#have a lovely library pass! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drchucktingle · 11 months ago

Text

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

youtube

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

#love is real #chuck tingle #tingleverse #texas library association #actually autistic #lgtbqia #Youtube

10K notes · View notes

solrin · 1 year ago

Text

TEVI TIME

when I wake up

#going for the extra long stream #like I want to love this game and I want to pass out playing it #tevi #crespirit #stream plans #i have excellent taste in games and you can tell by the 600+ I have in my Steam library #more like voracious

0 notes

sacredglitch · 1 year ago

Text

A A A A

The final scene is what I've bEEN WAITING FOR

I know daMN well they reminisced about her and all the cases they had her on...what she be like on the ones without her...

It's all I ever wanted after Carter's death. Smooches ep 14.

#rambles to the void #person of interest #person of interest s3 ep 14 #okay time to ramble on Fusco #this man gives me the same energy as someone who realises they can do a thing theyve always wanted to #like being an adult and buying those childhood toys you always wanted #hes just a big ol guy i love him #also loved Finch entertaining the idea like #''Fort Knox? No no you need to go bigger. Diamonds are forever after all''#like iirc when he was dosed with E it was Fusco who brought him back to the Library or a safe house #if this had happened now when they're more familiar with one another you bet your bottom dollar Fusco would have taken-#Finch's offer on hacking the Pentagon just to see if he could #they are the secret menaces of Team Machine and nothing will take that from me #just like Shaw and Reese are the other secret menaces #idky but i always picture those two when Finch is doing his appearances as his alias'#just chiling in the library with Bear and snooping through Finch's vinyl/cassette collection #and putting together their own mixtape that they (and Bear ofc) sing along to to pass time #Finch grew up in the what? 70s? 80s? Teenwise #he's definitely got some party and club classics in there #call it ooc but let them have a lil fun okay?

1 note · View note

etfrin · 1 year ago

Text

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

8K notes · View notes

fukashiin · 6 months ago

Text

attractive things they do #2 !

— w. housewardens

⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"

cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

shushing others so you can focus.

pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"

SO patient with you it makes you cry.

riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.

vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.

whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.

there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."

breathes the confidence into you.

downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.

just knows what you want without you having to tell him.

eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.

sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.

sets you straight when you need it.

his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.

has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.

azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.

KALIM-AL-ASIM

clears the hair out of your face when its windy.

you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"

interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)

wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.

purchases a piece of the moon for you.

you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

brings you to touch him himself.

no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.

demands full eye contact.

tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.

tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.

vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.

IDIA SHROUD

leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.

you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.

"i thought it'd cost more."

Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.

discreetly orders things to your front door.

quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."

MALLEUS DRACONIA

cushioning your head with his hand.

bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.

doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.

malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.

brushes his fingers over your collarbone.

once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

4K notes · View notes

won4kiss · 1 month ago

Text

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────UH OH, I’M FALLING IN LOVE.

𝓢YPNOSiS. you and heeseung have been rivals for as long as you could remember, constantly competing for the top spot in school—basically everything. living next door to each other only added to the fire, the tension between you, especially when heeseung’s cocky aura never seems to waver. but one single encounter shifts the entire dynamic, leading to confusing emotions arising, jealousy, and new surprising revelations. what happens when rivalry starts to feel like it’s growing into something more?

୨୧ 𝓟AiRING. academic rival! lee heeseung x fem! reader, e2l, platonic jake sim! x reader.

୨୧ 𝓖ENRE. frenemies to enemies to lovers trope, neighbours trope, slowburnish, she fell first, he fell harder, angst but vv happy & fluffy ending!! non!idol au.

୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, mean girl harassing yn, slight miscommunications, overthinking, heeseungs’ unfortunately vv dumb T-T, kissing, jealousy, insecurities, not proofread so expect spelling errors :3!!

୨୧ WORD COUNT. 10,283 | 10.2K

𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ labyrinth, taylor swift, let the light in, lana del rey, white mustang, lana del rey, i love you, i’m sorry, gracie abrams, nobody gets me, sza, fishtail, lana del rey, bel air, lana del rey, intro (end of the world), ariana grande, daydreamin’, ariana grande.

NOTE. after three days it’s finally complete:3 this is my first 10k+ work and i’m really proud of it!! feedback is always appreciated<3 ig this is another (late) birthday post for heeseung bc ilhsm!! ㅠㅠ

YOU HAVE ALWAYS HATED LEE HEESEUNG IN ALL YOUR YEARS OF LIVING.

or at least, that’s what you told yourself after your crush on him in freshman year, long before he decided he didn’t wanna be friends anymore—everyday as you stared at the back of his head in class, as you watched him stride confidently down the halls, or caught a glimpse of him outside your window, you knew you hated him.

it wasn’t hatred in the traditional sense, but rather an intense, gnawing resentment that had grown over the years.

he was your biggest rival—had been since childhood.

every achievement, every reward you earned, was always tainted by the fact that heeseung was right there, just a step ahead or a breath behind, competing with you for the same crown.

for as long as you could remember, it had been you and heeseung battling for the title of “number 1” in everything.

academics, sports, student council—if there was something to win, one of you would, and the other would be left second place, seething with anger.

you both knew it, and so did the rest of the school—the rivalry between the two of you was practically legendary.

and it didn’t help that you were neighbors.

from your bedroom window, you had a perfect view into heeseung’s room.

the distance between the two houses was just a few meters, and if you opened your windows at the same time, you could practically hear each other breathing.

there were nights when you could see the dim glow of his desk lamp as he studied late into the evening—no doubt working just as hard as you were, trying to maintain his title over you.

heeseung was infuriating, cocky, arrogant, and—worst of all—talented.

it wasn’t enough that he was smart—he was also athletic, charismatic, and effortlessly incredibly popular.

he’d never let you forget it, either, there wasn’t a day that passed without him throwing a smug comment your way about how he’d beat you in the last exam or how he scored higher in a math test by a single point.

“you almost had me that time,” he’d say with a smirk, as if being second place wasn’t a knife in your chest.

so, naturally, you’d responded in a way anyone else would, throwing curses and insults his way whenever you could.

it was a defense mechanism, a way to keep the bitter rivalry alive.

but deep down, you had to admit, there was something almost exciting about it.

heeseung pushed you to be better, to work harder—and while you loathed the look he gave you every time he won, there was something about his presence that you couldn’t quite shake off.

then, one morning, everything changed.

it was a normal tuesday, and you were getting ready for school as usual.

the sun was barely rising, casting a soft golden light into your room.

you were standing in front of your mirror, adjusting your uniform, when something caught your eye from the window—more specifically, someone.

heeseung.

at first, you didn’t think much of it—after all, his window was right across from yours, and you’d seen him countless times getting ready for the day.

but then you realized—he wasn’t just standing there, he was shirtless.

your heart skipped a beat—you froze, eyes wide, as you took in the sight of him.

his hair was still messy from his slumber, and his skin was glowing softly in the glow of the morning light.

you’d never really thought about heeseung in any way other than as your obnoxious rival, but seeing him like this—bare and vulnerable—you couldn’t deny that it did something to you.

you tried to tear your eyes away, but for some reason, you couldn’t.

you felt your cheeks grow hot as you stood there, practically staring at him.

and that’s when he turned his head.

he caught you.

heeseung’s eyes flickered toward your window, and for a split second, you thought maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t notice.

but then his lips curled into that familiar smirk, the one that always made you want to punch him, and he raised an eyebrow.

slowly, he stepped closer to the window, clearly amused by the fact that you’d been caught staring.

your heart hammered in your chest, this was the most mortifying moment of your life.

before you could react, heeseung opened his window, pushing it up with a soft creak.

his smirk widened as he leaned against the windowsill, his bare chest still on full display.

and then, he did something you didn’t expect—he motioned for you to open your window.

for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

every fiber of your being screamed at you to ignore him, to pretend this never happened.

but there was something about the way he was looking at you—something playful, something almost… flirty? it sent your brain into a whirlwind of confusion.

with shaky hands, you hesitated, then slowly cracked open your window, just enough to hear him.

“what? did you enjoy the view?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

your face flushed even hotter—this was not happening. lee heeseung was flirting with you?

he had never flirted with you before—he was usually busy insulting you or trying to one-up you.

but now? now he was standing there, shirtless, with that stupid grin on his face, teasing you like this was some kind of game.

“i—what are you even talking about?” you stammered, trying desperately to regain some sense of control. “i wasn’t staring, freak!”

heeseung chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“sure, you weren’t. it’s okay to admit it, you know? i get it. i am pretty hard to resist.”

you gaped at him, utterly speechles, was this really happening? was he seriously being… flirty?

your brain couldn’t handle it—without thinking, you slammed your window shut, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

your heart was racing as you quickly yanked the blinds down, cutting off any possibility of him seeing your red, embarrassed face.

you leaned back against the wall, your hand pressed to your chest as you tried to calm down.

what the hell just happened? was this some new tactic of his to throw you off your game? to mess with your head right before exams?

or… was it something else entirely?

for the first time in years, you found yourself truly confused about lee heeseung, and that terrified you.

you tried to push the incident out of your mind, but it clung to your thoughts like a stubborn stain you couldn’t scrub away.

that strange encounter with heeseung left you feeling unsettled, his cocky grin and the way his eyes lingered on you making you feel things you didn’t want to acknowledge.

flirting. it was definitely flirting. but why? what was his angle?

in the days that followed, things got even weirder.

heeseung, your sworn academic rival, the bane of your existence, had suddenly… softened.

the mean remarks, the casual taunts—gone.

instead, he’d been acting almost… considerate?

you noticed it first when you were walking into class one morning, arms full with textbooks and a coffee in hand.

normally, heeseung would be the first to slip in front of you and let the door slam shut in your face—just to get under your skin, of course.

but that morning, he held the door open for you, his eyes meeting yours briefly as he gave you a small nod.

“thanks,” you mumbled, confused but too caught off guard to say anything more.

he didn’t say anything either—no smug response, no condescending smile.

he just let you walk through the door and quietly followed you inside. the whole thing was… unnerving.

then, during class, he didn’t try to one-up you during discussions, didn’t toss his usual gloating looks your way when he answered a question right before you could.

he was just sitting there, minding his own business.

you couldn’t understand it. this wasn’t the heeseung you knew—the heeseung you’d spent years battling, exchanging insults, and outdoing each other.

this version of him, quiet and strangely kind, threw you off balance, and it only got worse.

in the hallways, heeseung started greeting.

not with his usual sarcasm, but with a simple, “hey.” sometimes, he’d even smile at you—an actual smile, not that infuriating smirk he usually wore.

you didn’t know what to do with it. your brain felt like it was short-circuiting every time he looked at you, like you couldn’t reconcile this new heeseung with the one who had spent years making your blood boil.

it wasn’t just you who noticed the change, either—your friends started giving you weird looks every time heeseung passed by without some snarky comment.

one day, your friend mina leaned over during lunch and whispered, “what’s up with heeseung? he’s been acting like… different lately.”

“i don’t know,” you muttered, stabbing at your food with more force than necessary. “maybe he’s finally grown up.” mina raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“or maybe he’s just tired of pretending to hate you.”

you nearly choked on your drink. “what?”

