#espresso x reader oneshot

[lohotine]

HI THERE.

YOU LIKE ESPRESSO COOKIE....?

THAT'S NICE.

.

..

...

I WANNA FUCK HIM-

WHO SAID THAT.

*RUNS AWAY BUT TRIPS AND FACEPLANTS ON THE FLOOR*

AN: Now you can (I made this while running off of 2 hours of sleep. It might be a little weird, idk)

Espresso x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Sexual scenes, oral, hair pulling, degrading/praising, breeding kink, fingering, marking

This shit is not proofread lmao

You can feel him prodding at the back of your throat, a hand tightly grasping the fronts of your hair and pulling you further onto him.

"You look so pretty down there.. I hope this doesn't hurt too much," Espresso cooed. If not for the uncaring look in his eyes, you'd think his concern was genuine.

That couldn't be further from the truth though. Espresso just loved seeing the tears roll down your pretty little face as you fought your gag reflexes to take all of him into your mouth.

He'd groan as you swirled your tongue around his strained cock, pulling on your hair more and more just so he could fuck himself in your mouth.

Normally he wouldn't be this mean, but you decided that it would be a good idea to get all flirty with a random guy to get Espresso jealous.

It was in fact not a very good idea... unless this is what you wanted the entire time.

You continued to suck, practically begging for Espresso to shoot his load down your throat already.

The hand in your hair twitched. "Fuck, I should get you to do this more often-" he said between sharp breaths. Espresso would eventually succumb to your skilled tongue and send his cum to pool in your mouth. You made sure to swallow every last drop, of course.

Espresso moved the hand in your hair towards your chest, pushing your back against the sheets. "I haven't even touched you and you're already soaked... such a whore.." he tuts before inserting two fingers into your folds. They slide in effortlessly and he begins to push them in and out.

It feels absolutely blissful; the way Espresso knows exactly where your g-spots are and hits all of them so easily.

It's not enough though. You want him in you, not just his fingers.

"Espresso-" you say meekly, letting whines and cusses spill from your lips.

"Yes?" He continued thrusting them in and out of your pussy, curling his fingers just right to hit all of the right spots.

"Need... you-"

Espresso grinned. "You'll have to do better than that, I'm afraid."

You closed your eyes and managed to choke out a small beg. "Please.. I need to feel you inside of me already."

"Well since you asked so nicely..."

He removed his fingers from your cunt, signaling a whine from you at the loss. Then he replaced them with his dick.

He pushed all the way in and quickly began pounding in and out. You could feel it in your stomach, and he went at a brutal pace.

You had already become a fucked out mess, moaning and screaming with pleasure. Your mind became clouded with thoughts of only him.

You could feel him so deep inside of you, ans your pussy would squeeze around his length.

He began to bite your neck and shoulders, leaving markings all over your body.

"If your going to flirt with random people now, then maybe I should just put a baby inside of you already," He'd say while thrusting into you.

It all became too much and you'd cum all along his length.

He kept pounding, and lewd noises would fill the room. Before long he'd release his seed deep into your pussy.

Espresso would continue to thrust in and out. "We're gonna keep going until I'm sure you're pregnant."

《☆》 Fin

[xjcjuis]

LAZY DAYS

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: just me craving soft billie fics "with biting as a love language"

warnings: no pronouns used but female implied ; 'sweet girl'

wordcount: 0.8k

a/n: there isn't enough billie fluff (i need a hug from billie)

"don't go yet, please," you whine, eyes tightly clamped shut as you reach over to grab onto billie. unfortunately, your arm falls short and drops back down onto the covers empty.

forcing your eyelids open and momentarily getting blinded by the light of reality, you discover that she was, in fact, not lying beside you but rather sitting at the foot of your bed. she seems to be on a call, with her phone in hand and over her ear. billie's voice was soft, apparently not sensing that you were up and still careful not to wake you.

"babe?" you call out, sort of whispering. your girlfriend turns to you, smiling slightly and then gesturing to the device in her hand. you nod in understanding, waiting for her to hang up.

however, the way-too-familiar bedroom was running out of interesting stuff to look at, so naturally your gaze returns to billie. it's only been a few minutes, but to you it feels like hours, and her phone call still hasn't finished.

with a huff, you gently shove off the covers slipping down your shoulders as you scoot over to your girlfriend. your arms move on their own, hooking underneath her arms and around her waist as you rest your cheek on her back, smiling.

billie's hand instantly rests upon your own around her. you breathe in, inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth flood into you. the soft material of her t-shirt, the strands of her hair lightly tickling your cheek, the comfort her body brings from the hug.

you remain in that position for a moment before you turn your head to rest your chin upon her shoulder instead, staring at the side of her face as she continues to speak softly.

beautiful, was all you could think as your eyes traced her jaw, her skin, her nose, her lashes. perfect, was all your mind screams as you watch her lips move in conversation, pink and soft and so damn kissable if it weren't for the fact that she had an important call.

you puff out air once more, moving back to stare at her shoulder before biting it gently, with her still in your embrace. she jerks a little but relaxes immediately, your actions already familiar.

the corner of your mouth quirks up, now chomping on her shoulder with your lips over your teeth. proud of your little handiwork (aka the small bite marks on her shirt), you end it with a kiss to the cloth of her shirt before settling with nuzzling your face into her neck.

finally her call ends.

"good morning, my love," billie grins, turning around and basically tackling you back onto the bed. she holds you in her arms below her, her expression as soft as the morning sun peeking through the windows. you let out a small shriek of surprise at her actions, placing a hand delicately on her cheek and reaching up to kiss her right on the corner of her lip.

the smile turns into a pout. "you missed, sweet girl."

"hmm, what?" you tease, admiring the way she seemed to glow.

billie rolls her eyes playfully, leaning in to peck your lips. "tease." she taps your nose lovingly, shifting so that the sun shone straight through and onto your face. your eyes shut in instinct, a soft giggle escaping from you when she brushes her lips over your eyelids, just enough to be considered featherlight kisses.

she sits up abruptly, pulling you up with her so that you sat between her legs and quite stuck in her hold. not that you were complaining.

she peppers kisses along your head as you, once again, take her forearm into your mouth and bite. "i just got off call. i have a day-off today."

you stop your attack before she even finishes her sentence, turning to look up at her with starry eyes. "really?"

"mhm." she hums in confirmation and kisses your nose.

you hastily extract yourself from her and kneel on the mattress before her. "can we go out for breakfast?" your eyes are wide with hope, already placing an order in your mind for pancakes and syrup and hot chocolate and perhaps dessert. billie laughs softly at your excitement.

"of course, my love. on me."

with a squeal, you basically fly off the bed to search for something to wear. billie's laugh intensifies, watching you rummage through the closet before speaking up. "hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

you pause mid-swipe, waddling back over to her still sitting on her bed, and kissing her quickly on the lips. as you move away to resume your search, she stops you by the wrist. "uh-uh. not enough."

this time billie kisses you fully, and... you end up being a little late for breakfast.

[elikajinnie]

Heyyy could you do a oneshot of sh or hs inspired on the song what you need by the weeknd

I Am Everything You Crave - L.H

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

Warnings: Non-Idol!au, Suggestive Content, Situationship?, Pursuing, Possessive Behaviour, Begging, Alcohol Consumption, Jealousy if you squint, Mature Content, he kinda down bad.

Synopsis: Working at the campus café was fine—until Lee Heeseung entered the picture. A colleague with a reputation, Heeseung had made it his mission to add you to his collection of women. Much to his surprise, you rejected him. That is, until one party changed everything. You thought you could forget what happened and move on, but Heeseung? He has no intention of letting you go so easily.

a/n: This is very suggestive okay?? since the song is freaky :3

now playing: what you need by the weeknd | fuck yeah by ballinciaga | rude boy by rihanna | shameless by camila cabello

--

Life had its ups and downs. Right and wrong. Yin and yang. It had always been like that, and it would always be like that. Life isn’t easy, and everyone experiences it differently. People make decisions—some good, some bad—and they live with the outcomes.

Your latest decision? Getting a job at the small campus café tucked between the library and the science building. It seemed easy enough. Take orders, make drinks, serve a few pastries, smile. You needed the money, and the huge gaps in your class schedule meant you either spent hours scrolling on your phone in the student lounge or aimlessly wandering around campus. You figured it was time to be productive.

Simple. Easy. A perfect plan.

Yeah, right. Super easy until the news that someone new was starting, and the worst part? You had to train them.

You found out the hard way, too—your manager casually dropped it into conversation while wiping down the espresso machine.

“Oh, by the way,” they said nonchalantly, “the new hire’s coming in tomorrow. You’ll show them the ropes, yeah? You’re good at this stuff.”

You blinked. Good at this stuff? You’d been working here for all of two weeks. Sure, you hadn’t broken the coffee machine yet, but that hardly made you a veteran barista. You wanted to argue, to say there was no way you could teach someone else when you were barely keeping yourself afloat, but the words never made it past your lips.

So, here you were—standing behind the counter the next morning, mentally preparing yourself for a complete disaster.

The door jingled, signaling someone’s arrival, and you looked up with a sigh.

And you physically recoiled, because why was Lee Heeseung standing right in front of you?

Your brain short-circuited for a moment as he stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, looking around the cafe like he owned the place. Out of all the people on campus, it just had to be him. You’d rarely spoken to Lee Heeseung, he wasn’t worth your attention—one of those guys always surrounded by people, mostly girls, and partying like it was his full-time job.

And the worst part? He was good at it. Heeseung had that effortless charm, those annoyingly good looks, and he knew how to use both to his advantage. He could flash one of those lopsided grins and suddenly everyone in the room was falling over themselves to talk to him. Successful without even trying.

You narrowed your eyes as he stepped closer, stopping just short of the counter. For a second, it looked like he was sizing you up, like you were the one out of place.

“Uh… are you the trainer?” he asked, his voice smooth, as if he wasn’t about to ruin your morning.

You stared at him blankly, the words barely registering. This couldn’t be happening. Heeseung—the Lee Heeseung—was the new hire. The guy you were supposed to train.

And just like that, your “simple and easy” job turned into your personal nightmare.

You slowly nodded at first, then answered, “Yeah,” your voice as flat as your enthusiasm. You gestured for him to come behind the counter.

He made his way around to the small door flap on the side, moving with that casual confidence that you already found irritating. You led him to the back, pointing out the row of lockers shoved into the corner.

“You can set your stuff in there,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “Aprons are on the hook.”

He nodded, tossing his bag into one of the lockers with no hesitation. Then he grabbed an apron, slinging it over his head and tying it around his waist in a way that seemed far too graceful for someone doing something so basic. Of course, even putting on an apron looks good on him, you thought bitterly.

Wordlessly, you grabbed a name tag from the counter nearby and handed it to him. It was generic, just the word Assistant in bold letters, no real customization. He took it with a small smirk, pinning it to his chest like it was some kind of award.

“Assistant, huh?” he said, glancing down at it. Then, he looked back up at you with a grin that had trouble written all over it. “Does this mean I’m your sidekick now?”

You stared at him, unamused. “It means you’re here to learn, not mess around.”

“Got it. I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever had,” he replied, throwing you a mock salute.

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heel, heading back to the counter. “We’ll see about that. Come on, I’ll show you how to use the register.”

He followed you, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the smug energy radiating off him. This was going to be a long day.

You led Heeseung back to the counter, pointing to the register like it was some holy artifact he’d need to respect.

“This is the register,” you said, tapping the touchscreen. “It’s straightforward, but don’t let that fool you. People will make it hard for no reason.”

He nodded, leaning in a little too close to the screen for your liking. His shoulder brushed yours, and you instinctively stepped to the side, putting some much-needed space between you.

“Here’s how it works,” you continued, ignoring the way he casually leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world. You ran through the basics, showing him how to input orders, handle different payment methods, and deal with the occasional glitch.

“And this,” you added, pointing to the small clipboard tucked in a corner, “is where we keep track of special requests. You’ll hate this thing within a week.”

“Good to know,” he said with a small laugh, like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously.

Next, you moved to the shelves and machines behind the counter, pointing out where everything was.

“Coffee beans are in these bins,” you said, lifting a lid to show him. “Pastries are in the display case—use gloves if you’re touching them. Cups, lids, straws, napkins… all in this section here. And the espresso machine—” You gestured toward it like it was a ticking time bomb. “—don’t touch this yet. Not unless you want to break it and have the entire staff hate you.”

Heeseung raised his hands in mock surrender. “Got it. Hands off the espresso machine. Anything else I’m banned from touching?”

“Pretty much everything until I say so,” you shot back, turning to face him. “For the next three days, you’ll shadow me. Watch what I do, ask questions if you’re confused, but don’t try to take over. Once you get the hang of things, you can start doing some tasks on your own.”

He tilted his head, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smile. “So, I’m basically your personal assistant for three days?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re here to learn the job, not to entertain yourself.”

“Right, right,” he said, holding back a chuckle. “Serious business.”

“Exactly.” You folded your arms, watching as he leaned against the counter again, a smug glint in his eye.

Something about him made your patience wear thin, and you already knew these three days were going to test every ounce of your self-control. But you weren’t going to let Lee Heeseung get to you. Not a chance.

The door opened, and the bell above it gave a cheerful ding. Immediately, your customer service smile snapped into place, and you turned to greet the new arrival.

“Hi! Welcome in,” you said brightly. “What can I help you with today?”

The student—a guy in a hoodie and glasses—gave a polite nod before stepping closer to glance at the menu board hanging above the counter. After a moment, he pointed. “I’ll take a medium latte and, uh… one of those chocolate croissants.”

“Got it,” you replied, turning to the register. But not before noticing that Heeseung was watching you intently, his expression curious, almost amused. Ignoring him, you quickly entered the order, your fingers flying over the screen as you spoke. “So here’s how it works,” you said to him, motioning toward the display. “You tap the drink size, then pick the pastry from the bakery menu. Easy.”

He nodded, his eyes following your movements as if committing everything to memory.

Once you’d printed the receipt, you handed it to the student with another practiced smile. “Your total is on there, and I’ll bring everything out to your table in just a minute!” The student murmured a thank you before heading to a nearby seat.

Turning to Heeseung, you gestured toward the pastry display. “All right, rookie. Go grab that chocolate croissant and give it to the customer. Just use the tongs and put it in one of the small paper bags over there.”

He gave you a mock salute, grinning. “Yes, boss.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning to the espresso machine. It hummed quietly as you prepped the steam wand and started on the latte. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Heeseung make his way to the display case, grab a pair of tongs, and carefully place the croissant into a bag like it was some precious artifact.

When he finally handed it to the student, you couldn’t help but listen in as he said, “Here you go. Chocolate croissant, fresh and perfect. Just like I made it myself.”

The student chuckled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond, and you had to fight the urge to laugh. Of course Heeseung couldn’t resist being a show-off.

“Good job,” you muttered under your breath as he came back to the counter.

“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the counter again, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “See? I’m a natural.”

You ignored him, focusing on finishing the latte and pouring the steamed milk into the cup. Sliding the drink onto a tray, you carried it over to the customer, who smiled and thanked you.

As you returned to the counter, Heeseung was watching you with an amused expression.

“What?” you asked, arching a brow.

“Nothing,” he said, clearly lying. “You just take this whole customer service thing really seriously.”

“It’s called doing my job,” you shot back. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’m already learning from the best.”

You sighed, already bracing yourself for how long the rest of the day was going to feel.

For the rest of the shift, you took Heeseung through the rest of the basics. You showed him how to restock the pastry display, explained the cleaning routine, and gave him a quick rundown of how to prepare simple drink orders. At first, you were all business—focused on making sure he didn’t screw anything up. But after a while, you started to notice something… entertaining.

Heeseung didn’t just follow your instructions—he did it almost eagerly. Whether it was wiping down counters or organizing cups, he jumped at every little task you gave him. It was, admittedly, kind of fun ordering him around.

“Go grab the cups from the storage room,” you said at one point, just to see how he’d react.

Without hesitation, he nodded and walked off to fetch them, returning a minute later with the stack of cups in hand. As he set them down on the counter, he turned to you, that expectant look back in his eyes.

You frowned slightly. “What?”

“Did I do good?” he asked, his tone light but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. Did he just… ask for praise?

“Uh… yeah,” you said, a little unsure. “You did good.”

The way his face lit up at that simple acknowledgment made you pause. Heeseung looked… happy. Actually happy. Not smug.

From then on, you couldn’t help but notice it. Every time he finished a task, he’d glance at you like he was waiting for approval. And every time you gave him even the smallest bit of praise, his smile would grow, and he’d seem even more motivated to keep going.

“Nice job restocking the pastries,” you said after he carefully arranged the croissants and muffins in the display case.

“Thanks,” he said, his grin widening as he shut the glass door.

“Good work wiping down the tables,” you added later, watching as he gave the last one an extra wipe just to make sure it was spotless.

“Thanks, boss,” he said, standing a little straighter.

It became a game in your head, almost without you realizing it. Every time he did something right—or even just passable—you threw him a little compliment.

“Great job with the lids.”

“You’re getting the hang of the register.”

“Nice work steaming that milk.”

Each time, he’d light up like you’d just told him he’d won a trophy, his energy growing as the shift went on. And as much as you hated to admit it, it was… kind of cute.

By the end of the shift, Heeseung was practically buzzing, his earlier smugness replaced by something more genuine. And you couldn’t deny it—it felt oddly satisfying to see him so eager to prove himself.

As he pulled off his apron at the end of the shift, he glanced at you one last time, his expression hopeful. “So… did I survive day one?”

You smirked, tossing your own apron into the laundry bin. “You survived. Barely.”

He laughed, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Can’t wait to see what you make me do tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

You quickly grabbed your bag from the locker and didn’t waste any time heading out the door.

You slipped your phone out of your pocket as you walked, scrolling mindlessly through notifications and you were halfway through reading a message when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Hey, wait up!”

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Sure enough, Heeseung jogged up beside you, falling into step like he’d been walking with you all along.

“What, no goodbye after all my hard work?” he teased, his tone dripping with mock offense.

You glanced at him briefly, then back at your phone. “Goodbye,” you said flatly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He didn’t take the hint. Instead, he kept talking, launching into some story about how he almost burned down his dorm’s microwave last week because he forgot to add water to his cup noodles. You hummed in acknowledgment, barely listening, more focused on the text thread in front of you than his words.

But even as you tried to tune him out, you couldn’t ignore how close he was walking next to you. His arm brushed yours more than once, and he seemed to lean in slightly every time he spoke, like he wanted to make sure you heard him—even though he was plenty loud already.

And then there was his tone. It wasn’t just casual conversation; there was something… different about it. The way he dragged out certain words, the way his smile lingered as he glanced at you, the way he leaned a little closer when he joked—it all felt too deliberate to be innocent.

You finally tore your eyes away from your phone, catching the tail end of whatever he was saying. “…but honestly, I think the ramen was just defective. You ever had something like that happen?”

“Hm,” you hummed again, your answer vague.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his grin widening. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

“Not really,” you admitted without hesitation, slipping your phone into your pocket as you approached the entrance to your building.

He laughed at that, completely unfazed. “Wow, I see how it is. I pour my heart out, and you just ignore me. You’re cold.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t ignore you if you had something important to say,” you shot back, finally giving him a proper glance.

“Everything I say is important,” he said, flashing you a playful smile that you could only describe as shamelessly flirty.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his smile lingered just a little too long. “Well, thanks for walking me to class, but I can take it from here.”

“Oh, so now I’m dismissed?” he teased, taking a half step back but still lingering just close enough to make his presence known.

“Yep. Bye, Heeseung,” you said, your voice pointed as you turned toward the door.

“See you tomorrow, boss,” he called after you, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t bother looking back, but you could practically feel his grin as you walked away.

--

After your morning classes, you made your way back to the cafe, already bracing yourself for another day of dealing with Heeseung. When you stepped through the door, the first thing you saw was him leaning casually over the counter, his apron already on, talking to a group of girls.

You sighed to yourself. Typical.

From the way they giggled and leaned in, it was obvious they were eating up every word he was saying. And Heeseung, of course, seemed to thrive under the attention, throwing out a smirk here, a playful laugh there, and just enough charm to keep them hanging on his every word.

It wasn’t until you caught bits and pieces of his smooth, too smooth tone—compliments that were barely disguised as flirty remarks—that you really rolled your eyes. You weren’t surprised. Flirting was practically his second language.

When he finally noticed you standing there, his entire demeanor shifted in an instant. He straightened up quickly, waving at you with an almost boyish smile. Gone was the smooth talker leaning on the counter; now he looked like someone who’d just been caught red-handed.

You gave him a small, unenthusiastic wave back, not bothering to stop as you headed straight for the back room.

Inside, you grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it around your waist, and leaving your bag in the locker.

But when you turned around, ready to head back out, you nearly jumped.

Heeseung was standing in the doorway, blocking your path, a smug smile already plastered on his face like he’d been waiting for you to notice him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your tone edging into annoyance.

“Just wanted to say hi properly,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “You rushed off so fast, I didn’t get the chance.”

“You were busy,” you pointed out, crossing your arms. “Looked like you were having fun.”

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “They were just asking about the menu. Nothing serious.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, unimpressed. “And I’m sure all that flirting was part of the menu explanation?”

He grinned, not even trying to deny it. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Move. I have work to do.”

But instead of moving, he stayed firmly in place, blocking the door like he had no intention of letting you pass.

“Wait,” he said, his grin softening into something more playful. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

You froze, blinking up at him. “Jealous?” you echoed, then let out a sharp laugh. “Not even in your dreams, Heeseung. Now move.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender but still smiling as he stepped aside. “No need to threaten me, boss. I’m just messing with you.”

You gave him a pointed look as you brushed past him, heading back to the counter. But as you did, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grin lingered, like he’d just gotten away with something.

The rest of the shift carried on as usual—or at least, you tried to make it usual. Heeseung, of course, wasn’t making it easy.

He followed your instructions like he had yesterday, doing everything you asked without hesitation. But you couldn’t help but notice… changes. Subtle at first, but as the hours went on, they became impossible to ignore.

For one, he’d started staring. A lot.

You could feel his eyes on you almost constantly—when you were at the register, when you were showing him how to steam milk again, when you were wiping down counters. It wasn’t just a casual glance, either. No, this was the kind of stare that felt heavy, like he was watching you. Like he was noticing things he probably shouldn’t be noticing.

And when you did catch him looking, he didn’t even try to hide it. Instead, he’d just flash you this lazy grin, like he wanted you to know he’d been caught.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked pointedly after the third—or was it fourth?—time you caught him staring.

He shrugged, unbothered. “Just observing. You know, trying to learn from the best.”

“Sure,” you muttered, turning back to the espresso machine.

But the staring wasn’t even the worst part. It was the way he spoke to you. Everything he said was low, smooth, and infuriatingly deliberate.

“Hey, boss,” he said at one point, leaning just a little too close to you as you refilled the sugar packets at the counter. “You always look this focused, or is it just when I’m around?”

You didn’t even look up. “It’s called doing my job, Heeseung.”

He chuckled, his voice warm and annoyingly charming. “Just trying to make it more fun.”

When you showed him how to set up the sandwich press later, he leaned in closer than he needed to, his shoulder brushing yours as he peered at the controls.

“So, when do I get a promotion?” he asked, his voice low enough that it sent a faint shiver down your spine.

“A promotion?” you repeated, rolling your eyes as you stepped back to put some distance between you. “You haven’t even lasted a full week yet.”

He smirked, straightening up. “Yeah, but I’m doing a great job, aren’t I? You tell me all the time.”

“You’re doing the bare minimum,” you said flatly, trying to ignore the way his smirk made your stomach flip.

“Still counts,” he replied, winking.

By the time your break rolled around, you were honestly ready to strangle him—or maybe strangle yourself for letting him get to you. You’d only known him for two days, and yet he was already worming his way under your skin in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

You sighed as you finally sank into the chair in the back room, a half-eaten sandwich on a napkin in front of you and your laptop open to a half-finished school assignment. Break time was supposed to be your one reprieve from Heeseung’s constant attention, and you were determined to make the most of it.

The cafe wasn’t busy, and you’d left him at the front with strict instructions to just hold down the fort, take simple orders, and not burn anything. He had nodded enthusiastically, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving him alone might have been a mistake. Still, you couldn’t babysit him forever.

With a deep breath, you focused on your laptop, determined to finish at least a paragraph of your essay before your break ended.

But, of course, Lee Heeseung had other plans.

Not even five minutes into your break, the door creaked open, and there he was, leaning casually against the doorframe with that infuriatingly smug grin on his face.

"Shouldn't you be up front?" you asked without looking up, your tone flat as you typed out another sentence.

“I am,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Just came to check on you. You know, make sure you’re not slacking off back here.”

You gave him a deadpan look, your hands hovering over the keyboard. “I’m the one slacking? You’re the one who left the counter unattended.”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving you off as he stepped further into the room. “There’s no one out there right now. Plus, I work better when I know my boss is doing okay.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your screen. “I’m fine. Now get back out there before someone walks in and thinks we don’t know what we’re doing.”

But instead of leaving, he sat down in the chair across from you, propping his chin on his hand as he watched you with a lazy smile.

“What are you working on?” he asked, nodding toward your laptop.

“Schoolwork,” you said shortly, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“Wow,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So hardworking. Do you ever take a break, or is that not a thing for you?”

“This is my break,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Which you’re currently ruining.”

He grinned, completely unfazed. “Come on, boss. You’ve gotta learn to relax a little. Life’s not all about essays and coffee orders.”

“It is when you’re trying to pass your classes and keep a job,” you retorted, taking a bite of your sandwich.

He let out a low hum, watching you with an intensity that made you feel like you were under a microscope. “You know,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting into something softer—almost teasing, “you look kinda cute like that.”

You froze mid-bite, your eyes snapping to his.

“What?” you said, your voice flat but your ears burning.

“Just saying,” he said with a shrug, his smile widening as if he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve got this little furrow in your brow when you’re focused. It’s cute.”

You stared at him for a moment, debating whether it was worth throwing your sandwich at his face.

“Heeseung,” you said finally, your voice low and warning.

“Yes, boss?”

“Get. Back. To. Work.”

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender as he stood up. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Don’t miss me too much.”

You groaned as he sauntered out of the room, leaving you alone again—but not before tossing one last wink over his shoulder.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the door and wondering how you’d managed to get stuck with the most annoying coworker on the planet.

You tried to push Heeseung’s antics out of your mind, refocusing on your laptop. But it wasn’t as easy as you’d hoped. Every time you typed another sentence, your mind wandered back to the way he had called you cute. The audacity of him, the nerve—he just said whatever came to mind, didn’t he? Like there were no consequences.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. Heeseung was just being Heeseung—cocky, shameless, and way too full of himself. You weren’t going to let him get under your skin.

Another five minutes passed. Your essay was slowly taking shape, the sound of typing helped you settle into a groove. Finally, some peace and quiet.

But, of course, that didn’t last.

