#he look like an idol in that white costume

[ikeprinces-stuff]

My reaction to this was :

[nachojaehyun]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© nachojaehyun, 2024.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Maid-up problems (Konig x maid!Reader)

Konig goes to a maid cafe. Billions must perish. Tags and CW: yandere Konig, obsessive and creepy behaviour, Konig is a bit of a perv, colonel loser Konig, maids and maid cafes, general fluff, slight age difference, slight size difference, mostly from Konig's pov. AO3

— Welcome home, master. What your maid I get for you today, hm? König just died and went to heaven. Heaven consists of pretty girls running around in fluffy skirts, little aprons and putting on adorable headbands with white ruffles. Heaven filled with the smell of reheated pastries and pre-made snacks, with neutral sweet perfume and the stench of sweat from the customers. Heaven is filled with angels who run around in maid costumes and call him master – and all of this without going through the hassle of finding a cosplay-friendly prostitute in Vienna.

He honestly rolled his eyes the first time he saw the post about a new maid cafe opening in town. Horangi was the one to show him - the bastard didn’t even live in Austria and yet had followed all the news, maybe to only make fun of his colonel. He knows that the tiger has his dirty secrets too – ido girls, idol boys, some new band every week that he’d spend his paycheck to get all possible merch. Changing his gambling addiction to a k-pop one – all while his glorious commander is going crazy from the new maid hentai he just watched. Honestly embarrassing at his age…but he doesn’t care. He has money for the exclusive translations and elite figures – and he has some time on leave to visit the damn maid cafe. Then König meets you. He died, went to heaven and was greeted with an angel…no, a goddess. In a frilly apron, short skirt and adorable, albeit a bit embarrassed smile. You had your persona on – dorky and clumsy, useless little maid that customers liked to scold when you’d almost drop their drinks and then fake cry while apologizing. Some sadistic bastards like to play pretend by calling your manager while you’d beg for them not to. Some perverts with a hero complex would play into your pleads. König stares in awe as you drop the menu accidentally, not forgetting to show off your cleavage as you pick it up. Brushing it off with your finger, looking so tiny and shy…god, he fucking adores you already. — S…so sorry, master. Please, forgive me for dropping the- — It’s okay. Don’t worry, ja? 

He reaches for your hand, but you shoo it away. No touching – the cafe policy, as dumb as it sounds. He knows it’s for your own good, to protect you from perverts and creeps – but you shouldn’t be so scared about touching him. He would have to train you to do this after. nothing that a few touches of a good military discipline wouldn’t fix though – and he is very good at breaking down dumb recruits and annoyingly stubborn people. Oh. Right. He still kinda has to order. His gaze immediately flicks to the most expensive thing on the menu – an exclusive dessert, probably too sweet for his tastes. He will have to make do though – there isn’t much on the menu, certainly is zero alcohol so drunk guests wouldn’t harass the maid girls, and a tiny portion of an omelet with some ketchup hearts squeezed all over it certainly isn’t to his tastes either. No, König had his eyes – covered by glasses, of course, he didn’t want to show off his scars and the expression of a serial killer forced to work in mercenary forces to cute girls in ruffled aprons – on a different prize. You. 

And the exclusive photos and a hug from any waitress of the fine establishment that would come with this overpriced order. 

König has never seen the manager of this cafe, but he is ready to give them all money he has – just for implementing this feature into the menu. Just for selling off their girls to any customer who is willing to pay almost 50 Euros for a piece of a pretty regular cake and some coffee. 

You stare at his order for a few seconds, your mouth going agape. He is not hurt – it was weird, after all, for a guy like him to order something as silly as this. You’re probably weirded out, thinking that he accidentally put his finger on the order – but you know better than to ask again and risk him changing his mind. Your cafe gives off bonuses if guests want to take a picture with you so, naturally, you’re all smiles and nods, tilting your head to the side as you say, ever-so-sweetly, that you’d be back with his order. Now…is König ashamed of liking the pretty little maid so much? Not really, to be completely honest, he kinda adores having you around, and he’d pay even more for the opportunity to touch you. Too bad your cafe isn’t a front for some other body business – he’d be happy to raid it on the part of special forces and then save you from such a gruesome fate by making you his wife. 

König wonders if your cafe has themed days. Maybe catgirls, cosplay, maybe housewives. 

König wonders if he can get your number. Then his gaze falters to the reflection of his face in the screen of his phone – and, no, not going to happen. Not when he is fresh out of deployment, barely showered, and thrown a clean hoodie on which does very little to cover the smell of blood clinging to his body. It’s his cross to bear – his victims scratching at his ankles as the colonel sips on complimentary water from a pink glass and looks at all the other losers who coming to this fine establishment. 

You’re lucky it’s a slow day – if König saw you being so sweet and touchy with some other lousy customer, he might have shot the whole place up. Master does not tolerate his silly servant being so nice to others, after all. 

— Your coffee, master. 

He whips out a stack of bills already, way more than what he was supposed to pay even with the exclusive offer he ordered. Your mouth opens to stop him, to remind him of the actual price of everything – then he breaks whatever good intentions you had when he starts to speak, his voice muffled a bit because of his black surgical mask. 

— Do you have a boyfriend? 

Oh. 

Now, under normal circumstances, you’d yell for the manager to come and pick you up. You’d scream bloody murder and alert other girls and clients that you’re having a bad customer who is going into harassment mode very quickly – asking such personal questions at this place is something that shouldn’t be happening, no sir. Totally not happening. 

But…the work has been a bit slow lately. You didn’t get as many bonuses as you wanted to, and the rent is coming up, and the phone bill is getting more expensive…sometimes you just got unlucky and his a streak of customers not liking your particular archetype – so if this weird dude who is totally killing people in his spare time wants a bit more than usual service and is definitely ready to pay for it. 

You might have had a thing for guys in masks. Big, muscular guys in masks who looks like they can choke you with their thighs and then fucking destroy you. With money who can get you a bit closer to your savings goal. So, you’re not calling your manager, your friends, or the police. So, you play into the fantasy for a little bit, remembering all the acts your supervisors drilled into your head. — Of course I don’t, master. I’m here for you, remember? You smile and nod, hoping it will be enough. Hoping a guy like him could be satisfied with something as silly as this, something as tiny. You touch his hand a bit later, making sure to hold him for a while longer. A simple trick to enhance the amount of tip you can get – even tho you feel like playing with fire when you touch this guy so sweetly. 

And, oh, König is…done for. Smitten. Shot right in the heart through his cock, somehow. This man survived battle after battle, destroyed more small countries than there is letters in his real name, but he was defeated by a pretty girl in a maid outfit in a cafe made for incels and otaku wannabees. If any of his lower officers saw him right now, with ears and cheeks burning angry red, with his heavy breathing and obvious, but concealed by table hard-on, he would be done for. 

But, oh god, aren’t you just beautiful? 

Obviously embarrassed and maybe a bit shy – he thinks it’s probably just your persona, a way to milk tips from the customers who like to play dominant, but König doesn’t even need to play. He knows he’d have to take you by the end of your shift, whatever this time might be. He is not the best person for the romance job, but he’ll be damned if he let a pretty thing like you just run away like a silly girl you are. 

— Can I have your phone number? You want to say no, he can’t have your phone number. The guy smells of gunpowder and blood, looks like he is going to shoot the entire venue down if you disagree with him, and you do not want to die like a hero for a job that pays barely above minimum wage for the amount of public humiliation you have to endure to ensure good tips. The guy smells like danger and a bad time and a long conversation with your manager about the types of guests that they allow into this fine establishment. 

You want to say no and yell but, then again, there are multiple factors that are screaming against such rush decisions. A huge chunk of money he still has in his valet is, embarrassingly enough, one of the biggest decision-making points. — We’re not really allowed to give our phone numbers, master… His hand goes to his pocket. 

You’re not sure if he is touching his cock, his gun, or another stack of bills right now – but all of the options are kinda making you want to die before you can check your answers. It’s going to be bad either way, so you tilt your head to the side, trying to look as innocent as possible. 

— But I can make an exception! 

He actually startles, looking at you like you just agreed to marry him. You probably would, with enough bullet threats – but you still bite your tongue, not wanting to give the crazy guy an idea. You actually don’t know if he is crazy or not – but taking your chances isn’t something you want to do on a nice Monday dead work day. 

You can see relief in his eyes. A little wrinkles of smile, too – his mouth is covered by a mask, but you’re almost sure he is grinning like an idiot under this thing. Oh no…you just insulted a customer in your mind. It’s really bad for business. 

You write your number down and pass it right to his hand without anyone noticing…you hoped so, at least – you don’t want other customers to order the same special treatment and you know that the manager would have your head for overstepping the rules so much. No one would care that you’re saving this fucked up place from a massacre – they would only care about arbitrary rule-breaking. You lick your lips and smile as his hand lingers on you a bit too long. 

His hands are big and warm, too – you’re getting lost in the touch, as he carefully caresses the back of your palm with his thumb. He is…surprisingly tender. As much as a killing machine can be tender, of course – but you do appreciate a softer, milder touch. You do appreciate his hands on your body, caressing it softly and maybe even leaning you for a kiss and a quick…

Oh god, what are you thinking. You need to stop, immediately. 

He pulls from his table suddenly and you almost feel like you fucked up, somehow. Maybe he did wanted something a big more than what you were willing to give, maybe this guy wanted you in a way that was not friendly for the cafe – but he swoops you by your waist before you could say anything before your hands could go upright and smack him – and you stop right before hearing him saying the dreadful words. The words you wished he wouldn’t have enough money to say. 

God, this is hopeless. 

— Can I get my special offer now? 

König makes it sound like the special offer would include you on your knees, choking on his cock. König makes it sound like it would include you on your back, taking pounding from him while he tugs on your dumb apron and tells you to cry for your master. König makes it sound like the short skirt of your outfit was not covering you enough, he makes it sound perverted, horrible, utterly despicable, he makes it sound like…

God, he doesn’t have enough self-control for you. 

You just…look so scared. Nervous. You play with the fabric of your costume in your hands as the other maid – some faceless pretty thing for him, with his eyes glued to your side anyway – was making pictures. Polaroid, is overpriced for a couple of photos he will get…but he doesn’t care if he has to blow off an entire contract bonus if that means getting some bonus from you. 

He gets to hold your waist and it’s so easily to imagine digging his fingers to your sides as he fucks you with as much passion as he could gather. It’s easy to imagine his cock pumping into you, your tummy bulging from the sheer size difference between you and him – poor thing, you’d probably be terrified as he would force himself onto you. Maybe you’d clutch your little apron adorably and beg for him to stop. Maybe you’d ask him to be rougher and more passionate – to make you his in all sorts of ways. He just…he can’t imagine not taking you home after this. 

He hugged you, it’s basically a marriage proposal already. 

You try your best to ignore the way his hand slips down, almost to the point of groping your ass. You ignore it, the girl who is taking the pictures ignores it too. No one wants a scandal, no one wants to point this out – everyone knows how tips are made here, and you sure as hell won’t be putting yourself in danger just because you feel his giant hand fondling you through the fabric of your silly dress. You forgot the protective shorts too - so there is only a matter of underwear and skirt between his hand and your ass. 

Somehow, the sensation isn’t as terrible as you want it to be. Somehow, you feel like tips aren’t the only thing that keeps you from screaming at him. 

König died and went to heaven – this much is obvious. He is taking a picture with a pretty girl, he touches a pretty girl in maid's suit and she doesn’t even say anything to him. He just went out from a successful contract that would keep his pockets full for a few months and went straight for his savings, and he killed more people than the last week – god, life is fucking beautiful. He fondles your ass with his hand, other is awkwardly limp to his side, and he already knows that he will be a regular here. 

He hates getting his pictures taken – it’s normal for people in his line of work, being a mercenary and a socially active person isn’t something wise if you don’t want an enemy finding out where you live, but he doesn’t really care anymore – he will keep the pictures with you, hold it in his wallet and put a spare one in his vest pocket. You can be his little guardian angel, the pretty girl who is waiting for him to return. 

And he does have your number with him. 

— Are you happy with the pictures, master? 

You tilt your head and König forces down the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you. They way you say this, the way you call him master – he simply can’t resist, not when you’re too fucking adorable to miss out on. He knows it’s inappropriate, he knows you’re just working here, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving a hefty tip and making sure you know exactly what made him leave so much. 

God, he can’t wait to make you his. 

König wonders if you’d agree to wear a skimpier outfit once you’re at the safety of his house. 

[star-sim]

hopeless ☆ heeseung lee

☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!

Heeseung Lee was stressed. 

No. He was distraught. 

Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.

Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween. 

From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back. 

Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?

"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.

"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."

Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.

"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."

Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct. 

Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush. 

With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.

Wrong!

Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.

Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.

If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red. 

In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?

"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."

"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."