“come on,” mina said, smirking. “it’s obvious. heeseung’s been obsessed with you for years. he’s probably just finally figured out that he actually likes you.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “that’s ridiculous. heeseung hates me. we’ve been rivals since we were kids.”

mina shrugged. “rivals, sure. but that doesn’t mean he hates you. sometimes people use rivalry as an excuse to get close to someone.”

you didn’t want to believe it. you couldn’t believe it. heeseung liking you? it made no sense.

he was obnoxious, arrogant, and had made your life hell for years.

there was no way he suddenly had feelings for you. no. it was all some game—some twisted strategy to throw you off your game. right?

but then there was that nagging feeling deep inside, the one you didn’t want to acknowledge— the same ones you felt not too many years ago.

the one that kept reminding you of how your heart had skipped a beat when you saw him shirtless through the window.

how your pulse quickened every time he smiled at you now, even if you hated to admit it.

the realization was creeping in slowly, like a slow, dread filled idea building in your chest.

the truth was, heeseung had always been more than just your rival. he’d always been the one person who could get under your skin in ways no one else could.

and maybe, there was something there—something that went beyond the rivalry.

but before you could make sense of it, everything had changed again.

a few days later, you noticed a new face in school.

she was striking—tall, with long, dark hair and a bright smile that seemed to light up the room.

she moved through the hallways with an air of confidence, making friends effortlessly.

within days, it felt like everyone knew her name—you quickly learned her name too: haerin.

at first, you didn’t pay much attention to her.

she was new, sure, but you had more important things to worry about—like the upcoming exams.

but then you noticed something that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t explain.

heeseung was spending time with her—a lot of time.

you saw them together between classes, walking side by side, talking and laughing.

heeseung, who had been oddly nice to you lately, now seemed to be focusing all his attention on this new girl.

it was subtle at first—just casual conversations, a friendly smile here and there—but soon, you started seeing them together all the time.

and it wasn’t just their proximity that bothered you. it was the way they were so… touchy.

heeseung would lean in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm casually as he laughed at something she said.

she’d playfully nudge him back, her eyes sparkling.

it was the kind of easy, natural closeness that made you feel sick to your stomach.

jealousy was a foreign emotion for you—especially when it came to lee heeseung.

you’d never thought you’d care about who he spent time with—but seeing him with haerin, seeing how comfortable they were together, made something ugly and bitter rise in your chest.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being replaced.

that whatever strange connection you and heeseung had been developing was being overshadowed by this new girl.

as much as you tried to ignore it, the jealousy gnawed at you.

you couldn’t help but compare yourself to haerin—she was charming, effortlessly likable.

she fit in with heeseung’s world in a way that you never could.

you were his rival, his equal in competition, but haerin? she was someone who made him smile without the sharp edges.

you hated it. hated how it made you feel. hated how you started to question if heeseung had ever really changed at all, or if he had just been playing some long game with you.

days passed, and heeseung’s attention on haerin only seemed to grow.

they were inseparable now, and every time you saw them together, your heart clenched painfully.

the worst part was, heeseung barely even looked at you anymore.

he had stopped greeting you in the hallways, stopped holding the door for you, stopped leaving those lingering glances that had started to make your stomach flip.

it felt like you were disappearing from his world.

but maybe that was for the best, you thought—maybe heeseung was never meant to be anything more than your rival.

and maybe you were just fooling yourself into thinking there could be something more.

you had always prided yourself on your confidence.

in all the years you spent locked in competition with heeseung, you’d never doubted your abilities.

sure, he was good—annoyingly good—but so were you.

you matched him step for step, beat him sometimes, and when you didn’t, you got back up, ready to fight again.

but now, something was shifting, and it had nothing to do with grades or exams.

it had everything to do with haerin.

insecurity was new for you, but it was impossible to ignore, everywhere you looked, she was there—laughing with heeseung, brushing against him like they’d known each other for years, not just a couple of weeks.

they were so casual with each other, so comfortable.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that heeseung’s friendships didn’t affect you.

but it did. it was starting to eat away at you, piece by piece.

what was worse was that you found yourself wondering why it wasn’t you.

why had heeseung been so kind to you one minute and then completely shifted his attention to someone else?

had all those smiles, those lingering glances, meant nothing? maybe you’d misread everything.

maybe it had never been anything more than a temporary truce in your endless battle.

but no matter how much you tried to brush it off, the truth was impossible to deny—you were jealous.

you hated that it felt like haerin was taking your place in heeseung’s life.

you hated the way she made him laugh so easily—and most of all, you hated how small and insignificant it made you feel.

and then came the final straw.

it was a friday afternoon, the cafeteria bustling with noise as students crowded around tables for lunch.

you were sitting with your usual group, mina chatting about some drama she’d seen on tv, but your attention was elsewhere—locked on the sight of heeseung and haerin across the room.

they were sitting together, as usual—haerin was leaning in close, whispering something that made heeseung throw his head back in laughter.

your chest tightened at the sight—you tried to look away, to focus on mina’s story, but it was impossible.

that green, bitter feeling of jealousy twisted in your stomach, making you feel sick.

“are you even listening?” mina’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you blinked, turning back to her.

“yeah, sorry,” you muttered, forcing a smile. “just… tired, i guess.”

mina raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but before she could say anything, someone approached your table.

it was haerin.

you looked up, startled to see her standing there with a carton of milk in hand, a sweet smile on her face.

but there was something about her expression that felt… off.

her eyes gleamed with a certain smugness that sent warning bells ringing in your mind.

“oops—” haerin’s voice was sickeningly sweet as she ‘accidentally’ tipped the milk carton over, sending the liquid spilling across the table and right into your lap.

your entire body stiffened as the cold milk soaked through your clothes, shock momentarily paralyzing you.

the cafeteria seemed to go quiet around you as everyone turned to look at the scene unfolding.

haerin’s smile didn’t waver for a second.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, though there wasn’t a trace of sincerity in her voice. “that was totally an accident!”

you could feel your pulse pounding in your ears as your mind raced to process what had just happened.

the milk was cold, seeping into your uniform, but that was the least of your concerns.

you knew it wasn’t an accident. haerin had done it on purpose, and judging by the look in her eyes, she wanted to humiliate you in front of everyone.

for a second, you felt frozen—the room was watching, the sound of whispers starting to make its way through the crowd as they waited to see what you would do.

“it wasn’t an accident,” you said, your voice sharp and louder than you intended.

you stood up abruptly, glaring at haerin. “you did that on purpose.”

haerin’s smile didn’t falter—she tilted her head, feigning innocence as she blinked at you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. it was just an accident, really. no need to get so upset.”

the fake sweetness in her voice set your teeth on edge.

anger bubbled up in your chest, mixing with the hurt and insecurity you’d been bottling up for days.

“that’s a lie,” you snapped. “you’ve been trying to mess with me since you got here.”

the whispers around you grew louder as people leaned in, watching the confrontation unfold.

haerin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but before you could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“hey, what’s going on here?”

you turned to see heeseung standing a few steps away, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked between you and haerin.

for a moment, relief washed over you. heeseung had seen everything, right? he’d understand what was happening, and for once, he’d take your side.

but then haerin turned her wide, innocent eyes on him, her lower lip jutting out in a perfect pout.

“i accidentally spilled milk on her,” she said, her voice soft. “but she thinks i did it on purpose. i don’t know why she’s so mad…”

you watched in disbelief as heeseung’s expression softened.

he glanced at you, but there was no anger in his eyes—only frustration.

“come on,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “it was an accident. don’t make a big deal out of it.”

your heart sank.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing—heeseung was taking her side? after everything you’d been through, after all the strange kindness he’d shown you in the past few days, he was choosing to believe her over you?

“that’s not what happened!” you shouted, your voice breaking with frustration. “she did it on purpose! you saw—”

“just drop it,” heeseung said, cutting you off—his tone was tired, as if this whole situation was just an inconvenience to him.

“you’re seriously overreacting.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. overreacting? he was dismissing you—again.

something in you snapped—without another word, you turned on your heel and bolted from the cafeteria, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed.

the humiliation, the betrayal—it was too much to bear.

you found yourself in the empty janitor’s room, the quiet darkness swallowing you whole.

you slid down the wall, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.

everything hurt—your pride, your heart, and the foolish hope you’d had that heeseung might actually care about you.

the cold, dim room was silent, except for your quiet sobs.

you tried to keep them in, biting your lip, but the tears just kept coming.

your hands trembled as they gripped your knees, pulling yourself into a ball on the floor of the empty janitor’s room.

it was the only place you could think to hide, the only place where no one would find you in this humiliating state.

you couldn’t believe how things had turned out—everything was a mess.

not just the milk soaking into your uniform, but the betrayal from heeseung, the stupid jealousy you felt toward haerin, and the way the entire cafeteria had seen you break down.

your head spun with anger and sadness, and no matter how hard you tried to calm yourself, the tears kept flowing.

then, there was a soft knock on the door.

you stiffened, wiping your face furiously with the back of your sleeve.

whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you like this.

but before you could pull yourself together, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

“hey… are you okay?”

jake sim?

you blinked up at him, confused, you hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for you, least of all jake—heeseung’s rival on the basketball court and someone you’d barely spoken to outside of class.

he closed the door behind him, giving you a soft, understanding smile as he crouched down in front of you.

you sniffed, quickly wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still shaky. jake shrugged, sitting down beside you on the cold floor.

“i saw what happened in the cafeteria. i figured you might want to be alone, but… i also thought you could use some company.”

you looked away, embarrassed that he’d witnessed everything—the last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this, but at the same time, the quiet sympathy in his voice was oddly comforting.

“i don’t need company,” you muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

jake chuckled softly. “maybe not, but i’m staying anyway.” for a few moments, neither of you said anything.

jake sat beside you in silence, giving you space to collect your thoughts—it was strange how easy it felt to be around him.

even though you’d never been particularly close, his presence wasn’t overwhelming or intrusive. it was just… there, solid and dependable.

finally, you sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “it was her,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“haerin. she did it on purpose.”

jake nodded. “i figured. she’s been hanging around heeseung a lot lately. guess she thought picking a fight with you would get her more attention.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the anger bubble up again. “and heeseung… he just believed her. he didn’t even listen to me. he just… told me to drop it, like it didn’t matter.”

jake was silent for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“yeah, that wasn’t cool of him. i don’t know what’s going on with heeseung, but what he did today was wrong. you deserved better than that.”

the simple validation of your feelings made something inside you crack open.

you hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that—how much you needed someone to understand what you were going through.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

jake smiled at you, the kind of smile that felt genuine and warm. “anytime.”

for a while, you sat there in silence, letting the tension of the day slowly nib away in jake’s quiet company.

it was strange—this was the first real conversation you’d ever had with him, but somehow, it felt like you’d known him for longer.

there was no awkwardness, no pressure to fill the silence with unnecessary words. he was just… there.

after a while, you finally spoke again. “why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

jake chuckled softly. “is it that surprising?”

“a little,” you admitted. “i mean, we’ve never really talked before.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “true, but i’ve seen you around. we’re in the same class, and you’re heeseung’s biggest rival. i guess i always admired how you handled him.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised. “admired?”

“yeah,” he said with a smile. “heeseung can be a lot to deal with, but you never back down. you’re tough, and you’re not afraid to butt heads with him. that’s not something everyone can do.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

no one had ever put it that way before—most people saw your rivalry with heeseung as petty or competitive, but jake seemed to see something more.

something you hadn’t even realized about yourself.