The door creaked open again, and you didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“Heeseung,” you said sharply, “if you’re not coming back here to tell me the cafe is on fire, I swear—”

“Relax,” he said, stepping into the room with a to-go cup in his hand. “Just thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

You glanced up, and sure enough, there he was, holding out a cup of coffee like it was some grand peace offering.

“What is this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Coffee,” he said, completely unbothered. “I made it myself. Thought you’d want a break from whatever sad sandwich you’ve been eating.”

You looked at the cup suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything weird in it, did you?”

“Wow,” he said, clutching his chest like you’d just insulted his honor. “No faith in me at all. That hurts, boss. Really.”

You rolled your eyes but took the cup anyway, cautiously bringing it to your lips. The coffee was… actually pretty good.

“Not bad,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Heeseung’s face lit up like you’d just handed him a gold medal. “See? I’m a fast learner. You might be stuck with me, but at least I’m good at what I do.”

“Barely,” you muttered, but your lips twitched upward despite yourself.

He pulled out the chair across from you again, sitting down with that same cocky grin.

“Don’t you have work to do?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“The front’s all clear,” he replied, leaning back in the chair. “And besides, I’d rather hang out here with you.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re strange, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a wink.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you turned back to your laptop. But even as you tried to focus, you couldn’t ignore the way he stayed there, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“So, there’s this party on Saturday,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence that had been hanging over the room for minutes, his tone easy but clearly fishing for something.

You paused mid-motion, glancing over at him. “A party?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up straight now and looking at you. “It’s at my friend Jay’s place. Big house, lots of people, good music… You should come.”

You blinked, surprised. Heeseung inviting you to a party wasn’t something you’d expected, especially since you weren`t close.

For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“What?” he asked with a small grin, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t like parties or something?”

“I didn’t say that,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I just wasn’t expecting you to invite me.”

“Why not?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his grin widening. “You’re cool. And besides, I figured you could use a break. You know, have some actual fun for once.”

You scoffed, about to reject him outright with a “Sorry, I’m busy,” but the words caught in your throat.

The truth was, you weren’t busy. Your weekend was looking painfully empty, and you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gone out for something other than groceries or school. You’d been drowning in assignments and deadlines for so long that the thought of getting out, even for just one night, sounded oddly tempting.

And besides, you’d heard about Jay. The guy was rich—practically loaded—and you knew his parties were worth it. You weren’t exactly a party animal, but a night with good music, decent booze (and not the cheap stuff from corner stores), and a chance to let loose didn’t sound half bad.

You leaned over the table, pretending to think it over, and caught the way Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours. He almost seemed… eager, like he was waiting on the edge of his seat for your answer. His gaze lingered just a second too long, and you noticed the way he leaned in slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.

Was he… entranced?

The thought made you pause for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright,” you said finally, sitting back in your chair. “I’ll go.”

His face lit up almost immediately, and you could tell he was trying to hide how pleased he was.

“Really?” he asked, his grin growing.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “Why not? I could use a night out.”

“Great,” he said, his excitement obvious. “You won’t regret it. Trust me, Jay throws the best parties. I’ll text you the details.”

“You don’t even have my number,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but took the phone anyway, typing in your number before handing it back to him.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

He grinned as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I won’t. Promise.”

The next few days passed in a blur and as much as you hated to admit it, Heeseung was actually learning everything pretty quickly. Sure, he still made the occasional mistake—like giving someone oat milk instead of almond milk—but those moments were fewer and farther between.

You had to give him credit: when he focused, he was good at what he did. The problem was getting him to focus.

Heeseung always found ways to make things interesting. Whether it was asking too many unnecessary questions just to mess with you or deliberately trying to get a reaction out of you with his relentless teasing, he kept you on your toes. And yet, he still managed to meet all the training goals you set for him, almost like he wanted to impress you.

Finally, by the end of the week, his training was officially done. He knew how to use the register, make all the drinks, handle pastries, and even clean up without leaving a mess behind. So, when the time came to hand him his permanent nametag, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment.

You stood behind the counter as Heeseung wiped down a table nearby.

“Hey,” you called out, catching his attention.

He turned toward you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, boss?”

You held up the shiny new nametag with his name etched on it in neat, bold letters: Heeseung.

“Congratulations,” you said, holding it out to him. “You’re officially not the assistant anymore.”

His eyes lit up when he saw it, and for a moment, you thought he looked almost… touched?

He took the nametag from your hand and stared at it like it was some kind of trophy. Then, with no hesitation, he ripped off the old “Assistant” nametag and tossed it on the counter.

“Finally,” he said, grinning as he hooked the new nametag onto his apron. “I was getting sick of being ‘Assistant.’”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Don’t let it go to your head. You’re still the newbie.”

He shot you a playful look. “Yeah, but now I’ve got my actual name. Feels good.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you teased. “You’re still not getting a promotion anytime soon.”

“Aw, come on,” he said, leaning against the counter with that familiar lazy grin. “You know I’ve been doing great. Admit it—you’re impressed.”

“I’ll admit you’ve survived training,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s about it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re tough to please, boss. But don’t worry—I’ll win you over eventually.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Get back to work, Heeseung,” you said, brushing past him to restock the pastry case.

But as you moved, you caught him staring at his nametag again, his grin still firmly in place.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you stood in front of your mirror, adjusting your outfit for the third—no, fourth—time. Your hair and makeup were done perfectly, your clothes hugged you in all the right places, and yet, you found yourself staring down at Heeseung’s message with a sense of hesitation.

Heeseung: Party starts at 8. Jay’s place. Don’t be late, boss

He’d attached the address below, followed by another string of teasing texts you hadn’t bothered to reply to.

You bit your lip, the urge to second-guess yourself creeping in. What were you even doing? Parties weren’t exactly your thing—not anymore, at least. You’d spent so much time lately focused on school and work that the thought of walking into a house full of strangers felt overwhelming.

Maybe you should cancel. You could just text Heeseung, say something came up, and spend the evening curled up with your laptop and a blanket instead. He’d probably roll his eyes, call you boring, and then leave you alone.

But then again, when was the last time you let yourself actually have fun? You couldn’t even remember the last time you went out, much less to a party. And besides, Heeseung had been so weirdly persistent about you coming. You could already picture his smug little grin when he saw you show up.

You shook your head at yourself, sighing.

“Get it together,” you muttered, turning back to the mirror.

You straightened your outfit, smoothing out any wrinkles and with one last glance at Heeseung’s message, you took a deep breath and grabbed your bag.

It was just a party. You’d go, stay for a little while, maybe have a drink or two, and then leave. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you locked your door and headed out.

When you arrived at Jay’s house, you weren’t surprised to find it exactly as you’d expected: massive, loud, and packed with people. Music thumped through the walls, and the glow of colorful lights spilled out through the windows and onto the front lawn.

Though the moment you stepped inside Jay’s house, the sheer size of the place struck you again. You’d been to a few big houses before, but this? This was something else entirely. The ceilings were impossibly high, the decor looked like it had been ripped straight out of a magazine, and the crowd of people packed into the house made it feel like a full-blown club instead of a casual get-together.

You maneuvered through the throng of people, recognizing a few faces here and there—some classmates, some mutual friends, and plenty of people you didn’t know. A few offered you quick smiles or waves, but most were too busy dancing, drinking, or talking loudly to notice you weaving through the chaos.

You found a massive coat rack—overflowing with jackets and bags—and hung yours up carefully before stepping back into the crowd. The noise was almost overwhelming, but you quickly found your footing, asking a couple of people nearby where the kitchen was.

“Down the hall, to the left!” one guy shouted over the music, pointing in the direction.

You nodded your thanks and headed that way, weaving through more bodies until you finally reached the kitchen.

And just like you’d predicted, it was a dream come true for any broke college student.

The massive kitchen island was completely covered in bottles of alcohol—every drink you could dream of—all the expensive brands that only the rich could casually stock up on without a second thought. There were mixers, fruit garnishes, pre-made cocktails, and even a blender shoved to one side.

Your eyes scanned the island, and you couldn’t help but smirk. Jay definitely wasn’t messing around.

You made your way to the fridge, pulling it open to find even more options stacked neatly inside. After a moment of deliberation, you grabbed a cold bottle and popped the cap off with a satisfying snap.

You tossed the cap into the trash, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a long sip. The sweet taste was like heaven, and you couldn’t help but hum in satisfaction.

“Enjoying yourself already?”

The familiar voice came from behind you, and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Heeseung.

Of course.

You sighed, lowering the bottle and glancing over your shoulder to see him leaning against the doorway with that same lazy grin he always wore. He looked effortlessly good, as usual, in a casual black button-up and jeans that fit him a little too well. His dark hair was slightly tousled, like he hadn’t bothered trying too hard—but somehow, that only made him look better.

“Didn’t expect to see you here already,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling over to you.

“Didn’t expect you to find me so fast,” you shot back, taking another sip from your bottle.

“What can I say?” he teased, grabbing a random bottle from the island and inspecting it. “I’ve got good instincts.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother responding, instead focusing on your drink.

Heeseung unscrewed the cap of his bottle, taking a swig before leaning against the counter beside you. “So,” he started, glancing at you with a sly smile, “what do you think? Not bad, huh?”

You gestured vaguely around the kitchen. “It’s… a lot.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Jay doesn’t do anything halfway. Wait until you see the backyard. He rented a whole fire pit setup and some fancy outdoor lights. It’s insane.”

“Of course he did,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Heeseung tilted his head, watching you closely. “Not a party person, huh?”

“Not at the moment,” you admitted, taking another sip. “But… I figured I could use a break.”

Heeseung’s smile softened, just slightly. “Well, you came to the right place. Trust me, by the end of the night, you’re gonna be glad you showed up.”

“Confident, aren’t you?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, raising his bottle in a mock toast. “Always.”

You clinked your bottle lightly against his, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

Heeseung downed the rest of his drink, then nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, boss,” he said, flashing you his trademark grin. “I gotta introduce you to the crew.”

“Your crew?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, my friends,” he clarified, already motioning for you to follow him. “Don’t worry, they’re cool. You’ll like them.”

You trailed after him through the crowded house, sidestepping groups of people until you reached a section of the living room where a group of guys stood huddled, laughing over something you couldn’t hear over the music.

“Yo!” Heeseung called out, catching their attention.

The group turned to look, and almost instantly, they greeted Heeseung with wide grins and casual fist bumps. Then their attention shifted to you, curious but friendly.

“This is my boss,” Heeseung announced, slinging an arm over your shoulder with no warning. “You know, the one who’s been making me work my ass off all week?”

You stiffened under his arm, giving him a pointed look, but he didn’t seem to care.

The group laughed, and one of them—a guy with bleached hair and an easygoing vibe—stepped forward. “Ah, so you’re the one Heeseung’s been talking about nonstop,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Sunoo. Nice to meet you.”

You hesitated for a second, then shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

The rest of the group followed suit, introducing themselves as Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon.

As they started chatting, you found yourself relaxing a little. They were cool, just like Heeseung said. You even caught yourself laughing at a few of their jokes.

But after a while, you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. The noise and energy of the party were starting to catch up to you, and you figured a quick breather would help.

But by the time you came back, though, the group had completely disappeared.

You frowned, glancing around the living room. Nothing. No Heeseung, no Sunoo, no one you recognized. Shrugging, you decided not to overthink it. Maybe they’d moved to another part of the house.

Instead, you headed back to the kitchen, grabbing another drink from the fridge. This time, you opted for something stronger, figuring you might as well enjoy yourself while you were here.

With the bottle in hand, you made your way to the main area where most people were dancing. Leaning against the wall, you watched the crowd sway and move to the heavy beat of the music.

But then someone approached you.

“Hey,” a guy’s voice said, drawing your attention.

You turned to see a soft-looking guy with an easy smile standing next to you. His energy felt entirely different from the usual partygoers—calmer, more approachable.

“Hi,” you replied, tilting your head slightly.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, offering you his hand. “I’m Shotaro.”

You shook his hand, noting how friendly his smile was. “Nice to meet you, Shotaro. I’m—”

“—Heeseung’s boss, right?” he finished for you, grinning.

You blinked in surprise. “Uh, yeah. How did you know that?”

“Heeseung’s been talking about you,” he said casually, leaning against the wall beside you.

You felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite place. “I see.”

“So,” Shotaro continued, taking a sip from his drink. “How’s it been, working with Heeseung? He’s not causing too much trouble, is he?”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh, he’s definitely trouble. But he’s not… terrible.”

Shotaro chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “That sounds about right. Heeseung’s kind of a handful, but he’s a good guy.”

“Is that your way of warning me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Shotaro said quickly, his tone light and playful. “Just… preparing you for what you’ve probably already figured out.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself enjoying his company. But out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the room, watching.

Heeseung.

His expression was unreadable, but the way his eyes stayed locked on you made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that crept over you, focusing back on Shotaro’s words. He was still talking, casually, but your attention kept drifting. Your eyes flicked back to Heeseung, who hadn’t moved, still standing in the same spot with his gaze fixed on you.

There was something about the way he was looking at you—intense, but not quite… angry? Maybe it was something else entirely. You couldn’t tell. It wasn’t a look you were used to seeing from him, especially not with the easygoing vibe he’d always had around you.

You couldn’t look away. Not at first, at least.

Shotaro noticed your distraction, following your line of sight and smiling knowingly. “I think he’s waiting for you,” he said, his tone light but laced with something that you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from Heeseung. “What?” you asked, momentarily disoriented.

“I said,” Shotaro continued with a slight grin, “I think your friend is waiting for you.”

You could feel your cheeks warming slightly. "He’s not—"

But before you could finish, Shotaro waved a hand dismissively. “No need to explain. It’s pretty obvious.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a tangled mess now, and whatever you’d planned to say evaporated when you saw Heeseung take a few steps toward you.

Shotaro noticed the change too and gave you a sly smile. “I’ll let you handle that.”

You barely had time to react before Heeseung was standing in front of you, his posture still casual but something about his energy shifted the moment he stood near you.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little more self-aware. “What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Heeseung didn’t immediately answer, instead studying you for a moment as if he was trying to figure something out. His eyes flicked over to Shotaro, who had already started talking to someone else close by.

“I thought you were having fun,” Heeseung finally said, his tone softer than usual.

“I am,” you replied, a little defensively, but the way he looked at you made the words feel like they didn’t hold much weight.

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “You know, you don’t have to be so uptight. Relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?”

His closeness made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you took a small step back, instinctively trying to put a little more space between you. “I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just getting a drink and talking to people.”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened, but it was subtle, like a flicker of something deeper, something that was just below the surface. You tried to ignore the sudden heat building in your chest. “I’m sure you’re having a great time,” he replied, his voice low but just loud enough to make you question if there was something more to his words.

You shifted, glancing around the room again, feeling uneasy under his intense gaze.

“So,” you began, trying to change the subject, “how’s your night going?”

Heeseung shrugged, not answering immediately. Then he flashed that signature smirk of his, though it looked a little more forced this time. “Better now that you’re sticking around.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, half-amused and half-annoyed. "Yeah, sure."

He stepped a little closer, almost uncomfortably so. "You should stick with me tonight," he said, as if it were a casual suggestion, but there was something to his voice that made it feel like an order.

“Maybe later,” you replied, forcing yourself to stay casual even as you felt the pressure of his proximity.

But Heeseung didn’t move away. Instead, he held your gaze for a long moment. “I’ll be waiting.”

Before you could react, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there.

You stood there for a moment, trying to shake off the feeling, you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a minute, maybe something a little stronger to clear your head. The noise of the party faded as you opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for something that might do the trick.

You reached for a bottle of something dark and smooth—whiskey, you thought, perfect. The cap twisted off easily, and without hesitating, you brought the bottle to your lips, taking a deep swig. The burn was immediate, scorching your throat, but you welcomed it. The heat spread through your chest, distracting you from the confusion still swirling in your mind.

You winced slightly at the strong taste, but it didn’t bother you as much as it should have. In fact, you felt a little relieved.

With the bottle still in your hand, you moved to the counter, leaning against it as you wiped your hand across your forehead, pushing your hair back from your face.

Was Heeseung always like this? So… forward?

And why did it bother you so much?

--

You stood there in the bathroom, leaning over the sink as you splashed cold water on your face. The bitterness of the drinks still lingered in your mouth, and you couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. You rubbed your lips together, trying to rid yourself of the aftertaste, all the while trying to steady your breath. The last thing you needed was to get sick and ruin the night.

Just as you finished wiping your mouth with a tissue, you heard knocks on the door.

“Give me a minute,” you shouted, your voice a little tighter than you intended as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were trying to compose yourself, trying to act like everything was fine, even though you were sure it wasn’t.

You grabbed your lipstick from your bag, carefully applying it to your lips. Then, before you could finish, the door suddenly swung open, and you froze.

Standing in the doorway was Heeseung, his expression unreadable as he stepped inside, blocking the exit with his body. You blinked, unable to mask your shock.

“Heeseung—”

He didn’t let you finish. Without a word, he closed and locked the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the small, quiet room.

Your heart raced, and you instinctively took a step back, eyes widening as you tried to process the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you’d intended.

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning your face as if he was taking his time to study you. The playful smile that was usually on his lips was gone, replaced by something more serious, more intense. He took a slow step toward you, and you instinctively stepped back, your back hitting the sink with a small jolt.

“You’re avoiding me,” he finally said, his tone low and steady.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you protested, though even you could tell it didn’t sound convincing.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. “Then why are you not beside me?”

You swallowed, the heat of his gaze making you feel trapped in the small space. “I am—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice soft but insistent. “I know what you’re doing.”

Your chest tightened as the distance between you grew smaller. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his proximity—how your breath caught in your throat, how your pulse quickened.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to break the tension, but Heeseung cut you off. “I’ve been waiting for you to stop running from me, to give in and see,” he said, his voice smooth. “And I’m not going to let you get away tonight.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and the world around you seemed to narrow down to just Heeseung, his gaze never leaving yours.

Your mind was racing, thoughts scattered in every direction as Heeseung closed the distance between you. His bottle was placed carelessly on the counter behind you, the sound of glass clinking against porcelain barely reaching your ears over the pounding of your heartbeat. His eyes never wavered from yours, as he leaned down, his arms caging you in against the sink.

You couldn’t help but look down at his lips. They were so close—too close—and you felt the pull toward them. Was it the alcohol clouding your thoughts? Or was it simply him?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the bathroom suddenly felt unbearably hot.

Your mind screamed to pull away, to stop this before it went any further, but your body betrayed you. The space between you closed completely, and before you could say anything—or even fully register what was happening—Heeseung kissed you.

It was fast, surprising, and far more urgent than you expected. His lips were warm against yours, and for a split second, you froze. The kiss was deep, his hand coming to rest beside your face, his thumb brushing against your jaw. You could feel the force of his kiss, the way he was pulling you into him, and something inside you stirred.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of his kiss, the way it made your heart race.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away slightly, his lips hovering just above yours. His eyes were hungry—more intense than you had ever seen them before.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmured, his voice low, almost like a warning. His lips brushed against yours again, a fleeting touch that made your stomach twist. "I know what you’re thinking."

You swallowed, your mind a blur as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. But the only thing you could focus on was him.

Heeseung didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, his fingers brushed against your skin, tracing a path down your neck as he moved to kiss you again, more slowly this time, as if savoring the moment.

And despite everything inside you telling you to stop—to pull away and think—you couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

Your hands instinctively moved to his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back, the feel of his lips against yours made everything inside you tighten. The kiss deepened, and that was when you felt him shift, his hands slipping under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly off the ground. The action caught you off guard for a moment, but you didn’t have time to process it before he set you down on the counter, careful to avoid the sink.

His body moved in between your legs, and you instinctively parted them to make room for him, while his hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing the curve of your waist.

At that moment everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. But instead of pulling away, you found yourself leaning closer to him, your hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, desperate for more contact.

There was no going back now, no hesitation.

The only thing that mattered was the way his body pressed against yours, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You weren’t quite sure who was losing control more: him or you.

Your hands, naturally, found their way to his biceps, grasping tightly as if to anchor yourself.

Heeseung's kisses became more intense, his tongue dancing with yours, and you could feel his hands, warm and strong, as they slowly made their way under your shirt.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his hands on your skin. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, a delightful sensation.

As Heeseung's hands continued their journey, his moan escaped his lips, a low sound which sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn't help but grip his biceps tighter, your nails slightly digging into his skin.

Heeseung's moan turned into a growl as he felt your response. With a sudden movement, he ripped off his shirt, a few of the buttons flying in all directions.

The sight of Heeseung's bare chest took your breath away. His muscles, defined and strong, glistened with a slight sheen of sweat.

As Heeseung's shirt fell to the ground, he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours. His hands, now free, roamed over your back, tracing the curve of your spine, and then down to your waist, where he gently squeezed.

Heeseung's lips left yours for a moment, only to trail kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. You let out a soft whine, your body arching into his touch, inviting him to continue.

Heeseung's hands, slowly and deliberately pulled up your shirt, gently sliding the garment off your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a subtle smile, Heeseung slung your shirt over his shoulder, his hands, now free to explore, slipped up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You leaned back against the mirror, your legs parted slightly as Heeseung's hands continued their journey, their grip tightening as they reached the top of your thighs.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at Heeseung, his chest, still heaving from the intensity of the kiss, rose and fell with each breath. You could feel his fingers trace the curves, his thumbs gently massaging.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I could look at you forever."

"I could say the same about you," you replied, your voice soft. "Every inch of you is perfection."

Heeseung's lips twitched into a soft smile. "Don't say that unless you mean it," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.

You tilted your head slightly, your hands looped loosely around his neck. "I do mean it," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. "Every word."

For a moment, Heeseung didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. His grip on your waist tightened slightly.

"You have no idea what you’re doing to me," he said finally, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the words weren’t meant for anyone else but you.

Your lips parted, unsure of how to respond. But before you could say anything, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was softer this time, slower, as if he was savoring every second.

His hands slid up to cradle your face, his touch gentle, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. The way he kissed you made your head spin, every thought slipping away until all you could feel was him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, both of you breathing heavily. "I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you," he admitted.

You breathed out shakily, leaning forward to kiss him again, unable to resist. Heeseung groaned softly against your mouth, his hands tightening around your waist as if he never wanted to let go.

But the sudden, rapid knocking on the bathroom door shattered the moment like glass. "Come on, man! Some of us need to pee!" someone shouted, their voice muffled but impatient.

You both froze, and then, as if in sync, you both pulled back with a wet sound, the abrupt loss of contact leaving you cold. You quickly slid off the sink, your legs shaky as you adjusted your balance. Heeseung stepped back to give you space, his lips slightly swollen, his hair tousled from your hands.

You grabbed your shirt from where it had been discarded and slipped it back on with trembling fingers, avoiding his gaze as your heart pounded in your chest. Heeseung, meanwhile, reached for his own shirt, pulling it on hastily as the knocking grew louder.

"You guys gonna stay in there all night?" a different voice called, followed by a round of laughter from the hallway.

Your face burned as you yanked open the door, not sparing a glance at the group of people gathered outside, their expressions ranging from amused to curious. Shouldering past them, you strode down the hallway and out into the main area of the party, your breath still uneven, your mind racing.

You didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around to see if Heeseung was following. The music felt too loud, the crowd too suffocating, and you needed air. Pushing past the groups of people dancing and talking, you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting it open with shaking hands.

Taking a long sip, you leaned against the counter, trying to calm the chaotic mess of emotions swirling inside you. What had just happened? One minute, you were at a party, trying to have a good time, and the next…

"Hey," a familiar voice said softly, and you stiffened.

Turning slowly, you saw Heeseung standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his expression unreadable. His shirt was wrinkled, his lips still slightly parted as if he’d run after you but didn’t know what to say now that he’d found you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tentative, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge how you were feeling.

You let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair. "I… I don’t know," you admitted, your voice quieter than you expected. "I just needed a second to breathe."

Heeseung nodded, stepping further into the room but keeping a careful distance, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you. "I’m sorry if that was… too much," he said, his voice soft, almost apologetic. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Don’t apologize," you interrupted, surprising both of you with the firmness in your tone. "It wasn’t just you, Heeseung."

Your words seemed to relax him slightly, his shoulders easing as he took another cautious step closer. "Still," he said, his lips quirking into a faint smile, "next time, maybe we pick a place with fewer interruptions."

His playful tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Next time?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

Heeseung grinned, his confidence creeping back as he leaned closer. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that."

You froze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as Heeseung stood right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His grin softened into something more intense as he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly under your jaw, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

“Why so quiet now?” he teased softly, his voice dipping lower, his lips just a whisper away from yours. “You’re usually so good with comebacks.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Heeseung’s gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could think or speak, he leaned in, so close your noses brushed. “You drive me so crazy,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the thump of the music in the other room.

And before you could react, his lips were on yours again, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

It was different this time—not hurried or rushed like before, but deliberate, as if he wanted to make you feel every second of it. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as he kissed you, and your body responded almost instinctively.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, your head spinning. Heeseung let out a low hum of satisfaction, the sound vibrating against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his other hand settling on your waist.

You barely registered the cool surface of the kitchen counter pressing against your lower back as he guided you gently but firmly against it, his body close enough to make you feel like you were burning up from the inside out.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to catch his breath, his lips hovered near yours, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. “See?” he whispered, his voice rough and uneven. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so instead, you reached up and pulled him back down into another kiss, your answer clear in the way your lips moved against his.

Heeseung chuckled softly against your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening like he didn’t want to let you go.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice reminded you where you were, what you were doing, and how very public this all was. Reluctantly, you broke the kiss, your breathing ragged as you pushed lightly against his chest.

“Heeseung,” you started, your voice shaky, “we’re in the middle of the kitchen. Anyone could walk in.”

Heeseung smirked, clearly unbothered, as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Let them,” he said, his voice low and full of mischief. “Maybe they’ll finally understand that you’re mine.”

Before you could even form a response, Heeseung’s lips crashed into yours again, more desperate this time, as though he couldn’t stand the idea of even a few seconds without kissing you. His hands cupped your face, holding you firmly in place.

Your protests—if there had been any—dissolved almost instantly, and all you could do was cling to him, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as his body pressed closer to yours.

You felt his hands slide down from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that you were there, that this wasn’t just some dream.

“Heeseung—” you tried to say, breaking the kiss briefly to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you get far.

“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, as if he was barely holding himself together. “Just… don’t. Please.”

Before you could think, his lips were on yours again, and this time it was slower but no less intense. His hands tightened on your waist, grounding you, and you found yourself sinking further into him.

You didn’t even notice the kitchen had gone quiet until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through the haze.

Your eyes flew open, and Heeseung reluctantly pulled back, his breathing heavy as he turned toward the source of the interruption. Standing in the doorway was Jay, a drink in his hand and an amused smirk plastered across his face.

“Should I come back later?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

Your face burned with embarrassment as you quickly pushed Heeseung away, smoothing your clothes and trying to look like you hadn’t just been thoroughly kissed. Heeseung, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.