His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."

At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.

"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."

"Shhhh! Shut up!"

When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.

Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.

"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"

It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!

Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.

"Yeah, why?"

"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."

Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.

"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.

"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"

Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him. 

"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"

"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."

"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on. 

Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."

It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.

When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.

"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"

"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."

The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"

"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."

That still didn't answer Heeseung's question. 

"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.

Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."

Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."

"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"

"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.

"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.

Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]." 

The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.

When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.

Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.

Heeseung was going to pass out. 

"Hey, Heeseung?"

That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.

"Heeseung?"

Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.

"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.

At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.

While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.

"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"

He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...

Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.

Oh my god, he was going to die.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.

You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"

Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.

He was really hopeless.

hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow

It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.

Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.

hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow

It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.

jay: you'll be fine trust

Heeseung frowned.

hee: stop lying to me

hee: you know how i am around her

jay: i believe in you

jay: like srsly

hee: that's blind faith

Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.

'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.

hee: are you being fr right now

jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time

jay: read the article btw

How was this guy an actual person?

hee: kill yourself

jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier

hee: DIE

Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.

At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.

Until someone yanked him into the classroom.

"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.

Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."

Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.

"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."

"Right-" 

Sumin cut him off, too.

"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."

Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"

Sumin and Sieun shared a look.

"You are completely hopeless."

As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.

As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you. 

"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile. 

Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."

"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.

"Y-Yeah...."

"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"

He's going to faint.

When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.

"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse. 

You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"

Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?

"Is that... K-Keroppi?"

"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"

Hee?

OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.

You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"

"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."

"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"

"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."

Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"

Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.

Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."

You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"

"How?"

It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!

You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."

You? Look bad? Impossible.

"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."

You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.

"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"

He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.

You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?

When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.

"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."

If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.

"A s-sweetheart?"

"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."

As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."

You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."

You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"

The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.

Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.

hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE

hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint

His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.

Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him. 

After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel. 

It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.

Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.

"Wait, what?!"

Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.

"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."

When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"

When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."

That's what Heeseung hoped for.

Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,

'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'

Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.

jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???

hoon: i had a stroke reading that

sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy

hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is

jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??

hee: i don't know

hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2

niki: class 2 is full of snobs

jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"

hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG

niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung

As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.

Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.

Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.

Fear makes man do crazy things.

Like walking one's crush to school.

Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.

"[Name]!" he called out.

"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"

Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."

You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."

The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.

Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"

You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."

That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket. 

He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.

Not to worry!

Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.

Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.

You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders. 

When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.

"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."

You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.

God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.

And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.

"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up. 

Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.

"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.

A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"

Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"

The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.

"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"

Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."

You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.

"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"

"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."

It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.

"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"

Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"

"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"

Oh. 

No, Heeseung didn't.

When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter. 

"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"

"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm serious, hyung!"

"I second that," Jay said lazily.

"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."

Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"

The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.

"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"

His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.

"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"

Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."

Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.

"Fine!"

As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.

Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say? 

'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'

????

Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you. 

"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."

In.

Love.

With.

Her.

"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"

Come.

Give.

You.

A.

Kiss.

"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"

Marry.

You.

Yuri.

To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her. 

Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!

hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(

jakey: what are you on about this time

There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.

Except, he was stupid.

But for a different reason.

"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."

After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.

"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"

Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju. 

"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”

Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."

Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.

"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.

"Hey!"

"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.

"Dude, I'm right here!"

Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"

"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.

"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."

Heeseung nodded slowly. 

"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"

And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you

When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.

What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!

When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look. 

At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.

With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.

On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.

“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”

He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”

“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”

“Th-Thanks.”

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”

Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”

“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”

“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”

“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”

Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”

If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart. 

“Let’s go, Hee.”

The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.

Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails. 

At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.

As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching. 

You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.

You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.

The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot. 

Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.

You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d  never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.

The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.

Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort. 

When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.

Help, your eyes said.

Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.

Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.

“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”

He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.

The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.

You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.

The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.

“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”

The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”

"W-Wait, Hee-!"

Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.

"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.

"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."

Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours. 

"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."

You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."

Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar. 

"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.

"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact. 

You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."

"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."

And so, your first date with Heeseung began.

The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait. 

"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek. 

"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.

"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."

That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.

Or, at least he thought he thought.

Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.

Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.

"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.

You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.

"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"

Heeseung combusted.

After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street. 

Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.

"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."

Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"

You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"

You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."

The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"

"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."

You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.

On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.

"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"

"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."

The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."

Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.

"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.

"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.

"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.

The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.

Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.

Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"

You answered, "Because he's so perfect."

Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?

A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.

"Did you mean anything you said?"

His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.

"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."

Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you. 

"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you. 

Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.

"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."

Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"

"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."

His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.

"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"

"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."

Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.

Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.

Oh hell no.

You were not going to let that stop you.

You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.

You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.

"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.

Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted. 

"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."

With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were. 

It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.

"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."

"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin. 

"You know I would."

The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.

"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."

He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."

The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.

"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.

"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed. 

It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.

"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"

You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"

"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."

You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"

Your friends deadpanned.

Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.

"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."

"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"

"Girl..."

Heeseung had a similar reaction.

All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.

"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.

All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session. 

"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.

"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously. 

Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."

"Okay, and?"

"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"

"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.

"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"

"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.

"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.

Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.

"Yes."

All of his friends groaned in defeat.

"You're hopeless."

After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.

"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom. 

"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."

Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.

When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—

"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.

"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.

Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"

Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."

The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.

"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"

Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead. 

The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence. 

How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.

"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."

Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario. 

You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right? 

No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!

"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks. 

You blinked at him, then smiled.

Oh, no! It's actually happening!

He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."

You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.

He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.

Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!

"Hee, I really--"

Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.

"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.

.

.

.

You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.

"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."

Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped. 

"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"

Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.

After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—

Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.

His eyes shot open.

You.

Were.

Kissing.

Him.

!!!

After he confessed!

Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.

Did that mean you liked him back?

You pulled away.

Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.

But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

A few pulses passed.

"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.

Another few pulses passed.

You. Liked. Him.

Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?

You.

YOU.

The beautiful, angelic you. 

Liked him.

Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.

"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"

You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.

"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.

"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.

You grinned. "Gladly."

With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.

You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control. 

"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.

You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.

"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw. 

“Drive.” 

Kiss.

“Me.” 

Kiss. 

“So-” 

Kiss.

"Fucking-" 

Kiss.

"Crazy."

Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.

"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.

"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder. 

You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."

Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."

You quirked a brow at him. 

"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."

Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.

"How about I show you?"

FIN.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated :)

[gorgeys]

kinda pervy!queen maeve x femsupe!reader

sorry this is so long but i finished season 3 and had to get this out of my system. maeve come home the kids miss you.

and pls more ppl write for her 🙏🙏

she doesn't want to be like this.  she really doesn't.  but as you sit down at your new seat across from her at your first seven meeting, all of her morals fly right out the window.

you're smiling up at homelander as he introduces you, but all maeve can see are your hands attempting to pull the low cut neckline of your suit up to cover more of your tits.  your suit's brand new and, like starlight's, shows more skin than your previous one which takes some getting used to on your end.

vought's costume department also made quite a few mistakes so your new suit is basically a size too small.  it's the world's best push-up bra, giving maeve so much to look at.  but it's the small opening of your suit over your rib cage that really gets her.  it shows just the teeniest big of your underboob and it's already driving her wild.

you're already not leaving up to imagination, but still, she wants to reach across the table and rip the black leather right off of you.  she wants to run her cold hands all over your chest and make your nipples turn hard under her thumbs.  she wants to grope and squeeze your tits and watch as your face morphs between pain and pleasure.

when you look over at her, you finally notice that she's been staring at you with what appears to be the meanest death glare you've ever seen.  she's leaning forward with her elbows on the table and a clenched jaw as if you're her next target.  you look away quickly, already scared of her.  you just hoped she didn't hate you.  she was your idol after all. oh, if you only knew what she was thinking.

you're too pre-occupied to notice, but every time you leave the conference room after a meeting, she always walks behind you.  of course, it's not an accident.  nothing she does is an accident.

she notices that whenever you walk in front of one of the boys (especially the deep), your hands constantly rest along the hem of your skirt which barely covers your bare ass, ready to pull it down and obstruct their prying eyes.  but with her, you don't seem to care.  it's probably because you think that you're both girls so you don't have anything to worry about.  little do you know she's the worst of them all.

her eyes constantly peek beneath your skirt, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.  a couple times she does get lucky and sees a bit of your white or pink cotton underwear.  one time she gets really lucky and instead catches your black lace panties and wonders who you could be wearing those for.  it's moments like those where she hopes you know she's looking.  she wants you to wear those for her, no one else.

but most days she's not that fortunate.  instead she just watches the sway of your hips and ass as you both walk over to the elevator.  again, she wants to run her hands all over you and feel every single curve.  she visualizes herself squeezing your ass and whispering in your ear how soft and smooth your skin is.  then she imagines bending you over something so she can see all of you.

but then you enter the elevator and turn around and smile sweetly at her.  having spent enough time in the seven, you know she won't ever smile back, but it doesn't really bother you.  you've accepted that's just who she is.  meanwhile, she contemplates pressing the emergency stop button, slamming you against the wall, and shoving her fingers so far inside of you that your brain goes fuzzy and tears are slipping down your pretty cheeks.

it's that same thought that keeps her awake at night.  she can almost hear your whines and moans echoing in her head.  she can hear you begging to cum all over her face and promising you'll be a good girl for her.  you're so loud in her head that she can't help but reach under her shorts and rub circles on her clit as she whispers your name into her pillow.  she thinks about fucking you so often that, to her, it feels like it's really happened.

one time she comes back late from a team-up and, on her way toward her room, peeks into the training room to find you practicing moves on a punching bag.  she stops and just watches through the window for a second.  your back is to her but your hair is up and she can see the sweat dripping off your neck, some of it hitting the mat beneath your feet.  she wonders what it tastes like.  probably salty, but also sweet because it's you after all.  she'd lick your sweat right off your neck in long stripes.  she'd probably lick it off the floor too if she was feeling extra thirsty.

she's torn.  she's tired and you look tired and if homelander catches her, he'll know something strange is going on.  but as you turn slightly toward her and use your tank top to wipe some sweat of your forehead, she makes her decision.

"hey" she says, leaning against the door frame.  you whip your head around and are more than surprised to see her of all people with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug half smile.  "need a training partner?"

you weren't going to say no to this uncharacteristically kind offering, even if you were just about to head upstairs.  so you're jumping around the mat at nearly midnight, dodging her blows and getting in a few licks of your own.  you're a pretty good fighter, but not as good as her, so it's not long before she has you pinned to the mat with one forearm against both your shoulders.

your chest is heaving beneath her arm and your mouth is slightly open.  she's never been this close to you before.  she feels like she's on fucking fire, feeling herself on top of you like this and feeling her skin against yours.  she would've been able to control herself if you weren't staring into her eyes like that, looking a little dazed but excited.  who can blame her for closing the distance and kissing you like there's no tomorrow?

you're beyond shocked.  more like stupefied.  you'd never even had an inkling that she had thought of you in this way.  in fact, you assumed she wanted to kill you sometimes.  but the way she kissed you so hard and dug her teeth in your bottom lip made you want her so badly that you could feel your panties growing wet.

with your little crush on her, you thought about this moment sometimes and assumed she'd be rough but my god she was rough with you that first time.  she barely let you move, keeping you completely pinned to the mat with one arm while the other snuck beneath your skirt.

"you don't even know how long i've been waiting for this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers push your panties to the side.  she's instantly assaulting your clit in fast, tight circles, leaving you writhing beneath her, though there's not much wiggle room between your bodies.

"maeve, what if somebody sees?" you ask between quiet whines.  what a suck up you were, constantly trying to gain points with the other members of the seven in hopes of gaining more power.  she especially hated the way you sucked up to homelander, always grinning at him and laughing at his stupid, gross jokes with hearts in your eyes.  a small part of her wanted him to see her fucking you so good.

"you'll keep taking my fingers, goody fucking two shoes," she says through gritted teeth before shoving a finger inside of you with no warning, causing your back to arch up and off of the mat.  "good girl, baby."

after that night, there's less staring and imagining but more touching and doing.  her hand grazes your ass when you pass each other in the hallway.  she pretends to swat a fly away from your chest and ends up smacking one of your tits.  it always ends with that same no-good smile.

you try your best to only end the night in maeve's room if homelander's out on a mission, but she grows impatient.  you're an addiction and every little taste she gets leaves her wanting more.  she especially gets handsy when you've spent a lot of unnecessary time with homelander.