“thanks,” you murmured, unsure of what else to say.

jake gave you another easy smile. “no problem. and hey, if you ever need someone to vent to, i’m here. heeseung might be my rival on the court, but that doesn’t mean i’m on his side when it comes to this.”

for the first time all day, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips.

jake’s kindness, his quiet reassurance, was exactly what you needed.

he didn’t try to fix everything or offer empty words of comfort. he just listened, and somehow, that made all the difference.

“thanks, jake,” you said softly. “i really do appreciate it.”

“anytime,” he replied with a grin, standing up and offering you a hand to help you off the floor.

you hesitated for a moment, then took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

as you both made your way out of the janitor’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like some of the weight on your chest had lifted.

jake’s unexpected kindness had done more to heal the hurt than you’d expected.

and as you walked side by side back to class, you realized that maybe, this was the beginning of a new friendship.

over the next few days, something unexpected happened—you found yourself spending more time with jake.

jake made everything feel a little easier, a little lighter, and you didn’t feel the constant pressure to put up walls around him.

at first, it was just small moments here and there, like passing each other in the hallways and exchanging knowing smiles, or sitting together during lunch when mina was busy.

with jake, there were no mind games, no intense competition, and definitely no betrayal.

the first time you laughed with him in class, you almost forgot the sting of what had happened with heeseung—almost.

it was small things at first. jake would crack a joke when you were feeling down, or lean over during study periods to ask a random question that had nothing to do with school but everything to do with making you smile.

he had this easygoing charm about him, the kind that made it impossible to stay mad or sad for long.

and, of course, heeseung noticed.

it was hard not to. you and jake had started walking to and from classes together, and every time heeseung passed by, you could feel his eyes on you.

he didn’t say anything at first, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made your skin prickle—like he was trying to figure something out, something that was just out of his reach.

one afternoon, you were sitting with jake outside, taking in the rare moment of sunshine between classes.

jake had just told a terrible joke, the kind that made you laugh even though it was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, playfully nudging his shoulder.

“really, jake? that’s the best you’ve got?” you teased, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as your laughter faded.

“hey, i don’t see you coming up with anything better,” he shot back, grinning.

his smile was infectious, and you felt a warm comfort wash over you.

it was nice, being able to relax like this—something you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

heeseung stood a few feet away, watching you and jake with a look that was hard to read.

his jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw something close to frustration flash across his face.

you immediately straightened up, the laughter dying in your throat as you met his gaze.

heeseung didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but the tension between the three of you was thick.

jake noticed too, his smile fading slightly as he glanced between you and heeseung, clearly picking up on the strange energy.

“heeseung,” jake greeted casually, though his tone was a little less cheerful than before. “you need something?”

heeseung’s eyes flickered from jake to you, and for a brief second, you saw something in them—something sharp and raw.

he shook his head, his expression unreadable. “no,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “just passing by.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say.

there was an awkwardness in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before, and you couldn’t help but feel like something unspoken was simmering beneath the surface.

but before you could figure out what it was, heeseung turned and walked away without another word, leaving you and jake in a strange, uncomfortable silence.

jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “heeseung sure knows how to kill a vibe, huh?”

you tried to laugh, but it came out weak and forced. “yeah…”

but your mind was already elsewhere—on the look in heeseung’s eyes, the way his shoulders had tensed when he saw you and jake laughing together.

heeseung had never been one to back down from anything, but now it seemed like he was avoiding you.

and it didn’t make sense—one minute, he was pushing your buttons, flirting with you through the window, and the next, he was… distant. cold.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you two, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted to.

that night, as you sat at your desk pretending to study, you caught a flicker of movement outside your window.

your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you glanced over to see heeseung’s figure illuminated in the soft glow of his desk lamp.

your eyes locked for a moment.

then, heeseung did something that took you completely by surprise.

he reached down, grabbed something from the floor, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed a small rock at your window.

it hit with a soft tap, not loud enough to startle you, but enough to catch your attention.

you hesitated, unsure of what he wanted.

heeseung hadn’t thrown rocks at your window since you were kids, back when your rivalry was less serious and more playful— back when you could actually call lee heeseung one of your best friends.

now, the gesture felt strange—almost nostalgic in a way that made your chest tighten.

still, you couldn’t ignore him—you pushed the window up, letting in the cool evening air, and leaned out slightly, your voice low as you called over to him.

“what do you want?”

heeseung’s face was mostly in shadow, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the edge of his window as if he was holding something back.

“i need to talk to you,” he said, his voice quieter than you expected. “now.”

you frowned, your heartbeat quickening. “about what?”

“just open your window,” he muttered, his voice strained. there was something different in his tone—something vulnerable, almost desperate.

it wasn’t like the confident, cocky heeseung you knew. and that was what made you hesitate.

but after a long pause, you sighed and opened the window a little wider, waiting for whatever he had to say.

you stood at your window, the cool night air brushing against your skin, as heeseung’s figure shifted in his room across from yours.

he was still gripping the windowsill, his posture stiff and tense.

the silence between you stretched, uncomfortable and heavy, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“what do you want, heeseung?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.

the wound from the cafeteria incident was still fresh, the memory of him siding with haerin burning in your chest.

for a second, heeseung didn’t respond, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight as if he was struggling with what to say.

then, finally, he let out a long breath, and his shoulders slumped, just a little.

“why are you hanging out with jake?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “what?”

heeseung’s hand ran through his hair in frustration.

“jake. you’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately. laughing with him, spending time with him…” his voice trailed off, and when his eyes met yours again, there was a flash of something vulnerable in them—something you hadn’t seen before. “why him?”

anger flared inside you—after everything that had happened, after he had humiliated you in front of everyone, this was what he cared about? who you were spending time with?

“why does it matter?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “what, you’re allowed to spend all your time with haerin, but i can’t hang out with jake?”

heeseung winced at the mention of haerin, but he didn’t back down.

“that’s not what this is about—“

“then what is it about?” you shot back, your voice rising with frustration. “because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re just jealous.”

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it out loud. “jealous? of jake?”

“yeah,” you said, glaring at him. “you have no right to question who i spend time with. especially after what you did.”

his brows furrowed in confusion. “what are you talking about?”

“the cafeteria, heeseung!” you practically shouted, the hurt finally spilling over.

“you took haerin’s side, you embarrassed me in front of everyone, and you didn’t even bother to hear me out! and now, you’re mad because i’ve been hanging out with jake? after you made it pretty clear you don’t care about me at all?”

the words came out harsher than you intended, but once they were out, there was no taking them back.

the raw truth of how much heeseung had hurt you was now laid bare between the two of you, hanging in the air like a thick fog.

heeseung’s expression crumpled. for a moment, he looked utterly lost, his eyes wide with regret and something close to panic.

“i—” he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from yours. “i didn’t know. i didn’t realize…”

you let out a bitter laugh, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“of course you didn’t heeseung, you’ve been too busy with haerin to notice.”

heeseung’s face twisted with frustration. “it’s not like that with her.”

“really? because it sure seems like it.” your voice was trembling now, the emotional weight of everything threatening to crush you.

“you’re always with her. you don’t even look at me anymore. and when you did have the chance to stand up for me, you didn’t. you humiliated me, heeseung. and you didn’t care.”

the words hit him like a slap. you could see it in the way his eyes widened, how his hands balled into fists at his sides.

heeseung took a step closer to the window, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “you think i didn’t care?”

you stayed silent, your heart pounding in your chest.

heeseung’s jaw clenched, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “i’ve been an idiot. i know that now.” his eyes were locked on yours, and for the first time, you could see the depth of his regret.

“you’re right. i didn’t stand up for you, and i should have. i hurt you, and i hate that i did. but it’s because…”

he hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

“it’s because i’ve been trying so hard to ignore how i feel about you,” he finally confessed, his voice thick with anxiety.

“i’ve spent so long thinking of you as my friend—then my rival and enemy, as someone i had to beat, that i didn’t realize… i didn’t want to admit that it was more than that.”

your breath caught in your throat.

“i’ve been feeling odd—weird around you for a long time,” heeseung continued, his voice cracking slightly.

“but i didn’t know how to deal with it. i pushed you away, acted like a jerk because i was scared. and then haerin showed up, and i thought if i focused on her, maybe i could forget about you—get rid of this feeling, but i couldn’t.”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

you wanted to be angry, wanted to hold on to that hurt and betrayal, but hearing heeseung’s voice crack with vulnerability made it harder.

his words, the way he looked at you, made you feel things you had been trying to deny for so long.

“but why didn’t you defend me?” you asked, your voice breaking.

heeseung’s expression crumpled. “i don’t know,” he whispered. “i was stupid. i thought if i stayed out of it, it would just go away. but it didn’t. and now i’ve ruined everything.”

you stared at him for a long moment, your heart aching with the weight of it all.

heeseung was standing there, tears welling in his own eyes, and for the first time in all the years you’d known him, he looked completely vulnerable.

“i don’t know if i can forgive you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “not right now.”

heeseung nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he swallowed hard.

“i understand,” he said softly. “but please… don’t shut me out.”

without another word, you shut your window, turning your back on him and collapsing onto your bed, emotions swirling inside you.

even though you had closed the window on him, part of you still wanted to reach out.

the next morning, you woke up feeling emotionally drained.

the conversation with heeseung played over and over in your mind like a broken record player, his voice echoing in your head, repeating those words.

“i’ve liked you for a long time.”—you had wanted to be angry, to stay angry, but now, all you felt was confusion.

did it even matter? he’d hurt you, after all.

that should’ve been enough to keep the walls you’d built between the two of you intact.

but something inside you had softened at seeing him so vulnerable, so broken.

you’d seen a side of him you weren’t sure anyone else had ever seen.

as you made your way to school, you told yourself that things would go back to normal.

you’d ignore heeseung like you always did, keep your distance, and focus on the things that mattered—your studies, your friendship with jake, anything but heeseung.

but the moment you walked into the classroom, all of that went out the window.

there, sitting on your desk, was a small carton of strawberry milk—your favorite.

you stopped in your tracks, blinking in confusion—the bright pink carton stood out against the plain wooden surface of your desk, and for a moment, you thought it had to be some kind of mistake.

but then you saw it— a folded note tucked underneath the carton.

with cautious fingers, you reached for the note and unfolded it. the handwriting was familiar, neat and precise.

“i’m sorry.”

that was it—no explanation, no signature, but you didn’t need one.

you knew exactly who it was from. your heart gave an involuntary flutter, and you quickly stuffed the note into your bag before anyone could see it.

your eyes darted to heeseung’s seat across the room.

he was already there, sitting with his head resting on his hand, staring at the window as if he hadn’t just left a peace offering on your desk.

he didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge you, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like he was waiting for you to react.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to do—you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to cling to the hurt and anger from yesterday, but this… this small gesture of apology tugged at something deep inside you.

heeseung wasn’t one to apologize easily. you knew that. he was proud, stubborn, and always had to win. but this? this was different. it wasn’t much, but it was something.

before you could figure out how to feel about it, the bell rang, and the classroom began to fill with students.

you slid into your seat, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as the day began.

over the next few days, it became a pattern.

every morning, when you arrived at school, there was something waiting for you on your desk—a carton of strawberry milk, a small packet of your favorite snacks, even a neatly folded handkerchief after gym class when you’d been sweating.

each gift came with the same simple note—“i’m sorry.”

it was starting to drive you crazy.

heeseung didn’t say a word to you during class, didn’t try to talk to you between periods, but his quiet gestures of apology were impossible to ignore.

the other students had started to notice too, whispering to each other whenever they saw the latest offering on your desk.