“Not at all,” Heeseung replied smoothly, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened. But the slight curve of his lips told you he was very aware of what just happened—and that he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest.

Jay chuckled, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen. “Well, don’t let me stop you two. Just don’t break anything, yeah? I’d rather not explain that to my parents.”

You shot Jay a glare, but he just grinned and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving you alone with Heeseung again.

As soon as Jay was gone, you turned to Heeseung, narrowing your eyes at him. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Heeseung just shrugged, his smirk widening. “Not when it comes to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Let’s get out of here. I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you let him take your hand, curiosity and excitement bubbling in your chest as he led you out of the kitchen.

Heeseung led you up the stairs, his hand firmly wrapped around yours as he maneuvered through the crowded hallway. The music downstairs grew fainter with every step, fading away until it was just the two of you at the end of a dimly lit corridor.

He stopped in front of a door, glancing back at you with a small smile before turning the handle and pulling you inside. The room was quiet, smelling faintly of cologne and freshly washed sheets, and you barely had a moment to take it all in before Heeseung closed the door and locked it with a soft click.

When he turned back to you, his eyes were darker, filled with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He didn’t say anything as he took a step closer, and then another, until there was barely any space left between you.

“Heeseung—” you started, your voice a mix of hesitation and anticipation, but he silenced you with a kiss.

His lips were on yours in an instant, firm and unrelenting, as if he’d been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t wait any longer. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fervently. It was like he had unlocked something inside you, something that craved the way he made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

Heeseung broke the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

His words made your heart race, and before you could even process them, his lips trailing down to your jaw and to the curve of your neck, his movements slow, like he was savoring every inch of your skin. The soft warmth of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, but it wasn’t until you felt him suck lightly at a tender spot just beneath your ear that you gasped, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair.

Heeseung hummed in satisfaction at your reaction, the sound vibrating against your neck. His hands gripped your waist firmly, keeping you steady as his lips latched onto your skin, sucking just enough to leave a mark. You couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

Your grip on his hair tightened, pulling slightly, and he groaned against your neck, the sound low and raspy. “Do that again,” he muttered, his voice husky.

You tugged again, this time more intentionally, and he responded by nipping gently at your skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. His lips trailed lower, finding another spot on your neck to mark.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out, your voice trembling as he continued his assault on your neck, leaving a trail of small, dark marks in his wake. You could feel the way his breathing grew heavier.

“Say my name again,” he murmured against your skin, his voice full of need.

You tugged on his hair once more, tilting your head back to give him better access, and whispered his name again, this time softer, more breathless.

He pulled back for a moment, his lips glistening, his eyes heavy-lidded as they met yours. His gaze dropped to the marks on your neck, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perfect,” he muttered, brushing his thumb over one of the fresh hickeys. “Now everyone’s going to know you’re mine.”

--

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, rousing you from your sleep. You blinked groggily, taking in the unfamiliar room for a moment before the events of the previous night came rushing back to you.

Your body felt heavy, weighed down by something—or rather, someone. Turning your head slightly, you froze as you saw Heeseung sleeping behind you, his face peaceful, lips slightly parted, and his arm draped securely around your waist like he was afraid to let go even in his sleep.

Your eyes widened, and your heart started racing. Oh no. This can’t be happening.

You carefully reached down, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, and began to lift his arm off you. It was slow, nerve-wracking work, but as soon as you managed to free yourself, Heeseung let out a soft whine, shifting closer to where you’d been lying.

Panic flooded your veins as he reached out in his sleep, clearly searching for you. Without thinking, you grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and gently tucked it in your place. He relaxed immediately, his arms wrapping around the pillow as he snuggled closer to it, his breathing evening out again.

You released a quiet sigh of relief, grabbing your scattered belongings from the floor. You didn’t even bother putting the heels on, instead clutching them tightly in your hand as you made your way to the door, tiptoeing as quietly as possible.

The hallway was eerily silent compared to the chaos of last night. When you reached the staircase and descended into the main living area, the faint sound of movement caught your attention.

Jay stood near the kitchen island, tossing empty bottles into a garbage bag. He looked up when he heard you approach, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Morning,” he greeted, his tone light and teasing. “Sneaking out?”

You hesitated, your cheeks burning as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “I’m just… heading out,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Jay leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t think you’d still be here, honestly. Heeseung seemed pretty determined last night, though.”

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you quickly waved him off. “It’s not what it looks like,” you said, although even you didn’t sound convincing.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Right. Whatever you say.” He didn’t push any further, thankfully, instead returning to his cleaning.

You hurried toward the door, slipping out before anyone else could see you. As soon as you were outside, the crisp morning air hit your face, and you let out a shaky breath.

What the hell just happened?

--

You ignored the buzzing of your phone as Heeseung’s name lit up the screen again and again. Calls, texts, and even voice messages you refused to listen to—all of them went unanswered. You couldn’t deal with him right now, not after everything that had happened.

Luckily, it was Sunday, and you had no responsibilities to worry about. After taking a long, scalding shower to clear your head, you threw on your comfiest pajamas and climbed back into bed.

You tried to distract yourself with movies, mindlessly scrolling through streaming apps until you settled on something you’d seen a dozen times before. A large bag of chips sat open next to you, along with a collection of candy wrappers and an empty soda can. It was the perfect lazy day setup, except for one problem—you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

No matter how hard you tried to focus on the movie, your mind kept drifting back to Heeseung.

You groaned, shoving your face into a pillow in frustration. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? Heeseung was trouble, plain and simple. You’d known that from the start, and yet you let yourself get swept up in him anyway.

Your phone buzzed again on the nightstand, and for a moment, you considered throwing it across the room. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached for it, unlocking the screen to see yet another text from Heeseung.

Heeseung: I know you’re ignoring me, but can we talk? Please?

You sighed, locking your phone again and tossing it aside. You didn’t know what he wanted to say, but you weren’t ready to hear it.

Instead, you burrowed deeper into your blankets, determined to get through the rest of the day without letting him take over your thoughts again. But no matter how many movies you watched, or how much junk food you ate, the memory of him lingered like a stubborn shadow, refusing to be ignored.

So when Monday rolled around, you made it your mission to avoid Heeseung at all costs. You checked the cafe schedule first thing in the morning and made sure your shifts didn’t overlap with his, swapping one with a coworker to make sure you wouldn’t have to see him.

On campus, you were extra careful, keeping your head low and staying alert as you navigated between classes. You stuck to the edges of crowded hallways, dodging places you knew he might linger. Every time you rounded a corner, your stomach tensed, half-expecting to see him standing there, waiting for you.

It wasn’t easy. You’d catch glimpses of him now and then, whether it was through a classroom window or across the quad, but you always made sure to duck out of sight before he noticed you. You couldn’t risk talking to him—not yet.

By the time your shift at the cafe rolled around on Wednsday, you were already exhausted from the mental effort of dodging him. Walking through the door, you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you realized it was just you and a coworker, Jisoo, working the evening shift.

But the relief didn’t last long. Midway through your shift, while you were wiping down the counters, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a customer. Without looking up, you called out your usual greeting.

“Welcome! How can I can help—”

The words died in your throat when you glanced up and saw Heeseung standing there, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

He was dressed casually, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and he looked like he hadn’t slept well. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hand through it a dozen times.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but firm as he took a step closer to the counter.

You froze, your rag still in your hand, unsure of what to do. Jisoo was busy stocking pastries in the display case and didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in the air.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out a little shaky.

“I came to talk to you,” Heeseung replied, his tone calm but insistent. “You’ve been ignoring me, and I don’t like it.”

Your grip tightened on the rag, your mind racing for an excuse, a way out of this conversation. “I’ve been busy,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “School, work... you know how it is.”

Heeseung didn’t budge. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, leaning on the counter slightly. “But I also know when someone’s avoiding me.”

You glanced nervously at Jisoo, who was still oblivious, then back at Heeseung. “This isn’t the time or place for this,” you hissed under your breath.

“Then when is?” he shot back, his voice low but sharp. “Because I don’t think you’ll give me the chance if I don’t force it.”

The determination in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But before you could respond, Jisoo turned around, finally noticing Heeseung.

“Hey, Heeseung!” she greeted cheerfully. “You’re not working today, are you?”

“No, just stopping by,” he said smoothly, his gaze never leaving yours.

Jisoo shrugged and went back to her task, leaving you alone with him once again.

“Please,” Heeseung said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You huffed, feeling cornered with no way out, and agreed to his request, deciding that five minutes would be better than dealing with him here in front of Jisoo. The tension in the air thickened as you both moved to the back of the cafe. Heeseung’s presence loomed behind you, his silence heavy as he followed you through the narrow hallway.

Once the door to the backroom shut, you leaned against the counter, trying to gather your thoughts, but Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to breathe.

“Why did you leave so early that night?” His voice was steady, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. “Why are you ignoring me now?”

You swallowed hard, pushing aside the thoughts of the night before. It was a mistake, you told yourself. A moment of weakness. You needed to stay firm.

“It was a mistake,” you finally said, your voice coming out a little softer than you meant. “One-time thing. It won’t happen again, Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything at first, his expression unreadable. Then he took a step closer, and then another, until you were pressed up against the wall. You tried to breathe steadily, but your heart was racing now.

“Is that how you really feel?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes locked onto yours. “Do you really think it was a mistake?”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. You flinched for just a moment, but the warmth of his touch pulled you in, and you could feel his soft exhale against your mouth.

You tried to push him back, to remind yourself of the resolve you’d spent all day building, but his hands were on you, pulling you closer, and despite everything, you felt the tension in your body break. Slowly, hesitantly, you kissed him back.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself losing control of your thoughts, of everything you’d promised yourself just minutes ago. It was impossible to think straight when he was this close, his hands gentle but insistent, his lips insatiable.

Heeseung broke away for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted for breath. “You don’t have to keep pretending,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do.”

You tried to argue back, to remind yourself that this was wrong, that it couldn’t happen again, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance. His lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss, silencing any protest you might have had. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips again but then his attention dropped lower.

You couldn’t help but gasp when his lips brushed against your neck, gently revealing the marks from the night before. His fingers trailed up your skin as he pressed his lips against the sensitive spot on your collarbone. You felt a rush of heat flood through you, making it harder to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel.

His lips moved with purpose, leaving a trail of fresh hickeys on your skin, each one more darker than the last. You gripped his shirt, the fabric twisting beneath your fingers as you tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was slipping away.

"How could this be a mistake when it feels this good?" Heeseung murmured between each kiss, his voice husky. "You don’t have to lie to yourself. I know you want this just as much as I do."

With every word, every kiss, your resolve weakened, until you couldn’t remember why you wanted to fight this in the first place. The way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive. You wanted him, and there was no denying it anymore.

“This isn’t just a one-time thing, not for me,” he murmured as he kissed his way back up to your lips. "I’m what you need," he said quietly, his eyes locked onto yours with an almost pleading look. "I’ll give you what you need—what you’ve been craving, even if you don’t realize it yet."

You opened your mouth to argue back, to remind him that you weren’t looking for this, but your words caught in your throat as he suddenly knelt down in front of you.

You gasped, the shift in position catching you off guard. His hands moved quickly to grip your waist, his touch firm yet gentle, as he looked up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before.

"I’m not asking for anything from you," he whispered, his voice laced with a quiet desperation. "I just want to be what you need. Please, don’t push me away. Let me give you what I know you want."

He leaned in closer, just enough to close the distance between you, but he didn’t move further. Instead, he let his head rest gently against your legs, his hands still holding you steady, waiting for your response.

His voice softened. "I’ll be patient. But please… don’t push me away again."

He was begging you, and the intensity of his words seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.

"I can be good for you," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "No one else will make you feel like I can. No one else understands you the way I do. I promise, I’ll treat you right, I’ll give you everything you need. Just let me."

You could feel his hands tighten ever so slightly on your waist, his desperation evident. "I’ll make you happy. I know I can."

His words were persuasive, yet you remained uncertain. Was this what you really needed? What you really wanted?

Heeseung must have seen the conflict in your eyes because he softened even more, lowering his voice as if speaking to your heart. "I’m not trying to force you into anything. I just want you to know that I care about you… more than anyone else could. Please, just trust me."

For a moment, all you could do was stand there, trying to process his words. His eyes searched yours, full of hope, waiting for you to say something, anything.

Eventually you let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of the decision settling on your shoulders. After a moment of silence, you met Heeseung's gaze. "Alright," you murmured, your voice almost a whisper. "I’ll give you a chance."

Heeseung's eyes lit up instantly, the tension in his body melting away as a smile broke out across his face. Without warning, he stood up, his hands reaching to cup your face gently as he leaned in. His lips pressed against your forehead first, then, he kissed your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips. Each kiss was quick but filled with so much happiness and relief, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"I’m what you need," he mumbled against your skin.

What you need.

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[soapcloth]

-> Gallery curator!reader x bitter artist!Soap

CW: 18+ MDNI, oral in a truck, pushy soap, touchy soap

Oneshot - 1.2k words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Johnny’s a bit disgruntled about not getting into a gallery show. There’s an easy way to remedy that.

“No.” You spoke curtly, gaze steady on the man across the table from you sporting a gnarled scar from his temple that drew all the way back behind his ear. “I’m really sorry Mr. MacTavish, there’s nothing I can do to get you in the show coming up-“

“Johnny.” He interrupted.

��P-pardon?” You asked

“None of tha’ Mr. MacTavish Bull. Been pissing me off since our first appointment.” He grumbled, hand lifting to rub at this neck; staying there to massage and pick at his skin as he tried a different angle. His brows drew upwards and he shot you sad eyes. “Ah’ve been dreaming of this show, truly.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were a high end gallery curator, not customer support. “Look, I’m sorry Mr-“ You were cut down by a sharp glare. “-Johnny.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Johnny, I don’t have the final say in this, I’m only a small part of the process.” Your fingers fumbled with the espresso you had ordered. “Between us? Your work’s stunning, but you just don’t have enough of it and it didn’t quite fit this show’s theme. If you just work on growing your portfolio, I’m sure you’ll be a perfect candidate for one in the future and-“

“Can ye’ guarantee that?” He bit.

Your eye twitched. “I’m trying to help you here, Johnny.” You watched his eyes glaze over.

“Fine, wanted to get in the damn show just te’ fuck ye’ anyways.” You choked loudly, looking around to find some other cafe patrons sparing glances your way as he leaned back into his seat with an unfocused grin, the poor chair straining audibly under his bulk. “Been thinking about biting into yer’ plump ass since our first appointment. Dinnae give a fuck about the show.” He was lying to your face; partially at least, you could tell, and he could tell that you could tell.

His nose bridge twitched in the phantom of a flexing snarl as his hand ambled upwards to fuss with the deep ridges of his healed-over scar before flying down to encase your own. His hands were clammy with his skin’s residue and when you maneuvered to recoil, he turned your palm over in his; an excuse to hold on. “Fuck, ah’m messing this up royally, aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing to mess up, Mr. MacTavish.”

His eyes narrowed almost indiscernibly before closing. “Och- ah’ve messed up but ye’ve already broken my heart with the whole gallery thing, Dinnae stomp on it with this.” He swallowed. “One date?” He asked as if he hadn’t just been talking about wanting to fuck you.

You grimaced, were you ovulating? “No gallery talk?”

“None. Swear on it.” He promised, eyes dilated slightly.

He was your type if you really squinted, and clearly you were his. “Fine, you have my cell-“

He practically pulled you up, a blinding smile on his lips. “Fuck, yer’ so gorgeous, ye’ got here in a cab, right? Let me take ye’ back to the gallery.” You shot a warning glare. “Not for me, Bonnie, Oath.” His palm made contact with the base of your spine, blunt fingers dipping under your shirt hem and rubbing at the new found flesh idly. “Ye’ bring a coat, Bonnie? Cold as sin out there.”

You nodded, reaching for the garment. He was faster though- long, stupidly thick arm reaching behind you to grab the coat. “Arms out.” Johnny smiled, eager to get out of the coffee shop. You blushed, embarrassed with a sharp look on your face directed at the floor. You could do it yourself, and yet, you obliged, letting him slip the sleeves on.

Outside, you shivered in the biting cold, breath rising in a cloud before you. Johnny gripped your arms and rubbed. “Ach- fucking freezing out, let’s get ye warmed up in my truck. Had a friend put heated seats in cheap.” He boasted, guiding you into a parking garage while remaining glued to your side. He stuck to you even as you ascended a level despite your best efforts to slow down and let him go first.

His truck was exactly what you had pictured for a guy like him. Economic but well-loved; jewel tone teal with a few nicks here and there. Opening the door for you, he helped you in with a splayed palm firmly groping at your ass. “Ye’ want the heated seat on? It’s aftermarket so it’s a bit tough to figure out.” You nodded, rubbing your hands together to warm them up.

With one hand on your thigh, he reached the other over your lap to fiddle with the heat. “There.” He grinned, newly free hand patting your other thigh and staying put. “Bonnie.” He hummed.

You nodded.

His eyes flicked downwards, throat bobbing. “Can ah’ve a taste?” Your eyes widened. “Yer cunt.” He tacked on, in case you weren’t already more than aware. “Want ‘er so bad, been having wicked thoughts about this all morning.”

You let out the breath you had held in then nodded, cheeks flushed.

He wasted no time going for your buttons and yanking your underwear down literally just far enough to slot his jaw between your legs. Hot breath fanned your cunt with a shaky exhale before he was diving in. You wondered how he could breathe with his face pushed so far into your pussy- then again maybe he wasn’t with how he was so preoccupied mashing his mouth against it.

His nose nudged past your clit as his broad tongue laved unendingly across your folds sloppily, paying the designated attention to the bud before he zeroed back in on your hole. “Mmph-” he breathed out after sometime, hot air creating a small pocket before he practically inhaled it back in.

You weren’t even cognizant of the fact that your hands were firmly woven into his overgrown Mohawk until you were using it to hold him down against you as you came on his jaw. The sounds Johnny made had let you know he was grateful, happily continuing to lap at your slick like a starved animal. You swear he whined when you pulled his head back up too. Like a starved animal.

His pupils were blown and he was practically vibrating as he wiped at his jaw before proceeding to lick at his hand; all while making eye contact as you buttoned up your jeans, thighs clenched together. He pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his mouth before straightening up and walking to the driver’s side door.

He was oblivious to your bashful silence as he chatted your ear off over the old, staticky radio for the entire ride back to your workplace. “-Ye’ll have to come by my studio space sometime, help me in the right direction with my work.” He winked, one hand squeezing your thigh as he pulled into the gallery parking lot. His old truck stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the nice cars as he put the car in park. “Stay warm fer’ me, bonnie.” He beamed, patting your thigh before you hopped out, feeling uncomfortably sticky. You nodded and scurried off to the front door of the gallery, colleagues sending you curious glances. For a curator commonly perceived as high maintenance around the gallery, you looked awfully unkempt.

you froze, turning around in horror upon hearing Johnny lay on the horn to get your attention.

“Call ye’ tonight.” He hollered with a shit eating grin.

[yukioos]

SPARKS

SUMMARY: jayce talis x reader // jayce gets off work early because he wants to spend more time with you at home. once he comes home, you tease him consistently, knowing he is still nervous around you. a power outage then makes the whole city dark, and as it is winter time, jayce becomes nervous. he bundles you up in blankets, scared of the severe weather that reminds him of a traumatic experience when he was a kid.

AUTHORS NOTE: happy new year, everyone! i wish you all the best of luck, love, and happiness. i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, i have an ask of jayce comforting reader so im working on that too :) also, what do you guys think of me writing a part 3 of bed chem/part 2 to espresso? tysm for 450 followers too

WARNINGS: not proofread, reader is referred to as jayce’s wife, pet names

“i believe that’s enough work for today, viktor. we should continue tomorrow,” jayce persuaded, not telling his science partner his true intentions. he bounced his leg anxiously as if he was on edge. viktor noticed and tilted his head, showing a peak of interest as he raised his eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. “it’s becoming late, it would be better for us to come back with a new perspective for this problem.”

viktor stared at jayce as if he had stated the dumbest thing ever. he glared at the man and objected, “it is five in the afternoon! we have much more work to do, jayce, a whole city depends on us and our work! what could possibly be more important than this?” he referred to the projects and items they had created with years of research and experience. the shorter man appeared frustrated with his partner, wondering how he could say such a thing.

“my wife.” jayce responded, the corners of his lips turned downwards. he knew his best friend wouldn’t take the comment kindly, after all, he was dedicated to his work, and jayce was too. however, he didn’t expect the shorter man to react in a harsh and degrading way. it made his body feel hot, and he balled his fists up. viktor grumbled and averted his eyes. he knew how important you were to jayce, and he, being the clingiest partner ever, never liked being away from you for long periods of time.

but the desperation on jayce’s face made him hesitate, he put his feelings on hold. the taller man was known as the man of progress, everyone knew his name, and he was working himself to death. he confided in viktor once, saying he knew he was working his ass off, and he was tired, but the one thing that kept him going was you. the pale man sighed and rubbed his eyes, then surrendered, “tell her i said hi.”

he was met with a beaming smile and a chirpy voice. jayce grinned, “i will, vik. thank you.” he then grabbed his luggage and waved goodbye to the scientist, and was more than ecstatic to hear your sweet voice again.

so he smiled as he walked down the hallways of the academy and the streets of piltover, having to pause every couple of minutes to greet someone along the way. he huffed once he was close to your shared home, and by the time he was at the front steps of your house, his cheeks were freezing. it’s a good thing you, his precious wife, told him to bundle up before leaving for work this morning. if he didn’t, his whole body would be freezing! he thought, he was so thankful to have you.

he reached his hand into his coat pocket and grabbed a pair of keys, which were decorated with a keychain of a cute ‘i love you’ note from you. he smiled at the sight, then placed the key into the keyhole and twisted. he twisted again, tugged the key out, and placed it back into his soft pocket.

quickly, he was met with warm air and the smell of cupcakes invading his senses. he greeted, “darling, i’m home!” hoping to call you out from wherever you were. he glanced around before shrugging off his coat and scarf and placing it onto a hanger. he then heard little footsteps and guessed you were walking toward him from the kitchen.

“you’re home early,” you commented, by every step you took closer to him, he became more and more nervous. he started avoiding your intimidating gaze, you noticed and grinned, deciding you were going to tease him a bit more. his cheeks began to flush, and you mumbled, “you look good, baby,” he nervously chuckled and averted his gaze away, eyebrows furrowed upwards as he couldn’t fight the smile on his face.

he chuckled, “i didn’t do anything different to my face… or my outfit,” he began to stutter when you gently grabbed his tie and pulled him down to your height, “well, besides— besides the coat and— um… scarf…” he was then face-to-face with you. you tilted your head slightly to the right and tapped his cheek, wanting him to look at you.

he eyed you once he felt the touch on his face and quickly felt your lips on his in a matter of seconds. he smiled into the kiss and wrapped his large arms around you, always wanting to be as close as he could to you. you placed your hands on his shoulders, then gently massaged his scalp with your freshly manicured nails. he groaned into the kiss and his shoulders felt less tense.

suddenly, the lights in your house turn off, causing both of you to pull away from the kiss. his hands still stayed on your hips, but you let go of his body and unlocked the door, checking outside. the streets were dark. you spoke about what you were thinking, “power outage? that’s rare, isn’t it?” then turned to your husband, frowning as you realized you couldn’t see him.

he replied, “there’s never been a power outage in piltover,” he paused, eyes widening, “what about the hexgates? they’re probably out of power too, i need to fix them—“ he reached his hand out for the doorknob, but you grabbed his hand and cradled it in yours.

you interjected, “jayce, it’s not your job to make sure all the electrical stuff is working. let the other citizens handle it, it’s their job, anyway. how about we grab a flashlight from the nightstand and go read some books?” before he could respond, you walked over to the pantry and grabbed some snacks and drinks. he followed you and slowly guided you to the stairs, escorting you to your shared room.

after you grabbed your flashlight, jayce grabbed a book from a shelf and asked you to read it to him as he pointed the light at it. you were both cuddling on your large bed, his head laid comfortably on your side. as hours passed, the house became cold, and goosebumps formed on your skin.

jayce placed his hand on your arm and gently rubbed it before realizing goosebumps were a sign that the weather was severe and cold. his eyes widened and he put the flashlight down, causing you to call out his name. he shuttered and mumbled, “you need more blankets— i’ll— i’ll go get some, please change into something warmer.” but before you could tell him you felt fine, he grabbed another flashlight and headed to the linen closet. there, you stored extra blankets, and he managed to carry around seven, which was all of them.

his mind went straight to when he was a child and in a snowstorm. his mother passed out, and he was scared for his and her life. he was soon diagnosed with ptsd once he went to a therapist and told them that he always became nervous when the weather dropped. you knew about this but never wanted him to overreact, as you most of the time, were feeling fine heat-wise.

as he placed the blankets over you and grabbed a long-sleeved t-shirt from your drawers, you reached out to him. he flinched and his eyes were red, almost watering, and wide. you stated, “jayce, come back to bed, please.” and rubbed his arm comfortingly, hoping to soothe your husband.

he tried to deny your command, “but you’re cold— your goosebumps— you need something warmer—“ he continued to rummage through your drawers.

“jayce.” you harshly said, grabbing his attention quickly. he shrunk under your gaze, almost feeling ashamed of himself. he averted his gaze, but you softened your tone, “let’s head back to bed, okay? i promise you everything is fine, we’re perfectly healthy and warm.” you didn’t know exactly what to say, but he sighed and closed the drawer.

he walked to his side of the bed and laid down, and you did the same. you were both on your sides, and he had a worried expression on his face. his mind wouldn’t rest anytime soon until he knew you were safe. you hoped to comfort him, and your heart ached, never having seen this behavior from him. you scooted closer to him and kissed his forehead, causing him to slowly slip into your arms. he laid on top of you, hoping to keep you warm with his large frame.

you kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, mumbling praises and ‘i love you’s. you whispered, “we’re both safe, honey, i promise.”

as you were about to close your eyes, he mumbled, “thank you,” he was on the verge of falling asleep, then he continued, “i don’t know what i would do if you weren’t in my life. i love you.”

your heart warmed at his words, and you kissed his head once again. his breath evened out and he didn’t say much, but even as his eyes were closed, you knew deep down, he was still a little boy afraid of losing people he loved.

[reiding-writing]

Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?

BACKUP [ONESHOT]

/ˈbækˌʌp/

some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!

a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭

main masterlist!!

The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.

Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”

“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.

You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?

You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”

The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”

“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,” The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.

“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.

“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.

“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.

“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”

“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.

“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”

You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.

You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”

You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”

“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”

“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.

“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.

“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.

“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”

“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.

“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.

“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”

Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”

Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.

You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.

Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.

He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.

Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.

“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.

You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.

“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”

“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”

“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.

“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”

You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.

“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.

You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.

“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.

“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.

“You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”

“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.

“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.

“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”

You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.

“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.

Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.

It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.