"y'think he can fuck you like this?" she asks, her strap buried deep inside of you.  you're sat on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around her waist and hands tangled in her hair as she relentlessly pounds into you, pushing you toward your third orgasm.  you moan a "no" into her shoulder before biting down on her skin.  "yeah, that's what i thought.  if i see you touching him again, i swear i'll strip you naked and fuck you in front of him.  now cum before i change my mind and don't let you."

she once threatened to make you wear a vibrator to one of the seven meetings after you came back from a team-up with homelander's arm around your shoulders.  but, after a lot of begging and time spent on your hands and knees feverishly eating her out, maeve finally forgot about the idea.  he would've probably seen it anyways.

but, one of, if not her favorite time fucking you is on a random sunday when homelander's out doing day-time talk show interviews.  she drags you into the seven conference room and sits in homelander's chair at the head of the table.

"feels good, does it, baby?" you say, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her, reaching underneath your skirt and shimmying your panties off.

she sighs a sigh of accomplishment and leans her head back against the chair without taking her hungry eyes off of you.  "feels fucking fantastic."

then she's rolling her chair forward, locking her arms around your thighs, and pulling your pussy toward her mouth.  you lie back on the table with your legs over her shoulders and moan maeve's name as her lips enclose your clit and suck harshly.  she shushes you but with her lips against your cunt, the vibrations only leave you struggling to compose yourself.

the rush of power from eating you out in homelander's chair makes her hungrier than ever and she laps you up quickly, collecting your juices on her tongue and swallowing proudly to avoid leaving behind a mess.  "you taste better than ever, baby," she says, licking her lips before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss.

everything's going well until one fateful meeting when homelander's getting on your ass about some dumb little thing you said in an interview that's been twisted by fans and is now trending on twitter.  he was talking to you like you were a mentally unstable infant and it was starting to piss maeve off.

"hey, cool it, homelander," she interrupts him mid-sentence as he ranted on about your "tiny pea brain."  he turns his face, which was inches away from yours, toward maeve who was coolly leaned back in her chair.  they had a stern staring contest for a few moments before something inside of him snapped.

"just cause y/n's slutting herself out to you doesn't mean you have to be her lesbian knight in shining armor, maeve."  maeve was far better at hiding her shock than you were.  "yeah i fucking knew about you two.  don't think you can hide anything from me."

and that was when your secret arrangement turned into a very public one.  you would be lucky to escape this situation with your life.  luckily maeve would never let you go without a fight.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Melanie and Verde’s relationship got me thinking about Idol! Reader and Photographer! Bakugou.

You’re up on the stage, white hot lights pouring on your face as you belt the lyrics to the song you and your boyfriend wrote together. You dance and hop around the stage, feeling the music so intensely that you wished this moment could never end. Your face is all beams and smiles as your backup dancers weave their bodies around you, complimenting your own performance.

Katsuki was circling the stage with his expensive camera, paying no attention to the screaming fans behind him demanding his attention. He was focused on shooting you in the most flattering lights, trying to get the best shots for your new article coming up.

He can’t help the little smile as you beam at him with a wide grin. You dance a little closer to the stage, making sure to lock eye contact as you sing the ending lyrics to your love song. Your fans cheer and scream for you both, Katsuki getting some attention of his own since you posted a cheeky photo of you smushing ice cream into his face.

You wave goodbye to your fans, bidding them a safe trip home as you skip off stage, giddily trotting to your dressing room. Katsuki is already sat on the couch flicking through the camera film, already deciding which ones to post for your official Instagram story.

“Hi baby, what did you think of the show tonight?” You ask happily, grabbing some comfy clothes and changing behind your screen. Katsuki looks up.

“An incredible job again, siren. Got some real good shoots here. Lighting didn’t fuck it up too much, so they must have got a new person workin’ ‘em. Good thing too, Sparkle Bitch was too flamboyant and made you glare,” he listed off, saving some of the most powerful photos.

“But as my boyfriend, how did I do?” You ask him as you come round the screen, hair tied up as you plonk yourself on to the couch. Katsuki places his camera down and grabs you by the waist, making you squeal as he sits you on his lap. His lips lock with yours as you squeak, slowly melting into the kiss.

“You were so fucking amazing, baby. Absolutely fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs lowly. Your eyes widen at his (not so) little friend bumping against you as you kiss him again and get off his lap.

“You perv, not now! I’m gonna go get in the shower. I’m sweaty from the lights and the costume and I’m parched,” you laugh, already stripping for the shower.

“If you’re thirsty, my number one fan has something for ya!” He cackled as you flipped him the bird. He shook his head fondly, before sending the photos from the camera to his phone.

The next day, the highlights from your performance were plastered on your Instagram. Thousands of likes and comments poured through, some commending the show, some being thirsty, but you didn’t care. You adored your fans.

What you didn’t know however was the photos that had your biggest smiles, the smiles where your nose was scrunched in pure glee. Your dimples made gentle fingerprints in your face, in the same places he fondly holds you. The smile that makes him go weak in the knees, one that should only be his. Those photos were his to keep.

So unless you were to go into his Cloud Drive, you would never see the secret folder he has of your best moments and cutest memories.

[sxfterhearts]

backstage visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff semi-inspired by love story, p1h (aka my fav p1h song!!) and a mini-continuation of neighbourly visits (but can be read as a standalone!)

♡ word count: 2,469 words

♡ summary: jiung's been acting weird and distant all week. but everything changes when you receive an mcountdown backstage pass in the mail...

♡ author’s note: hey guys! i've been thinking about this one for awhile. perhaps i should make it into a mini-series? pls let me know what you think (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

//

“She’s here, Jiung.”

“What?” Jiung gasped in shock. Turning to Jongseob, he asked urgently with firm hands grasping on his friends’ shoulders, “Where is she?”

“Dressing room 3, the one with the stage costumes.”

Jiung was about to run off, but turned around to quickly express his gratitude. “Thanks, man.”

Jongseob nodded with an understanding smile. “Don’t mess it up this time.”

Jiung shot him a nervous smile before disappearing into a blur of orange and white amongst the backstage hallways.

You were sitting on the couch in the middle of the quiet dressing room, eyes darting around nervously. You crossed, then uncrossed your legs a few times, uncertain.

You felt out of place. You’ve never attended a music show screening before, let alone been inside the building where the recordings took place. You were usually a self-assured, confident person, but striking, glittery costumes of all shapes, sizes and colours surrounded you, and you couldn’t help but to look down at your own clothes – just a normal t-shirt and jeans. Plain, like the rest of you.

Which is one of the reasons, if not the main reason, why you were so nervous right now. In the past few weeks since you visited Jiung in the hospital, you had undoubtedly gotten closer to your former-childhood neighbour-turned-popular K-Pop idol. You went over to their dorms a bunch of times to drop off food and side dishes that your mother sent for him, and took him out on gentle walks around the outskirts of Seoul. You even accompanied him and his mother for dinner when she came to visit him last weekend. 

But it was… for the lack of better words, getting a little bit confusing for you. On one hand, you knew that you two were clearly not together. Yet, on the other hand, it seemed to you like you were more than just friends. Which begs the question, what were you to him, exactly?

The past week since his mother’s visit had been odd. You understood that, as an idol, his schedule was hectic and unpredictable. However, when before he used to answer you within the hour, he started leaving more and more of your messages on read. It felt like you were talking to a wall. And the one time you did meet up for ice cream in the middle of the night after his dance practice, you could tell that his mind was elsewhere. It felt like he wasn’t even really there, and like he didn’t want to hang out with you, but was forced to.

That was on Wednesday. After gobbling up your ice cream, you made some stupid excuse about having to double-check something for work and left earlier than you anticipated. You initially thought that the two of you would take a stroll around the Han River, but given his state, you decided to just leave without another word.

Which was why, when you came home on Friday after work and found a ticket and backstage pass for MCountdown in your mailbox, you were stunned. You quickly searched up the show’s lineup, and sure enough, P1Harmony were performing on Sunday night. You weren’t entirely sure what it meant, and whether or not it was even a good idea to show up, but after talking to a few close friends about it, you made the decision to go. After all, what’s the worst that could happen, right? 

Which brings you to the current situation – phone lying idly by your side, teeth gnawing at your lips, and fingers fidgeting with the ends of a sequin dress hanging beside you. Why did he invite you here? Your mind began to spiral in the empty space, where only muffled instrumentals could be heard from the faraway performance stage. You felt like you were always lingering around the peripherals of Jiung’s life, never floating in the same orbit, let alone galaxy, as him. Because let’s be honest, until a few weeks ago when he let you slip in by the backdoor of his life, him, and his voice, were merely something you could only savour from behind a wall, or behind a screen. 

Was it, perhaps… Did he call me here to end it?

The door burst wide open at that moment, revealing a very out-of-breath, yet impeccably dressed and styled Jiung. 

Figures, you thought, as you scanned the boy in front of you from head to toe and rose to your feet. He had a blue knitted shawl thrown over a white long sleeve, and… what were those? Hand warmers? You never really understood fashion anyways.

Jiung took a few seconds to catch his breath and compose himself, not daring to meet your eyes lest they betray him for even a second. When he was rushing to see you before the performance, heck, even when he slipped the backstage passes into your mailbox, truthfully, he wasn’t really thinking. 

See, Jiung was new to this whole… feelings thing. He never used to acknowledge them, let alone think about, process, or talk about them to another person. Growing up, he learned that bottling things up was the quickest and most efficient way to deal with difficult emotions, and that it was the best way to ensure he got back into work. But for some reason, after you reappeared in his life, he started to realise that his default coping mechanisms weren’t that foolproof after all.

And now, he wants to take a big step towards working on this flaw of his. If he could just work up the nerve to look you in the eye…

You cleared your throat, somewhat uncomfortably.

His head shot up in alarm, like a deer caught in headlights. With wide eyes, he stared at you. You stared back at him. Both of you tried to remain expressionless, unsure of what the other was thinking. Both of you had so much to say, but neither had the guts to break the silence.

“I’m sorry I was an ass –”

“Do you hate me –?”

The two of you spoke in unison, overlapping voices filling the dressing room.

Jiung closed his eyes and took a deep breath upon hearing your words. “What I wanted to say was,” A heavy exhale. “I���m sorry. I was being an ass. And no, I don’t hate you.” He chuckled humorlessly. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” He muttered, more to himself than anything.

But you heard him. “Yeah,” You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, you kinda were an ass.”

“It’s just…” He was looking down at the ground, but his body unconsciously moved closer and closer, towards you, like there was a gravitational pull towards your entire being. “It’s… I didn’t know what to do.”

“About what?” You found yourself moving forward voluntarily, taking baby steps towards him.

“About…” He waved his hands in the air. “About all this. About us…”

Your face fell. You took a step back. “Oh.” You exhaled, feeling your heart sink into a bottomless chasm.

“It’s hard for me, you know? It’s confusing. I got confused.”

Your lips start to tremble. At first, you were so sure that nothing could be worse than absolute radio silence from Jiung. Turns out, this was worse, much worse. Actually hearing his voice utter these words to you were like daggers aimed at your poor soul. “Yeah, you know what? I should probably go.” You just wanted to get out as quickly as possible, and started to make a beeline for the door, but –

“Wait! Listen, please,” He pleaded, finally looking up at you just as you were about to walk past him and out of his life, again. He couldn’t let that happen. “Can you just… Hug me? Please? If that’s okay with you…”

You had so many questions swimming around in your mind but you chose to not think and just did as he said. “But you hate hugs,” You whispered, as your arms came around his waist and his wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Yeah, but, not really. I get less distracted this way.” Jiung muttered in response, and you could feel his chest vibrate against yours. It almost made you feel warm, almost. “Cos I have something important to tell you.” And the sinking feeling returned once more.

You hummed, indicating that you were listening and encouraging him to go on – even though a part of yourself knew what was coming and didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end.

“Y/N, you know me. You’ve known me for a long time. You know me, even before all of this. So trust me when I say, it is hard to deal with my feelings and my emotions. Like you said that time in the hospital, I am not good at dealing with these things. And it’s true, I do bottle them up. But…” He thought for a second, before continuing. “The reason I do it is because it was something that was modelled to me when I was younger, and it was all I knew, and that was how I coped. I avoid things – people, situations, messages, and I run away.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“The past few weeks have been really, really good. I really enjoyed it – all of it. The walks, the food we shared, and just, the time we spent together. I will cherish those memories forever. But…”

You gulped.

“But last weekend, when my mum saw me and asked me about it, I got scared. I don’t know why. She told me that it looked like I got my spark back again, like I was smiling how I used to before. And she asked, whether it was because of you, and what we were. And truthfully, I didn’t know how to answer her, because technically, we weren’t anything.”

You tried to struggle out of his grip at this point because it was too much. Listening to him was too much. But he only held you firmer; wrapped his arms around you a little tighter.

“And then I realised, I never really stop and think about these things. All my life, I just let all my feelings, the good, the bad, and everything in between – I just let them wash over me. And I never really process them, but I never really let them go either. And it wasn’t until the other day when I was walking along the river and I passed the fried chicken place that it hit me. Do you know what I was thinking about when I saw it?”