“what’s going on with you and heeseung?” mina asked one day at lunch, her eyebrows raised in suspicion. “he’s been acting so… weird lately.”

you shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “i don’t know. he’s just… apologizing, i guess.”

mina’s eyes widened. “apologizing? for what?”

you hesitated, unsure of how much to tell her—mina didn’t know about the confrontation in the cafeteria, didn’t know how much heeseung’s words had hurt you.

and honestly, you didn’t feel like reliving it. so instead, you just sighed. “it’s complicated.”

mina gave you a look, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer, but thankfully she didn’t push it.

instead, she glanced over at jake, who had been sitting quietly beside you, picking at his food.

“what do you think about all this?” she asked, nudging him playfully. “you and heeseung have always been rivals too, right?”

jake glanced up, his expression thoughtful “yeah, we’re rivals on the court,” he said, his voice casual. “but i don’t really care about that. if he’s apologizing, maybe he’s finally realized he messed up.”

you looked over at jake, feeling a wave of gratitude for his support.

he had been there for you when you needed someone, and now, more than ever, you appreciated his calm, steady presence.

he didn’t make a big deal out of the situation, didn’t push you to confront heeseung before you were ready. he just… understood.

jake caught your eye and smiled, and for a moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

but of course, that peace didn’t last long.

later that afternoon, as you were walking through the hall with jake, laughing at one of his dumb jokes, you felt someone grab your wrist.

you stopped, your laughter dying on your lips as you turned to see heeseung standing there, his grip firm but not painful.

his eyes were intense, his jaw set in determination.

“come with me,” he muttered, his voice low and urgent.

you blinked, confused. “what? where—”

“just… come on.” heeseung didn’t give you a chance to argue. he tugged you along, pulling you toward the stairwell that led up to the rooftop.

jake called after you, his voice tinged with concern, but you were already too far down the hall to stop.

your heart pounded in your chest as heeseung led you up the stairs, the quiet intensity of the moment making your head spin.

when you finally reached the rooftop, he let go of your wrist and turned to face you, his expression conflicted, like he didn’t know whether to yell or beg for your forgiveness.

“what are you doing, heeseung?” you asked, your voice shaky with confusion and anger.

“i need to talk to you,” he said, his voice quiet but desperate. “about everything.”

the rooftop was quiet, other than the soft rustling of the wind and the distant chatter of the school below.

you stood there, facing heeseung, your heart pounding in your chest.

the tension between the two of you was thick, and the silence stretched on, filled with the weight of everything unsaid.

“what are we doing here?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

you were still reeling from the suddenness of it all—one moment you’d been laughing with jake, and the next, heeseung was dragging you up here like something urgent was at stake.

heeseung ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face.

“i needed to get you away from him,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“from jake?” you asked in bewilderment, your anger flaring up again. “what does jake have to do with this?”

heeseung finally looked at you, his eyes dark and intense. “everything. he’s—he’s not the one you should be with.”

you stared at him, stunned. “excuse me? what gives you the right to say that?”

“i know,” heeseung said quickly, holding up his hands in a gesture that almost seemed like surrender.

“i know i don’t have the right. but i can’t stand watching you with him any longer.”

your chest tightened as his words hung in the air—you didn’t know what to say.

part of you wanted to snap back, to tell him that he had no business being jealous after what he did.

but the other part of you— the part that had been waiting for him to say something—was finally starting to understand.

heeseung’s voice softened, and he took a small step closer to you. “even if we’re enemies, even if we’ve always been rivals, i would never side with jake. i would never choose someone over you.”

you blinked, your mind racing. his words made no sense. “then why didn’t you defend me in the cafeteria?” your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but the hurt was still there, sharp and raw.

heeseung flinched at the question, his jaw tightening. “i told you— i don’t know,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“it was stupid. i didn’t realize how much i was hurting you. and when i saw you with jake…”

he trailed off, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand what he was struggling to say.

“when you saw me with jake, what?” you pushed, your voice quieter now, the anger fading away into something softer.

heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours.

“when i saw you with him, i realized how much i messed up. i realized that i was losing you, and i didn’t know what to do.” he took another step closer, his eyes filled with regret.

“i’ve been trying to ignore it for so long—these feelings i have for you. but i can’t anymore.”

your breath hitched at his confession, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

heeseung, the person you’d spent your entire life competing with, the person who had always been rude and cocky, was standing in front of you, confessing that he liked you?

“feelings?” you echoed, your voice barely audible.

heeseung nodded, his expression raw and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

“yeah. i’ve liked you for a long time, but i didn’t know how to handle it. so i pushed you away. i made everything about our rivalry because i didn’t know what else to do.”

his words hit you like a wave, crashing over you and leaving you breathless.

you didn’t know how to process it, didn’t know how to reconcile the heeseung you’d always known with the one standing in front of you now, baring his soul.

“i hurt you,” heeseung continued, his voice trembling slightly. “and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. but i can’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. i don’t want to be your rival anymore. i don’t want to lose you.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding, your mind racing with thoughts.

this was everything you’d been trying to ignore, everything you’d pushed aside because you didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings that had been building up between you.

but now, standing here, with heeseung looking at you like he was afraid you were going to slip away, you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“i…” your voice faltered, your throat tight with emotion. “you’re an idiot.”

heeseung blinked, startled. “what?”

“you’re an idiot,” you repeated, shaking your head as a small, incredulous laugh escaped your lips.

“you spent all this time pushing me away when you could have just told me the truth earlier.”

heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, you closed the distance between you in one fast motion, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss.

for a second, heeseung froze, clearly shocked by your sudden move.

but then, he kissed you back, his hands coming up to gently cup your face.

the kiss was soft, slow at first, but it quickly deepened as all the tension between you melted away.

it was like everything you’d been holding back, all the unspoken words, all the bottled-up emotions, were finally being released in that moment.

heeseung’s lips were warm and gentle, and he kissed you like he’d been wanting to for a long time—slowly, sweetly, as if he didn’t want the moment to end.

your heart raced in your chest, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you poured all of your frustration, confusion, and affection, into the kiss.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, you stared up at him, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding.

heeseung’s eyes were wide with surprise, but there was a small, almost dazed smile tugging at his lips.

“i… i didn’t expect that,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

you smiled, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. “you’re such an idiot,” you said again, but this time, there was no bite to your words—just warmth.

heeseung let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “i am.”

without thinking, you kissed him again, softer this time, more sure of yourself.

and as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, you realized that this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

the next day at school, everything felt different. it was subtle at first—a kind of quiet shift in the air that made you hyper-aware of heeseung’s presence the moment you walked into the classroom.

you weren’t used to this—the ease, the softness that seemed to have settled between you overnight.

after years of rivalry, the shift from enemies to something more felt almost surreal.

but then you saw him—heeseung sitting at his desk, already glancing over at you the second you stepped through the door.

his usual smirk was gone, replaced by a small, almost shy smile, and it sent a warm flutter through your chest.

you smiled back, the tension from the day before melting away as he held your gaze for just a moment longer than usual.

it was like the rivalry had evaporated overnight, leaving something softer in its place. and yet, the familiarity of your banter remained.

you slid into your seat, feeling a little lighter than you had in weeks.

there was no strawberry milk waiting on your desk this time, no snacks or apology notes, but the absence didn’t bother you.

the fact that heeseung had taken the time to talk to you, to open up the way he had, was more than enough.

still, you couldn’t help but notice that people were whispering.

it wasn’t loud or obvious, but every so often, you’d catch someone glancing your way, their eyebrows raised in curiosity.

mina, of course, was the first to bring it up.

“what’s going on with you and heeseung?” she asked as soon as you sat down for lunch.

her eyes were gleaming with excitement, clearly having picked up on the shift in dynamics. “you two are acting so different!”

you shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as you could. “we talked. that’s all.”

mina narrowed her eyes. “you talked? come on, you can’t tell me something didn’t happen. you guys have been enemies for, like, forever, and suddenly you’re all… smiley. it’s weird.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you looked down at your tray, trying to hide the small grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “it’s complicated.”

before mina could press you further, someone else slid into the seat next to you.

you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was—jake, with his usual easygoing smile and relaxed posture, leaned back in his chair as if he owned the place.

“so, you and heeseung, huh?” jake asked, his tone teasing.

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “not you too.”

jake chuckled, nudging you with his elbow. “hey, i’m just happy for you. i mean, after everything that happened… well, it’s nice to see you smile again.”

you peeked at him from between your fingers, grateful for his kindness.

jake had been there for you when you needed someone, and you’d grown closer over the past few weeks.

but now, things were different, and while you appreciated his friendship, you couldn’t deny the new fluttering feeling that came with thinking about heeseung.

still, you couldn’t resist teasing jake a little. “you’re not jealous, are you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

jake laughed, shaking his head. “nah, i could never compete with heeseung. that guy’s got it bad for you.”

the teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you were about to reply when someone cleared their throat behind you.

you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—the shift in the air—the quiet intensity—was unmistakable.

heeseung stood there, his gaze flickering between you and jake, his jaw clenched slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying edge of jealousy.

jake grinned up at him, completely unfazed by the tension. “just talking, man. relax.”

heeseung didn’t move, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “right. well, we’ve got plans after school, don’t we?” his tone was directed at you now, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight possessiveness in his voice.

you blinked, caught off guard. “plans?”

heeseung’s lips quirked up into a small smile, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of softness that made your heart race. “yeah. walking home together, remember?”

you tried not to smile too widely, but it was impossible to hide the way your heart fluttered at his words.

jake, ever the instigator, raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“oh, so it’s like that now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “guess i’ll have to find someone else to walk home with.”

heeseung shot him a look that was almost a glare, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “yeah, you will.”

you rolled your eyes, though a small giggle escaped your lips. “heeseung, you’re being ridiculous.”

heeseung leaned down, resting one hand on the back of your chair as he looked down at you with a grin.

“maybe,” he admitted, his voice softer now, “but i don’t like sharing.”

the possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, but instead of feeling annoyed, you found it… oddly endearing.

you nudged him lightly. “you’re such a child.”

heeseung chuckled, the sound low and warm, before he straightened up, glancing once more at jake. “you’ll be fine without her, right?”

jake waved him off, laughing. “i’ll survive, don’t worry.”

just as you were about to stand up and leave with heeseung, a voice interrupted the playful atmosphere, slicing through the lightheartedness like a cold breeze.

“heeseung.”

you looked up to see haerin standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her eyes that made your stomach twist.

she glanced between you and heeseung, her lips pressed into a thin line before she focused on him. “can we talk? alone.”

heeseung’s body tensed beside you, but instead of acknowledging her request, he tightened his grip on the back of your chair, his attention still fixed on you.

“no, i’m good,” heeseung said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

haerin blinked, clearly not expecting the rejection. “i just wanted to—”

“i’m with someone right now,” heeseung cut her off, his voice firm but calm. “and i’d appreciate it if you left us alone.”

the sting of his words was evident in haerin’s eyes, but she didn’t argue.

after a moment, she let out a quiet scoff and walked away, her shoulders tense as she disappeared into the crowd.

you stared at heeseung, surprised by how easily he had brushed her off.

heeseung, who had spent so much time with her recently, was now acting like she didn’t even exist.