You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.

It was a perfectly Spencer move.

“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.

“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.

“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.

He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.

"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.

The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.

"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.

Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.

Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.

With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”

“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.

“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.

“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.

“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.

Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"

The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"

“You’re sure?”

The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”

“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”

“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.

“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.

He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”

“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.

“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.

[atzloverr]

Mafia bf!Yunho x female reader

Here are some mafia!Yunho x reader headcannons/oneshot (idrk what to call it)

includes: Yunho x reader, violence, kidnapping, mafia au, fluff

- He never intended to become a frequent customer at your small coffee shop near ateez’ underground base

- It started as a place for him to go when he needed to escape the gruesome life of the mafia, when he just wanted some peace and quiet

-He soon found himself becoming a regular, and without trying to, starting to feel at home in your small cozy cafe

- He still remembers the first time he saw you, looking so cute in your little apron, focusing on making a specific espresso art for a customer.

- You always found yourself lighting up when Yunho entered the cafe, his presence alone bringing you comfort in an odd way

- He seemed so nice and respectful, never asking too many questions or making any noise in your shop.

- He just sat down at his usual spot, with a book in hand, sipping on a coffee you made perfectly for him

- The other members teased him about his little crush on you, noticing the way the tall male had grown fond of you

- He never let any of the members accompany him though, telling them that this was his spot, and that he wanted to separate it from the mafia life

- He almost felt ashamed of his crush on you, thinking that you deserve someone better, someone who’s not a criminal mastermind

- Regardless of his will to keep you at a distance for your own good, his need to get to know you was stronger

- He tried to promise himself not to get attached…

- You eventually started sitting next to him at times, chatting about your lives and hobbies.

- You were quick to notice his secrecy, and the way he never went into detail about his life.

- It made you a little sad, but you decided not to ask, not wanting to invade his privacy

- Yunho convinced you that you were working too hard, seeing your dark circles grow as of every day.

- When you tried to tell him the same thing, noticing the way his skin looked paler than usual, he just shrugged you off

- Somehow, word had gotten out that Yunho had a special girl, and when ateez got into a twist with another gang, the opposing gang knew exactly who their target would be…

- One night, when you were just about to get home from work, the glass door was suddenly smashed open, and a group of masked men entered the small cafe.

- You crouched down, trying to hide behind the counter, putting a hand over your mouth as the men’s voices started filling the room

- You felt your legs starting to tremble as your heart beat rapidly in your chest

- A man appeared behind the counter, harshly grabbing you. Your hand was replaced by his, as a gun was pressed to your head

- Your wide eyes scanned the room for any means of escape, but only saw three other men, equally as scary as the man holding a gun to your head

- You couldn’t understand any of this, but soon another man came up to you, eyes staring you down.

- He yelled at you to not move a muscle, and you couldn’t help but obey when a sharp needle was inserted into your arm

- You wanted to squirm. You wanted to scream, but you just couldn’t.

- You felt your eyes start to roll back, as your body grew limp in a matter of seconds.

- And then, everything went black.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

- When Yunho heard your name leave Wooyoung’s mouth, his body immediately became stiff

- “Where. Is. She?” Yunho asked, hand finding the gun in his waistband.

- Yunho was sure he had never felt this type of fear before

- When Wooyoung told him he didn’t know where you were, Yunho grabbed him by the collar, almost lifting his smaller body into the air

- “THEN FIND OUT!” Yunho yelled.

- Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed at his partner’s sudden frustration. He had never seen Yunho this angry.

- He knew that you were dear to Yunho, but not like this.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

- You slowly felt your surroundings becoming clear to you as you woke up

- You felt your arms aching, the harsh rope binding them leaving a burn in your skin

- Your eyes fluttered open, revealing the scene in front of you

- You were in a dark room, the only thing giving you a whim of the figures in front of you a small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling

- You felt your breath pick up, making the heads of the men snap towards you in an instant

- You tried to move, your instincts screaming at you to flee the situation

- “Well look who’s finally awake,” one of the men snickered, placing his cards down on the small table he sat by with his three companions.

- You felt your memories come flooding back to you from the night before, reminding you of the traumatic experience you had gone through

- You tried to speak, but a cloth in your mouth stopped you from doing so, only letting muffled sounds escape you

- The men laughed evilly, making you tear up

- Why was this happening to you?

- “What do you say boys, do we keep her alive?” one of them asked, a smirk coating his lips.

- “What would make Jeong more angry? if we kill her? or—“ another man stepped closer to your form, grabbing a fist of your hair. “If we keep her as a toy?”

- You felt tears streaming from your eyes as you squirmed desperately. You didn’t understand any of this, but you could collect that these men were purely evil.

- Just as one of them were about to leave another snarky comment, a small knock was heard from upstairs.

- Their heads perked up at the sound.

- “I’ll go get it,” one of them said, picking up a gun before leaving the basement.

- Your gaze followed him as his big body made its way up to the main floor.

- The other three men averted their attention back to you, and you braced yourself for the humiliation you were about to endure.

- “Keep her alive, she’s young and all,” a man said. You felt sick.

- As they were about to continue their discussion about whether or not you should live, a loud bang was heard from upstairs.

- Everyone tensed up in the room, including you.

- You heard multiple gunshots, and many more male voices filling the room.

- The three men in the basement stood up and grabbed their weapons. You heard the sound of guns being loaded, and couldn’t even keep your eyes opened.

- You were too scared.

- Two of the men ascended the stairs, leaving you with the man who was still holding your hair in his hand.

- “Make a sound and you’re dead,” the man warned you, pushing his gun towards your head once again.

- You breathing quickened more and more as the sounds from upstairs escalated. More gunshots and screams were heard, and they only seemed to get closer.

- The man’s grip on your hair only became tighter when the sound came closer to you. You tried to stifle your small whimpers, but they went unnoticed as they exited you anyway.

- An eerie silence filled the place, making you have to choke down your sounds of fear. Was this really the day your life was going to end? Just when things had started to go your way, everything was going to be ripped from you like this?

- You barely noticed as two men came down the stairs at an unbelievable speed. You clenched your eyes shut, not even wanting to know what was going to happen, but then, the hand in your hair suddenly vanished, same with the gun pressed against your forehead.

- The sound of a gunshot made you flinch, your head lowering in submission, as a way for you to beg for your life.

- “She’s here!” a voice called out, as a man stepped closer to you. From the sound of his voice you would guess he was younger than your kidnappers.

- A hand found your head, making you retreat in fear. You still didn’t dare to look at the man in front of you, but was surprised when the hand gently took out the cloth from your mouth, making you gasp at the sudden access to air.

- Your eyes flew open, taking in the man in front of you. He had pretty long, black hair that illuminated his face well, even in the dim lighting. The man behind him stood with his hands behind his back, as if waiting for an order.

- You heard the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs, and when you saw the man’s identity, your jaw dropped in disbelief.

- You barely noticed as the dark haired man untied your arms, too focused on the sight of the tall man in front of you.

- Yunho.

- Here he was, a panicked but somewhat relieved look on his handsome face. You let out a breath, not finding any words to say.

- Yunho sighed, a single tear dropping from his cheek.

- “Y/n,” he breathed out before rushing towards you.

- You still felt your eyes staring into nothing as his arms flew around you, his welcoming embrace making you tear up.

- You didn’t care about your questions, all that mattered was that he was here now, and you could finally cry into his warm shoulder.

- “Thank god you’re okay,” he cried. You started sobbing, letting the fear you had had to suppress wash over you.

- “I— I was so scared,” you cried, not caring about the seven men gathered around the two of you. It was like a part of you knew. Knew that you were safe with them.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

- “I never wanted you to get involved in any of this…” Yunho confessed, a hand on his forehead.

- “Well, now I am, okay?” you smiled, giving him a small peck on the cheek

- Ever since that incident, Yunho had hesitantly told you about what he actually does. He was convinced you’d run away from him in fear, but you only nodded slowly as you took in the information.

- Now, here you were, in a relationship with a member of ateez, one of the strongest mafias in town.

- You still thanked Yunho every day for saving you, but he tried to assure you that it was his fault you even ended up in that situation.

- “No, it wasn’t!” you argued, pouting almost. “It’s not your fault that they decided to go after me!” you tried.

- Yunho sighed. “That’s what we do. We don’t play nice,” he tried to explain, but you only shook your head.

- “Whatever, I love you anyway,” you said, plastering a kiss on his lips. Making him smile in a way that made your heart melt.

- “I love you too, baby.”

- The gang had started becoming more of a family to you.

- They all knew you were one of them now, since you were with Yunho.

- You had to admit that the mafia life scared you still, but you were still so lucky to find ateez.

- You had made friends for life, and they were so thankful to have you with them.

- You were like a little happy pill, always making them cheer up when they could only focus on work.

- You loved cooking with Wooyoung, playing games with Yeosang or watching movies with Hongjoong.

- It truly felt like you had found your place, even if it was in a secret underground base with eight mafia members.

Heyyyyyy guys hope you enjoyed this little drabble/oneshot or whatever I should call it. Requests are opennnn!

masterlist

[sound-of-scoups]

How Did We End Up Here? | LC | Oneshot

Pairing: Lee Chan x Female!Reader  Genre|tags: Oneshot, non idol!au, comedy, fluff, pinning, down bad Chan, acquaintances to lovers, smut.  Word count: 18.9k+ Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Warnings: Explicit language, alcohol consumption, allusion to use of weed, mentions of cheating, Chan is down bad to the point he is doubting himself, there's a Gilmore Girls reference and several 5sos song lyrics referenced as well (if you know, you know), reader has an unspoken noona kink, switch!chan, switch!reader, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, face sitting, pussy eating, cum eating, teasing, unprotected sex (you know it’s bad), creampie. If there’s more please let me know. A/N: Happy birthday to my baby (even though he's older than me lol)! I wrote this story in a complete state of mania—the idea hit me, and in less than four days, it was finished. I thought posting it today, for his birthday, would be a good idea. I accidentally posted it earlier while scheduling, but I'm ignoring that little mishap hehe. Please read my final notes!! Enjoy reading, and let me know what you think! <3 🎧 Now listening to: end up here – 5 seconds of summer; i would – one direction; obviously – mcfly; loverboy – a-wall; best friend – rex orange county; espresso – sabrina carpenter; out of my limit – 5 seconds of summer; shup and dance – walk the moon; heart out – the 1975; intoxicated – the cab; wait – dino. Read on AO3

Summary: Lee Chan has had a massive crush on you since the day he first saw you. He never thought he'd have a chance with you, since you were so obviously out of his league, but it turns out life has a way of writing the right things with crooked lines.

He knew the exact moment you walked into the house. At this point, it was as if he had a sixth sense for your presence—like a Y/N sense, if he had to name it.

Not that it was hard to tell when you did, since every face in the room turned the moment you walked in. Most people already knew who you were, and those who didn’t? Their expressions made it clear: they were dying to find out.

There was this energy about you that demanded attention, even when you weren’t trying. It wasn’t just the way you carried yourself, though that certainly played a part. It was the way people gravitated toward you, their eyes lingering, their conversations subtly shifting as if they were waiting for you to say something, to do something. 

And he—well, he had always been attuned to it. To you. Even before he truly understood why.

Tonight, when you walked through the doors of the frat house he was part of, wearing a tight black corset-style top, a short skirt that did little to cover your legs, and black thigh-high boots that made your legs appear even longer than they already were, looking absolutely breathtaking, Chan felt his head spin.

It could have been the ten shots of tequila he’d been forced to drink after losing some random game against Yeonjun a couple of minutes ago, but he knew it wasn’t. That was simply the effect you’d had on him since the day he first laid eyes on you—orientation day, two years ago. You had been in charge of welcoming the freshmen to their dorm building, and when you smiled at him like he was the most important guy there, he was a goner.

Of course he knew you were probably just doing your job as a sophomore, but still, your smile had been stuck in his mind ever since.

“Pathetic,” he heard Seungkwan's voice, followed by a slap on the back of his head.

Chan barely flinched, too busy pressed against the wall watching you every move as you wave through the crowded room like you owned the place. For him, in a way, you did. You weren’t loud about it, didn’t strut around making a scene, but there was an undeniable pull to you, one that made people shift to make space, one that had them leaning in, hoping for even a sliver of your attention.

And him? He was no better than the rest of them.

He tore his gaze away just long enough to shoot Seungkwan, who was looking at him like he was the saddest excuse for a man to ever exist, a glare. Vernon was right beside him, looking high enough to be in another dimension, and yet, was still wearing the same expression as the eldest of the three. 

“What?”

Seungkwan sighed dramatically, crossing his arms. “You look like a lovesick puppy. Again.”

It was no secret to anyone that Lee Chan had a huge, enormous and gigantic crush on you. If he was being honest, by this point, it was a surprise you didn’t know—which he had some doubts—, since he wasn’t exactly very skilled at hiding it. 

Not that he was openly hitting on you when he had the chance, because that was far from his reality. Very far, really. He had never done so and whenever he had a chance to be near you or participate in the same conversation as you, he would turn just as red as the lipstick you were wearing tonight, not to mention the stuttering he didn't even know he had. 

It was a mess. He was a mess. 

Not that he would admit that to Seungkwan, anyway. 

Chan scoffed, forcing himself to straighten up. “I do not look like a lovesick puppy.”

Seungkwan snorted. “Yeah, and I’m a background vocalist for Beyoncé.”

“You do,” Vernon said, deadpanned. “Minho just asked me if you were okay because, and I quote, ‘Chan looks like he just got hit by a truck.’”

Seungkwan tilted his head to the side, nudging him with his elbow. “Chan-ah, are you seriously gonna spend the rest of your college years pining after this girl?” 

His face flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration tugging at him. Chan opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Because what was he supposed to say? That he wasn’t pining? That he wasn’t completely, utterly, hopelessly gone for you? Even he wasn’t delusional enough to deny it.

Seungkwan, apparently sensing his internal struggle, let out a long-suffering sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

Chan scowled, lifting his drink to his lips if only to hide his face and Vernon chuckled, clearly enjoying the way his younger friend was unraveling under the pressure of their teasing.

“Just go talk to her,” he said, voice slow and lazy. “She doesn’t bite, dude.”

“Easy for you to say,” Chan muttered, his eyes flickering back to you, who were now chatting with your friends in the corner. “She’s your friend.”

Oh yeah, there was also this little detail: you were Vernon’s classmate. 

Not only were you both seniors, you were also majoring in the same program—linguistics—meaning you shared the vast majority of your classes. Chan knew you were in the same study group and that you were paired up for most of the projects, which had led to a friendship that he very much envied.

You might think that having a mutual friend would make things easier for him, but you’d be completely wrong. Soon he discovered that Vernon wasn’t willing to help. Not because he didn’t believe Chan had a chance with you, but because he insisted that Chan should grow a pair and talk to you himself.

Which of course, he had already shown incapability of doing so thousands of times. 

Seungkwan clicked his tongue. “You really are pathetic.”

“Hyung—” Chan groaned. 

“I mean, come on,” Seungkwan interrupted, trying to finish his point. “You can deadlift three plates but you can’t say one sentence to a girl you like?”

Chan glared at him. “That is not the same thing.”

“Yeah, one requires actual effort,” Vernon added, smirking.

By now, he was used to all the teasing from his friends. It didn’t keep him from wanting to strangle them any less though. 

Either way, there wasn’t much he could do. It wasn’t just about the amount of courage he had or how much effort he put into it; crushing on you for the last two years had felt like playing a game he was destined to lose. Even though in the deepest desires of his mind he was your boyfriend, that role was already filled by someone much older than him. 

A Marine dude, apparently. His name? Chan didn’t care. 

Not only was he the most lucky dude on the planet by having you as his girl, he was also tall, strong and a walking definition of everything Chan wasn’t: confident, assertive, the complete opposite of the shy mess he’d been around you since day one. He would probably kill Chan without warning if he could peek into his mind and see all the dreams he had about you. 

And the guy irritated the fuck out of him. Something about his attitude, his hundred tattoos, the fact that he was probably three times his height, and the way he marked his territory by walking you to every class, every day. Like, damn, dude, we get it, she’s yours. At least let the rest of us appreciate the divine gift the universe sent us by looking at her.

Every time Chan saw him, he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of the competition. The worst part? You didn’t seem happy with him and everyone knew it. And even though it was clear from every word and every look that you were completely unaware of Chan’s feelings, the thought of you with someone else—someone like him—made his insides twist in ways he didn’t know he could feel.

“She has a boyfriend,” Chan said out loud, feeling a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue as he did. 

“So?” Seungkwan arched an eyebrow. “I don’t see him here. Do you?”

He directed his last question to Vernon, who just shrugged and shook his head. “Nope.”

Chan swallowed hard, eyes darting toward you again. Sure enough, there was no sign of your boyfriend. Not that he was about to get his hopes up. He had enough self-awareness to know he was probably just grasping at straws, because even if he never existed at all, Chan still wasn’t sure he’d have the guts to walk up to you.

“Look, man,” Seungkwan said, breaking through his dark thoughts. “You’ve gotta stop comparing yourself to him. You’re Lee Chan. You have a million things going for you, and besides…” He paused for effect. “You’re way better looking.”

“Thanks for the support,” Chan replied dryly, rolling his eyes.

Vernon chimed in, “Seriously, dude. You’re smart, funny, and way more likable than that guy. You just need to show her that.”

Chan sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “It's not that simple, guys.”

“It is that simple,” Seungkwan shot back. “You’re making it complicated.”

Before Chan could argue, the music shifted, the bass thrumming through the floorboards, and a new wave of partygoers stumbled in, laughing and chattering loudly. His attention snapped back to you, just in time to see you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your lips curling into a soft smile at something one of your friends said. The sight alone made his pulse quicken.

Then, as if you could feel his eyes on you, your gaze flickered up and locked onto his.

Chan froze.

It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t just a glance that skimmed over the room, landing on him by chance. No, this was intentional. You looked at him like you had known he was there all along, like you’d expected to find him in that exact spot, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand and his friends at his side.

And then, as if to send him straight into cardiac arrest, your lips, marked by the most beautiful shade of red he had ever seen, curved into a smile. 

For a split second, it felt like the entire world blurred around the edges, muffled voices fading into static. Your eyes lingered, holding his in a way that sent a rush of heat down his spine. Then, just as quickly as it happened, you turned back to your friend, your fingers wrapping around the red cup in your hand as if nothing had transpired.

He was sure he had just checked off a box on the list of clichés where the lovestruck fool forgets how to breathe. His fingers tightened around the red cup in his hand, his heartbeat hammering so loudly he was certain Seungkwan and Vernon could hear it.

Chan looked away just a second before he heard, “She’s coming over,” Vernon said, and for once, his voice didn’t sound amused. It sounded almost surprised.

He blinked, breaking free from whatever trance he had fallen into. “What?”

Seungkwan’s hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him once. “She. Is. Coming. Over.”

He barely had a second to react before you started making your way through the crowd, weaving between bodies with practiced ease, heading straight toward them. The air in the room seemed to thicken with every step you took in his direction, and though he told himself to stay cool, to not let it show, he knew the battle was already lost. His grip on his cup tightened, his pulse a frantic rhythm beneath his skin.

Seungkwan shifted beside him. “Oh, this is gonna be good,” he muttered, half under his breath.

“Act normal,” Chan whispered to himself. Or at least he thought so. 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Vernon mumbled. 

Chan shot him a sharp look, but before he could tell him to shut up, you were there—standing right in front of him, close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume, something so sweet and heady that made his head spin.

“Hello, boys,” you greeted them, your voice light but with a touch of something that made his breath catch. 

Trying to play it cool, Chan swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the red cup in his hand as he forced himself to meet your gaze. Up close, you were even more mesmerizing, your eyes alight with something he couldn’t quite place, the corners of your lips curving into the kind of smile that made his stomach flip.

“Hey,” he managed to say collectively with the other two, his voice steadier than he felt.

Beside him, Seungkwan looked like he was barely restraining himself from narrating the entire interaction like he was watching some kind of reality TV show on Netflix—Lee Chan’s Inferno, the live show. 

Your eyes flickered between the three of them briefly before settling back on Chan. 

“Nice party,” you said, flashing them a smile as you nodded towards the crowd of people scattered around their house. “Full house, I’ve been told.”

It was the first party the three of them had organized since the older members graduated, making them the hosts tonight. They hadn’t expected it to be a great success, but judging by the number of people in the house, it seemed they had been wrong.

“Thanks,” The three of them said in unison again and you let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows in curiosity. 

“Are you guys okay? What are you drinking? I know for a fact Hansol is just as high as the Namsan Tower.” 

He knew you weren't just talking to him, but Chan was pretty sure his soul was leaving his body.

It wasn’t just that you were standing in front of him, looking every bit like you walked straight out of his dream, it was the way you were looking at him. Like you were actually interested in what he had to say, like he wasn’t just another person in this house; and like you weren’t effortlessly stealing the air from his lungs.  

Meanwhile, his brain? Completely fried.

Your laugh—soft, amused, and way too pretty—sent something dangerously warm through his chest. You tilted your head to the side, as if you were analyzing his face. “What’s your name?”

His world seemed to stop for a second. 

Even though the two of you weren’t close—or even friends—he was sure you knew his name. I mean, Vernon was his best friend. You were Vernon’s friend. You knew his name… right?

This was the worst possible scenario. The girl he had a crush on bigger than the entire Asian continent didn't know his name?

Yeah. The ground could open up and swallow him whole right now, and he wouldn’t even fight it.

This couldn’t be happening.

“You don’t know my name?” He didn’t even know he could finish a whole sentence around you, let alone a question, his voice somehow steady despite the absolute horror pooling in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Seungkwan and Vernon exchanging looks—surprised, amused, and definitely holding back laughter.

“Oh, I know your name, Channie,” Your lips twitched, like you were trying not to laugh. “Just making sure you're still sober enough to remember it.”

Chan felt his face heat up instantly, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over him all at once, brain barely registering the sweet way you said his name. Seungkwan outright cackled, slapping his knee, while Vernon just shook his head with a knowing smirk.

“Oh,” was all Chan managed to say at first, his brain short-circuiting at the way you looked at him, teasing, confident, completely in control of the situation. “Chan. Lee Chan.”

You tilted your head, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Good.” 

Suddenly, Chan was painfully aware of how close you were. Close enough that he could count the faint shimmer of highlight on your cheekbone, see the way your lashes fluttered when your gaze briefly flickered down to his mouth? No. He had to be imagining that. Maybe he had had a little too much tequila. Maybe it was time to put his cup down, go upstairs and sleep.

He blinked. Then, realized he had been silent for far too long. 

“I—uh—” he started, then immediately hated himself for it. He could already feel the tips of his ears getting hot from how red they possibly were.

“He's fine,” Seungkwan said for him. “We're all fine.”

You just smiled again, that knowing, unreadable smile that sent Chan’s pulse into overdrive. “If you say so.”

Vernon cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he started, clearly trying to fill the silence. “Are you having fun?”

“I just got here, actually,” you said, taking a slow sip from your cup. They already knew that, yet they nodded anyway, as if just finding out. “But everyone else seems to be having a lot of fun.”

The four of you glanced around the packed house, noting also the constant flow of guests coming and going through the front door. Some faces were familiar to Chan, ones he had seen somewhere on campus, while others were completely new. The living room was almost unrecognizable—dismantled, with couches pushed aside to make room for a dance floor. A mini bar had been set up in the corner, where a barman served specialty drinks, and even more booze filled the kitchen for those who wanted specific things. 

Everywhere he looked, people were jumping, grinding, kissing, chatting animatedly, smoking and drinking, while plastic cups littered the floor alongside crushed cigarette butts, joints, and scattered snacks trampled underfoot. Chan was so absorbed in your presence that he didn’t even think about the mess he’d eventually have to clean up after the party was over. 

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and perfume, and honestly, Chan was surprised none of the neighbors had called the police yet. Sure, Sigma Vita Tau’s annual homecoming parties were always packed, but this one was on another level, and he felt very proud of it.

The music thumped steadily, neon lights casting shifting colors over the crowd. Then Seungkwan threw out another question for you, so casually that Chan almost missed his intention. “Did you came alone?”

“Well, I came with Nayoung and Dahyun,” you replied, shrugging. “But I lost them somewhere by coming here to talk to you guys.”

Seungkwan shot Chan a look—one that screamed Don’t mess this up—before turning back to you with a knowing smile. “Ah, so you chose to be here with us instead of running off to find them?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I guess I did.”

Chan, who had been determinedly sipping his drink to avoid making a fool of himself, nearly choked. His mind latched onto your words like they meant something far deeper than casual conversation.

Seungkwan smirked. “Makes sense. We're great company.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

“So your boyfriend’s…” Vernon trailed off.

“Not here.”

The words slipped out of your mouth like a subtle declaration, and just like that, Chan felt the weight of it. Your boyfriend wasn’t here. For some reason, the confirmation made him feel a little lighter, though he knew that was dangerous territory. 

He had no right to feel relieved. You weren’t his, after all.

Seungkwan raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “Really?” He smirked. “No boyfriend? That’s new.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by their teasing. “He’s busy with something, I guess.” 

You glanced down briefly, scratching behind your ear before your eyes flicked over to Chan, catching his gaze for a fraction of a second before he quickly looked away, embarrassed by the sudden spike in his heartbeat. 

“Ohhh,” Seungkwan dragged out, exchanging another look with Vernon. “So you’re free to enjoy the night however you want.”

You let out a soft hum, tilting your head slightly as if considering his words. “I suppose so.”

Chan took another sip of his drink, trying to play it cool once again, but his grip was a little too tight around the cup. His mind was running a mile a minute, filled with thoughts he probably shouldn’t be having.

“You seem awfully interested in that drink,” you suddenly pointed to his cup, raising a curious eyebrow and shifting your weight to one leg, one hand resting on your hip. “What are you drinking?”

Chan glanced down at the red cup in his hand like he’d never seen it before. In truth, he had no idea what was in it—he’d grabbed it off the counter earlier when someone shoved it at him, too distracted by your presence to care.

“Uh…” He swirled the liquid inside, as if that would magically tell him what it was. “Something… alcoholic?”

Seungkwan groaned beside him. “Wow. Smooth.”

You chuckled, the corner of your lips quirking up. “That’s very specific, Channie.”

Chan nearly choked. The way you said his name—so casually, so effortlessly—made his brain short-circuit again. 

Everything he wished for—right after you, of course—was that he had scientific explanations for the way his body and brain reacted to your actions and words. And even then, maybe it wouldn’t be enough for him. 

I mean, Chan was a popular guy. A lot of people knew him around the campus, hell, he was a member of one of the most exclusive fraternities at university, was the current best dancer on the program since Minghao had graduated, packing the school theater every time he performed, and he also wasn’t exactly unknown among girls; he wasn’t particularly proud of it, but he had a reputation.

So why was it that, whenever he was around you, he acted like a complete loser?

It was a case to be studied closely and for days, perhaps years.