“What?” You grumbled into his shirt, feeling partially drained from the heavy emotions and anxiousness.

“I wasn’t even thinking about the chicken, or eating the chicken, or having the beer with the chicken. Or how good the rice cakes would taste. I thought, wow, wouldn’t it be perfect, if you were here with me, and we had chicken for supper together?”

“Hmm?” You were confused.

Jiung laughed. “God, I’m so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is,” He loosened his grip so he could face you, eye to eye this time, whilst still holding your body close to his. “It hit me then. I used to go about my life, thinking just about me, or my work, what I want to eat, or what I want to do. And ever since you came into my life, now, all I can think about is you. Everything reminds me of you. The chicken, the walks, a nice park, a good song I heard, a shirt that I saw… I see it, and I think – what would Y/N think of this? What would Y/N prefer? That’s what I want to know. And that’s what scared me. Because not only was it my feelings, but it was also you – your feelings and thoughts were outside of my control because… I can’t read your mind, and because it was heavily implied that if I ever broke your heart I would not be allowed back into my mother’s house, and, and…”

“And?” You asked gently, with a soft, encouraging smile painted on your lips. You understood, now.

“And it’s scary. Feelings are scary. They’re big, and they’re scary. But I want to be brave now, because I want to learn how to deal with them properly, and because I want to own up to them so I can treat you right.”

The pause brought about a silence which allowed his words to sink in. 

“Because,” Jiung pulled you impossibly close. You could feel his warm breath against your cheeks, and his thundering heart against his ribcage, mirroring yours. “Because in case it wasn’t super obvious, I really, really like you.” He said, letting out a shaky breath, lips turning upwards in a nervous smile.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled silently, meeting his vulnerable eyes with your cheeky crescent moons. 

“Why…” Jiung paused. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

You laughed in response, pulling slightly away from him but still firmly holding on. 

“What… Why?”

You shook your head before bursting into another fit of giggles. “You started it! You gave me the silent treatment. I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“I… What? Y/N?”

You couldn’t help smiling at his shocked expression, staring at you in disbelief as the cogs in his brain turned ever so slowly. “Oh my god, Jiung, just shut up and kiss me already.”

“I –”

His eyes grew as wide as saucers as you pulled him by the collar, down to your height. Any words he had died in his mouth as your lips finally touched. His brain short circuited for a few seconds, trying and failing to register how soft your plump pillows felt against his, and the subtle sweetness of your strawberry lipbalm, and oh, oh, your tongue, and your hands threading through his orange hair (his stylist was going to give him an earful later), and oh – they’re moving down –

“Jiung!” A voice yelled from the other side of the door. “Ten minutes!”

“Shit,” He mumbled as you began to nibble on his bottom lip in fervour. Jiung let out a pained groan. “Y/N, Y/N, I have to… I have to go, I…”

“Hmm?” You pulled away, but not without a loud smooch and a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. You batted your eyelashes up at him, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. 

“Five minutes.” Jiung looked at you sternly, but his wide smile betrayed him. “Five minutes, that’s all we get.”

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before lacing your fingers with his and getting cosy on the couch. 

Needless to say, the stylists had their work cut out for them before he had to race on stage.

[heli-writes]

Heartbreak and other nuisances, part 2.

Pairing: Pro-hero!Deku x female!reader

Summary: Love is never easy, especially when you're the number one hero of Japan. After getting dumped by his childhood love, Deku just can't seem to get it right, much to his mother's disappointment. When he meets y/n, he is convinced it will just be a one-night stand. Or being fuck buddies. His broken heart stands in his way. And you've got your own demons to fight.

Disclaimer: nsfw, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, angst, heartbreak, bisexuality

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Minors do not interact.

Note: I finally got around to write a second part of this!

Part 1, Part 2

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Izuku massages his temples. It's been just a couple of hours but the day is already too long. Izuku considers himself the kind of hero who prefers working outside, on the street. Patrolling, taking on missions, actively helping and saving people. That's why he became a hero in the first place.

He's shy by nature and therefore working with the press and fans is not really his thing. Over the years, he learned to play along. Smile at fans, give funny answers in interviews and always seem collected and content. Truth is though, most of these times he feels rather uncomfortable. Despite his reputation, it's still hard to believe that people look up to him, and idolize him even. Inside, he's still that weird quirkless nerd Kacchan always made fun of.

Interviews are even worse. He feels like these interviewers are always out to get him. Try to squeeze something juicy out of him, something scandalous, something that could potentially ruin his career.

“Mr. Deku, you're almost up.”

A worker from the TV station rips him out of his thoughts. He puts on a brave smile and gives her a nod.

“Alright, I'm ready whenever!”, he tells the worker.

The worker disappears and Izuku can hear the TV host introduce his appearance.

Time to put on a show, he thinks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So far the questions have been tame. Mostly, the male host asked him about his work on the street and some upcoming fan events. Stuff he feels comfortable talking about. The female host chirped in here and there asking about his costume and the heroes that he teams up with from time to time. Izuku is very glad she didn't ask about his rivalry with Dynamight.

“So while we're talking about fans. We all know you are very popular with the ladies. Tell us, Deku, can you give our viewers some hope? Would you ever be open to dating a fan?”, the female host flashes him some pearly white teeth. Deku doesn't like where this is going. Predictable, expectable? Yes, both. Uncomfortable? Also yes.

“Well, I don't see why I wouldn't. I used to be a huge fan of All Might and he's basically my dad now.”, Izuku chuckles. He hopes mentioning All Might and his relationship with his mother is enough to divert the interviewer's curiosity. He rarely talks about them publicly. So, basically, he's throwing her a bone.

“I bet that's a huge relief for our viewers. But would any of them even have a chance? Are you open to date at the moment?”, the hostess continues her prodding.

An image of you pined beneath him flashes through his mind. Is he ready to date? He doesn't know.

Izuku gives her an awkward laugh.

“I guess I have to disappoint. The job is filling my days, thoughts and heart. I'm afraid there is not much room for anything else.”, he tells her.

When the woman gives him a Cheshire cat smile, he knows she's about to say something bad. Bad for him, but good for her.

“Yes, I bet serious dating must be hard in your line of work. But what about casual dating? There have been reports of you being seen with different women over the last year.”, she tells him innocently.

Izuku wants to roll his eyes. Really? That's where she is going? As if being photographed with someone means he's dating them.

Another image of you is flashing through his mind. This time you're sitting across from him in that bar. Looking all pretty in that dress, giving him bedroom eyes.

He's sure no one took pictures of you. His PR team would've given him hell if an image like that was leaked. Also, he's not dating you, not even casually. He slept with you one time.

And yet you left your contacts at his place.

“I'm afraid I'm not the type to date causally.”, he tells the interviewer and flashes her one of his signature smiles. Checkmate. Izuku feels triumphant when he sees the hostess's disappointed smile.

It disappears when the camera zooms in on her. “Well, ladies, you've heard it here! If our favorite hero falls for you, he's all in!”, she tells the camera with a booming smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Izuku feels more exhausted than he usually does. After he was finally allowed to go backstage again, people swarmed him. His PR team clapped him on the back, praising his witty answers. A backstage worker asked for an autograph for his kid. When he finally can retire to his dressing room, he's spent.

He slumps down in the chair in front of the big mirror with the big, round Hollywood-style lightbulbs around it. The bright light burns in his eyes. He takes a look at the reflection that stares back at him. The light makes him paler than he is. His skin looks almost ghostly and the makeup on his face suddenly does very little to hide the dark circles under his eyes. But, hey, at least his hair still looks perfect.

He can't seem to look away from his own image. For a moment he wonders if it's self-conceit so many heroes seem to carry. He watches his eyebrow furrow. That's not it. It's more like... looking at a stranger and trying to figure them out. What are they thinking? Do they have good intentions or bad ones? Can they be trusted? He scans his face like he does with villains and people in the street when he's patrolling.

He comes up with nothing.

He sighs and pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants. His fingers brush over the rough edges of the paper that's been sitting there for a couple of days now. By now the card must be bent and cracked. He pulls out your business card and looks at it.

Tutela Idumentis LLC Y/N L/N y/n.l/n@tutela-idumentis.com +1 711 23456

Of course, he's been nosy about the company on the card, so he googled it. Very quickly he ended up at an online store of a workwear clothing brand. Turns out, there's also a store of the brand here in Musutafu. Considering the lack of a title on your business card, he assumes you must work there as a store worker or something. Seems as if you aren't even a store manager.

He turns the card over and back to the front. He's tempted to send a text to the number on the card. That's why you left it, right? He sighs and shoves the card back into his pocket. Like he's done quite a few times before.

He doesn't need to text you. It's a bad idea. You both made it clear that you don't want a relationship. A hookup is fine, but turning it into a regular thing? That's the way you get caught by the press. Also, he's not sure if he can trust you. You had this aura around you. Kind of sneaky. And there's a devilish spark behind your eyes. He feels like it's best not to mess with you. He had a good night, you left and kept quiet about it. No big deal.

He decides that it's best to go home now. He gathers his things including a duffle bag with his hero costume and makes his way to the door. Usually, his security team would make sure that there is a car waiting for him but today he drove himself to the TV station. It gives him a certain authority over his own day instead of being dragged from one place to another. Lately, he's been feeling that most things lie outside of his control, so he enjoys these little decisions he can make for himself. Even if his head of security isn't always happy about them.

He manages to avoid most people on his way to the parking garage. After he's put his bag into the trunk, he slides into the driver's seat. He takes out his phone to put in the route back home. When he activates the mobile data on his phone, a flood of messages comes in. He's ignoring most of them but something catches his eye.

📷 @dynamight posted a new picture

He clicks on the notification and is led to Katsuki's Instagram page. He swallows hard when he sees the image Kacchan posted. It's a young woman in a white summer dress turning her back towards the camera with her arm outstretched behind her holding Katsuki's hand that can be seen at the bottom of the photo.

Izuku has met Kacchan's girlfriend before, even if it was only in passing. And yet the image of her burned itself into Izuku's mind. He's certain that it's her in the picture. Obviously, they are still together. But more importantly: Now they're officially together. That's more Izuku ever got from Katsuki.

Katsuki kept his relationship under wraps. Of course, there were rumors that he was seeing someone because the press always finds out. But he never commented on it, not even to deny the allegations.

And now he posted her. For the whole world to see. Telling everybody proudly: “That's my girl!”. No “We need to be careful.” or “Can you imagine what happens if this gets out?”. Izuku tries to swallow the lump in his throat. He feels betrayed. It's unfair. Why does this woman get what he wanted? What he waited for for so long? And she gets it this quickly? It makes him want to hate Katsuki. He's not sure what is boiling in his stomach, hurt or anger. Maybe both.

Quickly, he swipes the app away and opens maps.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He thought about it the whole way home. He was brooding over the implications of the picture Katsuki posted. About how it will change Katsuki's life and his work as a hero. From now on, he probably will bring his girlfriend to every red carpet event. The same events Izuku is invited to. Pushing the image of him and her further down his throat.

The silence of his apartment welcomes him. He doesn't turn on the big lights just yet. Instead, he opens the refrigerator and stays in the cool, dim light of it. He rummages through it to find something edible but nothing seems to raise his appetite.

He opens his phone again. Stares at the picture for a while. Then, he pulls out your business card. He puts the card and the phone next to each other on the counter. Stares at them until they blur together in his vision. His heart is pounding.

Finally, he picks up his phone again and types in your number.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

To say you're surprised to hear from the Nr. 1 hero of Japan again is an understatement. After a couple of days have passed without him texting you, you actually forgot about him. You don't dwell on hookups very long, even when they're rich and famous. You've met quite a few rich and famous people in your lifetime and you have to say that most of them are absolute pricks. Especially the male ones.

So, you were quite surprised when Izuku texted you inviting you for dinner. You find that invitation rather odd. Didn't he just recently say in an interview that he doesn't date? Casually or otherwise? And if he wants to hook up again, he doesn't really need to take you out first. After all, you know where he lives and you most certainly are down to go again.

He may be a rich famous prick, but at least he knows what he's doing in bed. Well, to be fair, he didn't strike you as a prick. Maybe a bit desperate for praise, but all in all he was quite respectful. At least he didn't use your contact info to force a signed NDA out of you.

You wipe at the side of your eye. Your eyeliner didn't turn out the way you want it to look like. You contemplate wiping it off completely but you decide it's probably not worth it anyway. It's likely your makeup won't stay in place this evening anyway. At least, that's your intention.

It'd be kind of funny if Izuku had serious intentions with this date. Well, not really, but it's always funny to you when men are easily wrapped around your finger. It's funny to see men's logical thinking going out of the window when a female body is involved.