“was that necessary?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

heeseung shrugged, his expression softening as he looked at you. “what can i say? i’m done with all the games.”

you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but smile.

the possessiveness, the way heeseung had stood by your side without hesitation—it all made you realize just how much had changed between you two.

as the day went on, the whispers and curious glances from your classmates only grew louder.

everyone seemed to be talking about you and heeseung, but you didn’t mind.

in fact, you kind of liked it. for once, the focus wasn’t on your rivalry—it was on something else, something sweeter.

at the end of the day, as promised, heeseung was waiting for you by the school gates.

you spotted him leaning casually against the fence, his hands stuffed in his pockets, but the moment he saw you, his face lit up with that soft smile that made your heart race.

“ready to go?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you started walking together.

you nodded, glancing up at him. “you know everyone’s talking about us, right?”

heeseung chuckled, shrugging. “let them talk.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a lightness to your steps as you walked side by side.

it felt easy, natural—like this was how things were always supposed to be.

and for the first time in a long time, the space between you and heeseung wasn’t filled with tension or competition.

it was filled with something warmer, something that made your heart feel full.

as you walked, you noticed heeseung’s hand brush against yours, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and intertwined your fingers with his.

heeseung glanced down at your hands, a look of surprise crossing his face before his smile widened, his grip tightening around yours.

neither of you said anything for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence and the feeling of walking together.

but eventually, you cleared your throat, glancing up at him with a teasing smile.

“so… are we, like, official now?”

heeseung slowed his pace, looking down at you with an amused grin. “official?”

“you know what i mean,” you said, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “boyfriend and girlfriend.”

heeseung’s expression softened at your words, and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “i want us to be official. if you do, too.”

your heart swelled at the tenderness in his eyes, and you felt a soft smile spread across your lips. “i do.”

heeseung’s eyes sparkled with something like relief and joy, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

it was slow, gentle, and filled with all the unspoken promises of this new chapter you were beginning together.

when he pulled back, you were both smiling, a quiet warmth settling between you.

“good,” heeseung murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “because i’m not letting you go.”

you laughed softly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. “i’m not going anywhere.”

with that, the two of you continued walking home, hand in hand, your steps perfectly in sync.

and as the sun shimmered down lower in the sky, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful—something that had been building for far longer than either of you had realized.

heeseung was no longer just your rival—he was your boyfriend.

and honestly? it felt perfect.

❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @shawnyle @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @wonsprincess @rikibwn @niawonn @nineooooo

2K notes · View notes

jamessluttythighs · 2 months ago

Text

have - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 216 - 16 September

James and Sirius’ favourite pastime was to sit on the steps outside the library and pass judgement on those going in to study. Their university was massive so the pool of randos was always plentiful.

“Sick as fuck bag”

“Frosted tips do not work on him.”

“She needs to ditch the scrunchie, that was so 2016”

Oftentimes it just resulted in a big game of smash or pass. Or rather it was a game for James where Sirius just offered his opinion. Sirius was hopelessly in love with his boyfriend, Remus. They had moved in together recently after problems with Sirius’ family. James doesn’t know the full story. Sirius hardly talks about his family.

“She’s lovely, look at her hair. It’s like a fire.”

“That’s Evans, she’s in my Physics class. Too bad she likes women.”

“Ugh, all the good ones do.”

“Hmmm he’s cute,” James tried again.

“Too many facial piercings for me. Are those snake bites?”

“Hot. Wait no. I’ve found the love of my life. That devastatingly gorgeous, grey-eyed god just behind him.”

“What the fuck Prongs?” Sirius exclaimed, his expression incredulous.

James, startled by this sudden outburst, tore his eyes away from the man in the dark green crop top as he entered the library doors. “What?”

“That’s my little brother!”

“You have a brother?”

#dead gay wizards #marauders #james potter #regulus black #the marauders #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #stag microfic

2K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 1 month ago

Text

deal maker

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, pussy eating, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, dry humping, foreplay, slight corruption kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) sweetheart.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.7k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, Halloween, supernatural/demon au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Happy Halloween!

One: her

If it weren’t for the fact that you’re in the middle of a library, you might just scream. You know your workload increases with each year you’re in university, but there’s something sinister about the amount of book-related essays you have right before Halloween.

You’re doing your best to focus, and you’ve read the entirety of the ‘Frankenstein’ book that you’re supposed to be analyzing, but you just can’t find words.

A massive sigh escapes you, and your best friend, Hwasa, casts you a sideways glance. “You good, babes?” she asks.

“I just- I can’t do this,” you groan. “It’s a completely open ended prompt- I could write about anything I want to, and all things considered, five thousand words isn’t the longest essay ever- but, damn, I seriously can’t think right now.”

She nods sympathetically. “Do you really think you’re at rock bottom on this?”

“I don’t see how I could go any lower.”

“Okay, well,” she scoots her chair closer to you, her voice lowering, “i wouldn’t suggest this otherwise, but uh- have you ever thought about contacting the Sigma Veta Tau demon?”

“The what?” you stare at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about him, you’re a goody goody,” Hwasa sighs. “Basically, there’s this guy in the SVT frat who makes deals and does your work for you.”

“What’s this have to do with being a demon?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a weird myth- basically, this guy helped me with an essay last year worth thirty percent of my grade. All he asked for was a family heirloom, and I think it’s his weird choice of price for favours that get him the whole ‘demon’ thing cuz he doesn’t usually ask for money like other dudes who write your papers would.”

“How did you do? On the essay?” you ask.

“Got an A. He doesn’t overdo it, he does enough to get you a good grade but not so good it’s obvious you didn’t do the work.”

“So… is he an actual demon, or?” You cock your head to the side, trying to understand the whole demon relevance.

“Nah, like I said, he’s just some hot nerd who wrote my essay. It wasn’t sketchy at all.”

“And he does this for a lot of people?”

“I’ve heard about a few. I know his friend Dokyeom was close to failing his Kinesiology course and somehow Wonwoo did his final exam for him and helped him pass.”

You let out a small laugh. You’re familiar with the Sigma Veta Tau frat, and DK is a well known figure there- getting someone to help him pass Kinesiology is very characteristic to the loud gym bro. “Wait, but, how did Wonwoo pull it off? They ID you at the final exams, don’t they?”

Hwasa shrugs. “I guess the dude pulls off miracles every once in a blue moon, maybe that’s part of his ‘demonic’ reputation.”

“Are we sure this a good idea?” you ask.

“Making a deal with the Devil?” Hwasa clarifies. “Of course, what could go wrong?”

You laugh at her choice of words.

This Wonwoo guy definitely isn’t the Devil… and even if he was, what would making a deal with him even really include?

You’re skeptical to say the least, but looking back at your worn out book, and your laptop document open with zero words- you begin to wonder if maybe this Wonwoo guy is a good way to solve your current predicament.

Two:

Wonwoo quite enjoys living on campus. He loves the onslaught to his senses every time he’s out and about, mingling with university kids who have way too much on their plate. No one ever notices him, no one ever notices the things that are slightly… off about him, they’re much too busy focusing on this week’s term paper, or this week’s quiz.

No, Wonwoo’s extremely happy being exactly where he is. He’s lounging in a coffee shop that connects to the book store, his eyes darting from person to person, assessing-

That’s when his gaze locks with someone familiar.

Hwasa had come to him last year, needing an essay completed. It had been one of Wonwoo’s easier tasks, as he’s read the source material upwards of twenty times in his long life. He’s seen her around campus a few times since then, but she’s never approached him, not the way she is now.

“Hi, Wonwoo!” Hwasa grins, demenour as bubbly as ever.

The frat boy simply nods, his gaze turning to assess you as you stand next to your friend.

“This is y/n,” Hwasa introduces you. “She’s actually struggling with an essay right now-”

“Hate to hear about an academic struggle,” Wonwoo interrupts, “especially while enjoying my coffee.” His eyes return to you again. “If you ever need a tutor, you should swing by the frat.”

“I would appreciate that,” you nod, a little breathless.

It’s clear there’s something off about you too- your heard rate is going faster than the average rate, and you’re finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

Ah, things click in Wonwoo’s head, this particular set of responses isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. Many girls react this way to him, getting ‘flustered,’ as humans would say.

However, what is unfamiliar, is the way Wonwoo himself is reacting to it. He finds it cute, endearing in a way- as opposed to the annoyed feeling he usually gets when women are easily infatuated with him.

“Here,” Wonwoo breathes smoothly, picking up a pen from his notepad. “Give me your hand.”

Your gaze flickers to Hwasa for a moment, and then you’re reaching forward. Wonwoo grasps your wrist, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the way you jolt from his touch. He quickly writes his phone number down on your inner palm. “Give me a call about tutoring you sometime, we can discuss details then.”

“O-okay,” you nod, immediately taking your hand back when he’s finished, cradling it close to your chest.

“If that’s all you two have to say to me,” Wonwoo breathes, looking between you and Hwasa, “I’d love to get back to my coffee.”

Three:

“Hey, I’m at the frat, where are you?” you ask as you answer your best friend’s call. You feel so awkward just standing here, trying to look like you belong even though you’re sure you stand out in the all boys frat village.

“Babes, I’m so sorry- I’m at this study group and it’s going mega late, I didn’t even realize the time and I’m across campus-”

You let out a sigh. “Are you seriously going to make me do this alone?”

“You’ll be fine!” Hwasa assures you. “Wonwoo won’t bite, it’s the daylight after all.”

She giggles, and you roll your eyes. You’re still not sure how you feel about this whole ‘demon’ thing, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid to enter a fratboy den of wolves alone.

“You’ve got this,” Hwasa says again. “If you need anything, just text me, and remember, I stalk your snapchat location so if anything happens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh. “Okay, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit!”

You hang up on Hwasa, taking a deep breath and turning to the front door. You approach cautiously, raising your hand and knocking three times.

It takes a couple of moments, but eventually, a man opens the door. You recougnize Jeonghan, he’s the frat president’s right hand man, a business major with a reputation for hitting on every girl he meets.

“Well, look who it is,” Jeonghan grins, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder while he shovels some cereal into his mouth from the bowl in his hand.

He’s in an oversized white shirt and sweatpants, you’d bet he hasn’t been to classes today- and fuck it, he looks handsome, all the SVT men do.

“Sorry, hi, I’m here for Wonwoo, but I don’t think we’ve actually met,” you say awkwardly, holding out a hand.

Jeonghan’s gaze falls to your extended palm, and he chuckles. “Wonwoo gets all the cute girls,” he says, moving away from the door frame to let you inside, “but none of them ever stick around.”

“I’m here to study,” you try to explain.

“Sure you are,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. You follow him through the entryway living space, pausing as he heads back into the connected kitchen. “Wonwoo’s room is the third floor, first door on the left.” You stand there for a few moments, and Jeonghan cocks his head to the side. “You have no clue where the stairs are, do you?”

“Nope.”

“That door,” he points with his spoon. “Don’t get lost.”

He’s a bit of an odd one, and with a final thank you, you scurry away, following his directions past a door and up three flights of stairs. You pause outside the first room on the left, swallowing thickly before you knock.

