile I wouldn't trust if my life depended on it.

"Shut up, all of you!" Leona roars as he storms into the common room.

Everyone freezes and looks at him, his tail swaying back and forth while his ears twitch slightly. He looked more pissed than normal and the once loud common room is so silent even the bugs outside stopped their songs.

Leona crosses his arms, silently demanding an explanation from his dorm members. But, how do you explain "we were fighting over which flavor of powdered sadness the prefect would like" without sounding like idiots. Someone tries to explain but Leona isnt hearing it. I use this moment to stand up and try to leave, moving slowly while everyone is focused on not kissing off Leona, until I hear yelling.

"Herbivore! Fireball! Where are you two going?" He bellows.

I freeze mid step as everyone turns to look at me while I'm holding Grim in a "princess hug". The guys part like the Red Sea as Leona storms towards us, looking down at us. We nervously smile and he grabs me but the back of my jacket, holding me like a mama cat does with her kittens.

I try to free myself but he just rolls his eyes and drags me with him.

"Now, I'm going back to my nap and I'm taking the Herbivore and Furball with me since you clowns can't keep an eye on them!" He yells at the others.

Leona's room is large and reeks of sweat and Old Spice like the rest of the dorm. Unlike the rest of the dorm it's cool, relatively speaking, and dark with dirty clothes scattered on the floor. He plops me down on his bed before laying down himself. I try to move away but he grabs me and pulls me to his chest. Grim has to reposition himself to sleep on top of Leona or he'd probably be squished. I try to escape his grip but he holds tighter and groans.

"Stop trying to move. We're taking a nap," he says, already half asleep.

"But why am I under you?" I ask.

"Because, you need to be kept safe, same with the furball. And nowhere is safer than right under me," he explains, taking Grim off his back and putting him next to me under him.

He somehow magnetizes to the bed, trapping me and Grim under his muscle bound weight. He purrs slightly while me and Grim sweat from the outside heat and the sharing of body heat with Leona, I swear that boy runs like a furnace. Grim falls asleep fast, purring softly and leaving me alone with my thought in the dark. Every time I move in anyway Leona growls in his sleep like a warning. Though, the purring from him and Grim feels nice. My eyelids grow heavy, fluttering softly before I finally fall into the overheated clutch of sleep.

It feels cooler, a slight breeze going past my face, and I hear voices.

"Rafiki, I don't think they're waking up," a male voice says.

"Oh do not worry, my king. Rifiki has an idea," a raspy yet wise voice says.

"Well, it better work, we have important news to tell them and so little time!" A male voice with a Brooklyn accent says.

"Hello. Hello! Wake up!" A raspy voice yells and i feel something hard hit my head.

I shot up, rubbing me head and looking for who or what hit me. I then see a monkey with a red nose, blue skin, and holding a large stick. Confused, I looking around and see I'm in a cave with this werid stick wielding monkey. Looking around more I see a large, muscular yellow-orange lion with a reddish-brown mane looking at me, a slender, well-built lioness with cream colored fur stands at the lions side. Looking to my left I see a large warthog with reddish-brown fur and a black mane with a red hair meerkat stand on it's back. All of them are staring at me and I'm trying not to scream, hyperventilating and they all pick up on my panic.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, we're not gonna hurt," the lion says.

That doesn’t make me feel better and I think they all pick up at that. They tell me their names, the Lion is Simba, lioness is Nala, weird monkey is Rifiki, warthog is Pumbaa, and the meerkat is Timon. I introduce myself and Rifiki grabs my hands and leads me out of the cave. I look around, seeing nothing but miles and miles of grasslands and open night sky. I realize I'm on a large rock, with Rifiki walking me right to the edge.

"This place is beautiful," I mumble, looking up at the starry sky.

Rifiki stands next to me, a silence stretching between us that is filled but the noises of nocturnal birds and bugs.

"Now, onto business," Rifiki says casually.

I look at him, confused by what he means by that.

"You and your friend are hyrax surrounded by lions, wolves, heynas, and more. If you do not flew you shall never see the sun and sky again," he says.

I raise a confused eyebrow. Looking at the others for someone to translate what the hell he just said. Timon sighs, hops off Pumbaa and walks over to me.

"What he's trying to say, kid, is that if you and that furry friend of yours don't start running for the hills the "king" and his minions will trap you until you're old and grey," he explains.

That causes a feeling of dread to creep into my veins. The world closes in, shadows creeping in from every corner. I stand up, an orange glow of fire surrounding us as a dark Cackle and creepy, high pitched cackles echo. I start coughing, panicking, and feeling my heart race. I look for a way down but everything is surrounded by fire. Smoke raises to the sky and the laughter grows louder and louder until- my eyes fly open.

My heart pounds in my ears as my lungs ache with every panicked breath. I'm still stuck under Leona, Grim snoring next to me and Leona gripping me tighter. Soft talking and footsteps is heard outside the door. The heat hits me and I feel my clothes sticking to me.

I remember what the that dream told me. So, I start to plan. A knock makes Leona groan in annoyance, rolling over with me still trapped in his grip.