Seungkwan, probably sensing that Chan was never going to get a full sentence out at this rate, answered for him. “Tequila. Too much tequila. Yeonjun was bullying him a little.”

At the mention of Yeonjun, you hummed in amusement, your lips pressing together like you were holding back a laugh. Then, without warning, you reached forward and plucked the cup from his hands, bringing it to your lips for a sip. You pulled a slight face at the taste, but to Chan’s absolute horror (and delight), you took another small sip before handing the cup back to him.

“Sounds about right,” you mused, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “And how’s that going for you?”

Chan blinked. 

“Oh, you know,” he forced out, voice slightly rougher than intended, “just trying to stay upright.”

It was a miracle. He had managed to form a coherent sentence.

You laughed softly, and Chan felt like he had just been hit with a wave of relief. The sound was like music to his ears. “Well, that’s an important skill to have.”

Seungkwan muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like pathetic, but Chan was too busy trying to figure out if you were just being nice or if there was something more behind your words. 

“So…” you said, drawing out the word as if weighing it in your mind. “You having fun?”

Fun. Right. That was why he was here. “Uh. Yeah. It’s a party, so… yeah.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That convincing, huh?”

Chan cleared his throat, trying to wrest away the heat creeping up his neck. “I mean, yeah. It’s fun.” He nodded a little too enthusiastically, as if trying to convince both of you.

You hummed, unconvinced, tilting your head just slightly. The way your eyes scanned his face sent his brain into overdrive. Was he being obvious? Did you know?

But before he could embarrass himself further, the speakers erupted with the unmistakable intro of Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi, and the entire room burst into excited screams—just like you, who threw your head back and let out a moan of happiness.

Chan was certain he felt his entire body shiver at the sound, his mind drifting to places it shouldn’t. He was pretty sure he was already halfway to living on a prayer. 

“I love this song,” you said, eyes lighting up as you turned your head to them with a grin so radiant it nearly knocked him off his feet. 

Two seconds later, Dahyun called your name from across the room. “Come dance with us.”

You turned your head slightly, offering her a small nod of acknowledgment before looking back at them.

 “I have to go,” you said, pointing with your thumb over your shoulder at your friend. “See you guys around.”

Chan's heart sank a little at the sudden shift, the moment slipping away faster than he could grasp it. He opened his mouth, almost as if to protest, but the words never made it past his lips. He was still fumbling, unsure of what to say or do in this kind of situation.

But then you gave him one last smile—quick, but enough to leave him breathless—and started to turn away. You took a few steps forward, then stopped, turning around and staring directly at him; not at him, Vernon and Seungkwan—just him. 

“I love your shirt, by the way.”

And just like that, you were gone, moving through the crowd again, leaving him standing there with his heart pounding and his mind reeling, staring in astonishment at the Kurt Cobain shirt he was wearing.

Seungkwan snorted beside him, pulling him out of his daze. “You’re hopeless.”

Chan, still staring after you, muttered, “I know.”

You had disappeared from the party half an hour ago, using the excuse of heading to the bathroom, only to end up on the balcony of one of the few rooms upstairs with an unlocked door.

To be honest, you weren’t really in the mood for a party, but after Nayoung and Dahyun insisted so much on getting you out of your room, despite your repeated insistence that you weren’t affected by the recent events in your life, you eventually agreed to join them at Sigma Vita Tau’s annual homecoming party.

So far, it had been a lot of fun; you’d danced with your friends, played beer pong and pool with people you didn’t even know and a couple of people you did know. But when everyone decided it was time to start a game of seven minutes in heaven, you knew it was time to get away, especially since the only person you wanted to kiss wasn’t in the circle and was clearly avoiding you, as he always did.

That person was currently downstairs, probably laughing at something his friends said, or even kissing someone under the staircase, completely unaware of how much space he took up in your thoughts.

With a sigh, you sat down at the railing, the cool night air a relief against your flushed skin. The music from the party thumped through the walls, muffled but still loud enough to remind you of the chaos inside. You were fine with missing the game, better than sitting there, pretending you wouldn’t feel a pang of jealousy if someone else pulled his name. 

That last one, of course, was a scenario you created in your own head where he decided to show up and play just because the universe hated you that much. 

You weren’t even sure when it had started, this thing. The way your eyes always searched for him in a crowd, the way your heart did that stupid little skip whenever he smiled at you, especially at times when he didn't seem to realize he was smiling. Maybe it had always been there, waiting for the right moment to make itself known and now was the perfect opportunity for it, considering all circumstances. 

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed the door creak open behind you until the warmth of another presence filled the space.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to.”

It was almost two in the morning when Chan decided he’d had enough of the party. You had already disappeared minutes ago to God knows where, and even though your friends were still downstairs playing seven minutes in heaven, he was pretty sure you’d gone home. Your boyfriend had probably come by to pick you up at some point, like he always did, and Chan miraculously hadn't noticed.

All night long, he had watched you from afar, dancing and playing games with his friends. You were laughing with Vernon, teasing Seungkwan, and even giving Yeonjun a hard time. You looked completely at ease, like you belonged there somehow. But every time his gaze lingered on you, he felt that familiar twist in his stomach. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly, but the kind of longing that made his chest tighten. You were surrounded by his friends, sure, but in his mind, you were still just very much... out of reach.

Now, he was exhausted, tired of feeling like a failure for not having the courage to approach you, even just to start a conversation. He hadn’t taken Vernon’s advice, hadn’t shown you how much better he could be than your boyfriend. So, instead of dwelling on it any longer, he simply said goodbye to everyone and headed up to his room.

After cursing himself for forgetting to lock the door, Chan headed inside, silently thanking the universe that no one was there. Everything was in place, neat and undisturbed, clearly showing it hadn’t been used as a place for a couple to make out, or worse. After finally locking the door behind him, he sat on the edge of the bed, calmly taking off his shoes as he recapped the night in his head. 

He sighed, lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Seungkwan was right; this was getting pathetic, really. He had talked to people all night, joked around, even had a decent time despite the chaos. But when it came to you, his heart always raced in a way that made him second-guess every move. 

He was such a big fool. 

A fool for you, apparently. 

For a brief moment, Chan watched as the long curtains that divided the room from the balcony swayed in the wind, revealing a figure sitting on the railing.

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on the figure. The silhouette was unmistakable, even in the dim light—your figure, perched on the balcony railing, legs dangling, one hand resting on your knee. He wasn’t sure how long you’d been there, but the sight of you, calm and seemingly lost in thought, made him hesitate. Again. 

The cool night air swept in, ruffling the curtains and causing them to dance with the wind again, almost as if they were beckoning him. For a brief moment, Chan considered staying put, convincing himself that you probably just needed some space, some quiet time away from the party. But then the thought of you sitting out there alone made his chest tighten, as if the universe was giving him a second chance to do things right, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was standing up and crossing the room.

He reached the balcony door quietly, not wanting to startle you. The cool breeze hit his face as he stepped outside, the sound of music and laughter from the party downstairs still faintly echoing in the distance. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, but it was hard when you were so close.

You looked like an angel sitting there, and his brain nearly short-circuited when he noticed you were wearing the hoodie he had left on the chair earlier that day.

Chan never liked people invading his space, especially his room, and even less so when they were uninvited. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have kicked them out on the spot. But it was you. Not only did it not bother him, but he found himself loving the sight of you in his clothes, as if the hoodie had been made for you to wear too.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to.”

You turned your head at the sound of his voice, blinking in surprise at his appearance.

“Chan?” You said his name like you couldn’t quite believe it, like maybe you were the one dreaming and not him. He smiled.

“Hey,” he managed to say, his voice gentle, words just loud enough to be heard over the distant music. “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, offering a small smile, grateful for the concern in his eyes. “Just needed a break. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

Chan hesitated for a moment before leaning against the railing next to you, his posture a little stiff but his presence somehow calming. “I get it,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting down to the street below. “I kind of feel the same way sometimes. All the noise, all the people, it’s a lot.”

You chuckled softly, turning slightly toward him. “You? A dancer major?”

He really wanted to use this opportunity with you to make a good impression and follow his friends' advice. But when he looked at you again, his brain went into a tailspin trying to process the way his hoodie looked on you, like it belonged to you just as much as it did to him. 

Still, he forced himself to get the words out.

“Yeah, well… dancing is different,” he admitted, glancing at you with a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’s loud, sure, but it makes sense. It’s the kind of noise I can control.”

You hummed in understanding, swinging your legs slightly. “And parties?”

“Not so much.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the distant music from the party below blending with the rustling of the trees. The longer Chan stood beside you, the more his nerves settled, though that didn’t stop his heart from hammering in his chest. He had spent so long watching you from a distance, convinced that any moment spent too close would give him away. And yet, here you were, in his hoodie, in his bedroom’s balcony. 

Chan opened his mouth, but nothing came out, as usual. He was already surprised that he had managed to form other sentences before, since his brain was still trying to catch up with everything that's happening. 

You were standing in his bedroom—his bedroom—at two in the morning.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you had any idea what you did to him with just a small action.

You shifted a bit, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, the cool breeze tugging at your hair while you analyzed his well-defined profile.

You’d known the SVT boys for a while now, and they always carried this… chaotic energy, like one was constantly balancing and matching out the other’s freaks without the slightest trace of embarrassment or shame. That, in fact, was the reason why you liked being around them so much; they were different from the guys in the other fraternities at this university. Not to mention their parties were the best on campus and probably the most female-friendly and safe.

Every now and then, you found yourself in the company of one of them. Whether it was Vernon, who was already your friend and classmate, or Joshua, who once served as the english literature tutor for your study group back in freshman year, or even Seungkwan, in the one ancient studies class you share this semester.

Sometimes, it seemed like they were everywhere on campus, as if, whenever you needed one, they would magically appear—like when Abby blew out a candle in that Disney Channel movie 16 Wishes, except in this case, there were only 13. 

Lee Chan, however, was the member you hardly ever heard the voice of. You just couldn’t tell if he was always like that or if the problem was you, specifically. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” you asked, your tone light, trying to keep the mood casual, though there was an underlying curiosity in your voice.

Chan chuckled at your question, running a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed but still amused by it. He forced himself to say something, anything, before he made even more of a fool of himself. “I—uh. No, I mean, I do. Sometimes. I talk.”

Brilliant. Just brilliant. 

For someone who was usually a yapper, he had become an expert at being at a loss for words around you. Before this moment, he hoped you wouldn't notice, but your question showed him that was clearly not the case.

Your lips twitched, like you were trying not to laugh. But it wasn’t in a cruel way, not like you were laughing at him. “That’s good to know,” you replied, nodding like you were filing the information away for later.

He couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more at ease despite the awkwardness that lingered. You weren’t making him feel self-conscious about his words, just... making him feel seen by you in a way that made his chest tighten, because that never happened before. 

“I promise I can carry a conversation most of the time,” he added, his voice lighter this time, trying to steer the awkwardness away. “Just... not always the best at small talk.” 

He gave a shrug, hoping you would take it as more of a self-aware joke than anything else.

You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing. “Small talk is overrated anyway. It’s the big stuff that matters.”

Chan tilted his head slightly, studying your expression. 

“What kind of big stuff are we talking about here?” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but inside, he was celebrating wildly; not just because he was managing to talk to you, but because you were talking to him too.

Perched on the railing, you shifted slightly to face him fully, your hands gripping the edge as you met his gaze. 

“Like... real conversations. The kind where you actually get to know someone,” you said, your voice softer now, almost a little serious. 

Suddenly, Chan felt like the air between you two shifted, and he couldn’t decide whether it was the wind or something else making him feel more aware of every movement you made and every word you said. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the rush of thoughts flooding his mind. “I guess... I guess you're right.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. From where you stood, the cheers of the crowd downstairs faded into the background with each new pair being chosen, distant enough to feel like you’re both in another world entirely. 

Up here, it was just you and him, standing at the edge of something that Chan didn’t even know what. 

He shifted slightly, his fingers grazing the concrete railing as he debated whether he should say more, whether he should push this moment just a little further or not, since you seemed to be enjoying your own company until a few minutes ago, even if it was in his room.

The only thing he didn’t want to do was let it slip away.

Instead, he asked the question that had been circling in his mind since the moment he spotted you through the curtains. “So, uh… how did you find my room?”

Chan watched as you froze, your eyes slowly widening while your brain processed his question. Your gaze followed his, and the moment you registered what you were wearing, a soft laugh escaped your lips—one that sent his pulse into overdrive. 

“Oh, shit,” you said, blinking, voice showing your very obvious surprise. 

You seemed to realize the absurdity of the situation at the exact same moment the words slipped past your lips, your gaze flickering between him and the hoodie. 

“Wait, no—” you started, clearly flustered. “I wasn’t snooping or anything, I swear.” Your hands gripped the hem of the hoodie as if it might disappear if you didn’t hold onto it. “I—I didn’t know this was your room. I promise I wasn’t—I mean, I just—”

“You just… what?” he managed to ask, still amazed that you were standing in front of him, in his hoodie—did he stress this enough?—after a night of him avoiding you because he was convinced he had lost every chance he had after your interaction earlier. 

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. There was no way this could be less embarrassing. “I was looking for a quiet place to hide from the whole seven minutes in heaven thing. Found an unlocked door, thought it was an empty guest room, and, uh… turns out, it wasn’t.”

Chan stared at you, his heartbeat loud in his ears. “And the hoodie?”

A sheepish smile tugged at your lips. “It was on the chair. It was cold. Thought it looked comfy.”

It was comfy. But that wasn’t the point.

He swallowed, trying not to let the warmth spreading through his chest take over. This—you—was the last thing he expected tonight. And yet, here you were, standing in his room at two in the morning, looking impossibly good in his clothes. Maybe the universe was on his side after all.

You were still seated there, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you should stay or go. And maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, but for the first time all night, Chan didn’t feel like running away.

Instead, he exhaled, leaning back as he met your gaze. “Well,” he said, forcing a small smirk. “Guess it looks better on you anyway.”

He had no idea where this sudden courage was coming from. Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in his system, even though hours had passed since his last drink. Whatever it was, he was just glad he had found the nerve to flirt with you. Even if just a little bit.

Your lips twitched, and for a second, he thought you might say something. But then you just shook your head, voice quieter now. “I’m sorry for invading your space. Do you want me to leave?”

Chan swallowed hard. He knew what the right answer was. Knew what Vernon and Seungkwan would tell him to do. Knew that you still had a boyfriend. But with you standing there, wearing his hoodie, looking at him like that…

Yeah. He was completely screwed.

“No, stay,” he said, a little too eagerly. Then, realizing how desperate he must’ve sounded, he cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “I mean… if you want to.”

You tilted your head, watching him in that way that made his stomach flip. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Chan let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair. Still, he wanted to make sure. “Unless you want to go back?”

You glanced toward the door, as if weighing your options, before exhaling a small laugh. “Not really.”

Chan tried not to read too much into it. He tried not to let the fact that you were still standing there, apparently in no rush to leave, get to his head. “Then stay,” he said again, softer this time.

“Okay,” you said after a beat. Then, with a teasing smile, you added, “But only if I get to keep the hoodie.”

Chan huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine. You can keep it.”

You grinned. “Thanks.”

“I mean… I might have to fight you for it later.”

“Oh, I’d win,” you shot back without hesitation, a smug little smirk playing at your lips.

And god, Chan believed you. Because you would only need to say the words and that hoodie would be yours forever.

There was a comfortable silence between you after that, the weight of the night settling in. The distant cheers from downstairs had died down a little, and the music had shifted to something slower, more subdued. It felt like the whole world had softened around the edges. 

You tilted your head slightly, as if studying him, and Chan felt his pulse quicken again. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him so nervous. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or the way your eyes were holding an amused curiosity whenever you looked at him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at your boyfriend.

At the thought of him, Chan’s expression faltered slightly, and he turned away, gripping the railing a little tighter than necessary. He had no right to feel the way he did, no right to want things he couldn’t have. But he was here now, alone with you in the quiet of the night, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to imagine that things were different.

Chan turned to you again, watching as you stared out at the horizon now. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he spoke next, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

“So where's your boyfriend?”

If you were surprised by the question, you didn’t let it show. He saw you lowering your head and letting out a not very happy laugh through your nose. 

The truth was, you were surprised by his question, but at the same time, you weren’t. Jongin wasn’t exactly known for being non-territorial; he was always where you were, and when he couldn’t be, he made sure to show up at some point. But the way Chan’s question slipped out so easily, so curious, paralyzed all your instincts—the ones that told you to take it slow, to breathe between the end of your relationship with Jongin and the leap you were considering to take when you agreed to come here tonight.

And then, the confession slipped out of your lips before your brain could stop it. “He's...not my boyfriend anymore.”

Chan’s eyes widened slightly at your words. His stomach churned with an uncomfortable mix of relief and confusion, and he blinked a few times, processing your words. 

Would he go to hell for feeling immensely happy with that confession you had just made? Probably. And he would slow dance with the devil, grinning from ear to ear nonetheless.

“Not your boyfriend anymore?” He repeated after you. “Why not?”

You shrugged, a casual motion that didn’t match the weight of your words, finally looking up to meet his gaze again. “Didn't want to be.”

That was only half true, and you knew it. It wasn’t like you wanted to be his girlfriend either. But still, you weren’t the one who ended things by cheating on him with your step sister. You’d probably still be with him if he hadn’t decided to put an end to it in the worst way possible, even if your heart was beating for someone completely different already. 

Was it weird that you felt relieved to be cheated on, because it finally gave you a reason to leave?

“He’s an idiot then.” Chan spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts. When you looked at him, his eyes were filled with genuine empathy. You smiled gratefully, appreciating his compassion.

Not wanting to weigh the moment, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

Chan frowned slightly. “I doubt it,” he said, before adding, “But why?”

You shrugged again. “It wasn’t like I was dying to stay in that relationship, you know.”

The way you said it, almost too calmly, threw him off. I mean, he knew you weren’t very happy in your relationship; it was evident in your body language around Jongin. But he didn’t expect it to go as far as you wishing you weren’t actually in it. 

He wanted to ask more, to understand what had happened, but a part of him feared that prying would make him sound even more pathetic. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing on, his voice low and a little uncertain. “Wait, so you didn’t want to be with him either?”

You didn’t hesitate, your expression not betraying any emotion, but your voice was sharp when you replied. “Not really. I didn’t even like him in the end. I guess I just stayed longer than I should have because it was… comfortable.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a great reason to stay.”

Chan bit his lip, trying to digest your words. Part of him wanted to reach out, to comfort you somehow, but he didn’t know where to start. The realization that you were no longer with him, the guy who seemed to have always been in the picture, stirred something in him—a sense of hope he wasn’t prepared to feel. But he kept it buried, not wanting to come off too eager, too quick to assume.

“It wasn’t,” you admitted. “But it’s hard to walk away from something when you don’t have a reason big enough to leave.”

“And what finally made you leave? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“You’re funny.” You smiled, head tilted to the side as you locked gazes with him. “I’ve never really got to actually talk to you before. Yet, here we are,” you gestured to the space between you with your hands. “I like this side of you. Curious and talkative Channie”

“Yeah?”

Chan swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, even if he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He was happy that being alone with you had finally awakened that side of him: more talkative and more responsive. 

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I do.” Then you sighed, before saying, “To answer your question: he cheated on me with my step sister.”

His eyes widened and suddenly he was back to not knowing what to say, so he stayed quiet for a moment. Chan’s brain raced, his heart pounding. Was it bad that the idea of you being available—of there being a chance for something, whatever it might be—be the only thing that appeared in flashing neon signs in his head? 

Either way, he was glad you had gotten out of a relationship that clearly wasn’t good for you. He was happy that you had gotten rid of the asshole who was known for only dating girls ten years younger than him—the asshole who never let you breathe.

“Why did you date him anyway? Guy’s a jerk,” The words escaped his mouth before he could even control them. 

“He gave me just the right amount of attention, at the right time,” you answered without hesitation, shrugging again. “Have you ever heard ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’?” 

Chan frowned, processing your words. Well, that was sad. 

“I’ve heard of it,” he said quietly, the weight of your response settling in the space between you. The way you spoke about it, almost like you were talking about a lesson learned the hard way, made him feel a pang of sympathy for you.

“Yeah,” you continued, voice soft but steady, eyes searching his face. “I didn't realize I deserved more until the moment I woke up from the trance I’d been stuck in for two years.”

Listening to you confess to him all of this without thinking twice and sounding so sincere, made his stomach twisted with something like a mixture of frustration and admiration. He could see how hard it must’ve been for you, but at the same time, something in him wanted to protect you, to offer the kind of attention and care that wasn’t half-hearted, something real and full of understanding.

Something you truly deserved.

“You do deserve more,” he finally said, voice quiet but firm. “Everyone does. And if you want it, you can have it. No one should make you feel like you don’t.”

He hoped you understood the undertone of his words. Though he was genuine in what he said, he wanted to be everything you deserved—the more you could and should have. God knew how much he wanted it, and how far he would go to show you that. But in that moment, he also wanted to offer words of comfort, to be the shoulder you might need.

You didn’t say anything for a while, just standing there, letting the noise of the party hum around you both. Finally, you exhaled. 

“It’s hard to let go of what you’ve known, even when it’s not good for you,” you admitted, almost like you were talking to yourself more than him. “But sometimes, I guess you need to make space for something better, even if it’s scary.”

Chan’s heart beats faster at your words. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew one thing: this conversation, this moment between you, felt different than anything he had experienced with you before. It felt real.

“Do you think…” he started, and then stopped, unsure of what to ask. He was afraid that anything he said might ruin the moment. But your expression softened in a way that made his heart skip another beat.

“Maybe,” you said, voice low but deliberate, eyes never leaving his. “Maybe I need to stop accepting what I think I deserve and start going after what I actually deserve.”

Chan swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The air between you felt charged now, heavier than it should have been. He felt like he was standing on the edge of something, something he was not afraid to jump into and also couldn’t stop himself from wanting, hoping you wished the same, even if he was too crazy or delusional to consider that possibility. 

Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt light raindrops hitting the spot where the two of you were standing and sitting on the balcony. The first few drops were light, barely noticeable against his skin, but within seconds, the drizzle grew heavier, the scent of rain taking over the air. 

Chan watched you look up, your eyes tracing the sky as it darkened, the city below shimmering through the mist. When you turned back to him, he was staring at you—not at the rain, not at the sky, but at you. You met his gaze, and for a split second, everything else faded; the sound of the rain, the distant hum of the city below, even the pounding of his own heart. 

He blinked, breaking the spell, his gaze flickering toward the rain before it returned to you. “Maybe we should go inside,” he suggested, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he was giving you an escape from the moment, if you needed it.

You nodded slowly, and without saying a word, you jumped off the balcony railing, following him inside. You looked around the dark room for a second, before saying, “Maybe I should go. I don't want to hold the party host down with me.”

Chan turned to face you, his expression softening as he took in your words. There was something about the way you spoke, the hesitation that lingered in your voice, that made him want to step closer, to reassure you that you weren’t an inconvenience, that he wanted you there more than anything. 

“You’re not holding anyone down,” he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “If anything, it’s me who should be worried about keeping you from having fun.” 

“Never,” you said, your voice light, but there was something else in it, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Especially when you said, “Besides, the person I wanted to kiss isn't even downstairs.”

Chan froze, his heart giving a sharp, involuntary lurch at your words. He blinked, not quite sure if he had heard you correctly, but the way your gaze held his, steady and unflinching, told him that he hadn’t misheard.

He cleared his throat, his voice coming out a little too thick for his liking. “Oh? And, uh… who exactly were you hoping to kiss, if not...?” He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence, not sure if he even wanted to know the answer.

As the curtain moved in the wind, bringing the streetlight into the room, he saw a mischievous smile grow on your lips. 

What the hell was happening? Was his brain betraying him? Was he imagining this moment? Had he passed out on the bed when he went upstairs and was now in a dream, after spending ninety percent of his energy thinking about you at the party he should have been enjoying with his friends? 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said simply, and turned your back to him, eyes immediately darting to the shelf of his trophies from dance competitions and photographs. 

Yes, I do! I want to know! Chan wanted to shout.

Instead, he stood there for a moment, unsure whether to follow up with another question, or to let the silence stretch on. The way you spoke, so casually and yet with that playful glint in your eye, made everything feel… electric. 

So he simply watched you there, in his room, moving without hesitation, slowly walking over to his shelf, running your finger along the wood and observing each one of his trophies, medals and pictures with meticulous care. 

He couldn't help but think—and wish too—that he could get used to this scene.

The golden plaques gleamed under the dim light, each one marking a victory of his. Some were polished to perfection, while others bore the faintest scratches, proof of the years Chan had spent chasing dreams in the dance field. Your gaze drifted to the framed photographs beside them, each snapshot telling a different story of his life. 

There were several photos of him as a little kid, beaming as ever, dressed in performance clothes, on stage, with a medal around his neck. In another, he stood beside his previous performance unit with the frat’s past members, whom you recognized as Kwon Soonyoung, Wen Junhui, and Xu Minghao, their grins wide and carefree. There were also photos with his parents and grandmother, and some with what looked like his younger brother.

Chan was probably the cutest kid you had ever seen, and that realization made you smile genuinely. 

“Lee Jung Chan?” you asked, curious as you read the name on one of the trophies from a children's dance competition. Your fingers brushed over the small golden plaque, the engraving slightly worn from time. 

Behind you, he let out a soft chuckle. “It's my name on my family tree. The government name is just Lee Chan.”

“You went by your full name back then?”

He shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Only because my mom insisted. She said it sounded more professional, like I was already a star or something.”

“It's cute,” you said, looking at him over your shoulder. “You were so cute.”

“Yes, well, the kids used to call me Jimmy Neutron.”

You laughed, turning fully to face him. Neither of you had noticed how close you were until you did. If you reached out your arms, you'd only be able to touch each other slightly. But even though both of you thought about it, neither of you made any move to change your positions, continuing your conversation. 

“What? Jimmy Neutron?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair as if reliving the embarrassment. “Yeah. They said my head was too big for my body. And, you know, the spiky hair didn't help.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh. Chan holded his breath at your movement, forcing himself to look elsewhere, forcing himself not to think about your lips. 

“I can totally see it now,” you teased, releasing your lip from your teeth and looking between him and the photo on the shelf.

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Wow, okay. I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“I am!” You held up your hands in defense. “I just think it's adorable. And look at you now. You certainly grew into it perfectly.”

Chan smirked, tilting his head and crossing his arms. “So you're saying I look perfect now?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophies. “Don't get ahead of yourself, Jimmy Neutron.”

He laughed, stepping up beside you as his eyes skimmed over the shelf briefly, before turning back to you. “Yeah, but I kinda see it. My head was huge.”

You tilted your head, studying one of the photos of him mid-dance, his tiny frame caught in motion. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and black fingerless gloves, hair is slightly messy and spiky, adding to the fun and carefree to his edgy look. His bright smile revealed a gap between his teeth, and you thought to yourself that you've probably never seen anything so lovely before.