You slip into the fancy dress you picked for tonight. Izuku told you that the restaurant he's taking you requires formal wear. You find it comical that he invites you out to such a fancy dinner. You wonder if letting him come inside is enough for him to fall in love. It makes you think he's a little bit pathetic. You're not interested in a relationship. You've got work to do and high ambitions. Romantic relations tend to stand in one's way. Moreover, you never were the relationship kind of person.

Your phone rings and you see that Izuku texted you that he's waiting for you downstairs. You grab your purse and make your way to the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Izuku expected you to live in a small apartment in the city. Probably in an area with cheap corner stores and buildings that have long passed their prime days. Somewhere cheap, but not run down. Somewhere where people with normal jobs or many children live.

However, you live in the suburbs. In a nice neighborhood with families that have two cars in their driveways and a simple, but modern architecture. Apparently, you have a whole house to yourself. He wonders if it's your childhood home.

He parks the car in front of your front door and shoots you a text. Waiting for you, he feels kind of nervous. He wonders if this is really a good idea. He's not sure what he hopes to come from this. He's not ready to move on and he's sick and tired of superficial meetings and onenightstands. He concludes he must be trying to numb himself from the fact that he won't find love anytime soon or ever for that matter.

He swallows hard when he sees you stepping outside the door. You're wearing a long, red dress with a slit that goes up to your hip leaving the plumpness of your upper leg exposed. He did tell you that the place he's taking you requires formal wear but this dress looks like you certainly had something different in mind than just grabbing dinner. You're stunning and Izuku suddenly feels intimidated by you. Clearly, you're dressed to kill, or rather to fuck.

You walk up to his car and get in at the passenger side.

“Hey.”, you greet him with a toothy smile and Izuku has to admit that the smile makes you look even more stunning.

“Hey”, he tells you back. He knows he must sound a bit stiff, but to be fair he has no idea where he is going with all this.

An awkward silence befalls the car as he starts the engine and pulls out of your street. You can see how tense Izuku is. Clearly, he's nervous or at least highly uncomfortable. You wonder why he invited you in the first place. Also, you find it strange how the usually confident, sympathetic hero is reduced to... this. Somehow you doubt it's due to him being intimidated by your sex appeal.

When Izuku doesn't start a conversation, you do. You attempt to make some small talk with him.

“So, how was work today?”, you ask him. Izuku takes a moment to answer.

“It's been alright, I guess.”, he replies vaguely. Internally, you want to groan. You opened up the stage for him to boast about his work. That's what men like to do, right? Especially men who work in his field! You manage to avoid rolling your eyes.

“Alright, how are things on the street then? Patrol keeping you busy?”, you continue to ask him. You can hear Izuku breathing in in relaxation.

“It's been alright. Some villains here and there but mostly things are quiet.”, he tells you.

“Really, I mean that must mean you can relax a lot, right?”, you say teasingly. Izuku lets out a laugh and you think it's a nice sound.

“I wish that was the case. But a hero's work does not stop at patrolling.”, he tells you.

“I bet. All that press work. And do you not also lead charity for the quirkless? I've always wondered what that is about. Since when do quirkless people need charity? Just because they're quirkless, doesn't mean they can't have a job and life like normal people.”, you say.

“Of course!”, Izuku replies feverishly, “That's not what the charity is about. It's about integration into society, about perspectives.”

You notice that Izuku's whole body language shifts. His chest is all puffed and he pushes his chin forward. You have to smile smugly. Seems like you've found something to poke him with.

“Integration? Perspectives? Sounds to me as if you consider the quirkless as some second-class citizens.”, you tease him. You try to make your voice sound all serious.

“No, not at all! But it's just a fact that the quirkless are treated differently in our superhero society. They're often excluded, are not given the same chances as others.”, he tells you. There's a passionate look in his eyes and you start to feel soft. It's sweet how passionately he feels about the situation of the quirkless.

“And your charity tries to do something against it?”, you ask in a kinder voice.

“Yes, we do. I know there's only so much we can do, at least until the rest of the people change their minds, but still... I think it's important. It shouldn't matter if a person has a powerful quirk or none at all. We're all people.”, he tells you.

You keep looking at the profile of his face. Izuku's eyes are set on the road ahead, but the look in them is stern and determined. Clearly, this topic is important to him. You wonder if it's alright to reveal something real about yourself.

“My mother is quirkless.”

You study how his facial expression changes. For a second, his eyes widen. His grip on the steering wheel loosens a bit.

“Oh, I didn't know that. I'm sorry if I talked about this as if I know more than you.”, he says a bit more quietly.

You shrug and laugh a bit.

“It's alright. My mother has a good life. She married wisely, I guess.”, you ponder. From the corner of your eye, you can see that Izuku gives you a side-eye.

After that, silence befalls the car again. This time you don't attempt to make conversation. The topic dimmed your mood.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the restaurant, the staff shows you to your seats. The waiter shows you two to a private booth out of sight by most people in the restaurant. You conclude that Izuku must've chosen this place in order to have some privacy. He probably couldn't take you to many other places. Suddenly, you feel sorry for Izuku not being able to just go on a date without having to think too much about it. Then again, he chose this life and that's just one of the many negative aspects of being a hero. Grimly, you think about how you are glad to live a different life.

“Have you already chosen, ma'am?”

The waiter rips you out of your thoughts. You blink a couple of times and turn your attention to the menu card that you are holding in your hands.

After the waiter takes your orders, Izuku and you are left alone in the tiny booth again. Again, an awkward silence befalls you. Izuku clears his throat.

“So... um you work in the clothing industry?”, he asks you. You give him a court nod.

“Yes, we opened a store here in Musutafu recently.”, you tell him. He nods. Seems as if he was right when he assumed you worked at the local store.

“You like working here?”, he continues to ask. You shrug.

“I guess. My family's originally from Japan, so I guess it's nice being able to see that side of the family more often.”, you ponder.

“Oh, you didn't grow up here?”, he wonders and you shake your head.

“Nah, I grew up in America. Moved there because of my dad's job.”, you say. Izuku nods understandingly.

“I wish I could've spent a semester or so abroad, like All Might. But in the end that wasn't possible.”, he laughs awkwardly.

“Well, you didn't miss much. America isn't as great as everybody makes it out to be. Especially when you work in the hero business. The paparazzi are hell there.”, you say sympathetically.

Izuku rubs the back of his head and laughs again.

“Well, they're not great here either. Can be a real pain to be honest.”, he replies.

You were just about to answer him when the waiter arrived with your food. Once the plates are set in front of you, the conversation dies down as you two eat. This time a comfortable silence surrounds you. After dinner, you two stay for another round of drinks and the conversation flows more easily. You ask him about what he likes to do after hours and his time at U.A. He asks questions about your life in America. He notices how you only vaguely answer them. Eventually you two pay and make your way back home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Izuku parks in front of your house again. It's already dark outside and only the streetlights illuminate the inside of the car. Izuku's turned to you and you can barely see the freckles on his cheeks.

“I had a good time.”, you say and you mean it. Despite the occasional awkwardness, it was a nice date. And to be fair, Izuku's kind of cute when he's flustered. You teased him on purpose from time to time to bring that flustered expression out of him. You know it's probably a bit mean but you enjoy it too much to stop. Maybe it's your kink to see powerful men in weak positions.

Right now, Izuku wears exactly that expression and you can't help but smirk.

“Y-yeah... it's... it was nice. Maybe we could-”, Izuku can't finish his sentence. With a firm hold on his shirt, you yank him forward and press your lips against his. For the first few seconds, his brain barely reacts to what is happening. Then, he slowly puts his arms around you and kisses you back. You run your hands through his hair and deepen the kiss. A pleasant shiver runs down Izuku's spine. He places a hand on the back of your neck and pulls your face back onto his when you try to break the kiss apart.

You try to press your chest against his but the interior of the car is in your way. Suddenly, a light down the street gets turned on and you two quickly fall apart. It's a dog walker activating a porch light. Izuku pushes your head down. You stay like this until the walker has passed.

“Y'know if you wanted my head in your crotch, you could've just asked.”, you tell him grinningly.

Izuku lets go of your head and straightens his posture. He lets out a breath he didn't notice he was holding.

“I'm sorry... it's just...”, he starts.

“It's okay. You don't want to get caught. Career and everything.”, you say understandingly and Izuku is glad you get it. Then there's a mischievous gleam in your eyes and you grip onto his shirt again.

“But y'know... There is no such thing as bad press.”, you say and pull him back into your mouth again. Izuku groans and then pushes you away.

“We really shouldn't... not here...”, he trails while his eyes are fixated on your lips. You can already see his self-control slipping.

“Come up with me then.”, you invite him.

Izuku hesitates. You reach out your hand and lightly push your hand through the sides of his hair. Then, you cup his cheek. Softly, you trail his lips.

“Please.”

Izuku lets out a shaky breath before sighing. “You're a devil”, he tells you and you laugh.

“So, you're coming up then?”, you grin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Izuku didn't expect your home to look so... homely. He lowkey expected either very modern furniture that has a lot of flat surfaces with nothing on it or very old furniture that you inherited from your parents (like the house most likely). However, the inside of your house is tasteful. Soft beige and blue pastel tones dominate the rooms. The décor is feminine and simple. Dried flowers in vases, fairy lights, and soft blankets. He wonders what's it with you and blankets. You seem to keep one in every room.

You lead him through the living room to the staircase where you take him upstairs into your bedroom. Your bedroom is in the same style as the rest of the house. Izuku admits it's very cozy. He much rather slip under your bed's covers underneath the fairy lights and fall asleep than do whatever you've got planned.

He's still looking around the room when you start to take off your shoes and dress. He's taken aback when he notices you undressing and tries to avoid looking in your direction. As if he hasn't seen you naked before.

You catch his awkward look and have to chuckle. “Can you help me with this?”, you ask and point to the back of your bra. There's no denying it. You love teasing him. Swiftly and precisely, he opens your bra and you slip it off. You feel sorry for the man, so you pull a T-shirt over your head.

“Metalon? You like old-schooled heroes like that?”, Izuku asks teasingly. Only then do you notice the shirt you pulled over your head. Immediately, you're embarrassed.

“No, not really.”, you quickly say and pull the T-shirt over your head again. Izuku watches you with furrowed brows. While you are rummaging through your wardrobe for another T-shirt, he wonders if his comment made you feel so insecure that you felt the need to change clothes.

“You know, you didn't need to change it. It was just a joke.”, he tells you. You pull a sour grimace. “Yeah, I know.”, you answer him courtly. But nothing is more off-putting than wearing your dad's clothes before having sex with someone, you think.

Quickly, you dive under the covers on your bed and get cozy. You wave for Izuku to join you. Izuku slips out of his pants and shirt and joins you in the bed. Your blankets feel as soft as they look, he decides. You slide closer next to him. Your skin feels warm underneath his and he puts an arm around you. He's sure he could fall asleep then and there if it wasn't for you kissing up his neck.

He groans when you suck on that sweet spot just beneath his ear. He turns his head and meets you in a kiss. The kiss quickly becomes heated and he can feel your tongue begging for entrance. At the same time, your hand trails a pattern on the skin of his chest. A shiver of anticipation runs down his spine as he feels your fingers trail lower with each passing second. His left-hand finds its way to your breasts as well. Gently, he massages one of them through the plain black T-shirt you're wearing. Carefully, you break the kiss apart.

“You can take it off, you know?”, you say while looking at him with hooded eyes. Carefully, Izuku lifts the shirt over your head. He takes a moment to take in the sight in front of him. You're beautiful. Part of him wishes you'd take off the panties as well. Before he can dwell on the sight too long, you shuffle closer to him. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and push your breasts against his chest.

Izuku pulls you closer, softly petting the skin of your back. It's been a while since he felt as comfortable and warm as he does now. It doesn't even bother him that you two are about to turn things sexual. Actually, it excites him. Usually, he's in for a quick fuck. Trying to ignore the person in front of him, just chasing his own release. It makes things easier. Easier to not get attached. He doesn't care about this this time. He longs for that closeness. That closeness he used to have with...

He pushes the thought out of his mind. He's with you right now. And right now you're sucking and biting on his earlobe which gets harder to ignore with each passing second. He lets his hands wander into your hair. Gently, he angles your head in a way that he can kiss you again. While he kisses you this time, you hold onto his arms. He can feel you rocking your hips against his. Seems as if you're already in the mood. Carefully, he breaks the kiss apart.

“You want it? Then you need to work for it.”, he tells you huskily. You groan and roll your eyes.

“You're mean.”, you reply. Then, you give him a devilish smile and disappear beneath the blanket.