It was Ruggie, trying to get Leona to go to class and Leona is groaning and complaining about it. Eventually, Leona gets up and Ruggies moves me and Grim into the common room.

I have no idea what time it is, but based on people getting ready and asking their dorm mates if they did their homework I can make a guess.

Someone put a plate of what looks like a donuts on the main table, causing everyone to almost kill each other before the student who put the plate down yells at everyone.

"These aren't for you!" He yells.

Everyone stops, looking confused before the guy looks at me and Grim. He pushes the plate towards us and tells us he made these for us. I wait for people to start complaining, but no one does, which is werid because they were just trying to kill each other over these things not even five minutes ago.

We take bites, and these are the most delicious things we've ever had! I ask the guy what these are and he says that these are Sfenj. People eat and get ready for class, meaning me and Grim are going to have the whole place to ourseleves. The moment everyone is gone we start tearing the place apart, looking for a way to the mirror hall.

***

"I found something!" Grim yells.

By now we ended up in Ruggie's room and I was looking through his closet. I rush over to Grim, who is halfway under Ruggie's bed. I watch as Grim wiggles his way out from under the bed, holding his collar. We both smile, finally having some form of an advantage. I look at the clock, classes are almost over. The bandana is thrown off of Grim and I put his collar back on. We turn and freeze, standing in the open door is a very scary, silent Jack and a Smirking Ruggie.

"Snooping, really?" Ruggie teases, moving closer as Jack stands in the way.

I look out the window, to far of a drop for us to make it. Before I can say anythig Grim uses his fire to hold off Jack and Ruggie. We run out of the room, avoiding the other dorm members who all try to grab us. As we run, the bridges creak and groan under the weight. The heat is sapping our energy fast but I don't want to end up trapped here any longer.

"Running is useless!" Someone yells.

I feel someone grab the back of the vest, so I wiggle my way out of it and keep running. My lungs burn, sweat pours out of my skin but we're so close to getting out. Someone grabs the back of the scarf sash thing and while it takes a bit more effort I manage to also get out.

"Almost there, henceman! Almost there!" Grim yells, also running out of breath and energy.

By the tim we reach the mirror hall, we're both exhuasted and the group of Savannahclaw students who were chasing us is getting closer and closer. We both accept our fates by now, too tired to fight it when an unerving laugh echoes from one of the mirrors.

"Don't worry, Shrimpy and Baby Seal! We're here to save ya!" A sacrily familair voice yells.

Then I feel a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me into the mirror, while another pair of arm grabs Grim and pulls him in to and suddenly, the air feels very cool.

[mercurysilk]

Better Than This? | Teaser

idol!haechan x idol!f!reader wc: 1.5k

summary: It’s been about two years since your relationship with Haechan began, and during that time, you two rarely clashed. Despite demanding workloads, sneaking around behind the scenes, and your tendency to retreat into your own world, your bond remained strong. At least, it was strong until your first argument escalated into your biggest fight, leading to your breakup. Now, as you reflect on your relationship and your actions, you find yourself trying to repair the rift with a man who seems to have completely shut you out.

contents: SWEARING, horrible attempts at humor, slightest most slight smut ever, deepthroating ig, mention of past sex escapades, angst, jealousy, college student writing about idol life :/, aespa is now 5 members... can you guess who the 5th member is?, miscommunication, emotional unavailability, reader is a bit of a bitch sorry she gets better, crying, a little bit of drama, fluff. uhhh that should be it lmk if I missed anything

(A/N: This is my first fic omg I'm finally off the bench... kinda scaryyy. This fic was literally inspired by a conversation between me and my bestfriend + kpop demon hunters LMFAO this could be shit but it could also not be shit idk. I'm open to tips and tricks! my dms are OPEN)

“Are you seriously about to leave?” you ask incredulously following closely behind your boyfriend, “We’re not done talking.”

Haechan ignores you still heading for the front door of your penthouse.

“HAECHAN!” you yell running around him to block the front door, “Why are you ignoring me now? As if you didn’t just basically insinuate that I’d cheat on you?”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything.” He spoke calmly, “I tried to explain what my issue was to you several times y/n, but you refused to listen so I’m leaving now, can you please move?”

“No.”

“Y/n please, we should just try this again tomorrow. Its late and we’re both just getting on each other’s nerves right now.”

“Oh, I’m getting on your nerves?” You laughed bitterly, “I’m not the one turning something as small as a few offhand comments into a huge deal. I was happy to see you today, but instead of enjoying our time together after almost one month you’d rather complain to me about something that happened almost two weeks ago!”

He simply stared at you, his face carrying an unreadable expression.

“No trying this again tomorrow. Can we just clear this up today? Please? I don’t want to fight with you Donghyuck.” You took a deep breath and reached for his hands, but he pulled them away.

“How can we clear it up when you refuse to listen to me?” He asks a bit dejectedly, “You keep brushing the way that I feel off and shutting me down when you feel as though what I’m saying isn’t that serious. I never really noticed before or maybe I just didn’t want to notice, but I think you may have been this way the entire time.”

Perplexed, you exclaim, “What?”

“Have you only been with me this long because I didn’t dwell on the way that you act outside of closed doors despite us being in a relationship?”