“Well, I think you were adorable,” you murmured, your finger tracing the edge of the frame. “And talented, obviously. All these trophies…”

He shrugged, a little bashful. “My grandmother was really proud of them. She used to polish them every weekend.”

Your smile softened. “She sounds sweet.”

“She is,” he said, voice tinged with fondness. “She used to call me ‘our little star.’”

Something about the way he said it made warmth bloom in your chest. You turned toward him, and he was looking at you again, his expression unreadable but intense. The soft glow of the streetlights made his features sharper, casting shadows along his well-defined jawline.

If there was one thing you knew about Lee Chan, it was that he was a star. Every performance he was part of filled the university theater, without failure. Not to mention the countless admirers he had on campus, and with good reason.

Watching him do what he loved was a pleasure—he was that good. Confident and unwavering, he dominated the stage effortlessly, as if wrapped in a bubble no one could pierce. It was mesmerizing to witness.

“You still are, you know,” you said, voice quieter now. “A star.”

His lips parted slightly, but for a moment, he didn't say anything. Just studied you like he was trying to figure something out.

And then, with a small, almost shy smile, he said, “I like it better when you call me cute.”

You laughed, the sudden tension between you easing just a little. “Noted.”

He exhaled a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the desk beside the shelf. “You know, I don’t usually let people snoop around my room like this.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder again, your fingers still lightly tracing over the edge of a picture framed. “Oh? Am I special, Channie?”

You didn't have to say his name like that, or move your lips like that. His eyes traveled to your mouth for a moment, and for a second, something flickered in his expression, something unspoken, but not entirely hidden. 

His eyes met yours as he said, “Yeah,” he murmured. “You are.”

To mask the fact that your breath hitched slightly, you offered him a playful smirk. “Good to know.”

As Chan moved to sit on the edge of his bed, you continued your exploration of his shelf, eyes stopping at a picture frame in the middle where he standed between what seemed to be his parents, both of them kissing his cheek sweetly. 

“Is your father a dancer too?” you asked, running your fingers over his face on the picture. 

“Yeah. My dad and my mom,” he explained. “They kind of stopped after I was born.”

“Wow. It’s in your blood, then.”

Chan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. My dad always says I got his footwork, but my mom says I got her rhythm.”

You leaned against the table by the shelf, watching him as he spoke. “So they gave it up for you?” 

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. My dad started teaching instead, and my mom focused on raising me. They never made me feel like I took anything away from them, though.”

“That’s love.”

He looked at you then, his gaze steady. “Yeah, it is.”

Another comfortable silence settled between you as you turned back to the photos, your fingers absently tracing the edges of the other frames. One photo in particular caught your eye. It was from the exact same day you first noticed him, during the university’s annual arts week in your sophomore year.

He was dressed in a white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, black dress pants, and his hair dyed a faded dark blue. You knew he had worn a tie too because he had taken it off during the performance.

Out of the four members in the unit, he immediately stood out to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but it was as if no one else existed on that stage besides him. Your eyes were locked on him and no one else, watching in awe as he moved across the stage, completely captivated.

“I was there that day, you know?” you said, showing him over the shoulder the photo you were referring to. 

Chan’s eyes widened as he stared at it. It was one of the images from his first big performance at the university’s annual arts week back in his freshman year, a moment that had felt like a turning point for him, when everything had clicked. He hadn’t realized anyone had been paying attention back then, least of all you.

“You were?” His voice held a note of surprise. There was something so disarming about the way you were looking at the photo—and then at him.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze before turning back. “Yeah. I was in the back, by the side stage,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You were… mesmerizing.” 

He felt a warmth spread through him at your words, the kind of warmth that made his chest tighten. Chan hadn’t expected to hear something like that, especially not from you. 

“Really?” He couldn’t hide the shock in his voice. His brows lifted slightly, as if he was trying to picture it. “How come I didn't see you?”

“I don’t think you noticed anyone that night,” you teased. “You were in your own world up there.”

He hummed, eyes flickering back to the photo. “Maybe,” he mused, then glanced at you again, a slow smile crept onto his lips. “So, you’ve been watching me all this time, noona?”

There was a teasing edge to his voice and you exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“No?” He titled his head. “Then how would you put it?”

He saw you hesitate for a second, fingers still resting on the shelf. Then, meeting his eyes, you admitted, “I noticed you. That night, and every time after that.”

Chan felt his breath catch in his throat.

There was something about the way you said it—so simple, so honest—that made his heart stutter. You noticed him. Not just that night, but every time after. 

He had spent years analyzing every interaction you two had ever had—every glance, every small word, every time you did so much as acknowledged his existence. And now? Now you were standing here, saying things that made his heart race like it was the easiest thing to do. 

How did you end up here?

Chan felt lightheaded.

He wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t rare for him to be speechless around you, so there he was again, standing in front of you, feeling like the floor beneath him wasn’t quite solid anymore.

“You noticed me,” he echoed, more to himself than to you.

You nodded, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of the photo before you finally pulled your hand away. “Yeah,” you murmured, laughing softly. “I did, Channie.”

Chan swallowed. He wanted to ask why. What was it about him that had caught your attention? Was it his performance? His presence? Something else entirely different? 

But instead, he found himself saying, “I wish I’d noticed you in the crowd.”

Your lips parted slightly, but instead of speaking, you simply smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

His fingers twitched at his sides. God, he wished he could go back in time to that night—to scan every face in the crowd, to find you standing by the side stage, watching him with that same look you had now. You weren’t even dating Jongin at the time, and if your words were any indication of what he was imagining, maybe he had missed an opportunity by acting as though you were unattainable. Maybe he had lost precious time. 

Chan watched as moved away from the shelf, turning to him entirely. His breath hitched slightly as you stepped closer, each movement deliberate, unhurried. You didn’t hesitate as you sank down beside him on the bed, the space between you shrinking just enough to make his pulse quicken. 

The room suddenly felt smaller, quieter, like the world outside had dulled, leaving only the two of you in this charged silence.

He forced himself to breathe, to act natural, even as every fiber of his being buzzed with awareness of your presence beside him. You were close enough that he could catch the faintest trace of the sweetness of your perfume again, something that made his head spin in the best way.

“Can I ask you something?” You sank your hands on the mattress and stared at the wall in front of you, like you were avoiding his gaze for some reason. 

“Mhmm.”

You wet your lips, hesitating for a moment before finally voicing the thought that had lingered in your mind all night. “Were you avoiding me tonight?”

Chan felt his heart slam against his ribs. “I wasn’t—” he started, then stopped himself because, well… yeah, he had been avoiding you. But only because every time he looked at you, he felt like his brain melted, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to not make a fool of himself.

You smirked, clearly amused by his silence. “That’s what I thought.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t avoiding you, I just—” He hesitated, his eyes flickering over to you. Halfway through, Chan decided that it was no longer the time to second guess things, so he simply admitted, “You make me very nervous, noona.”

You wished you had an explanation for the way you shivered slightly when he called you noona. But instead, you chose to ignore the feeling, letting the sensation fade into something softer, something more curious. “I make you nervous?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly. “That’s a first.”

Chan huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You say that like it’s impossible. I bet–I know I’m not the only one.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… you’ve always seemed so confident. Especially on stage.”

“That is just an act,” he admitted. “On stage, I could pretend to be someone else for a little while. But you?” He turned to you then, meeting your gaze fully. “You’re real. You’re right here.”

And he still couldn’t believe it, the words leaving his lips as if he were pinching himself to prove that this was really happening and not just a fever dream.

Hearing him, you wondered what Chan would think if he knew the way your stomach flipped at the way he was looking at you, like you were something impossible and undeniable all at once. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to say something so… vulnerable. Something that made your heart race so fast with all the implications of his words. 

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous, Channie” you said, your voice softer now, more careful.

“I don’t think you can help it,” Chan murmured, letting out a breathless chuckle. “You know, you probably didn’t know this, but I had a, um… a crush on you.”

Okay, he knew he was straying from the truth. But there was a limit to his courage, and even though he had sensed a bit of flirting between you, he wasn’t about to risk rejection after the nice conversation you’d had tonight, because maybe he was just imagining things. 

And he wanted you to walk away from here at least as friends rather than leave an awkward situation for the two of you. He’d rather have you like this than not have you at all. That was why he decided to test the waters with that small lie.

Your lips parted slightly at his confession, your mind racing to process what he had just admitted. “You… had a crush on me?” you repeated, almost like you were trying to make sure you'd heard him right.

Chan nodded, his expression somewhere between amused and nervous. “Yeah. A major one,” he said, his voice lighter, trying to sound nonchalant.

Something inside you fluttered at the thought. You hadn't expected this at all—not from him, not tonight. And definitely not in this way.

“You’re bullshiting me, aren’t you?” you accused, narrowing your eyes playfully.

He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Nope. Dead serious.”

“But you never said anything,” you pointed out.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested,” He shrugged. Then he nudged you with his elbow, playfully. “Plus you had a boyfriend.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned into silence. 

Didn’t think you’d be interested?

It was absurd to hear those words coming from him, the same person who had commanded every room he walked into without even trying, the same person who had owned the stage so effortlessly that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

What would he say if you opened your mouth to confess that you’d realized you weren’t happy in your old relationship the moment you started noticing him everywhere? Noticing his smile, the way he blushed when you talked to him, the way he seemed so unreachable, like he wasn’t the least bit interested in getting to know you, always running away when you were around. 

Maybe that should’ve been your first clue that he had a crush on you too. But perhaps you were too caught up in your own melancholia to notice.

So, instead of spilling out, you decided to test something. It was now or never.

“Is it just in the past?” 

Chan’s brows lifted slightly, caught off guard by your question. “What?”

“Your crush.”

“Uhh..”

“Because it would be so sad if it was,” you said before you could stop yourself, eyes searching for his. 

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Really?”

You let out a quiet breath, shaking your head with a small smile. “Mhmm.”

He swallowed hard, his brain short-circuiting again at your response. Of all the ways this conversation could have gone, this was not what he had expected. Maybe he was in a dream. A very lived one, but still, a dream.

“You—” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like he had forgotten how to speak. “You think it would be sad?”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah. I think it would be a shame if something like that just… faded away.”

Chan's heart was doing something ridiculous in his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was panic or hope or a chaotic mix of both. He should say something. He should joke about it, keep it light, make sure this moment didn’t carry more weight than it should. But he couldn’t—because the way you were looking at him right now felt dangerous in the best way.

“Would it?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your smile again, nodding. 

He let out a breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really know how to mess with a guy’s head, huh?”

“Maybe,” You grinned, leaning in just a little. “But only when it’s fun. Besides who says you’re not messing with mine too?”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

You didn't say anything else and Chan stared at you for a long moment, his mind racing with a million things he wanted to say, a million things he wanted to do. But instead, he smiled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were real. That this moment was real. 

He was messing with your head? Well, that’s a first. 

“Noted,” he simply murmured.

“What about now?” You looked at him expectantly, not letting silence settle between you.

Chan inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. “Now?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded once more. Chan’s smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second before he recovered. “Are you asking if I still have a crush on you, noona?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the way your heart had started hammering. “Forget it,” you muttered, getting up from the bed. 

He reached out, closing his hand around your wrist, and gently pulled you back to sit on the bed again. For a second, it felt like the world had stopped moving. It all faded into nothing. It was just you and him, standing there in this charged, uncertain space that he used to call his bedroom.

Chan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. His instinct was to deflect, to joke, to brush it off like it was nothing. To play nonchalant. But the way you were looking at him—with quiet anticipation, with something that felt dangerously like hope—made it impossible to lie.

And before you could escape the moment, Chan leaned in ever so slightly, just enough that you felt the warmth of him beside you. “For the record,” he started, voice lower now, just for you. “Some things don’t change that easily.”

You turned to look at him, and for the first time that night, you weren’t sure who was more nervous: you or him. You held his gaze for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile curled at the corners of your lips.

“Good.” 

Chan blinked. You were going to give him a whiplash. “Good?”

You nodded, shifting just a little closer, the space between you growing impossibly small. “Like I said: it would be really sad if it had faded away.”

A few seconds passed, he just stared at you, his heart pounding, his pulse roaring in his ears. He could barely think, could barely breathe.

“Are you messing with me?” he asked, a nervous chuckle slipping out.

You tilted your head, eyes glinting with something warm, something teasing. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he said slowly, “you’re trouble.”

You grinned. “Only when it's fun, remember?”

“Noted,” he replied again, huffing a quiet laugh and shaking his head. But this time, there was something different in his voice, something lighter, something hopeful. 

You bit your lip for a second, analyzing him carefully. For the first time, Chan didn’t feel intimidated by your gaze. He didn’t feel exposed. Quite the opposite, his skin felt like it was on fire, but for a very good reason.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips for a fraction of a second. If he hadn’t been watching you so closely, he would’ve missed it.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

You were too close. Or maybe not close enough.

“Chan.”

“Yes, noona?”

“Do you wanna kiss me?”

He felt every neuron in his brain misfire at once, completely abandoning him at the worst possible moment.

Did he hear you right?

Did you—did you really just ask him that?

But the way you were looking at him—head bent to the side, eyes locked onto his with quiet amusement—made it clear that he hadn’t.

His fingers twitched against his knee, his pulse hammering in his ears so hard he was sure you could hear it. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, because suddenly, every single response he could think of felt either too much or not enough.

He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, the way your gaze never left his, searching, waiting.

“Uh…” He cleared his throat, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “I—um—”

“Because you keep looking at me like you do,” you continued, your voice softer now. “And if you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I just thought I’d ask.”

Chan let out a shaky breath. He was absolutely, utterly doomed.

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Noona, you can’t just ask me that.”

“Why not?” You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to make his pulse go haywire. 

Chan let out another nervous laugh, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You grinned. “Is that a yes or a no?”

You were still watching him, waiting, and damn it if he didn’t want to kiss you more than anything. He always had. But now? With you looking at him like that, teasing, testing, daring him? It was like he was malfunctioning. 

Yeah, he was probably overthinking this—scratch that, he was definitely overthinking this—but the truth was, this wasn’t just some random moment to him, with a random person. It was you. And you weren’t just anybody to him. 

He didn’t want to screw this up.

But at the same time…

God, he wanted to kiss you. More than he would like to see the sun rise again. 

So, he took a breath, gathering every ounce of courage he had left, and finally, finally, he answered.

“Yes,” he admitted, voice quiet but steady. “I really, really want to kiss you.”

Your smile turned softer, less teasing now. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His heart pounded as he closed the space between you, his hesitation melting away the second his lips brushed against yours. The moment was slow, tentative at first, like he was memorizing the feel of you, engraving it to his memory in case he never got the chance to do it again. But when you responded to him, when your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in just a little closer, something inside him snapped. 

Chan exhaled sharply against your lips before deepening the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he tilted his head, molding himself to you like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life, and not just two years of it. 

If the party outside still carried on, now it felt distant, muted. The only thing that existed in this moment was your lips and the way they mold together, the way your fingers slid up into his hair, the soft sound you made when he nipped at your bottom lip.

Chan was dizzy. Overwhelmed. 

And completely, absolutely ruined for anyone else. 

Your fingers dung into his tight, searching for support, and you felt him groan against your lips. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a reaction deep within you. His hand slipped from the back of your neck into your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he tilted your head to the side—and that was it. You were lost too.

When a soft gasp left your lips at the feeling of him pulling your hair slightly, Chan saw the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips, teasingly, deliberately, claiming the space with an intoxicating slowness. They way kissed you left you breathless, lightheaded, as if he’d stolen the very air from your lungs. 

Your knees bumped against his as you tried to move closer, and instead of pulling away, Chan only tightened his grip on you, his arm slipping from your hair to your waist. In one smooth motion, he guided you into his lap, pulling you over his legs until you were straddling him. A surprised giggle bubbled from your lips at the sudden shift, but he didn’t falter—if anything, the sound only seemed to spur him on. His hands settled firmly on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if committing your shape to his memory.

One kiss bled into the next, and then another, and another, until the only force pulling you apart was the desperate need for air. Your forehead rested against his for a fleeting moment, both of you panting, neither willing to let go.

Then, with a boldness that sent heat surging through you, you leaned in, taking his bottom lip between yours, sucking gently as your hips rolled forward in an instinctive motion. A groan tore from both of you at the same time at the feeling of you core meeting his half hardened cock for the first time. 

Chan’s head tipped back, his throat exposed to you, a silent invitation too tempting to ignore. You pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below his perfect jaw, feeling the way his pulse leapt beneath your lips. His hands traveled slowly and torturously from your hops to your thighs, hovering just above the hem of your skirt, while you traced your tongue over the skin of his neck, giving it a playful nip with your teeth.

His breath hitched at the feeling, gripping on your tights for dear life as his heart raced like crazy. The fire in his veins was undeniable, every inch of him consumed by the heat of the moment, consumed by you. Your touch, the way your lips moved, was driving him to the edge of something he wasn’t sure he could come back from. 

As Chan looked at you, his eyes begging to close in pleasure, he was sure his pupils were dilated at the scene before him: you looked like a goddess on top of him.  

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he said, voice was low, a rasp of desire that sent a thrill racing through you. 

Your response to his words was to rock your hips against his, feeling the full hardness now pressing your folds through his pants and listening to him whine, breathy and desperate. At the sound of it, you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his neck, sucking to ensure you left a mark, to ensure everyone saw what you had done to him. 

Chan’s breath came in sharp, uneven, his body shuddering beneath you as your lips lingered over the mark you’d left on his skin. His hands tightened around your tights, fingers twitching like he was resisting the urge to take things further, to let his restraint unravel completely.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his head tilting forward until his forehead rested against yours, his eyes squeezed shut. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His voice was raw, thick with desire, and it sent a pulse of heat through you.

You hummed against him, dragging your lips up toward his ear, reveling in the way he shivered beneath you. “What do you want, Channie?” you teased, nipping at his earlobe.

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingertips tracing along the defined ridges of his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, his hands now gripping your thighs like they were the only things keeping him grounded, like he was afraid you’d slip away. 

His eyes fluttered open, dark and desperate as they locked onto yours. 

“You,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I just want you.”

The raw honesty in his words sent another shiver down your spine. Your fingers splayed over his abdomen, feeling the way his stomach tensed beneath your touch, the way his breathing hitched with every slow, deliberate movement of your hands.

“Then take me, baby” you murmured, your lips brushing against his jaw, the ghost of a challenge in your voice.

Chan groaned, his hands sliding up from your thighs, gripping your waist with a reverence that made your pulse stutter. His thumbs traced slow, teasing circles against your skin, his restraint evident in the way his fingers flexed but didn’t pull you closer.

“You’re really trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You smirked, tilting your head just slightly, an exhalation away from his mouth. “What gave it away?”

He exhaled sharply, his patience snapping like a thread. One moment, you were teasing him, savoring the slow burn, and the next, he was kissing you like he’d been starving for you his entire life. His lips crashed against yours, desperate, all-consuming, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

The heat between you flared, intoxicating and undeniable. Your fingers slid up his chest, tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low, breathy moan from his lips. The sound sent a thrill through you, your body pressing closer, chasing the feeling of him, the warmth of him, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that existed.

His hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your shirt, his touch searing against the bare skin of your inner thighs. He wasn’t rushing—no, he was savoring, mapping out every inch of you like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to remember this, just in case he never got the chance to do it again.

Your hips rolled instinctively, pressing down against him, and Chan groaned into your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin. “Fuck,” he breathed, his head falling back as he sucked in a sharp breath.

You leaned in, pressing another set of kisses to the column of his throat. “Too much?” you teased, your voice sultry, full of mischief.

Chan’s jaw clenched as he let out a breathless chuckle. “Not even close.”

His hands roamed higher up your thighs, and the moment his index finger traced a slow line over the fabric of your already-soaked panties, a moan slipped from your lips into his. He grunted something unintelligible as he tugged your panties to the side, his fingers finally feeling how wet you were beneath them. Then, he dragged his touch torturously up to your stomach before slipping inside the lace, and you instinctively lifted your hips, giving him better access to where you needed him most.

“Are you this wet for me, noona?” he asked, pulling back to meet your gaze. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, while his thumb circled your most sensitive spot and you cried out. “Is this all because of me?”

You nodded desperately, almost missing the disbelief in his eyes that only fueled the intensity between you. It heighted every touch, made you move in sync with him, your teeth sinking into your lip as he worked you over with deliberate precision, taking his time to drive you absolutely crazy with his fingers moving into and out of you. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says with certainty, eyes darkened with something you’ve never seen before, but you love it. The sheer existence of it sends a whimper tumbling from your lips. 

Still, you can't help but think about his safety.

“Are you sure” you asked, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

Both of his hands returned to your thighs, slowly trailing up to your ass beneath your skirt. 

“Never been more sure in my entire life. Please” 

“Fuck. Okay.”

You get off him for a moment, quickly slipping off your boots as you step out of the bed. You pull off your skirt and panties, while Chan gets up to remove his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. Then he returns to the bed, sitting comfortably and leaning back on his elbows, his gaze never leaving you. His eyes burn with desire as he watches you slowly take off his hoodie before taking your sweet time freeing your breasts from the tight black corset—on purpose.

When your breasts finally spill free, his mouth parts slightly, eyes locked onto your hardened nipples as if it were one of the seven wonders of the world. 

“Come here, baby.”

You slowly crawl across the bed toward where he’s lying close to the headboard, and Chan helps you position yourself on top of him. Each of your thighs settles on either side of his head as you both adjust, ensuring the position is comfortable for both of you.

“You have the prettiest pussy,” he whispered against your pussy, followed by a groan, and you feel his breath hit your entrance, making you tremble slightly.

You knew that you’re so fucking wet that even in the dim light of the room, you’re sure he could see your folds glistening. But instead of feeling embarrassed, a thrill runned through your body when you glanced down and saw Chan licking his lips, his eyes locked onto your core just inches from his face. He stared at you like you’re the last and most delicious meal he's ever going to have in his life. 

“You smell delicious, noona,” The way he speaks makes you moan softly, your hands instinctively moving to squeeze your breasts. “Bet you taste even better.”

Chan gripped the back of your thighs, pulling you closer until your heat is right in front of his face, his eyes drinking in the sight. His lips find your inner thigh first, sucking a mark into your soft skin, slow and deliberate. 

When he finally placed his lips exactly where you needed him, your hands flew straight to grip his hair, holding tightly between your fingers as your legs trembled from the indescribable sensation of his mouth on you. Still, Chan sensed that you were trying to hold back, worried about hurting him, so as soon as you shifted just an inch away from his face, he pushed you back down, holding you tight against him. 

The gasp that left your lips is a sound you’ve never done before, completely immersed in the pleasure he is giving you. His nose nudges against your clit, his tongue gathering your arousal before his mouth moves over you with deliberate hunger, like a man who has been starving for far too long.

“So good, Channie,” you cried out, body almost falling forward. “Holy fuck!”

The way Chan’s mouth moves on you is pure, unrestrained hunger, and it feels so good that, only for a moment, you entertain your brain with the idea that his mouth was made to exactly what he was doing: eating your pussy. His lips cup your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud with slow strokes, alternating with long, deep sucks that make you shiver around him. 

His tongue circles your entrance, sliding in as more of you slick spills into his mouth, all for him to savor. The taste of you—god, he never wants this to end. All day, every day, Chan is sure he could do this for the rest of his fucking life. All he wants is to drown himself in this, inside the wet dream that is you with your pussy right in his face.

Your hands pulled his hair tightly after one particularly harsh suck on your clit, back arching deliciously. Your moans was the only sound filling the room and Chan was pretty fucking sure this is the soundtrack of paradise and he can’t wait to get there. 

When his hands moved to your ass, squeezing tightly, it was as if the last shred of self-control in his body had evaporated. You started to rock your hips instinctively, grinding against his face desperately to chase your release while his nose offered you the most earth-shattering sessions. 

“Oh my god, Chan,” you choke out, closing your eyes shut. 

“Hmm.” His hum sended vibrations through your core and suddenly you had to use his shoulders for balance or you would fall forward on the bed. 

Chan was certain he had died and gone to heaven the moment you started grinding against his face. He could feel your legs tense around his head, and when he opened his eyes to take in the scene above him—hands traveling up your body until they reached your breasts, squeezing them tightly—the way your face crumpled and the sounds escaping your parted lips, Chan knew he was in love.

He was done. Gone. 

There was no one else for him in this world. 

Only you.

You.

You.

You. 

You bucked your hips against his face with more urgency as his thumbs rolled over your nipples in the most delicious way. His other hand found your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing lightly, and your head fell back, granting him free access to do whatever he wanted with you. At that moment, the familiar, intoxicating tingling built in the pit of your stomach, moans and sighs spilling from your lips more desperately and loud as you tightened your legs around his head.

“Hmm, suffocate me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick and low. 

That was all it took for your orgasm to crash over you in the most intense way, your mind bubbling with euphoria, completely lost in a haze of pleasure.

Chan licked and sucked up every last drop, swallowing your release in loud gulps as if it were the only thing capable of keeping him hydrated. As you let go of his shoulders and collapsed onto the bed beside him, your legs, weak as jelly, trembled uncontrollably, matching the shivers that ran through the rest of your body.

When you looked at him, you saw the dazed, blissed-out expression on his face mirroring your fucked out one, like he were the one who had just come. His red lips were parted, his chin glistening, and you couldn't resist the dopey smile on his face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, tasting yourself on him. With a strength you didn’t even know you had, especially right now, you pulled him on top of you, parting your legs so he could fit there.

Chan barely had time to register the movement before letting out a small chuckle. He broke the kiss for a second, brushing your hair from your face to meet your eyes, your pupils blown wide with a desire that was reflecting his own.

He could only be dreaming.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your lips.

Normally, words like that spoken so close would make you shy. But right now, you could feel his hard length pressing against your inner thigh through the fabric of his pants—aching, neglected, and probably leaking.

Your hands traveled from his chest to his pants and you fumbled with his belt, struggling for a moment until your fingers remembered how to work. You unfastened his zipper, hands moving with growing urgency each passing seconds. As you pushed his pants down, your fingers traced the firm and defined lines of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his hips, and the soft hair on the back of his thighs.

The moment you managed to free him from his underwear, Chan’s cock rested on your hip, hard and thick. He groaned at the feeling of your skin against him and and you arched into him, desperate to feel more—to press him even more against you, to take him in.

“Wanna ride you, Channie,” you told him, leaning forward to kiss him again. You reached between you, wrapping your fingers around his cock, feeling him thick and burning hot against your palm. 

Chan let out a shaky breath at your words, his grip on your waist tightening instinctively. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes flickering between yours and your parted lips, as if trying to ground himself, trying to believe that this was actually his reality and not just another figment of his imagination.

“You don’t have to feel obligated, baby.”

“I want it,” You batted your pretty eyelashes at him, and he was lost. “Please.” 

“Okay, noona.”