Izuku leans back in anticipation. He can feel your hands running up and down his legs before pulling his boxers down. He puts his arm underneath the blanket and scratches the back of your head. It isn't long before he can feel you licking a stripe up and down his half-hard member. You take the still kind of limp dick in your mouth and gently massage it with your tongue. You can hear Izuku groan above you. It doesn't take long before Izuku's fully erect. Only then, you start bobbing your head up and down his length. The muscles in Izuku's legs tense up and you notice how he fights the urge to thrust up into your mouth. You contemplate whether Izuku's able to get another one up if you finish him like this. Eventually, you decide it's not worth the shot. You do want to get some tonight as well.

Luckily for you, Izuku must be thinking a similar thing since he pulls you up from his dick at some point. You crawl up Izuku's body and place both hands on either side of his head holding yourself up. That position only lasts a few seconds as Izuku pulls you down against him. He kisses you again and gropes your ass. You run your hands through his hair. You can feel him slide his dick over your clothed pussy and you have to break the kiss moaning.

“You think we can take this off?”, he asks you while pulling on the elastic band of your panties.

“Definitely.”, you pant.

Deku holds up your hips with one arm and uses his other hand to pull down your panties in one swift motion. Carefully, he places your hips down again and runs a hand up and down your leg.

“You're beautiful.”, he says in a soft voice and leans down to kiss you again.

Somehow this feels different, you decide. The way he lightly pushes you down into your plush pillow. How he caresses the skin of your hips. How he lets his lips ghost over your shoulder up to your neck before carefully sucking on the sensitive skin on your throat.

It's so different than last time. Everything feels softer, but more firmly too. As if Izuku thinks exactly what to touch next. It's a stark contrast to the needy heat of last time. You bask in the anticipation Izuku builds up with his soft but determined touch.

Finally, Izuku's hands dip in between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers running through your slick folds. Gently, he massages the wet flesh carefully avoiding your clit and hole. The skin on the back of your neck starts to itch. You need him. You need him to finally give you satisfaction. You groan in frustration.

“What is it, princess? Are you not feeling good?”, he asks you.

You bite your lip before answering: “I'm feeling good, Izuku. Just... just please!”.

He doesn't tease you. Doesn't say something along the lines: “Use your voice. Tell me what you want”. No, he leans down to kiss your mouth again. While kissing, he finally touches your clit. You thrust your hips upwards to his hand. Gently he rubs circles on the sensitive bud. You break the kiss moaning.

“Shit.”, you curse. You can't help but look down. Where his hand meets your womanhood. You can feel the wetness pooling between your folds. Izuku kisses the side of your face.

“Focus on me.”, he tells you and you look up to him. He leans over your side and you stroke the side of his face. His green eyes capture yours and you can't seem to look away. One of his fingers finds your hole and enters you. Again, you gasp gently but you don't look away.

There's something sensual and intimate about looking into somebody's eyes while they're inside you. You can feel your heart beating out of rhythm with Izuku's fingers entering and exiting you. You can't help but want more. You want him hovering above you, your hands running down his sweat-stained chest and his cock inside you in the same rhythm as your heartbeat.

“Izuku”, you pant, “Don't you want to fuck me?”

Izuku groans and leans down to suck on your nipple. When his eyes find yours again, he says “Desperately so”. He pulls his fingers out of you and you rummage to find a condom.

Once you pulled it over his dick, you get in position. He's taking you missionary this time and you think it's fitting for tonight. Gently, Izuku spreads your legs apart and you lead him to your entrance. Slowly, he enters you while leaning down to your face again. He gives you a moment to adjust before setting a slow pace.

You wrap your arms around his neck and enjoy just how deep he reaches you. Goddamnit, he's so sexy, you think. The way his green locks fall into his face. The way his face contorts in pleasure. The way short, sharp breathes exit his mouth. You want to watch him fall apart.

You stop his thrusting and push against his chest. Izuku stops and gives you a puzzled look. “What?”, he asks you.

“Sit up and lean against the headboard.”, you tell him. Izuku follows your order and sits at the head of your bed. You crawl up to him, gently kissing his leg before sitting up and hovering over his dick. Gently you touch his cheek before sinking down on his cock.

Izuku lets out a long moan and pants when your pussy is finally fully stretched above him. Carefully, you start rocking your hips. Izuku's hands immediately fly up to your sides helping you with your motions. You lean back, steadying yourself with your hands on his legs. You give him a full display of your tits and the way his dick slides in and out of you. His eyes almost bulge out of their sockets and you need to suppress the urge to laugh at him.

You fuck him like this until his head falls back against the headboard. Only then, you sit up again. You continue rocking your hips but you lean towards him wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

“I-i don't think I last very long anymore...”, he tells you panting and you have to smirk.

“Good.”, you whisper back at him.

You start a faster, more grinding pace on him and Izuku throws his head back again in a choked moan. You grind on him harder than before and you enjoy how the base of his cock stimulates the hard bud of your clitoris. Keeping the pace up, you start chasing your own high.

“Sh-shit, y/n...”, you hear him groan and you can feel his cock twitch inside you. You rock your hips harder into him getting more friction to your clit. You feel how his hands grip your hips but you're too lost in your own pleasure to care what he's doing. You can feel the heavy feeling in your stomach building up indicating that an orgasm will hit you soon. You grip onto his shoulders and blend out his moans and heavy breathing. Finally, you fuck yourself over the edge and your pussy starts spasming around his member. Izuku lets out a “Fuck, yes!” and comes with a shudder.

You stay on his cock trying to catch your breath. Izuku's head lolled onto your shoulder when he came. He stays nuzzled into your neck, softly caressing the skin of your lower back. You can already feel Izuku's dick softening inside of you but you don't want to get off yet. The expectation for this night was to have steamy, hot sex with him. Instead, you fucked more like lovers than strangers.

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You don't want a lover. You tap his shoulder and Izuku looks up with hooded eyes. Carefully, you slide off of him. The feeling of him slipping out of you leaves you feeling empty. It seems as if Izuku is brought back to reality as he clears his throat.

“Where's your bathroom?”, he asks and you point to a door at the side. He slides out of bed picking up his boxers on the way to the bathroom. You lean back against the headboard.

“Shit.”, you mumble. Quickly, you get up and open the window as wide as possible in hopes that some cool, fresh air can order your thoughts. What was I thinking fucking him like this?, you ask yourself. Izuku strikes you as a man who falls in love quickly. You don't want to give him any false hopes.

But it felt so good. Being held like that. Being worshipped like that.

You rub your temple and start looking through a drawer. You pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You rarely smoke and if you do, you do it with a purpose. To piss off your parents. To impress someone with smoke rings. To calm your head when stressed. You light up a cigarette and take in a deep breath.

“Care to share?”, Izuku's voice can be heard behind you. You don't respond but lift up the half-full cigarette pack up to him. You feel him stepping closer to you and taking the pack from you. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body on your back. He's not touching you but he's awfully close. You hear the clicking of the lighter and Izuku taking a pull of his cigarette.

A smoke ring wavers outside the window beside you. Then you feel his hand on your hip.

“That was intense.”, he tells you and you have to laugh.

“Yeah, I guess it was.”, you reply and take another drag.

Izuku snips some ash from his cigarette and you can't help but lean back against him. He presses a kiss into the base of your neck. His green hair tickles your skin.

“I wonder...”, he starts and you want to cringe. Izuku clears his throat.

“I wonder if you'd like to make this a regular thing.”, he says and you halt.

“What do you mean?”, you ask unsurely. Please don't ask me to start dating you, you beg internally.

“Us. Fucking.”, he replies and you turn around to him in disbelief. He must've noticed the surprised look on your face and he shrugs.

“You want good sex, didn't you say that? And I need to blow off some steam once in a while.”, he explains. A smirk blooms on your face.

“Wow, you're that confident in your expertise? Think you can keep me satisfied longterm?”, you tease him. Izuku lets go of your hip and puts a hand under your chin raising it a bit.

“Believe me, I haven't even started to show you what I can do.”, he tells you with darkened eyes. You raise your eyebrow challenging.

“I guess that means I have to find out.”, you tell him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @yupsthings @the-dumpster-fire-of-life @scrumptiouslampwobblercop @sillycattie @tiredjuniper @nine-lives715 @dinorawrss @tomiokasecretlover @kousloverr @whippedbyikemen @potatocatsan @orgasmofwine @otakukittyowo

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in possible future parts. If you're already on the tag list, you don't need to comment again.]

[desertfangs]

For the writing prompt thing: "may I have this dance?" with Lestat/Daniel

I know this took me a millennia to get to so I appreciate your patience. I'm still working on the rest of these as well. This is some Court Angst with Lestat/Daniel, featuring Louis/Armand, Louis/Lestat, and Armand/Daniel. All the angst and drama of that weird New Court Era. About 1600 words. Thank you for the ask/prompt!

Daniel shifts the collar of his shirt, trying in vain to loosen it. When that fails, he tugs at the hem of his velvet doublet instead. Marius and Armand had been delighted to dress him in purple finery and hose and Daniel enjoyed the process, but now that he’s stuck wearing the outfit all night, he feels awkward and uneasy, like he’s wearing a costume. 

Of course, everyone is dressed in various styles of historical finery. Pandora wears a bright orange dress layered over a cream-colored one, sandals on her feet, hair up like a Roman goddess. Marius is dressed in similar fashion, in a red and orange Roman tunic, his blond hair loose around his face, while Armand’s outfit is similar to Daniel’s, though rich blue in color, and his auburn hair is long and loose around his pale face. Daniel watches as his maker moves effortlessly across the room toward Louis, who looks like he’d stepped out of the French court in the 1700s. He pushes down a flare of envy at how Armand gravitates toward Louis so automatically these days. 

He continues scanning the crowd and spots Lestat not far away. Lestat is wearing leather: leather pants with studs on the pockets, a torn white shirt, and a leather jacket. It’s an interesting choice, given that most of the others look like historical reenactors, although an argument can be made that the 1980s are now a historical period. That’s a strange thought, and Daniel looks down at his own outfit, fashion from over five centuries before. How long until Lestat’s wannabe Billy Idol attire will look as antiquated? He laughs at the idea. 

Lestat raises an eyebrow and glances his way. He’s talking with Alain and Gregory, but he excuses himself and makes his way over to Daniel, who’s hovering against the wall.

“Something funny, Molloy?” Lestat asks, expression hard.

Daniel grins at him. “Just thinking how you look like you’re planning to host the MTV Video Music Awards.” 

Lestat frowns. “Do they still do those?” 

Daniel shrugs. 

“I’d make an excellent host. Perhaps I should call my agent.”

Daniel roles his eyes. 

Lestat smirks. “Although I see you’ve opted to dress like one of Marius’ kept boys. I’m sure he’s thrilled.” Lestat leans in and speaks right into Daniel’s ear. “No doubt he’s eager to get you alone.” 

Daniel elbows him in the side. “You’re the one in tight leather pants. Who are you hoping to lure in your bedroom this evening, huh?” Lestat turns his head almost automatically toward Louis and Armand, who are now dancing together in the middle of the dance floor. He stares at them for so long that Daniel adds, “If it’s Armand, you’re working too hard for it.” 

Lestat jolts, pulled from his thoughts. Daniel can’t read them since they both have their mental walls up but he can guess. He’s looking at Louis longingly, as if they’re estranged. Funny, because they were walking together in the village just last week. Wasn’t it last week? Time seems to compress itself here at Court, especially in the winters when the snow can be relentless. 

“Armand does look delectable in his little Venetian boy attire. I suppose you two make a nice matching set. Perhaps it’s your maker who has designs on getting you alone, hm?” Lestat smiles wickedly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I think he and Marius just like to put me in anything but jeans and t-shirts,” Daniel says honestly. Although both of them did give him long looks earlier this evening. 

The music switches from classical to a pop song Daniel recognizes. He thrusts his hand out toward Lestat. “May I have this dance?” 

Lestat takes his hand without hesitation and leads him to the dance floor, positioning them suspiciously close to Armand and Louis, who, with the change of music, are no longer clinging to each other. But they still dance together, a modern sort of dance common in nightclubs, which looks all the more fascinating in their getups. Daniel realizes he must look the same way. 

Lestat bops to the beat, moving right into Daniel’s personal space, practically grinding on him. It’s hot as hell and Daniel moves with him. 

Armand catches sight of Daniel and smiles at him until he sees who he’s dancing with. Then his expression turns stoney. Annoyed, maybe, or even jealous, though which one of them he’s jealous of is anyone’s guess. So many little jealousies here at Court, when everyone has so much love for each other. But then, Daniel is not immune. 

Hell, even seeing Armand dance with Louis now brings up those old feelings of resentment and loss, his frustration that Armand found such solace in someone else’s arms, while Daniel, mad and out of his mind, was hardly a blip on his radar. 