“Come in!” Wonwoo’s voice calls out.

Before you can push the door open, it opens by itself, and you half expect Wonwoo to be standing there- only to find him seated on his bed with a book in his hands.

He’s in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. His hood is up, but his dark curls are poking out, toying with the rims of glasses that set of the sharp angles of his face.

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Uh-” you cough. “Y/N.” The door opening by itself had freaked you out, and you wonder how true the whole demon thing is- God, that’s been on your mind a lot.

“Come in, relax, and tell me what I can do for you,” he instructs, using his foot to push out a chair near his bed.

You swallow thickly again, closing the door behind you and approaching. You take a seat, letting out a breath. “So basically I have an essay on Frankenstein- have you read it?”

“Of course. Have you?” he counters.

“Yeah, I’ve read it, but uh… anyways, it’s due on Halloween, which is two weeks away, and I have so many other essays to write-”

“What’s the topic?”

“Open ended.”

“How many words?”

“Five thousand.”

“That doesn’t seem very hard,” he muses with a grin, slotting a marker between his pages so he can rest his book on his chest, getting a better look at you.

“Usually it wouldn’t be, but I’m just blanking- I don’t even know where to start.” You release a stressed breath. “So I brought a family heirloom.”

Wonwoo just looks at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Hwasa said she paid you last time with her grandmothe’rs broach?” you try to explain.

“My price is different for everyone,” Wonwoo tells you, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what you brought.”

“It’s my aunt’s.” You give the necklace to him. “She got it to me to celebrate graduating highschool and getting into university.”

Wonwoo inspects the delicate silver chain, looking at the crescent moon charm with an opal in the middle. “It’s obviously valuable,” he says, handing it back to you, “but I can tell it’s not very sentimental.”

“So…” you fidget with the necklace in your palm, “what do you want?”

Wonwoo’s eyes begin to scan your form, and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable. It’s as if he’s undressing you in his mind, and it makes you fidget in your seat. His gaze lands on your chest, and you fight the urge to cover your tits-

He sits up, reaching forward- You hold your breath as his fingers brush by your collar bones, too close to the swell of your breasts for your liking- and then he’s lifting your necklace, leaning even closer to inspect it.

You can feel his breath on your skin, and he’s so close- God, why is something as simple as this so erotic? You’ve dealt with pretty boys before, but there’s something about a pretty, nerdy, dangerous boy-

“Where did you get this?” he asks, thumb smoothing across the golden heart attached to the chain on your neck.

It’s hard to find your voice, but after a moment, you’re able to respond. “It was uh- it was from my last boyfriend.”

“An ex?” His gaze lifts to you.

“Yeah.” You can feel your skin heating.

“And you didn’t get rid of it?”

“I figure I bought him a bunch of stuff while we were dating, pretty sure this was only fifty bucks or something, so I guess I thought I deserved to keep it.”

Wonwoo nods. You watch his gaze dip to your lips, just for a moment, and then he’s releasing your necklace and leaning back into his bed again. “That will work.”

“It will?” you ask in shock.

“Uh huh. There’s a certain sort of sentimentality to it. Also… even though you say you kept it because you deserved it, buying him so many things or whatever, I think it’s a shame that a pretty girl like you is still holding onto something from the past, instead of looking at your future. I’ll take it off your hands, and you can progress now, with more than just your essay.”

You wonder what sort of motive Wonwoo has, what significance a necklace from your ex actually has on a man who’s practically a stranger.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching behind your throat to undo the clasp. “So… how does this work now?”

“A five thousand word open ended essay on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” Wonwoo takes his glasses off, wiping them with his hoodie. “I guess, you give me some time to think it through, I text you, and you come see me again.”

You watch the way he puts his spectacles back onto his face- it’s shocking how small, simple, mundane motions can be so beautiful when completed by a man like him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I guess… I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You will,” he agrees. “Bye for now.”

He relaxes against his pillows, lifting his book and immediately turning his attention to it.

You stand up and leave without another word, your heart racing in your chest.

Once you’re outside the frat house, you call Hwasa.

“So how did it go?” she asks. “He didn’t kill you, so that’s good news!”

“He also didn’t want the family heirloom,” you sigh.

“So what did he want?”

“My necklace, you know, the one from my ex.”

“That’s weird, why would he want that?”

“Hell if I know,” you groan. “Hwasa… he’s not an actual demon, right?”

“Of course not!” she laughs.

You wish you were as certain as she is. There’s definitely something otherworldly about Jeon Wonwoo, and one of these days, you’re going to put your finger on exactly what is different about him from any other man you’ve ever met.

Four:

Wonwoo is standing by his window, examining the necklace in his hand. It’s such a simple little thing, but there’s so much energy tied to it. Wonwoo can see the dark aura- a tie to a past that it’s clear you’d rather forget.

Usually, Wonwoo collects items with soul ties. Family heirlooms are the easiest, as they’re connected to multiple people in different generations. When one of those people with a soul connection to the item dies, Wonwoo deams if they’re a worthy enough spirit to take as payment for his favours.

In Hwasa’s case, both of her grandparents had died recently. The grandmother had gone first, followed quickly by the grandfather, and it was the older male that Wonwoo had chosen to take for himself. His soul had been dark, a signifier of the evil in his heart when he’d been on earth.

For a demon, Wonwoo actually likes humans. He only accepts contracts that allow him to collect on bad souls, souls that he deems worthy of eternal damnation.

Many of his kind have asked him why he’d chosen a university to call home, and in simple terms, it’s because at heart, Wonwoo has an erudite flecked soul. He loves learning, more than he’s ever loved being a demon.

He got to a point in his life where he figured, if he was going to be around forever, he might as well learn everything.

Besides all that, university is easy, students come to him, he hardly had to do any work. Students are always anxious, always busy and in need of support to get work done. They hardly think of the heirloom they pawned off to a frat boy in return for an essay or a test- and since Wonwoo waits for natural deaths to collect the souls tied to the items, there’s no harm no fowl.

With all of this being said, Wonwoo’s not used to taking an item like yours. There are only two souls tied to it, your own, and your ex boyfriend’s… Wonwoo knows which one he’ll collect.

He’s not sure why he feels protective of you… there’s just something in your aura that calls to him, something he can’t explain.

He knows that this job will be different, in more ways than one, but something inside of Wonwoo is ready for the change, after all, it’s been a very long time coming.

Five:

“You’re back,” Jeonghan muses when he opens the door to the frat for you. “That’s a first.”

“Hi,” you say meekly, forcing a smile. You’re still not sure how you feel about any of this, and knowing that what Wonwoo’s doing with you is unusual doesn’t help ease your anxieties.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Jeonghan sighs, opening the door wider so you can pass. As you move by him, a hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “He’s never cooked for anyone, so, just keep that in mind.”

God, these men are so odd-

You find Wonwoo in the kitchen, his back to you. He’s in a black t-shirt and it stretches tight across his broad shoulders. His curls are a little messy, as if he’s been sleeping, and when he turns to you, you find he’s not wearing his glasses.

Why is he just as pretty without glasses as he is with glasses?

This feels unfair. This feels like- well, it shouldn’t be legal, for starters.

“Hey.” Wonwoo flashes you a smile and you just about melt. You can feel your skin heating, and you hate how your body betrays you, betrays the inner lustings that take over every time you look at this nerdy hot frat boy.

“Hi,” you respond, feeling like a complete idiot as you approach Wonwoo.

“You hungry?” He looks down at the pan in front of him. “I’ve been making steak and eggs.”

“Actually, I’m really just here about the essay,” you try to explain.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo focuses on the sunny side up egg he’s making, “Give me one sec.”

You watch him finish up his meal. You’re not used to watching a man cook, and you're surprised at how skilled he is. There’s something very attractive about the way he shovels the egg out of the pan, adding it to his plate with the finished steak.

“Okay, let’s go.” Wonwoo leads you back up to his room. He takes a seat at his work table. “You can go on the bed,” he suggests, cutting open an egg. You watch the orange yolk drip, the way he scoops some up with steak.

He’s way too attractive.

“You sure you don’t want any?” he asks. “It’s perfectly medium rare.”

“A little too rare for me,” you admit, immediately realizing your mistake. “It looks amazing, sorry, I’m just not hungry.”

“Sounds good. So let's talk your essay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to write it for you.”

“What?” It feels like the air is knocked out of your chest, and you stare at Wonwoo in confusion. “But uh… you took my necklace, and you wrote Hwasa’s essay-”

“It’s busy season.” Wonwoo waves his fork around absentmindedly. “The deal is, you come here, we work together, and when you need help, I’ll help. When you need a final edit, I’ll final edit.”

“Uh…” Your mind is spinning. “If you’re not going to help, I can really just do it myself.”

“I think we both know my help will be important,” Wonwoo points out. “Look, you’re a good girl. Don’t you want to feel like you did it yourself? When you came here the first time, I noticed you were hesitant, I don’t think this is something you’re used to doing.”

“I’m not,” you admit, shocked at his ability to read you.

“With a five thousand word count, this will only take two or three hard study sessions top, in fact, since I have my steak and eggs, we can start now.”

“I didn’t even bring my book-”

“I’ve got a copy right here.” Wonwoo spins his chair, reaching for his bookshelf. He pulls out a worn version of Frankenstein, handing it to you. “I’ve got notes in here, if you want to flip through it, I’m sure you’ll find something to inspire your essay.”

You take a deep breath.

Should you do this? Should you sit here and study with him? What was the point of giving him your necklace if he’s not going to write it for you?

“You’ll keep me on track?” you ask.

Wonwoo offers you a lopsided grin. “Uh huh.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Six:

It’s your second session with Wonwoo. You’ve been carrying his version of Frankenstein around like a bible- the notes, carefully hand written into the margins, are so insightful and inspiring. At this point, you’ve reread the whole book just to get a chance to understand Wonwoo’s musings on every page.

You feel alight with determination, and your thoughts feel focused- you’re as focused with Wonwoo as you’ve ever been, which feels odd given how distracting he is.

It’s intimate in a way, to be so close to him, doing your own work while sharing a space-

Your phone buzzes, breaking your concentration.

Wonwoo looks up at you, pausing his reading. “Who’s that, your boyfriend?”

You let out a small laugh. “Just Hwasa checking in on me to make sure I’m okay with our tutoring session, you’ve got a reputation you know.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo grins, resting his book on his abdomen.

“Uh huh, people say you’re a demon or something. Apparently coming here for help with school is a deal with the devil.”

Wonwoo laughs. “That’s definitely a theory. What do you think?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite sure,” you admit. “All I know is, you’re helping me with this essay, and that’s what matters.”

“You know how you can check if I’m a demon?” Wonwoo asks.

“How?”

“Come touch my head, see if there are any horns.”

Wonwoo is giving you a challenging look, and for some reason, you can’t resist.

You put your laptop to the side, sitting up. “Really?”

“Like I said, only one way to find out if I’m a demon.”

You move toward him, standing off the bed to approach where he’s seated at his desk. “Honestly… maybe this isn’t the best idea. I trust you, I don’t have to feel your head for horns.”

“I really wish you would though,” Wonwoo counters, and there’s a serious edge to his tone. His eyes are bright, looking up at you. It’s like you’re suspended in time and space, staring at each other, holding your breaths.