“Wha-“

“Why is it that you always push aside my issues with how ‘single’ you act around people who are obviously flirting with you?” he sighed, “and don’t say it’s because I have nothing to worry about, you always say that and I already know that, why can’t you just pay them no mind? Why do you always have to play into it? Then when it comes down to me having an issue with it you get so defensive but why can’t you just say, ‘okay my boyfriend doesn’t like that I do this thing I obviously don’t have to do so I’ll stop’? Why?”

“That was an interview channie that wasn’t real. Why are you acting as if you don’t know how that goes? That man was not seriously flir-“

“You’re doing it again.” He says while throwing his hands into the air, now walking back towards your kitchen.

“Doing what?” you ask while following him, “I’m not brushing you off I’m responding directly to you.”

“It’s not just that interview y/n you’ve been doing this even outside of interviews and I know our relationship is not public, nor do we want it to be, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about my girlfriend flirting with any and everybody.” He stops and leans against the kitchen island looking at you blank faced, “Then when I ask my girlfriend to reel it back a bit because I don’t like it, she tells me to get over it.”

You walk over to the counter in front of Haechan and lean against it mirroring him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It never goes any further than that though and you know it’s only to appease-“

“There you go again.” He cuts you off again for a second time, “Why can you not appease me? Your boyfriend?” He scoffs and stops leaning against the island. “Wow y/n you really don’t care at all about what I think or how I feel huh?”

“Of course I do-“

“Then why is it that every time this topic comes up you never hear me out?”

“I am! I’m just telling you wh-“

“Why can’t you just stop? Why is it always a reason why you HAVE to?”

“What? Do you not trust me or something? Do you not feel as though this is a bit silly-“

“You think anything pertaining to my feelings is silly.” He cuts you off for a third time shaking his head and beginning to walk out of the kitchen, “I do trust you and it’s never been about that. It’s always been about respect y/n, I respect you enough to not do things you don’t like if it makes you uncomfortable no questions asked but when it comes to me? You do this.” His voice falters slightly towards the end of his statement causing alarm bells to begin ringing in your head.

“Why is this suddenly a problem? I don’t understand. I’ve been this way since before our relationship and even after we got together-“

Haechan turns around and looks at you, eyes wide as if you’d grown two heads. “Were you going to say that even after we got together, I had no problem with it? Because that would be a lie. I know you flirt here and there and its just games to you, but I’ve never liked it, and you’ve always shut me down about it. Always.” He looks at you for a second and then looks to the floor shaking his head, “I love you so much y/n but I really don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You stilled and stared holes into the man standing before you.

A beat passes before Haechan turns back around and heads for the front door for a second time only to be stopped again by you.

“I love you too.” You say honestly, your heart beating out of your chest. “I really do channie and I do respect you. I..” You sense the sensitivity of the situation and look up to meet Haechans eyes which appear to be looking right through you, “I’ll stop. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know that it bothered you this bad, every time you brought it up you seemed to be joking. I never meant to make you feel as though what you felt didn’t matter.” You reach out for his hands, vision a bit blurred and this time he lets you hold them.

“Y/n-“

“I’m so sorry channie. I’m so sorry, okay?” You cut him off, "please just don’t leave tonight like this, not like this. Let’s talk tomorrow like you said, okay?” You pleaded shaking his hands at the end of each sentence.

He stared at you for a bit then pulled you into a hug. One hand sliding around your waist and the other caressing your head tenderly against him and you held onto him as tight as you could while your unshed tears began to fall—you could already feel the difference in his embrace.

“Don’t cry y/n” he says holding you tighter.

“Please don’t leave.” You mumbled into his hoodie pulling away to look him in the eyes, heart sinking after seeing that he has also begun to shed tears of his own.

“Y/n I truly do think its best that we end this here. I don’t think I can-“

"I said I would stop," you interject, "and I will, absolutely. I never meant to make you feel that way—I swear, I would never want to make you feel anything but happy."

Haechan gives you a small smile and says, “I don’t doubt that, and you did make me happy, but I think we need some time apart. Maybe there’s someone out there who won’t make such a big deal about your playful flirting, you know? Maybe we’re both at fault here.” He picks up his shoes from beside you and bends down to put them on.

You watch as he puts his shoes on your stomach starting to turn, “So we’re breaking up?”

“I don’t know, I just think we need some ti-“

“We are breaking up.” You state matter-of-factly

He straightens up and glances at you, a little startled by your sudden shift in tone, “well then yes, we’re breaking up, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Then just get out of my house.” You say sternly, “I apologized, I admitted I was wrong, and I promised that I would stop and fix the problem you had with me, and yet you still want to leave.” You turn to stand to the side of the door so that he could exit, “So leave.”

Haechan stares at you, his mouth opening and closing as he keeps changing his mind on what to say, before finally settling on, “We were friends before, and we can still be friends after this, y/n. We don’t have to cut all ties just because our romantic relationship is ending.”

"I want to cut all ties between us," you say flatly, avoiding his gaze. "It's fine, I get it now. Whatever. I don't even care anymore. Just leave."