Lestat grabs Daniel’s face and turns his head so he’s looking at him, right into those intense blue-gray eyes. He smiles and then leans in, kissing him on the mouth before Daniel knows what’s happening. Not that he’s going to complain. His lips are soft and pliant as they move against Daniel’s, his tongue sliding into Daniel’s mouth eagerly. Daniel kisses him back, arms winding around him and soon they’re not dancing at all, but standing in the middle of the dance floor making out. Daniel pulls back when he realizes it, cheeks heating as they undoubtedly go a little red. 

Everyone is watching—of course they are! Lestat is the prince, everyone is always watching what he does!—but most of them have the decency to pretend not to be. Louis and Armand have stopped dancing, too, and Louis turns and walks away. 

Armand looks angry. 

Daniel isn’t sure why. It’s not like he and Lestat haven’t kissed (more than kissed) plenty of times before. Lestat turns and disappears into the crowd. Uneasiness worms through Daniel’s gut and he feels like he’s been played somehow, only he doesn’t know what the game is. 

“Sorry,” he mouths at Armand, who probably doesn’t see; he’s too busy staring daggers at Lestat’s retreating form. Yeah, Daniel definitely missed something. He slips off the dance floor, face flushed, and follows Lestat out of the ballroom and down the hall. He finds him standing out on a balcony. The air is freezing and a fresh coat of snow glitters on the ground down below. 

“What the hell was that?” Daniel demands. 

“I thought you always enjoyed our little dalliances.” Lestat keeps his back to him so Daniel walks up beside him and sees him clutching onto the railing. 

“What’s going on between you and Louis?” 

Lestat looks mildly surprised. “Doesn’t your maker tell you everything? You two are always sneaking off into dark corners and having intimate little meetings.” 

Daniel swallows uncomfortably. They’re off in corners, yeah, making out and actively not talking, because talking leads to dredging up all the shit they’ve yet to work out between them. Talking leads to fighting. They steal away into the nooks of the Chateau to kiss and touch in a setting that’s not conducive to talking. Daniel knows they need to move on from that but things are still new and strange, and the kissing is nice. 

“He didn’t mention anything,” Daniel says. 

Lestat stares at him, as if trying to judge if he’s lying. Then he turns around and hops onto the ledge of the railing, sitting on it effortlessly. “Louis is here to be my royal consort and yet as soon as your maker arrived, they’ve been inseparable.” 

Daniel sighs. That’s a bit of an exaggeration but Daniel understands what he means. Armand and Louis spent so much time together that they are entwined now in a way that Daniel and Armand used to be. He feels Lestat’s frustration. His jealousy. And he hates that he does. Armand and Louis were together long before Daniel was even born. It’s not their togetherness that incites such envy, but rather how they seem like a unit now, two parts of a set, and Daniel doesn’t know where he fits anymore. Obviously Lestat feels similarly. 

“Louis came here for you,” Daniel points out. 

“Did he?” Lestat scoffs. 

“Yes,” Daniel says. Daniel remembers how hurt Armand was by Louis’ decision to do so, and how, though he refused to say so, he hadn’t wanted Louis to leave Trinity Gate. 

Lestat is silent for a long moment. Then he reaches out and brushes a stray hair off Daniel’s velvet top. “He’s acting as if he doesn’t want to be here.” 

Daniel shakes his head. “He’s dressed in finery and at a ball at your behest. He’s making an effort.” Daniel looks down at his own clothes. “We all are. This is all so new. It’ll take some time to acclimate.” 

Lestat considers.

“Tell you what,” Daniel says, “I’ll go pull Armand into a corner for a bit and give you a chance to steal Louis away for a dance or two.” 

Lestat smiles. “Please. I can steal him from the little imp’s grasp anytime I desire.” 

“Then why are you out here sulking?” Daniel asks. 

Lestat punches Daniel in the shoulder. Daniel rubs his arm. Lestat jumps down from the balcony. “But you make a good point. I need to help Louis see what his role here at Court is meant to be.” 

Lestat grabs Daniel and kisses him on both cheeks, and then the lips again. Then he stalks off back toward the ballroom, leaving Daniel out on the balcony alone. He smokes a cigarette and then heads back inside.

When he reaches the ballroom, Louis and Lestat are dancing in the center of the room. Armand is off to the side, watching them with his intense amber eyes. Daniel touches his shoulder. He nods at the exit and then takes Armand’s hand in his and leads him out of the ballroom. Lestat spots them heading out and gives him Daniel a wicked smile. 

[yuurei20]

Epel Facts Part 37: Epel and Deuce (pt4)

As Epel and Deuce discuss blastcycles together during White Rabbit Fes and Grim observes, "They're in their own lil' world…"

(Their conversations seem to be describing vintage yankee fashion, and in the game guide Deuce is said to have a yankee influence. With Epel described as a “countryside juvenile delinquent” in the guide, both characters seem to have preferences for that aesthetic.)

(Epel even wonders if he might receive some of Deuce's old clothes in a voice line. Ace and Deuce's shared love for blastcycles also ties in to motorcycles often being associated with yankees.)

Epel says, "You'd never see a modded blastcycle back in Harveston" and "Bad kids and blastcycles were just something out of comics or TV shows. But then I started looking around on the internet. And I was shocked to find all that stuff was real! I was totally enamored," and one of his dreams was to "cruise around on blastcycles with my pals wearing matching leather jackets!"

(During the event he says that the White Rabbit Fes, with its matching outfits and "running wild," is just what he had always dreamed about: "Sure, there won't be blastcycles, and these costumes don't exactly scream 'bad boy.' But we're up against the toughest dudes in town!")

This explains Epel being enamored with Deuce before they met: Epel says he heard about a particularly troublesome person in Clock Town named "Cold One Duke," with whom he was "obsessed" when he was in middle school.

By the end of the event this revealed to have actually been "Cauldron Deuce," but Deuce denies it, and Epel never realizes that he is actually friends with his former idol.

Deuce says that he never imagined that Epel had “a hot-blooded streak” like his own, offering to introduce Epel to a talented embroiderer.

Deuce and Epel’s shared interest in fashion is touched upon throughout the game, with Deuce getting Epel a cap with a patch on it for his birthday, Epel gifting Lilia with a jacket with an embroidered tiger (that matches a jacket Epel himself owns) and Epel and Deuce shopping together for Trey’s birthday present: they get him a hat, after regrettably vetoing styles with spiked studs and embroidered flames that went over the gift budget.

Epel says that he is actually disappointed by Deuce's hometown, saying that he had "figured the town would be awash in modded blastcycles, with delinquents getting into fights all over the place."

Silver says Epel must have been hoping for a chance to protect his friends but Ortho observes, "I'm not sure protecting us was the first thing on Epel Felmier's mind..."

[ditzyredrobin]

Shrike Chapter 2

And the long awaited chapter 2! I am so sorry for the late posting—it’s been kind of a crazy couple of weeks. Good news! Chapter 3 is close to complete.

-

The night Batman and Nightwing were captured by Two-Face, Tim’s parents were on a dig in Northern Peru. Mayocumbe, if he remembered correctly. They were on a tour through South America, studying petroglyphs and other artifacts from ancient civilizations.

He never wanted to come between Batman and Robin, it wasn’t his place. Dick and Jason had been chosen, but Batman and Robin were two sides of the same coin (sorry, Harvey).

Without one, the other had a tendency to swing out of balance, they needed the other's gravity to stay in orbit and right now Bruce needed a Robin.

If Dick wasn’t going to do it, someone had too.

“I don’t know who you are,” Batman spat, forcibly striping him of his domino. “But you’re not my Robin. There is no more Robin!”

Tim stood there, holding up his hands, arms quivering because he had just held up a massive wooden beam for Batman and Nightwing to escape the wreckage of Two-Face’s house. He had just punched Two-Face and narrowly missed having his butt kicked and saved them.

“Batman, I only wanted to help because I care about you—I care about Robin.” Tim pleaded. “Bruce, please, listen to me.

“What did you say?” Uh-oh.

Tim swallowed hard around the tightness in his throat. Well, he didn’t mean to drop the “B” word just yet. “I know you’re Bruce Wayne and I know Nightwing is actually Dick Grayson. And…and I know what happened to Jason Todd.”

Bruce went rigid, a white line forming along his jaw. He didn’t know what he expected after revealing his idol's identities but Batman looking like he wanted to punch him wasn’t it.

Tim looked at Nightwing hanging weakly onto Bruce, but Nightwing wasn’t looking at him, in fact he seemed to be doing anything to avoid looking at the kid dressed up like his dead brother. Tim flushed and his eyes felt hot with embarrassment.

“Let’s go.” Batman snapped, jerking his head towards the only exit out of the rubble. “It’s not safe here for a civilian.”

A civilian. Right.

Tim followed Batman and Nightwing as they limped to meet Alfred who was waiting. “Sir, thank heavens Timothy helped free you.” He sounded relieved but frowned at the expression on Batman’s face. “Sir, you should have seen him confront Two-Face, you would have been proud. His instincts and acrobatic abilities are astounding-”

“What are you trying to do?” Bruce said, cutting him off. “What were you thinking, bringing him here? One boy has already died wearing that costume, I’m not taking that risk a third time.”

Alfred opened his mouth to speak but Tim beat him to it. “I never thought of becoming Robin. But with your training I can do it. Batman has to have a Robin.

“No.”

“But sir-”

“No, Alfred, and that’s final. Where is that written in stone? There’s no need for there to be a Robin-”

“Then is there for a Batman?” Alfred asked.

“That’s different and you know it.” Batman said sharply. “This isn’t something that is up for discussion.”

“Batman, please, it’s hard for me to say this—but since Jason died, everyone’s noticed how you’re…changed. I mean, how many times have you been hurt in these past few months?”

“So, for my sake, I should put some child in danger?”

“What? No, that not it-”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” Bruce said dismissing anything else he had to say--which was a lot “What I do is dangerous and I have no interest in discussing this further. Harvey is still free.”

Robin wasn’t just a uniform--It was a symbol, just as much as Batman, or Superman or the police. When one officer dies, another steps up to take his place because crime didn’t end, and justice could not be stopped. But, Bruce turned away.

“Sir, I really think-”

“Alfred, enough, take him home. We tracked Harvey here to his home. I don’t know where he’s gone but we don’t have much time. Nightwing, are you up for finding Harvey or do you need to go back with Alfred and the boy?”

Tim didn’t flinch. He definitely didn’t flinch.

Nightwing shook his head, again, very pointedly looking at anything, anyone, that wasn’t Tim red faced and dressed in Robin’s costume and Tim felt another little part of his soul shatter. Dick Grayson, his hero, his idol, his Robin couldn’t even look at him. “Do you really think I’d let you go this alone? I’m with you, Bruce.”

Batman grunted in response, turning to the Batmobile.

Alfred placed a reassuring hand on Tim’s shoulder, squeezing. “Before you go, I believe Timothy has something that may serve as some assistance on tracking down Mr Dent’s whereabouts.”

Right, the tracker.

Tim nodded slowly, watching for Bruce’s reaction. “I slipped a tracking beacon on him while we were fighting. You’ll just have to follow his signal.”

Bruce, for a long moment, looked like he was struggling to come up with a response, opening his mouth once, before closing it again. He frowned and sighed. “...Good job, Tim.”

At any other point in his life a good job from Batman of all people (seriously Batman), would have been a dream come true. I mean, it was Batman, the Dark Knight, savior of Gotham, but all he could do was look down at his green pixie boots, and try to not cry.

He wasn’t going to cry—he couldn’t cry.

He didn’t expect there to be a reward. Really, he didn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it. Never meet your idols, kids.

Nightwing and Batman took off in the Batmobile, Dick still not heeding him any attention, and Alfred walked him back to the dark green Rolls-Royce parked around the corner from the scene.

That night, Batman and Nightwing put Two-Face back in Arkham, and Tim learned two things:

2) Never meet your heroes

AND

1) Bat’s weren’t all they are chalked up to be.

So, waking up in the home of your once childhood idol, was not his definition of a good time.

[wooahaes]

to be together (even when it's hard)

pairing: non-idol!maknaes x gn!reader

genre: fluff/comfort + established relationship au (poly relatonship).

word count: 1.2k~

warnings: reader dealing with gross feelings (hinted depression). food mentions. reader and their loving, caring boyfriends.

daisy's notes: this ones for me i think

Of all the days to end up feeling like garbage, Halloween was… honestly probably not the worst day. After all, you weren’t the biggest fan—not like other people were. It was nice, you liked the aesthetic, but fuck if you didn’t enjoy other holidays a bit more. Still… it didn’t stop your loves from showing up to your apartment, having ditched a Halloween party early. Two of the three guys were wearing more low-effort costumes (Vernon shed the fangs and the cape as soon as he could, and Chan had shed his white sheet ghost costume ages ago), and that meant they’d cuddled up on both sides of you while Seungkwan was still getting changed. Vernon had already snuggled in, head resting on your shoulder while Chan held your hand.