Your fingers brushed over his jaw, tilting his face up to meet your lips in another deep, searing kiss. Every part of you was incredibly drawn to him, turned on by him, the heat between you almost unbearable now. Slowly, deliberately, you rocked your hips forward, savoring the way his breath stuttered against your lips. 

“You're driving me insane,” he groaned, his hands tightening their hold on you. 

You smiled, feeling the way his pulse raced beneath your lips. “Good. Now lay back for me, baby.”

Chan didn't argue. He shifted slightly, scooting back and patting his tights in invitation for you to hover over his cock. The dim light cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the curve of your back and the way your hair fell around your shoulders. He watched you, his breath catching in his throat as you met his gaze. He lay back and propped himself up on his elbows again, anticipation thrumming through his veins.

You moved with a slow, deliberate grace, straddling him once again, your bare pussy covering his length. The feeling of his cock against your lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you also felt him trembling a little beneath you. 

You paused, savoring his gaze locked on you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. Smiling down at him, you slid your pussy against his cock, feeling his head rub on your clit. A simultaneous moan escaped from both of you. The next second, his lips were on your breasts, sucking and squeezing the flesh with both hands, clearly impressed by how responsive and sensitive you were to his touch.

After a particularly harsh suck, he released your nipple with an audible pop, the sound echoing in the still-charged air. A smile spread across his face as he watched the flush recede from your skin, leaving a rosy imprint in its wake. 

“Beautiful.” He licked your nipple one more time, gaze locked on yours, as he said,“There's a condom on the nightstand.”

He didn't move, didn't break eye contact, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. 

“Don't you wanna take me raw, Channie?” you pouted, sliding forward again. “I'm on birth control, and I'm clean.”

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working as he fought for control. Your words, so casually spoken, were a potent aphrodisiac, fueling the fire that already burned within him. The feel of you against him, the heat radiating from your core, was intoxicating, clouding his judgment, making it hard to think straight.

The thought of skin on skin, of being completely, utterly connected to you, was a temptation he wasn't sure he could resist. His gaze drifted up to your lips, then lower, tracing the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, the way your hips moved against his. He could feel himself hardening even more, his body betraying his attempts at restraint. 

“Fuck, noona,” He breathed. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“So?” you purred, meeting his gaze. 

“I’m clean too. Put it in. Please.” The words were a raw plea, a confession of his surrender. 

Then, with another soft moan, you took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance, before lowering yourself onto him, the fit perfect, as if you were made for each other.

Chan groaned as you took his full length in, his hands instinctively reaching for your waist, holding you tight against him. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening with passion, while you pushed him just a little to lay down so you could use his chest for support. 

“Fuck,” he cursed out, griping your sides. “You feel so good.”

You began to move, slowly at first, teasing him with each gentle sway of your hips. The rhythm between you built, a slow, sensual dance that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your bodies. Chan's hands tightened on your waist, guiding you, encouraging you, as he moaned softly, his head falling back against the pillows.

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned, voice rough. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” He arched his back, pushing himself further into you. His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he urged you on. “Don't stop. Please, don't stop.”

Another slow smile spread across your face. The power you held over him was intoxicating to you, maybe even a little dangerous to your ego. You leaned down, brushing your lips against his. “I wasn't planning on it.”

You increased the tempo, your hips moving with a newfound urgency of driving him to the edge. The rhythm between you intensified, a primal dance of pleasure and need.  

You knew you were already close, that the precipice of orgasm was just within reach. The feeling was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely. Chan's eyes fluttered closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could feel the tension building within him, the pressure mounting with each thrust.  

You continued to move, faster now, your bodies locked together in a frenzy of desire. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of him inside you, the heat, the overwhelming pleasure. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the fire that burned between you.

A low moan escaped your lips as he pressed against you, his fingers tracing tight circles around your most sensitive spot. 

“Fuck, Chan,” you screamed, your head falling back, eyes closing as the pressure began to feel exquisite.

He peppered kisses across your chest and neck, his touch alternating between quick pinches and slow, tantalizing rolls of his thumb against your clit. Without warning, his hips surged upwards, driving him deeper inside you. You cried out his name again, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That's it, baby,” he commanded, “scream my name.”

One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you against him, while the other braced him against the mattress. He began to thrust into you, a relentless rhythm that belied the fact that you were supposed to be the one in control. But neither of you cared. His cock felt so incredibly good inside you, your pussy clenching around him in a tight embrace.

“Chan!” you cried, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.  

The head of his cock found that sweet spot deep within you, and he immediately noticed your reaction, repeating the movement, again and again, until stars began to burst behind your closed eyelids.

The more Chan rhythmically rubbed your clit, the more you felt yourself tightening around him, your release imminent. His breath hitched as you reached your peak, your body shuddering with release. He cried out your name, his own release following close behind as spilled himself inside you. You collapsed against him, your bodies still trembling, your hearts pounding in unison. 

The world dissolved around you, the only thing that existed was the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible, lost in a sea of pure, unadulterated pleasure. His arms wrapped around you comfortingly, as if he were afraid you'd run away, and you buried your face in his neck, trying to regulate your breathing and savoring the aftershocks, the incredible feeling of your skin melded together. 

Still inside you, Chan almost couldn't believe it at this moment. The reality of you, of this, was almost too much to comprehend. He felt the warmth of you surrounding him, the gentle pulse of your muscles contracting around him, a constant reminder of the incredible intimacy you shared. He looked down at you, your face flushed and relaxed, your eyes closed in contentment. 

He traced the curve of your cheek with his thumb, marveling at the softness of your skin. It was real. You were real. And you were here, with him, wrapped in the aftermath of a moment that had left both of you breathless.

Chan wanted to stay like this forever, locked in this perfect intimacy, lost in the wonder of you. And he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that he would do anything to keep it. 

He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, before confessing, “I wanted this for so long.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you met his eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Mmm," you hummed, snuggling closer to him. “Me too.” 

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and Chan blinked. “Really?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Certainly, he hadn't expected that. He thought he was the only one clinging to this moment, the only one so deeply affected by it, that he was certain he was thoroughly gone for anyone else. The fact that you felt the same way, that you’d wanted this just as much as he had, sent a fresh wave of warmth through him. 

You nodded, your smile widening. “Really, really,” you confirmed, fingers tracing the line of his beautiful jaw. “I've been wanting this...for longer than I care to admit.” 

He felt a blush creeping up his neck, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief swirling within him. 

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.  “I...I didn't think…”

“Didn't think what?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He hesitated, suddenly feeling shy again. “Didn't think you felt the same way. I thought...I thought I thought you were just a little bit out of my limit, I guess.”

Looking away for a moment, Chan suddenly felt fascinated by a stray thread on the sheet. Saying that out loud sounded ridiculous, he knew. Seungkwan and Vernon would probably laugh at him if they could hear him now. He was a grown ass man; a successful dancer, yet he felt like a nervous teenager confessing his feelings for the first time to the girl he had a silly little crush on. 

Except it was no longer silly for him anymore, and he was sure the feeling burning in his chest was much bigger than a crush. Love? He preferred to think about it after the effects of the afterglow had worn off.

His mind was filled with something else. For instance, the fact that, once, he'd been so sure you were out of his reach, so convinced that he was lucky just to be in your orbit. To know that you felt the same way, that you saw him as an equal, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You gently cupped his face in your hands, turning his gaze back to yours. “Out of your limit?” you echoed. “Channie, I’m so in your limit that is actually embarrassing. I’ve always been in your limit.”

He raised an eyebrow, another flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “Always?”

“From the moment I saw you on that stage, two years ago,” you confessed. “I saw something in you, something special. Something...that made me want to get to know you better.”

Chan chuckled, a self-deprecating sound. “And you weren't scared off by my…awkwardness around you?”

You laughed, a warm, genuine sound that filled the room. “Your awkwardness is part of your charm,” you teased. “Besides,” you added, leaning in to whisper against his lips, “I can be pretty awkward myself sometimes.”

He grinned, his earlier shyness melting away. “Is that so?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Absolutely. But you'll have to stick around to find out just how awkward I can be.”

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I think,” he said, his voice laced with affection. “I'm willing to take that risk.” Then he paused, a shadow crossing his face briefly. “Can I ask you something, tough?”

“Mhmm.”

“Jongin. Why… why did you date him?”

You sighed a hint of weariness in your eyes. You should have seen it coming.

“Honestly, Channie?” you began, “Because at the time, I didn't think you were interested too.” You met his gaze, your eyes filled with honesty. “Like I said earlier, he showed me the kind of attention I thought I needed. He was…persistent. And you,” you paused, choosing your words carefully, “you seemed…distant. You ran away whenever I tried to talk to you. At least now I know why.”

He winced slightly, recognizing the truth in your words. He'd been so afraid of rejection that he'd inadvertently pushed you away. “I…I was an idiot.” 

You smiled sadly. “We both were,” you shrugged. “But,” you added, a brighter note entering your voice, “we're not idiots anymore.” You leaned in, kissing him softly. “And now,” you gave him another peck, “I have exactly what I want.”

Chan cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “Me too.” He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For giving me a second chance.”

You pulled back slightly, searching for his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me, baby,” you said softly, with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “You just came inside me, I think you earned it.”

A slow grin spread across his face, a mixture of amusement and pure adoration. His eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Oh, is that how it works?” he teased, his eyes sparkling. “So, every time I…you know…” 

You laughed, playfully shoving him in the chest. 

“Don't get any ideas, Mr. Lee” you said, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed your words. “I'm a tough negotiator. You'll have to work a lot harder than that to earn my gratitude.”

“Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm a very hard worker. And, I'm more than happy to put in the overtime.”

“We'll see about that,” you whispered against his lips, though the smile playing on your face suggested you were more than willing to let him try. “You're incredible, Lee Chan. Don't ever forget that.”

He smiled, his heart overflowing with love. “I won't,” he promised. “Not anymore.” 

©sound-of-scoups

If you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer! ❤️

A/N: The next morning + Vernon and Seungkwan's reactions to finding out about them were in my plans for the story, but in the end, I thought this ending was perfect and decided not to include. If you'd like to read about it, please let me know here.

[smolvenger]

Reunion (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: The sacred timeline is destroyed. And your missing, mischievous lover has returned. A confrontation and a fear of abandonment and betrayal with his return still bring about the passion you have for each other.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut! Smut! 18+ (P in V sex, dirty talk, doing it in an office). Discussions of the fear of death, abandonment, and being cheated on- but don’t worry Loki is faithful to reader and would never. The Loki and Sylvie relationship is made platonic as it should have been all along for the sake of the fic. Not as super revised as usual but it's not a rough draft, I just wanted this out quickly while we had the first episode as our main focus.

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (smut starts at the line "Too long- Too long" and ends at "At once, he pulled himself up" for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @meowmeow-motherfucker @marvel-fanfic-lover @animnerd @twhiddlestufftuff

@goddessgirl143 @lunarnights95

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: With all the gifs out, I got the inspiration from the first episode. Wanted it out before the rest of the series makes me disappointed so I can go to delulu land again here. I hope you like it!

“OB! Better hurry up before your latte gets cold!” you called out. In your hand was a paper bag with the warm food and the other was a cup holder with the big cup of coffee. It’s a sweet smell just under your nostrils. 

It was a messy room with clutter on the floors and tables. They were all broken gadgets- more than you could name. All for that circular little room like OB’s circular little glasses. Well- it was understaffed. Only dear Ouroboros, or OB as everyone called him, fixed all that technology for the TVA. He was on the other end of the room piecing together a broken tempad. He then jumped around, grinned, and began to prance over to you from his main desk. The man was as happy as a squirrel it never occurred to him that he was lonely, overworked, and sleep-deprived. He insisted on working constantly without breaks- so you always thought he could use some caffeine and a bite to eat. 

“Oh! Y/N! Hello! Let me hurry over!” he chirruped.

 You set the bag and the cup on the desk before him, glad to see him so happy over your delivery.

“Here- it’s a large vanilla latte but I added two shots of espresso. I know you always pull all-nighters. And here- here’s your breakfast. I added a pastry in as well too. You could use the sugar rush.”

He peeked into the bag. He pulled out the food and began to unwrap it, his smile going up to his ears.

“Oh my gosh! A ham and egg on toast and a chocolate croissant!? My favorites! Oh- thank you, Y/N!” he said.

You smiled up at him, placing your hands on the desk.

“No problem- anything for the hardest worker here!” you responded.

He took a first sip, his eyes always bright. He let out a satisfied exhale from the delicious taste. Then he peeked over up at you, both hands on the warm cup.

“How are you, Y/N!? I don’t mean to pry but there’s this rumor I heard from B-15! Is it true? I heard you have a boyfriend! You never told me a word about thim-how is he?!”

It hit you like a kick in the ribs. You paused. Letting out a deep breath-suddenly the mood darkened. But, you could not pretend, even with OB, that you were worried about your lover. Your mischievous, divine lover. 

“OB, I know you’re not going to believe me. I know it’s kind of frowned upon- but it’s allowed. But my boyfriend he’s…he’s a Loki.”

“A Loki?” he repeated.

“Yes- The Loki. The one who tried to invade Loki- the one we all caught. I mean- he’s been here a while. I got to know him and…well, we fell for each other,” you explained. 

“Oh! Wow! Well-how does it work, an agent and a Loki?” he questioned.

“We- we find a way. I’ve just been-been worried about him. He had to go- go take care of something. You know the whole thing about timelines being messed with and the other Loki running around causing trouble? Something is up- something serious. He’s been gone for a bit- it’s been a few days. I haven’t heard anything directly from him. He could be dead by now. And there’s something else. The other thing is…is…”

You put a hand over your mouth, the gripping, biting urge to cry hitting you. But it was too strong. Your anxieties were a dam long contained and here they were out. OB set down his coffee to listen to you. Then you continued, the most private fear of yours confessed. 

“The Loki is a woman Loki. He’s with her to take care of this issue. That’s all I know. But it’s been a while- he’s still with her. And she’s powerful and strong and pretty and good at everything and perfect…. and how could I ever compete with her- and he’s-he’s already tossed me aside by now and left me for her by now and-”

Your voice cut off. You felt yourself about to cry. You squinted your eyes shut and looked down, putting your hand to your face-hot and tight. Finally, you lowered your head to the desk and began to cry.

“Oh- Y/N! It’s okay! There-there! You know even that kind of betrayal is low for a Loki! I don’t think most would even think of doing that- their trust is hard to earn! It will work out- shh, shh” he consoled, patting a hand on your back.

You returned up from the desk, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh- Y/N! Here- have some tissues!” OB offered. 

He got out a little plastic box from the corner of the desk. You pulled out one of the white tissues and wiped your eyes.

“Oh, Y/N. No wonder you’re worried. If you ever get sad about him or scared- you can visit me!” he offered.

“Even with all your work?” you asked, sniffling. 

“Oh, even with all my work! It’s nice to have company sometime!” he answered, nodding his head.

“Okay, I will…”

“Worst Case Scenario- I can fix a taser and just do it on him!” he offered. 

“Thanks, I’ll aim for the balls,” you replied.

Both of you broke into a bit of laughter. Then you said your goodbyes, and OB went back to work on the tempad with the sandwich in his free hand. 

You went about. Wiping tears off your hand. Maybe it was good to do just some office work. Focus on that- yes. It was comforting- to have something to consume your thoughts, your worries. If there was still a heart beating in his lover’s chest or if it stopped. Or if he abandoned your bed for the embrace of someone else. 

But then you heard- Kang was killed. The sacred timeline destroyed. It was an emergency, yet every single agent was running like a chicken with their head chopped off. 

Everything was going into chaos. The sacred timeline was destroyed. Everything was now free and open. Every timeline was shattered and now anything and everything could happen. Ravonna shoved paperwork into your chest.

“Here- Y/N! Take these and get them to HR! Now!” she requested. 

You clasped a file full of paperwork. Then you set off, clutching it to your chest. The view of the tall buildings, statues, and everything always makes your chest soften with its beauty. The bright lights. The sheer size of the place. You let in a deep breath to admire the sight. 

There was a noise. Footsteps. Intuitively, you turned your head for the sound. And the source ran before you.

Loki.

His shirt was a little torn in his rolled-up sleeves and his eyes wide, but it was him. His shirt was sweaty and tight. Buttons askew. His curls wild and free. He was more beautiful than you had ever seen him before. 

He paused, screeching his steps to a halt. You let out a small scream in spite of yourself, dropping the papers to your feet. Down they came in a cascade to the floor. You covered your mouth.

“...Y/N…” he panted out.

“Loki…is it…is it you…”

From the back, there was a voice crying. “There he is! Get him!”’

He looked in a panic and then turned around.

“Y/N- I’m-I’m-I missed you. I love you-but-but-but-”

More charging footsteps. He looked over at the balcony.

“Meet me down there!”

In a heartbeat, he threw himself over the balcony. You ran over.

“Loki- no!” you cried.

You looked down and saw him fall down through the air- but you knew the air would land him. It would be soft. Mobius ran by you- eyes wide. The agents, armed and ready. You peeked as he fell down, down, down. 

Not after- no- not after this time! To lose him again!

You ran. You chased him until you were breathless. Things were falling. TVA agents went after him. But you were steadfast- your heart racing in your ears. What mattered more was him. Timeline be damned- it was already. There was nothing else to do now, that mattered- but him!

You sprinted down the steps. Ran harder and faster. Tears threatening to come out.

He’s back- he’s back- he’s back!

“Loki! Loki I’m here! Don’t you-don’t you dare you fucker- you bastard, I’ll-” you cursed, breathless as you reached the last steps and got out to the floor. 

You looked around the place- searching, searching everywhere. Technology was malfunctioning- sparks flew from computers and screens. Agents everywhere still scattering. Alarms still went on, blasting into your ears. Agents were running all over the place. You looked around-seeing everything. Checking every room as people ran about. As a group gathered to watch the timeline break into pieces on a screen- you didn’t hear him behind you.

You felt two strong arms grab around you and pull you to a corner- a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Someone got you! But you could smell his sweat, his scent. Your eyes turned over-it was none other than your beloved Loki. 

“Y/N- here- we have to hide!” he said.

He practically dragged you over to the next room, shutting the door and locking it. It was a smaller, private space. A TVA office room was abandoned. Nothing but desks full of papers and computers but not a soul. Only the giant screen above detailing the sacred timeline’s downfall. Though you still heard alarms. The bustle of people from just outside. So much going on. But it was background noise to you now. You stood your ground, your hands gripping the skirt you wore for work. 

Loki went over and hugged you, your hands went up to embrace him back but were frozen mid-air.

“I needed to help the timeline!” he cried, releasing the hug. 

“You are needed here!” you insisted.

“Kang is at the loose- he has variants! I’ve been betrayed-”

“You think you’re the one betrayed!? What’s this I hear about a woman Loki you’ve been with?!”

“Wait- you mean Sl-”

In a heartbeat, you raised your hand and slapped him hard across the cheek. His head switched to the side, and the click of your hand hitting hard against his face echoed in the empty office. He caught it and nursed it with his hand. Tears fell down you again.

Then he quickly leaned over and grabbed yours. He pulled you to him, forcing you to look him in the eye. The red light of the alarms all over the office- turning red, then the familiar wan yellow of work. It glowed against his white skin, making him seem even more beautiful. 

“Y/N, I swear to you on my mother’s grave-she is no more than a sister to me! We worked together. No more than that. She kept telling me to shut up about you. Because-because I missed you so much and kept telling her how wonderful you were! I thought we could work together- but she didn’t. She did the one thing I begged her not to do- she broke the timeline- And now- now everything’s fallen apart-”

“I waited all this time and not a word from you!” you shouted. You didn’t care if it was petty. If it was being a helicopter girlfriend. You had stuffed your worries inside you for too long, and now it was out in the open. “Loki- I Was scared for you! You could have died and I would have never known!”

He put both his large hands on your face. Looking right at you.

“Y/N- with all of my heart- I am so sorry I vanished.” 

You had no words. He kept speaking to you, soft despite the chaos. Your mouth opened a little, but you had no words. You saw Loki was crying a little too as he continued. 

“If I could write to you- teleport to you- drag myself to your feet and beg for you I would! If I could even teleport to look at you- one tiny glance at you. To say one word to you- I would. It was impossible. But the stakes were high. I had to hurry. I did this because I feared for the safety of every person here- and most of all for you! Do you understand how scared I was when I saw how powerful Kang is!? That his variants could hurt you?! Norns- thank norns. I’m alive to see you again. To see you, hear your voice, touch you- Y/N, you’re safe-that is all I want. For you to be safe. Can you forgive me?”

You raised a hand to touch his.

“Loki, I…I…I’m so sorry I yelled-I…I forgive y-”

You never finished. His lips cracked onto yours.

 He groaned and you settled into it. He was needy- desperate. Too long, too long. You had forgotten how much his lips, his touch made you weak and craving more every time. His hands all over you. He turned you around, so you felt his erection against your covered ass. So he could kiss you, touch his hands over your breasts. He was kissing every bit of your neck he could, almost like biting into you- devouring and savoring you all over again like the first night you joined. He pressed his hips a little further so you could feel his hardening and you let out a gasp.

“Hel, do you feel what you do to me-even now-they’re all out to prune me again, to catch me, and all I want is your sweet warmth inside me-”

There was a slight explosion upstairs. The building shuddered. He kissed you further. Grinding a little into your hips. You felt your own panties suddenly dampen as if you stepped in a lake. You let out a gasp. He kept kissing you- his hands all over your nice, professional blouse and dress. Fingers wide to touch you, memorize you again. You turned around tugging at him-kissing him so much. Feeling his holster on his back-running a hand through his soft, beautiful curls you loved so much.

“Y/N-Y/N please-please-take me inside you- now-It’s been too long-”

“Yes- Yes, I will,” you voiced.  

The floor was shaking a little, there was a rumble like a small earthquake. People’s desk decorations, plants, and photos, were beginning to wobble if not fall over. He gathered your skirt up.

“Quick- be quick darling-they’re looking for me. We don’t have time,” Loki rasped.

He pulled you down. Holding you so that he laid down and you were on top. You clutched at his buttons. Hands shaking, ripping them apart- displaying his body, so pale, muscled, beautiful. His large hands went up to your hems, your tights. He grabbed your legs so hard- so close to him. Never to leave. Fingers digging into your skin. 

“Gods- my beautiful, desperate goddess- come on, dear- just spread your legs-now- hurry-”

You could hardly breathe as he took your skirt and bunched it to your hips. Exposing you to him. You began to grind on him- keeping yourself in the heat of your desire for him. And his for you, nearly ripping it further. He then took his hands over your breasts, your shirt-ripping buttons that came off-they splattered on the floor. Your chest exposed like his.  He kissed and touched your breast. Then in a split second, his hands went to your soaking panties.

“Nrgh- this- now this is what I need-no-no time- forgive me-again-”

 He then moved his hands up and his strong arms flexed as he ripped your panties in half.t- ripping so that your pussy was out and exposed. With trembling fingers, you went down to his pants. Quickly unbuttoning it. He adjusted his hips so that he was out.  He adjusted himself quickly, so his cock came free- so large and hard.

“Darling-just-just let me- let me-here-” he breathed out. In a second, he pushed your hips down so he sheathed inside you. You let out a gasp- he fit well- already all of him in. 

You spread your legs and got on him. Immediately setting at a pace. Fast, desperate. There was another shudder and papers flew. He began to thrust. Your breasts bounced in turn- it was hitting the right spot, a deep spot. So quick and deep, you were letting out moans. But with the alarms and cacophony of sounds you blended in. 

“L-L-Loki-I-I-” you breathed out.

He thrust thrust thrust so fast in you- it was so out of control. You were losing your breath. Another sound of electric and you let out a moan. You took a trembling hand. You found one of his daggers, despite the pounding into your bouncing body. You took it out-holding the blade to his throat, still thrusting. 

“If-If you ever- ever cheat on me I will-I’ll kill the both of you!” you hissed. 

He only smiled as he felt the blade.

“Yes- Y/N- to be killed by-by-fuck- you. Even- Even a god would want to die like that.”

He then gripped your arm and tipped it around so that it was thrown out of your hands onto the floor. Then he gripped your hips, thrusting still at that pace. Keeping you there. His hands move to feel your skin, memorize you.

“Yes-yes-Yes there-there, sweet girl- you’ve missed this cock- I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours-wet and desperate-”

He groaned as he thrust into you. Your breasts in your bra bouncing, almost coming out. You reached a hand down- feeling his shoulders- his exposed chest with the little hairs. His hand reached down. Your clit was swollen and ready. He began to play with it- meeting the wild, desperate pace of his thrusting. Papers flew from the desk over the floor. 

“Lo-Loki I- ah! Yes, I- ah- fuck-just-just keep…keep going yes-”

He groaned, his neck straining-

“Yes- little goddess here- I-do -I-I I- fuck-what about you and those men at the TVA-shit-leering at you- can they-nrgh- give you pleasure- no other agent- no other person- can- can dare-dare touch you-you’re mine, all mine-none can fuck you here-yes- keep-dammit-dammit- just cum, cum, my dear-just-”

He pounded you into a fury- you bounced around, so much it was getting too much, your pleasure going up, you could feel it building- you gripped onto his shoulders, feeling everything about to clench. Rising up, up, as wild as the alarms blaring around you. 

‘Yes-Yes-Loki- I’m-I’m goingtocumI’mgoingto-”

Your voice kept hitching up high, then higher. Like little gasps, almost small screams- the near release. He kept at his pace.

“Yes- yes, my dear- go-go I’m about to-yes-go with me darling- cum now, cum sweet gril-Cum, dammit-CUM!”

With a high gasp, it broke on you. Everything in your muscles released. You got dizzy. You felt his own cum shoot out inside you. Your breath was held and you felt him relax beneath you. He pulled out of you.

 At once he pulled himself up, touching your forehead. All the noise had gone- there was just the two of you now. Not wanting one bit of you apart.  

“Y/N- I promise. Nothing is going to keep my little pet away from me. Whatever happens now- we face it together.”

You nodded, nuzzling into him. It seemed the panic had settled. The alarms and lights went back to silent normalcy. Even with the chatter and footsteps, here in the little office, things seemed peaceful.

“Loki- I understand. You have great, important things. You’re doing the right thing- but…if I can be with you- if there is anything I can do to help- I’ll do it.”

“I love you so much- and I’ve missed you so much, my Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied. 

Getting up, you helped each other readjust your clothes. Button back each other’s shirts. He kissed you again and you both hurried out clutching hands. You didn’t know what would happen next, but his hand was in yours. That was all you needed for now. 

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello !

could I request a pheobe Spengler x reader ?

(romantic)

I don’t see anybody here that writes for her .

You can like do anything , like a oneshot or hc, idm ! c:

ty! xoxo.

oo yeah sure!! ; I did a little soulmate au on this one cause I love writing them haha ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

PHOEBE SPENGLER ; spotify

summary/prompt ; soulmates can share songs telepathically

warnings ; language

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

Phoebe bites back a laugh, a smile tugging at her lips as she sits at her desk. She clasps a hand over her mouth, staring down at the Geometry test in front of her.