You reach toward his head, in the back of your mind, you’re worried he might bite you- but Wonwoo stays perfectly still. He watches your every movement, and soon, your fingers are smoothing through his curls.

Wonwoo holds back a groan at the feeling of your touch. He wants to lean in toward you, but doesn’t want to scare you off. It’s clear to him from your body language that you’re as hesitant about this as you had been when you’d first come to him for help with your essay.

You’re so soft, so pure, and he loves it.

He can hear your heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you smooth around his head, searching for horns.

God, humans are so gullible, but it’s adorable when it’s you being this way.

“Okay, no horns,” you confirm, tearing your hand back like you’ve just been burned.

You turn away, returning to his bed, and Wonwoo can practically feel the heat coming off of you.

“Get back to work,” he says softly, loving the way he gets to sneak looks at you while you’re deep in thought.

This arrangement is too perfect- Wonwoo hates that it will soon be coming to an end. You’ve been very productive, and as much as he’d like to take credit for it, it’s your own doing.

In some odd way, he’s proud of you, and it’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced before.

Seven:

You can’t believe it’s your final session with your ‘tutor’. The amount you’ve gotten done in two separate days with Wonwoo is ridiculous-

He’s your lucky charm, and it’s odd how much someone can come to mean to you in such a short time.

“Okay,” you sigh, finishing your last line of work. “I’m done.”

“Time for edits then,” Wonwoo responds, slotting a bookmark into what he’s reading before descarding the novel on his sidetable. He approaches you, sitting onto the bed. He’s so close that you can feel his shoulder against yours. He’s so warm, in the best of ways.

He’s reading over your shoulder, and you can feel his breath on your skin. God, this closeness is doing something to you- your pussy is actually beginning to throb, and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

“Here.” You hand your laptop over to him, watching anxiously as he begins to read your essay from the top.

You’re so focused on him- each second feels like an eternity as he makes his way through your writing, discussing small edits with you as he goes through it.

“This is good,” Wonwoo muses, making it all the way to the end. “You did really well, and with two days to spare. I’m proud of you.”

“Guess I don’t have to be stressed for Halloween,” you grin, releasing a deep breath.

“Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, if nothing else, we throw a great frat party, you’re more than welcome to come.”

“You know what?” You stretch your arms above your head, releasing a deep breath. “I might just stop by.”

Eight:

Wonwoo’s walking through campus when he senses something- and that something can only ever be you. He’s become accustomed to your aura, and his gaze immediately finds you, heading across the green with a friend by your side.

Your eyes meet, and Wonwoo flashes you a smile, not expecting anything to come of it.

He’s surprised when you approach, calling his name. “Wonwoo! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hey,” he grins, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. He wishes he could be more subtle about his attraction to you, but by the way you take him in, it’s clear that it’s not something that’s one sided.

“Yeji, this is the tutor I was telling you about! He helped me finish my essay in three sessions.”

“It was really more like two,” Wonwoo corrects you, then his eyes find your friend. “She did all the work, believe me.”

“Yeah, after I read your notes on the book,” you grin. “He’s not even an English major, but he picks up more details in novels than I ever could.”

Wonwoo’s not used to compliments like this, especially not from pretty girls. Most just accept his work and figure their payment was a job well done enough. He doesn’t even know how to respond, and for a demon of his age, this sort of thing never happens.

You’re so pure and sweet- God, he likes you so much. But there’s something beneath the attraction, there’s a want- a want to corrupt you, a want to see how far you’ll go for him, how dirty you’ll be just for him.

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, finding a way to divert the attention away from himself.

You and Yeji exchange a look, and it’s your friend who nods. “We’ll be there.”

Nine:

You don’t go to frats often, but your attraction to Wonwoo drives you through the front doors of the packed house. Everyone is dressed accordingly, and you take a moment just to appreciate the ambiance. Sure, it’s sweaty, and overwhelming, and the flashing lights are a bit much, but it feels like a community, in some sort of odd way.

You’re heading through the crowd of bodies with Hwasa when someone grabs your arm, and you’re shocked to find Jeonghan standing there. He’s dressed as a zombie of some sort, and despite the fake grime on his face, he’s still very handsome.

“Hey, repeat offender,” he grins, leaning close so you can hear him over the loud music.

“Repeat offender?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re Wonwoo’s chick now, our little repeat offender.” He’s charming, in an interesting sort of way. “Bet you’re looking for him.”

“Is he around?”

“He’s the dickhead in the oni mask, making a drink in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.”

You follow Jeonghan’s directions, approaching the kitchen. It’s as full of bodies as you’ve ever seen it, but despite that, finding Wonwoo is easy.

He’s tall, and even with his back to you, you’d recougnize his shoulders anywhere.

“So how are you doing this?” Hwasa asks.

“I’m just going to go talk to him.”

“Do you need backup?”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo again, and you find a smile appearing on your face. “Honestly, I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need anything, just scream ‘hamburger’.”

“Why?”

“It’s my safe word,” Hwasa teases, flashing you a wink before she disappears into the crowd of people dancing.

You take a deep breath, mustering your courage to approach the hot nerd.

You move toward him slowly, coming to a stop at his side. You don’t even have to say anything, he notices you immediately, turning to assess you.

His handsome face is covered with an oni mask, and it’s a little more frightening than you’d been anticipating, especially with his wild dark curls. Oni are Japanese demons, it has horns and fangs-

“Hi,” he says, and you can hardly hear him from under the mask.

“You’re really leaning into the whole demon thing, aren’t you?” you force a laugh.

You hear Wonwoo chuckle, and then he’s pulling the oni mask off. “Are you more comfortable now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Actually, I think I’d also be more comfortable with a drink.”

“How much have you had already?”

“Just had a bit of a pre with Hwasa, why?”

“I guess…” he faces you, crossing his large arms over his broad chest, “when I make a move on you tonight, since our arrangement is done, I want to make sure you reciprocate, sound of mind.”

You look up at him in shock, unable to find any words with which to respond.

Wonwoo grins when you remain dumbfounded for a few seconds. “You’re cute.”

“I am?”

“More than you realize.”

“And you’re… you’re going to make a move on me?”

“Was thinking about it.”

“What would the move look like?”

“Should I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?”

God, why is he so hot? Why does he always know what to say? And why does his smirk look extra sexy with his slightly pointed canines? Why haven’t you realized his teeth were pointy before? You suppose he doesn’t smile enough for you to have picked up on details, but now, you’re looking at him, unhindered by shyness and limits of a tutor/semi-student relationship.

Wonwoo pulls you closer by your hips, staring down at you. “I’m going to need a verbal answer, Sweetheart.”

“Show me,” you tell him.

Wonwoo’s grin widens, and one of his hands moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone, and it’s such a loving motion- it’s as if the entire frat party disappears around you. You’re so focused on him that you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo moves closer, and you an feel his breath on your face. His lips are incredibly close, so close you could kiss him yourself- but you stay frozen, waiting on him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks teasingly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

He chuckles, and then, he presses his lips to your own, cradling you even closer with the hand on your cheek. His other palm finds the small of your back, tugging you to his chest. You find your grip going to his shoulders, exploring the muscles you’ve been thirsting over.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open wider to accept him in, a small groan slipping out of you.

God, he’s such a good kisser- you’re completely lost in him.

In the periphery, music is thrumming through you, but it’s muffled, disappearing as you fall deeper under the spell of Wonwoo’s kiss.

Things are getting hot and heavy fast, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed that you’re making out with Wonwoo while surrounded by people, besides, something tells you they won’t care.

You can feel something on your lower abdomen, a pressure- and you realize that just kissing you has made Wonwoo hard in his jeans.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on that you can hardly breathe. You break the kiss, gasping. “Your room?”

“Not right now,” comes his immediate response.

“What?” You can’t help the way you feel crushed at the rejection-

“Not with the party,” Wonwoo clarifies. “I want to take my time with you, want you to be comfortable- having people fucking around outside my room while I’m exploring you isn’t my idea of a great first time.”

“That actually makes sense,” you concede.

“But… I’m okay to keep doing this,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then his mouth begins to move down to your throat, his tongue tasting your sweet spot.

You release a moan, wrapping your arms around the tall nerd. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.”

Ten:

Wonwoo carefully walks to the kitchen, avoiding spilled liquor on the floor from the party the night before. He’s so focused on his footsteps that he almost doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s aura until he’s right next to him.

The frat boy is sitting on the kitchen counter, eating his cereal. “So…” Jeonghan muses with a grin, “that girl, huh?”

“What girl?” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “The one you were making out with at the party for hours. You know, the one that keeps coming here for ‘tutoring.’”

“I helped her with an essay.”

“Sure you did.” Jeonghan pushes off the kitchen counter. “It’s cute, our resident demon has a heart.”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing that Jeonghan might be onto something, but he’ll never admit it out loud. “No, I don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Eleven:

“Well look who it is,” Jeonghan grins as he opens the door to the frat. You wonder why it’s always him, why no one else is ever hanging around the living room, but you decide it’s best not to dwell on it.

“Hi,” you smile softly.

“Guessing you know where to go,” Jeonghan muses, opening the door wider so you can enter.

With one more nod to the frat boy, you make your way to Wonwoo’s room.

You knock on the door, and like the very first time you’d been here, it swings open with ease. Wonwoo’s sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He’s wearing his glasses, and he looks so sexy like this, so domestic-

“Happy November,” Wonwoo says.

You laugh. “Happy November.” You close the door behind yourself, standing there awkwardly. You know what you’re here for, know what you want from him now that your essay is complete- “You’re not practicing, you know, No Nut November, or anything, are you?”

Wonwoo laughs, setting his book down on his bedside table along with his glasses. “No, I’m not practicing No Nut November.”

“Good.”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Get over here.”

You make your way to the bed, sitting carefully next to him. “What were you reading?”

“Dante’s Inferno,” he responds casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be reading poetry from the thirteen hundreds.

“Wow,” you laugh, “that definitely pushes the whole demon angle.”

“I’m a deal maker, Sweetheart, the whole demon thing is overdone.” He wraps his arm around you, prompting you to cuddle up to his chest.

“And yet, your door opens on its own,” you point out.

“And?”

“As crazy as this sounds…” you take a deep breath, “I guess I’m wondering if there’s any… legitimacy to the whole demon thing.”

“How would you feel if there was?” he counters.

“I suppose I wouldn’t believe it, not really.”

“Then what’s the point in asking?”

“Maybe there’s no point.” You look up at him, marveling at his handsome features.

“So kiss me and forget about it,” he prompts, his fingers finding the bottom of your chin and making you look up at him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, closing the gap between your lips.

He holds you tighter as your lips mesh, half pulling you onto his chest as his tongue explores your own. God, he still feels so good- part of you had wondered if you’d been a little tipsy the last time you kissed him, and that’s why it had felt so good- but no, this is just Wonwoo, this is just the power he has over you.

You adjust so you’re straddling him, his hands finding your hips to encourage you while you cup his face, enjoying the feeling.

You begin to wiggle, grinding down softly onto him. His cock is already hardening in his sweatpants- you love how easy it is to turn him on. It does wonders for your ego as you dry hump him, beginning to moan at the sensation on your clit.

You’re not usually this type of person, not the mega-sexual, but something about Wonwoo is making you feral. It helps that you both know why you’re here- helps that he’d rescheduled this fuck session so you wouldn’t be having your first time with a wild Halloween rager just outside his door.