"Is something funny, Ms. Spengler?" The teacher asks, having noticed her very obvious reaction.

"No, no, sorry" She quickly replies, composing herself as music plays in her head.

"There is something wrong with you, soulmate. I'm taking a test! I can't focus to Sabrina Carpenter" She thinks, wishing you could hear her. She telepathically sends a song she knows back just for moments like this, subtly rolling her eyes.

Why she even knew Fuck You by Lily Allen was a conversation for another time, but now it blares in your brain, distracting you from your work. You roll your eyes, as you'd deserved this, assuming your soulmate was probably trying to focus on their work.

"Fine, you don't like Nonsense? Take Espresso on repeat" You think, switching up the track halfway through.

Phoebe quietly exhales, switching your song to Better by Khalid, wanting to communicate that this was much better and she could actually focus now. She looks back down at her test, quickly jotting down the pythagorean theorem on her paper.

You take this as your well-deserved apology and smile, kind of wishing she picked a better song. You're able to turn the volume down, and she luckily turns it off so you can focus on whatever you were doing. You didn't ask her to do it, but it was probably the best idea to do so.

You tune into her brain again near the end of the period, where Espresso is still being played on loop. You chuckle.

"She must like it"

You decide to play a song, wanting to be a little detective and figure out who you've been playing around with for six years now. You had a will and a way, who was to say you were cheating love?

What's Your Name by Lynyrd Skynyrd caught Phoebe off guard by a long shot. She realizes that maybe you're asking her a question or are maybe trying to taunt her.

She plays you What's My Name? by Rihanna, trying to show that she caught onto the title but was a bit confused.

You play Yeah! in reply, happy she even answered in the first place. She nods, playing Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers.

It takes you a moment but you're able to piece together what her name was, definitely not Waiting Room, but Phoebe. Maybe Bridgers, probably not however.

You play My Name Is... then after about a minute, switch to a song with the same name as you, Y/n.

She plays Get It Sexyy, trying to joke around with you after the big reveal of your name. You smile and giggle as you lean against the bus window. Tyler The Creator's See You Again plays for her as the busses take you home.

You leave her with an accomplished smile to match yours. She'd honestly been too shy to try and ask your name all these years, so now she felt a little proud of you for asking for hers.

"My soulmates name is Y/n. I don't even know a Y/n"

"You don't know anyone"

Podcast and Phoebe sit in Ray's Occult Books, lounging on one of the couches as they talk. Ray is polishing jewelry under the counter, half way listening to their conversation.

"Who do you know that's named Y/n?"

"Y/n Riggs?"

"A funny Y/n," Phoebe clarifies, not wanting to imagine that her soulmate was some asshole. She knew it was just someone with the same name as you. "They're a walking Spotify playlist, Y/n Riggs doesn't have shit for a music taste"

"Y/n L/n?" Podcast asks, "That's the only other Y/n I know of"

"I don't know them" Phoebe sighs

Podcast shrugs, "I can introduce you to them? I have like, three classes with them"

Phoebe nods with a little smile, picking up a book and opening it to hide her excited grin.

"Remind me on Monday"

While you sit in class, Phoebe plays you Fainted Love by Conan Gray, almost like she knew you were just working on an essay in silence. Podcast, who sits next to you in that class, waves to Phoebe as she awkwardly walks into the class.

He'd asked the teacher if she could come down, seeing as she had a study hall at this time, and the class was gifted a free period / study hall for the day.

You didn't know Phoebe at all, well, kind of. She was a Ghostbuster which you'd seen on TV here and there, but you didn't really know her that well. She sits behind Podcast in the empty desk, where he turns around to talk to her for the next half hour.

You hear the two whispering but pay no mind, enjoying the Conan Gray playing in your head. You doodle on the side of your paper the title of the song, giving it a cool little font to fit the vibe of the song, which the curly haired girl sees.

You see in your head, or invision, that Phoebe didn't have any music playing at the moment, and decided to play her a song that you liked. Pink Floyd's Breathe plays in her mind on a low volume, and she can't help but direct her gaze towards you as Podcast speaks to her.

Luckily, just about everyone else in the class was talking loud enough that his soft-spoken voice couldn't be heard, but he made sure to be careful next to you.

Clairo's Hello? plays in your head, catching your attention. You sit up straight in contrast to your half-slumped position before and furrow your eyebrows.

You look over at Podcast and Phoebe, already looking at you. You quickly change Phoebe's song to Is It Really You? by Loathe, and she lightly smiles, the corners of her lips slowly turning upwards.

You awkwardly smile and wave at her as she returns the wave while Podcast next to her smiles widely, wanting to cheer loudly, but obviously doesn't in the small classroom. You can see the look of adoration in her eyes as she looks at you, her eyes glimmering like she fell in love at first sight.

A song plays in both of your heads, not instructed by either of you, Something New by Tokio Hotel.

Podcast giggles, tapping Phoebe's desk twice. "I'm gonna run to the cafeteria and get a drink, have fun, lovebirds"

As he walks away, Phoebe speaks. "I'm Phoebe, I think I'm your soulmate"

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you, soulmate"

[ssweetreveries]

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ♡

❀ ten x reader

. fluff!

. word count! 1.8k

{oneshot, nonidol!ten, fem!reader, barista!reader, short and sweet, fluff, reader has a bit of trauma but it’s nothing that serious, mentions of past relationships}

a.n i apologize if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proof read and english isn’t my first language, please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

synopsis . a new customer grabs your atttention.

It was a day like no other. The cafe was bustling with people, the orders seeming never ending. You glanced briefly at the clock, there was still 2 hours to your shift. The rush of customers a big juxtaposition to the slowly passing time. You softly sigh under your breath as you make your what—20th? No, 30th? Maybe.—iced americano of the day. You finish off the cold beverage before putting on your customer service persona and calling out the name of the order. “Ten?” You call out.

The man lifts his head from his phone, signalling you with a smile. You notice him, his sharp eyes staring into your own as he makes his way to the counter. Eyes fixated on him, you swear your breathing stops for a moment. He looked straight out of a magazine; tall, lean build, his dark hair resting just above his shoulders, and his high cheekbones complimenting his unique features. You quickly regain your composure, handing him his coffee. “Have a great day,” you tell him, as you do to every customer. He gives you a polite nod before making his way out of the cafe. Your eyes seem to linger on his retreating form longer than they should, before your coworker signals you of the incoming customers. You turn around and get back to work, eventually forgetting about the mesmerising man.

Little did you know, this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him. A few days later, a seemingly much slower day, the same man enters the cafe. Hearing the bell chime, indicating that a customer entered the cafe, you greet them. “Good morning, welcome,” you say with a smile, looking up from the register. Your eyes lock with his and he returns the kind smile. “Good morning,” he says as he makes his way to the counter. “You’re the pretty barista from last time”, he chuckles softly. Your eyes slightly widen at his comment, a slight blush faint on your cheeks.

“Ah, sorry, too forward?” he says with a sheepish smile. You laugh softly, dismissing him. “No, I’m flattered really. What can I get for you?”

The man doesn’t even take time to think, or look at the menu. “A tall iced-Americano, please.” You nod, taking down his order and telling him his total. How can such a seemingly sweet man enjoy something so bitter? You comment to yourself as you prepare his drink. Once his drink is collected, the man leaves the cafe. This time though, you don’t forget him. Thoughts of him lingering in your mind.

Ever since that first encounter, Ten became a regular at the cafe. He would come in every other day if not everyday. Soon enough, you two became acquaintances, sharing small talk every now and then. One particularly quiet day, you even sat with him during your break. That day, you learned more about the intriguing man. And, it was safe to say your relationship had upgraded to friends.

Soon enough, as much as you wished you didn’t, you found yourself falling more and more into the sickenly-sweet man. You would never admit that out loud though, the memories of your past surfacing at every thought of a newfound relationship. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself fall for another kind persona, being played dirty the last time you did. It happened almost a year ago, yet you remembered the shatter of your heart like it was yesterday.

You wanted to believe that Ten only had good intentions, you really did. Then again, you had also believed the same when you gave away your love and trust to Jey, your ex-lover. And, what had he done? He had gone and thrown it all away when he decided to go sleep with another woman. That day was inbred in your memory, remembered in vast details. You came back home from the cafe, same time as usual. You remember being excited to be back in your lover’s arms after a tiring day. What you didn’t expect though, was the sight that greeted you. The sight of him in your shared bed with another woman in his arms.

The thought still haunts you, and that one lingering question always makes its reappearance in the back of your mind. Why? Why..? Were you not enough for him? Did he lose interest in you? Had you done something to make him dislike you? Had he simply been playing with you all along? He had destroyed you on the inside to say the least. You trusted him enough to reveal your most vulnerable self to him, and this is what you got in return. Now, you found yourself overanalyzing every single interaction with any potential new love interests.

A few months had gone by, and Ten really made you want to believe in love again. He was a gentleman, his kindness was almost unbelievable. Sometimes you felt like he was too nice, making you wonder if it was all an act. He visited the cafe everyday after he was off work, staying until closing time so he could walk you home in the peace and quiet of the evening. You guys shared many late night talks, enjoying each other’s presence. Ten thought his actions would show as a sign he was interested in you, but it seems you were oblivious to his subtle hints.

Today was another one of those days. Ten would wait for you, sitting at a small table, whilst you finished closing up the shop. The cafe was already closed for a while, you just had to finish cleaning up a bit. Suddenly the bell of the cafe rings in the quiet of the space, signalling an incoming customer. You probably forgot to lock the door, you tell yourself. “Sorry, we’re closed!” you call out from behind the counter, putting away some dishes.

The space is quiet once again, so naturally you assume that whoever was there, left. What you don’t expect is to be met face to face by the last person you ever wanted to see. Time seems to still as your heart drops to your stomach, wide eyes staring back at him. “Jey..” you mutter under your breath, unsure what to say or do. “We’re closed.” you say sternly, after recovering from your initial shock.

“Look, (Y/N)-” he takes a step forwards, towards the counter separating you both.

“No, I don’t want to talk. Please, leave.” you mumble. You step from behind the counter, trying to lead him back to the exit. But Jey keeps on insisting, he grabs your wrist stopping you from moving any further.

“(Y/N), please hear me out. It was a mistake, leaving you was a mistake-” he starts.

The screeching of a chair can be heard, Ten who had silently been watching the whole interaction abruptly getting up.

Jey glances at him before staring back at you, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “I thought you were closed?”

“She is.” Ten speaks up. “And I advise you to leave.” he says in his usual tone. You take Jey’s distraction as an opportunity to rip your arm from his hold.

Jey looks him up and down before speaking up, “And, who are you?” he says directed to him.

Ten steps closer to you, putting himself in between you two. He looks back at you before staring back into Jey’s stare. “Her boyfriend.” he states bluntly.

Jey seems taken aback, eyes staring into yours, searching for an answer. “Are you serious?” he says appalled.

You glance at Ten before refocusing on Jey, deciding to play along, you slowly nod.

Jey lifts a hand, running it frustratingly through his hair before muttering curses under his breath. He scoffs and shakes his head unamused, before turning around and leaving the cafe without a word.

Upon his departure, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding. Immediately going to lock the front door.

When you turn back around, you find Ten looking back at you with a worried expression. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, meeting you across the room. You nod before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Boyfriend? What’s that supposed to mean,” You say, referring to earlier.

“I don’t know, did you want it to mean something..?” he replies, tentatively.

You look away, seemingly caught off guard by the rhetorical question. “I don’t know,” you say, voice barely audible.

A few minutes in silence pass, before Ten speaks up again. “(Y/N),” he starts, grabbing your attention. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this all day,” he says.

“Would you like to go to the carnival with me tonight?” he asks softly,“It doesn’t have to be as a date or anything, unless you want it to be..?” he adds.

You look back at him, surprise coating your features. He wanted to take you out, and as a date? You pondered over the idea. There was no denying beneath this underlying fear, there were some sorts of feelings for Ten. But, were you ready to accept that? Were you ready to see someone in this type of way again?

You took a moment to think about it. During the time you got to know him, Ten only proved himself to be a good person. His kindness only seemed to be a part of his caring nature, and nothing of ill intentions. You wanted to give him a chance.

Each passing seconds, the silence only seemed to stretch and Ten found himself more and more nervous about your reaction. Until you finally spoke up, “I- Yeah, I think I’d like that..” Ten smiled at your answer.

And that’s how you both finally found yourselves alone together, walking away from the small crowd after a night filled with laughter and enjoyment. Ten was still holding your hand as you abruptly stopped, causing him to turn around confused. “(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

“Thank you for tonight, Ten.” you whisper, causing him to smile in return.

“Of course, I’m glad you had fun.” he says as he holds both of your hands gently in his, facing you completely now. He stares down at you, a longing look in his eyes. Whilst you stare up at him, eyes filled with unspoken truths.

Lost in the moment and enticed by you. Ten softly leans down, lips merely inches from yours. “Is this okay?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning against your mouth.

You simply nod, closing the remaining distance between you.

Your lips on his felt right, this felt right. And that’s when you realised; you wanted to believe in love again. But, more importantly, you wanted to believe in Ten.

[lohotine]

Espresso x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Just fluff

-Relaxation-

All nighters were common occurrences for your beloved boyfriend. Always studying with such diligence.

It was admirable, sure, but eventually it'll get to a point where it does more harm then good.

Enter today; Espresso is looking over old notes and data for the sixth time this week, on the verge of passing out.

You had already attempted to get him to take a break multiple times already, but to no avail.

Perhaps your persistence will finally be rewarded today.

You twisted the handle to his door, slowly opening it to enter his room.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," Espresso says to you, not taking his eyes off of his work.

"I could be saying the same about you," you responded, walking up behind him.

Espresso didn't say anything to you, just focusing on his work.

"Espresso, my love, you need rest," you told him.

"I'm kinda busy right now," he responded in a cold, uninterested tone.

You frowned. "I know, and I don't care. We are going to at the very least take a nap."

"In a moment.."

You placed a finger under his chin, and tilted his head to look at you.

"Come on.. for me?" You blinked innocently a few times while having a soft smile on your face.

You left a small peck on his lips.

It was such a dirty move... kissing him like that.

Giving him that soft look, and smiling like that.

Not to mention wearing one of his old dress-shirts.

Really, how was he supposed to say no to you?

A subtle blush spread across his face as his glasses fogged up a bit. "Alright.." Espresso said quietly.

Your smile widened as you took hold of his hand and guided him towards the bed.

Once both of you were tucked in, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer.

You carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the table besides you.

Espresso was quick to close his eyes as you rested your head on his chest.

Your gentle hands ran through his hair, coaxing him into an even deeper slumber.

You left small kisses along his jaw before closing your eyes.

"I love you.." he mumbled softly.

"I love you too..." you responded sleepily.

[xjcjuis]

COLOGNE

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: "you said she's scared of me? // maybe it's 'cause i'm wearing your cologne"

warnings: fluff, jealous!billie, some random girl named vanessa, terms of endearment teehee

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared for two weeks 😢 got busy

"does this make my hips look too wide?" you ask, partly directed to yourself, partly to your girlfriend who was also in the room. you're checking yourself out in your bedroom's mirror, hands attempting to delicately smoothen out the creases in the dress's cloth.

"mm, no," billie hums, but one look in front of you tells you that she's not even paying attention.

"babe," you whine, "you're not even looking!" you twist a little to see the side view of your figure. "i think my chub's showing."

billie looks up from her phone to you, now the one checking you out with a not-so-subtle onceover before setting down the device and walking up to you.

she's clad in a black dress to match with yours, thin straps over her shoulders and the cloth itself pushing up what needs to be and accentuating what can be. you watch her come through the mirror, breath hitching when her arms smoothly wrap around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as she takes you in almost lazily, hooded eyes gazing intensely enough that it gets you hot in an airconditioned room.

"so?" she murmurs, voice low. "nothing's wrong with you. you look so, so beautiful."

billie kisses your temple softly, letting her lips stay on your skin for a second longer than a peck. "my gorgeous girl. in fact, it's a privilege for the others to even see you in casual wear. in this?" her hands slide a little lower to rub circles on your hipbone. "i might as well keep you home and to my self, pretty baby."

"pervert." you scoff, spraying some of billie's cologne on your skin, acting annoyed but you were really feeling pretty pleased with yourself. her words definitely helped with your self-esteem, as you knew it would, and with your comment your girlfriend only laughs and lands another kiss on your cheek.

"you're perfect, my love. and so is this ass."

a playful smack, a threatened spray in the eyes from you, and she dodges and walks out the door.

"come out in a minute or i definitely will leave you at home."

"i hate you."

fast forward to the thing you were preparing for in the first place - an award show and, of course, what comes next.

after event parties were never your thing, even as a celebrity's significant other.

as a homebody you would much rather stay at home, watching tv or scrolling through your phone or perhaps reading a nice long book by the window wrapped up in your girlfriend's warm arms, but no.

instead you were here, taking up the role of billie's plus one to a post-award show celebration. it's not that you weren't happy about physically being there to support her, but being surrounded by people on another level of fame and luxury as you were was, in a sense, intimidating.

your girlfriend wasn't there to be your comfort all the time either; her friends and other singers who recognized her came over to talk. at some point the two of you had gotten separated, although you still had her in your line of sight from a distance.

"i just have to do this thing, okay baby? i'll be back."

so you stand near a wall with nothing but juice in hand, too nervous to let loose and get drunk with your safety person currently occupied. your hands were clasped together, small purse hanging from your fingers, dress starting to feel a little uncomfortable despite the seemingly endless compliments and kisses billie had thrown you for it a few hours before.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

you jump a little at the unexpected voice. turning towards the sound, you lock eyes with a girl for a brief second before you avert your gaze, intimidated by her hooded gaze and pricey ensemble. she was pretty, yes, but she wasn't your girlfriend and so you weren't very interested in conversation.

but just to be polite, you indulge in one. "oh, i'm not alone. i'm just, um, waiting."

you shoot her a small smile, clutching your little handbag tighter and standing a little straighter.

her lips curl upward as she takes a couple steps closer, hand swiftly dropping her wine glass on a tray a waiter passing by was holding. "for? company? i'm here now. i'm vanessa."

she was a little cocky, but with a velvet voice like that, you soon fall into a comfortable discussion with her.

'how was your day's were exchanged, what do you do for work, childhood, family members - of course, not everything was spilled, but more than small talk.

the light chat turns to the subject of style and preferences, more specifically your dress, your hairstyle, your perfume.

vanessa leans too close for a whiff. not for you, she seems at a respectable enough distance from you, but definitely for billie who'd been watching from the moment she had approached you.

the singer's eyes narrow when vanessa's look the wrong way, the chatter of the personalities around her fading into the background when she gets too touchy with you, a huff of annoyance and perhaps jealousy when a random girl takes a breath of her girl's scent in.

and the fact that you didn't seem bothered by it? oh, she has got to put an end to this nonsense.

"hi, doll face." billie says intro your ear, voice an octave lower than how it had been mere seconds ago.

you feel relief flooding through your veins upon feeling familiar hands rest on you, oblivious to the staring contest billie had started with the woman in front of you long before she actually had her hands on you.

her grip on your hips tighten, more protective than usual. "sorry i took so long, i didn't mean to make you wait," she continues, pressing a kiss to your shoulder bone.

"i-" vanessa tries to speak, but billie cuts her off.

"you smell good, my love."

you twitch a little, feeling a slight tickle as your girlfriend's nose glides across your skin to plant another kiss on your jaw.

"it's your cologne, baby-" your words end abruptly as billie starts to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck, and your teeth trap your bottom lip in between them so as not to show any outward signs of your enjoyment.

vanessa, who'd grown uncomfortable at the obvious public display of affection, clears her throat at your apologetic glance. "billie, right? nice to finally meet you, i'm-"

"i don't care who you are," billie replies, blunt and straightforward. "i don't want you flirting with my girlfriend, and frankly i'm not very interested in getting to know you."

"billie!" you hiss, watching the woman walk away disgruntled. "don't be rude."

"i don't care," she repeats, hooking her fingers underneath your chin. "i don't like sharing what's mine."

and she kisses you on the mouth, fully, in the middle of a crowded room.

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Juancarlos-ortiz Masterlist

Series

Marked for Carnage - Juice Ortiz x OC

Oneshots

Haunted - Juice Ortiz x Reader

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader

Nonsense - Juice Ortiz x Reader

Safe - Juice Ortiz x Reader (Daughter!Reader x Dad!Happy Lowman)

Harder - Chibs Telford x Reader

Distraction - Happy Lowman x Reader (NSFW 18+)

Espresso - Happy Lowman x Reader (NSFW 18+)

[welcometothedopeworld]

Alright, Bet ~ *Chisei Kuzuryu*

Summary: Chisei can bag anyone he desires, he's sure of it. So he makes a promise with Haruomi: he is going to score a date with you. However, when he tries, it doesn't go according to plan.

Pairing: Chisei Kuzuryu X Fem!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 1364

Warning: Swearing, arguing, Chisei is a massive shit but he turns it around in time.

Masterlist

“Do you think I can get Y/n to fall in love with me?”

Haruomi blinked in shock at his friend. Before he could even respond, Chisei continued, “I mean, I’m already such a great guy. Like I’m literally a God among men. Besides, she probably already has the biggest crush on me. So it would be so easy to have her completely head over heels in love with me!”

“Um…”

“So you’re thinking I should do it? Jeez Haru, you’re so cruel!” Chisei laughed loudly. “I love it!”

“I don’t think you should.” He muttered, but it was already too late. He watched his friend make his way over to where you were working across the street. Deep down, he knew it was a bad idea to let him go over and see you, but if Chisei was determined to get slapped, who was he to stop him? Let him make his mistake and learn from it.

Chisei, on the other hand, was feeling as smug as smug could be. He could get you to fall in love with him just like that. He’s done it before! There was no way you could resist his charm. And if that for some crazy reason failed, he had his secret weapon. Either way, you’d be a fool if you even tried to reject him. Anyone would be lucky to be hit on by him. But he was sure you’d be putty in his hands in no time. He got this. And it was all thanks to the push from Haruomi.

After entering the coffee shop you were working in, he stepped up to the counter. He was grateful that there was no one waiting in line so he could have your undivided attention. Letting his head rest on the palm of his hand, he flashed you a cocky smirk before biting his lip seductively.

“Hello Y/n.”

You paused your cleaning of the espresso machine and narrowed your eyes at him. “Hello, Chisei. Can I help you…?”

“Yes. You can help me by going out with me this weekend.” He winked and nibbled on his bottom lip flirtatiously.

“No.”

His hand slipped from under his chin causing him to almost fall face first into the counter. “What? Did you say no?”

You nodded and went back to cleaning the coffee maker. “Yes, I said no.”

“Are you sure you want to say no?” He bit his lip again, thinking that would help. 

“Hey, stop biting your lip!” You snapped. “You’re not as sexy as you think you are when you do that, you know.”

Now he was offended. How dare you tell him that his secret weapon wasn’t sexy! He was Chisei Kuzuryu! He was the pinnacle of sexy! “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve been told I’m one of the sexiest people to ever exist in Japan. So I know you’re lying.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “You are so full of yourself! And you think accusing me of lying is going to help your chances of scoring a date? You really are a lost case! Look, if you’re not going to buy anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Is this your way of playing hard to get? Because if it is, it’s embarrassing.”

Rolling your eyes, you answered, “No, this is me being honest. I’m telling you no because you’re not my type and I’d rather drop dead than go out with you.”

Instead of getting angry like you thought he would, he let out a loud laugh. “Not your type? Baby, I’m everyone’s type. You should feel lucky I want you!”

“That’s not a comforting thought.” You muttered before heaving a sigh. “Look, Chisei. You’re… an interesting guy, and I’m sure any girl would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend. But I am not that girl. I’m sorry. Now I must tell you again: if you’re not going to buy anything, I need you to please leave.”

“Why do you have to play so hard to get?” He whined.

“I’m not playing hard to get! I just told you that!” You shouted back. Before you completely lost it on him, you took a couple deep breaths to calm your nerves. Perhaps you could go about this in a different way. “Do you want me to tell you the truth on why I don’t want to go out with you?”

He bit his lip again, making you scowl. “Is it because I’m too impossibly sexy that you think I’m out of your league?”

“No, it’s because you always do this.”

Chisei furrowed his brows, looking thoroughly confused for once. “Do what?”

“This!” You gesture wildly to all of him, heaving an exasperated sigh. “You’re one of those guys who likes playing around and just being a complete asshole to girls, thinking she likes it. I don’t want to go out with a guy who has a complete disregard for my feelings and treats everything like it’s a game. I want genuine and you’re the most dishonest person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if every word out of your mouth was a lie. Now, for the last time, if you’re not going to buy anything, get the hell out of my coffee shop!”

He was silent for a long time, just staring at you. Chisei had no idea what to think or what to do. No one had ever been this aggressive to him before. Sure Haruomi could be blunt but it didn’t hurt like how your words hurt. Usually, because he was in Buraikan, he was untouchable. However, you had no issue tearing him in two like a piece of paper. What could he say? What could he do? Was he actually being genuine to you or was he really just playing some kind of game? He needed to think, that’s what he needed to do.

“Alright. I’ll have a black coffee with sugar please.” He muttered.

You nodded and got him his coffee in record time. When you handed it to him, his fingers brushed yours but you didn’t even seem fazed by it. He, on the other hand, felt the lump in his throat grow.

Sitting at a table not too far from the counter, he didn’t even touch his coffee. He felt… bad. For what felt like the first time in forever, he felt bad for what he said and did to you. He was usually so confident and arrogant that nothing ever got to him. But this felt different. You were different.

And he couldn’t understand why. Why did you make him feel like this? What started as a silly game just to prove to Haruomi that he could get any girl he wanted, he ended up feeling bad for even trying it. What was so special about you that made him question his motives? How did you get under his skin and how could he get you out? Things were so much simpler when he didn’t have to worry about hurting anyones feelings. But it seemed he was the one that got hurt this time around. And it hurt a lot.

With a dejected sigh, Chisei got up and threw away the now cold coffee. Now he had to go back and tell Haruomi that he didn’t score a date with you. That was going to be embarrassing, especially considering how cocky he was about it earlier. But he couldn’t stand to stay here any longer.

Glancing at you, he swallowed his pride once more to say, “I’m sorry. Really. I know you think I’m lying right now, but I really am sorry for bothering you so much. I’m gonna go and not bother you again.”

Chisei was almost out the door when you called out, “Wait.”

Looking over his shoulder, he watched you sigh. “Alright, one date, but only if you prove that you’re not the kind of guy I thought you are. So no arrogance, no games, none of that shit, alright?”

He couldn’t help himself. A smirk slipped out before he could stop it. “Alright bet.”

You pointed threateningly at him. “You’re on thin ice, Kuzuryu.”

“I’m sorry!”

[fandomtherapy44]

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