Things are just comfortable with him, it’s clear you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and that turns you on even more.

One of his hands begins to glide up from your waist, skimming the underwire of your bra. You move his palm even further up, so he’s grasping your breast, and he squeezes deliciously, earning a soft moan from your lips.

Wonwoo grins into your kiss, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you even closer as he massages your chest.

You grind harder onto his cock, loving the feeling-

One flip has Wonwoo on top of you, and you whimper at the change in power dynamics. He moves his hips fluidly, applying more pressure to your already throbbing clit-

Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, looking down at you with dark eyes. “So do I need to grab a condom, Sweetheart?”

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah.” You lean closer, eagerly pressing your lips to his again. You’re so lost in him, nothing else matters.

Wonwoo’s hands begin to explore you again, and then he pulls away to tug on your shirt. “Off.”

You sit up, removing the fabric, exposing your bra to him.

Wonwoo looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so pretty, Sweetheart.” His fingers tease the strap of your bra. “How’d a pretty little thing like you ever find your way to me?”

“The essay-”

“You’re so innocent though, I could tell from the moment I met you. You wouldn’t have come to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“No, I don’t cheat.”

“And you still don’t, you did the whole essay yourself.”

“With help from you,” you blush.

“No, Sweetheart, it was all you.” Wonwoo kisses you again, shutting up any argument you have about using his notes.

He makes you feel so good- it’s such a safe space, and it’s the type of situation you’re not used to. The lack of judgement, the complete support- it helps you relax, helps you get even further lost in his kiss as you make out, the both of you wriggling and grinding against each other. You love the feeling of his body, the feeling of being here with him, completely enraptured mind and soul.

Wonwoo’s lips trail down to your throat, and he begins to descend. He reaches your chest, and you breathe heavily, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

His fingers hook in the cup of your bra, and he pauses to look up at you, as if he’s asking for your permission. “Do it,” you tell him, trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo grins, pulling your bra down so he can access your tits fully. His tongue flicks at your sensitive nipple, and you groan at the sensation, arching your back to push your chest closer to his face.

Wonwoo’s lips suction around the sensitive bud next, and God, it feels amazing.

Your pussy is practically throbbing- can women cum from breast stimulus alone? You might find out if he keeps this up.

His hands cup your tits, pushing them together, and then he begins to lick at both of your nipples, switching from one to the other in a pace that has you grabbing his hair, whimpering in desperation.

You feel like you’re on fire- you feel alive, writhing on this hot nerd’s bed. It feels dirty, but it feels so right too.

He continues on your breasts for a short while, until you’re good and needy, then he makes his way to your jeans.

“I want you naked,” he tells you.

“Then get me naked,” you counter, still breathless.

With a wink, Wonwoo pulls your jeans down, and you work on your bra. Soon, you’re completely naked from him, and unlike other times you’ve gotten with men, you don’t feel an ounce of shame.

This feels so right, and as Wonwoo begins kissing up your thighs, prompting your legs open, you just know that sex is never going to be the same.

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours as he takes a lick of your pussy, and you both groan. His lips suction around your clit and your muscles spasm. He pulls away with a grin, breath hot on your aching core. “So wet already,” he muses.

“I need you,” you whimper.

“You have me,” he promises, diving back into your heat.

He doesn’t hold anything back. He eats you like you’re the most delicious fruit in the world, like your pussy juices are a nectar he needs for life itself.

You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you’re a little shocked at the speed of all of this, however, you suppose the foreplay had done a number on you as well.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, abdomen tensing.

“Cum for me,” he breathes heavily against your clit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.”

His lips wrap around your clit again, and two more harsh sucks are all it takes to send you over the edge. You gasp desperately, entire body tensing before the moment of your release.

Hot waves of pleasure erupt over your form, all consuming. You can hardly breathe, can only gasp in ecstasy as he works you through your high.

You’re not sure how long your orgasm lasts, only that you’re out of breath and brain dead by the time Wonwoo pulls away.

You can hardly open your eyes to look up at him as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are so full of lust- and for the first time, he looks truly demonic. But you’re not scared, you’re intrigued, in the best possible way.

“Fuck me,” you tell him quietly.

Wonwoo grins, and his canines flash in the light. “You got it, Sweetheart.”

He grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it off his head to reveal chiseled chest muscles. He’s got more of a sleeper build- the kind of guy you wouldn’t expect to be muscled, except that under layers of fabric, he’s actually sculpted by the Gods.

You can hardly breathe as he pulls his sweatpants down, and you’re practically drooling by the time he gets back on top of you, his lips hot against your own.

You cup the back of his neck, kissing him desperately, wiggling your hips, eager for stimulation.

Wonwoo concedes, rutting so his cock drags through your drenched pussy lips.

Neither of you say anything, you keep lip locked as he finally pushes into you. You both release gasps of pleasure, breathing the kiss to press your foreheads together as he sheaths further inside of you.

You open your eyes, looking up at Wonwoo, who meets your gaze with a fierceness that sets your insides on fire.

He’s so beautiful- you’d checked his head for horns, but you can almost see an outline of demonic features- you must be dreaming, must be so lost in him that you’re seeing things. You close your eyes, drawing your lips to his again as he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust his hard, the tip of his long cock kissing your cervix. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling becomes pleasurable much too quickly. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, clawing at his broad shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he tells you.

“No, your cock feels good,” you correct him.

“Agree,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “to disagree.”

You laugh, and Wonwoo groans at the way your giggle makes your muscles clench even tighter around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep breath.

He pulls away suddenly, and he flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips to lift you into the air. He positions your knees together, so you’re in doggy, and then he pushes himself back into your aching hole.

Shit- things feel even tighter in this positon, and you claw at his bed, burying your face in his duvet as he plows into you. His grip is rough on your hips, but you don’t even care- if Wonwoo continues to give you cock like this, he could do anything he wanted to you, any position, and you wouldn’t mind.

Each snap of his hips sends the sound of skin on skin through his room, but that’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned about the fact that you can feel another orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, and your pussy is clenching even tighter around him now.

“You’re close again, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper.

“Rub your clit for me,” he instructs. “Wanna feel it.”

You adjust, bringing your fingers to your sensitive bud. You begin to stoke yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out as he rails into you.

Wonwoo shifts, bringing one knee up so his foot is flat on the bed, giving himself better manueverabilty to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing your hips. “Make me cum.”

The knowledge that your high will set off his own makes you even more eager to please him, and you rub your clit even harder, whimpering desperately.

Wonwoo lets out a grunt, and the sound is music to your ears. How is he so sexy? When did a man grunting become sexy?

Fuck, you work yourself even harder, and Wonwoo matches your enthusiasm with his thrusts, his hands pulling your hips back to meet him with each motion.

“I’m close-” you tell him, your pussy gripping him so hard-

“Let go for me,” he responds. “Need to feel it.”

A few more circular motions on your clit has you exploding, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down hard on his cock. Your entire body is alight, muscles working overtime as you contract around him.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his pace faltering as he cums inside you, filling you with a warmth that makes you spasm beneath him.

You continue to moan as he fucks you through your highs until you’re both breathless. You can feel him breathing on your back, can feel each puff-

Your own chest is heaving with effort, your eyes closed as the last inklings of euphoria sparkle through you.

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your hips gently, and neither of you have anything to say as you recuperate.

Finally, Wonwoo gently traces your spine with a finger. “I’m going to pull out,” he tells you. “Grab you a tissue.”

“Okay.” You nod against his bed, still too blurry from your orgasm to think too hard about anything.

The loss of his cock from your aching hole is one you feel everywhere, and you whimper, cupping your pussy to stop any cum from dripping onto his bed.

Wonwoo returns quickly, moving your hand so he can press tissue to your core. “Give it a sec, and when you’re ready we can put on some clothes and head to the bathroom.”

You stay on your knees for a few more seconds before mustering your energy. When you’re finally able to stand, Wonwoo helps you up. He pulls sweatpants up your legs, followed by a hoodie to cover your bare chest.

Then, he takes your hand, guiding you to the bathroom where you both clean up.

Everything is a blur until you get back to his bedroom, where you collapse onto the mattress against his chest, eyes closed.

Wonwoo’s hand smooths up and down your arm. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you respond.

“I’ve gotta tell you something.”

You can hear the seriousness in his tone, and you force your eyes open, looking up at him questioningly.

“I was going to wait-” Wonwoo admits, “it’s something I’ve never told anyone, not in so many words at least.” You wait for him to continue. “The whole demon thing… there’s some truth to it.”

“But… I checked for horns?” you say, confused.

“We don’t have horns, Sweetheart. We’re deal makers. You gave me your necklace, it has a soultie to your ex, one day, I’m going to drag that asshole to hell.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Sure you are, Wonwoo.”

“You don’t believe me,” he muses, lifting your hand so he can kiss your knuckles gently.

“I told you I wouldn’t, so what does it even matter?”

“I just wanted to start things right,” he confesses. “Wanted to do this right.”

“This?” you counter, grinning up at him.

“Us. I want to give it a shot, if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested,” you admit. “But… I think, right now, I just need a little sleep.”

“Then sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and with a smile and a deep breath, you finding yourself drifting into the most blissful sleep of your life. Demon or not, Wonwoo makes you feel protected, and that’s not something you’ll ever take lightly.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love Wonwoo!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “You look so good like this, Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Being so good for me, so corruptible-” He has a bit of a corruption kink, but he’s never forced it on you. No, he’d shown you his toys, and allowed you to choose the pace on everything. You feel so comfortable with him, and it allows you to fully connect with yourself and your pleasure.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of sex toys, flogger, vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, breast worship, nipple clamps, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praise, soft dom Wonwoo, fingering, slight pain kink, etc… I petnames. (hers) Sweetheart.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of dating Wonwoo, and you’ve realized the whole demon thing is completely real. It was an adjustment at first, but he’d explained everything about it. There are certain demons who do the darker stuff, but Wonwoo truly considers himself a deal maker above all else. He doesn’t kill, even though, with his power, he could.

No, he’s a mellow demon, if there is such a thing.

It’s an opposites attract type of situation, and Wonwoo’s spent countless nights admiring your aura, discussing what it is exactly that makes you the light Yin to his dark Yang. He loves you for all of your differences, and you’ve never felt more comfortable with a person- or, should you say, demon.

He’s an ageless man with a thirst for knowledge, and you’re so attracted to his deep understanding of all things literate or scientific. You find yourself constantly learning new knowledge from him, and every day you spend together is a dream you never could have even wished for.

Aside from all the educational learning experiences you have with Wonwoo, you’ve also begun to explore his sexual knowledge, and it’s a journey you never thought you’d find yourself on.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

svt taglist

@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird

@xcynthiaaa

thanks to those who interacted with the teaser!

@syluslittlecrows - @wonuskie - @icedearlgreytea - @9900z

@noiceoofed - @amazinggraxia - @renatojr - @xenkimmie

@ollieollieoctopus - @superassh - @xueisaaa17 - @julia5761

@drunkscoups - @iaypark-blog - @wonustars - @moonbebe

@chanichanvhan - @acolytees - @yeomyeom - @bobathi

@generalkpopwhore -

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo #svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #svt #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo svt #svt wonwoo #svt wonwoo smut #wonwoo svt smut

2K notes · View notes