“It was boring,” Chan said, playing with your fingers. “You wouldn’t have liked it, really. The playlist he put together wasn’t even that good, and there were way too many people—I’m sure he’s gonna get a noise complaint soon if he hasn’t already.”

“Uh-huh,” you’d admittedly stopped listening completely. Chan had been insisting the party was boring for the past ten minutes, ever since he threw himself into the spot next to you. It didn’t do much to make you feel better about them ditching.

“I mean it,” he said. “I kept telling them that we should just come back here to watch movies with you or something. Even the scary ones you like,” he squeezed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. “Seungkwan wanted to be social, though—He kept asking for a few more minutes because he had friends he wanted to say hi to.”

“That sounds like him.”

Vernon looked up at your face for a moment, watching you carefully. “He kept getting dragged into conversations,” he said. “It wasn’t like he could just walk away.”

“Right!” Chan immediately said, “Right—I know. I just…”

“It was frustrating,” Vernon nodded, settling back in again. “I wanted to ditch, too, but a couple people wanted to catch up.” 

“Are you talking about me?” Seungkwan stepped out of the bathroom, face washed and now dressed in cozy clothing. He threw his bag into a nearby chair, coming to stand before Chan. “Move over. It’s my turn to cuddle with them.”

You shook your head, looking up, “Seungkwan, you don’t have to—”

“I want to because it’s only fair,” he said, giving a pointed look at Chan. Chan rolled his eyes, moving over, and Seungkwan settled into the space next to you.

“I mean it,” you said. “You guys didn’t have to leave.”

“It was boring,” Chan said again. “I’m never going to that guy’s party again,” he huffed.

“You’re only saying that because they weren’t there,” Vernon hummed, smiling at you when you met his gaze for a moment. All of you could read Chan like a book. “You would not believe this guy—he kept complaining the entire time even before we decided to leave—”

“That’s not true!” Chan raised his voice, “it was boring! The guy didn’t even get real snacks!” 

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “Just say you missed them already,” he took your hand. “Now go get us some snacks.” 

You spoke up, “Seungkwan, I don’t have anything here.” 

He kept his eyes on Chan. “The store isn’t far.” 

Chan looked as though he was going to bicker over it for a moment, but he sighed, getting up. “Fine,” he said. “Vernon, come help.”

“I’m good—”

Chan grabbed his other arm, pulling him up. “No, you’re not. There’s four of us and I’m not carrying everything myself.” 

Vernon chuckled, letting go of you. “We’ll be back in a few.” 

Seungkwan merely nodded, snuggling into your side again. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes until the other two had left, to which Seungkwan pulled away, turning to fully face you.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you feel like talking now?”

“I was fine to talk when they were here—”

“We know how you are,” he said. “If you wanted to talk before, you would have. I’m not going to force you to, but you can talk to me if you need to.” 

With a sigh, you melted further into your couch. “I dunno. I just… I started feeling really bad a week ago, and I guess it all just hit me harder today. It’s not bad, though—I’ve been going to work, and the apartment isn’t a complete mess, so I’m fine. Just not feeling very social right now.”

Seungkwan took your hand in both of his, “Do you want us to go?”

“No, why would I—” You met his gaze. “You guys are the exception. You know that.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t ask for alone time,” he said, completely serious. “I was going to call you before we got here, but…”

You pulled your hand in, both of his still clasped around it, so that you could press a kiss against his knuckles. “I’m fine, Seungkwan. I mean it. If I wasn’t, I would say something. I promise.” 

He smiled a little, “Good. We love you,” he said outright, “and you can always come to us if you need us. So don’t forget that—”

The door to your apartment opened, and Vernon had rushed back in, already patting down your couch cushions. Without a word, he pulled his wallet out from where it must have fallen, and looked at you, holding it up.

“Sorry,” he said. Then he paused, noticing how serious the two of you must have been. “Everything good?” His gaze flickered to Seungkwan, and when you turned to look at him, Vernon spoke up again, “You two wanna come with? We can watch Halloween movies when we get back.”

“I dunno—”

“That includes the Charlie Brown one.”

Fuck. Vernon knew your weakness for one silly little beagle. “I’m in,” you said, pushing your blankets aside to get up. You paused, turning back to Seungkwan. “Unless you want to stay—”

He was already getting up, taking your hand. “I don’t mind going,” he said. “I was just going to make Chan go because he’d run.” 

Chan scoffed in offense from the doorway, arms crossed. “Just for that, I would have walked.” 

“That’s why I was going with him,” Vernon said, making his way back over. He leaned against the open entryway, watching as you let go of Seungkwan’s hands in order to slip into your shoes. “I’ll buy whatever snacks you want, by the way.” 

Chan rolled his eyes again. “You’re both making me look bad.”

“Nah,” you sounded off, standing back up. “You do that on your own.” 

It earned a laugh from the others and another offended scoff from Chan, but you’d slipped your hand into his all too easily. 

“But I like that,” you said softly, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek, “I like you just the way you are… even if you are a big dork.”

Chan’s annoyance melted all too easily as he stole a quick kiss from you, already pulling you down the hallway. “That goes for you, too,” he said, a little pushy in his tone. “We like you just the way you are, too.” 

Maybe Halloween wasn’t so bad if it brought these three dummies to you. At least they were your dummies at the end of the day.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @weird-bookworm

[mrs-monaghan]

https://twitter.com/parkordie/status/1714224017907839040

Nah cuz these drags won't work for Jimin lol

First of all, JIMIN is literally a unisex name which is especially given for baby girls in SK. So there's no need to add anything to make it more girly lmao. His name is commonly used by girls anyway.. we have many girl idols named Jimin but uses stage names because JIMIN is owned by mimi 🤷‍♀️

Second, people really think saying he looks like a woman is offensive ? The same person who asked 'what the heck is men ?', Regularly wears women clothing, drew a bigender tattoo on himself, thinks he looks beautiful when dressed as a girl, calls himself pretty, pretite and delicate, chose modern dance and ballet as his major which are not commonly done by men and is frowned upon in SK, repeated he's NOT manly multiple times in a single interview, likes to keep his body dainty, want to make his booty even bigger, used a woman as his reflection and is VERY fluid with his gender identity representation 🙄🙄 More than anyone else Jimin knows his feminine side and fucking embrace it proudly

If him, his dad and mom, his partner, his members, his freinds and his stans doesn't have a single problem with him not being the usual 'manly' guy then who tf have a problem with how he carries himself ?

The way it's mostly JK solos trying to drag him for this.. are they worried whether he'll steal their man or what 👀👀 or that their 'straight' man won't be able to resist a pretty Jimin around ? Is JK that weak for pretty dainty boys shaz ? 🤔

While reading your ask it took me back to this moment

(Thanks @sarah2711)

RM literally short circuited 🤣😂😂😂 I can't with this clip coz RM takes me out every single time. 😆😆😆😆😆 Dead.

(Me digressing in 1....2.....)

I am surprised that JK doesn't seem to be simping here considering the fact that Jimin was super pissed during this bomb

coz JK wanted him to be in that snow white costume so badly.

Analysis no one asked for in 1....2....

Okay so Jhope says loser will have to dress up as snow white. If you look at Jimin's face, he is not happy

But the best part for me is how JK is looking right at him 🤭🤭

Yes... so are RM and Jhope but there is a reason I'm highlighting JK 😆😆

So Jhope says how this was all JK's idea. But look at Jimin's face when he says "that's right"

This tells me Jimin knew why JK wanted him in that dress. He hee. Jin confirms that this idea is quite recent.

RM concurs adding in this little detail:

Thats the face of a cheeky man up to no good 🤭 Especially when Jhope repeats the rule... and while Jimin is frothing at the mouth 👇🏽 JK is watching him looking quite excited about the prospect of the loser being snow white

We know JK expected Jimin to lose because that's what happens more often than not. Jimin always looses in RPS and JK was counting on this happening. But Mimi wasn't having it and not only can u tell because of how mad he looks, but also because he does the tongue in cheek thing

And we all know depending on the context, this is usually a sign of annoyance.

So the members start to play and guess who JK is watching 😏😏

The reason why this analysis is most probably accurate is because of the face Jimin makes when JK wins dramatically

Did you see that? Okay I will clip just Jimin's face since he moves too quickly for a proper screenshot. But just look how done he is. Zoom in and u can see it even better.

For reasons only known to Jikook, JK really wanted Jimin to be snow white and Jimin was 1300% done with his boyfriend.

Is JK that weak for pretty dainty boys Shaz?

Hmm 🤔

Anon,

[pancakewithsprinkles]

Sam And Max Headcannons <3

WARNING!!!! THESE ARE ALL BASED ON LITERALLY NOTHING. NONE OF THESE HAVE ANY CANNON BACKING THEM UP

Max loves to draw, though he's on the artistic level of a kindergartener. He likes using crayons the most :)

Sam and Max are both autistic. In fact, the whole reason they got into this business is Sam's never ending hyperfixation on black and white detective films.

They always get icecream after a job to celebrate :)

The commissioner is literally just Steve Purcell

On halloween, they always go as themselves and see how many people they can trick into thinking they're just in costumes. It's always fun

Max likes babies :)

Sam could be making thousands selling his artwork, but he doesn't think its good. (its basically on par with the mona lisa I have no idea where he gets that idea from)

Their favorite icecream is orange dreamsicles :)

Max loves using slang in front of sam to watch him panic because he has No Idea what his little buddy is saying

Max is the top

They like M night Shyamalan movies

Max isn't allowed to listen to Caramel Dansen anymore because last time he did he got so hyper he nearly broke everything in the office

they own multiple of eachother's plushies

They love interacting with kids!! Sam always has police badge stickers in his pocket in case of a Child Spotting. Max also has pixiesticks on hand for the same reason. Sam has no idea if they're actually pixie sticks or if he's just giving kids hard drugs and he's too afraid to ask

Sam is terrified of the Vet. Its a whole day ordeal of Max having to trap, trick, and manipulate his way into forcing sam into the vet's doors. He always gets a chewtoy afterwards though cus he's a brave lil pup :)

Max likes going to the vet because he steals all the equipment

Sam is a giant frank Sinatra fan, listens to him All The Time. This has led to max hating frank sinatra.

Sometimes max will just latch onto sam like a damn parasite and Sam wont even know he's been latched onto him until Max says something. Its nearly given Sam a heart attack on occasions

Sam has a dog bed, and Max sleeps where ever he wants. Spots Sam has found him sleeping in include: The Fridge, On the roof, On his head (suffocating him), In the microwave, and in the fishbowl.

When max dries off after getting wet he looks like a gigantic puff ball. He hates it, and Sam always makes fun of him for it

Sam does the Snoopy Happy dance :)

Max loves being thrown around. Down the stairs, through a window, being spun until he's violently ill... you name it, he adores it.

Max cant swim, but he will lie till the end of time that he can, since he finds wearing floaties embarrassing. He usually drowns at least two times at pool parties

Max's idol is the shark from Jaws

Max loves putting stickers on things he loves! Which usually means himself and Sam are covered in them

If you ask either of them how old they are, they'll reply with "time is a concept" because they've honestly forgotten what age they are

Sam and Max both believe in santa (I guess this isn't a headcannon since they did see/kill him once but still I like it)

Max has the uncanny ability to sleep anywhere anytime he wants, including sleeping standing up.

Sam and Max met eachother at a playground because Max bit sam and said he wouldn't let go till they were best friends. I think you all know how the rest of the story goes

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

The Great Gatsby

April 27, 2024 | Broadway | Broadway Theatre | Evening | Musical | Original | 2H 30M

All the sparkly costumes and grandiose set pieces can't disguise this show's intellectually and musically filthy core. With a creative team that seems to have missed the entire point of Fitzgerald's book, Bad Gatsby is a Vegas spectacle best suited to theme parks and audiences bereft of critical thought. I have no loyalty to the source material. As a lesbian, I didn't much care for the book and its protagonist who seems disinterested in women, and spent pages waxing poetry about the male physique. But even I know it's a classic brimming with intellectual nuance, while this production is anything but. The relationship between Gatsby and Nick is now only ever a passing acquaintance, rather than the very foundation. The show's aggressive heterosexuality sees Nick and Jordan (a forcibly-feminized, pick-me girlboss type) romping about as Gatsby and Daisy, somehow even duller than the book (and how was that ever possible?) sing power ballads at and about each other that say nothing, and move the plot even less.

This adaptation of the beloved classic novel gleefully excises any and all purpose. Nick's idolization and homoerotic love for Gatsby drives the book's narrative. Here, he's doing basically nothing. My kingdom for a dramaturg who seems to actually like and understand the book, rather than someone who just wants to capitalize on it being newly public-domain. Why, oh why, do people keep adapting classics they clearly do not like? I don't like Gatsby, so I'd never bother to write a musical adaptation of it.

And speaking of music, it's ill-suited to both the period and the story. Everything is all contemporary pop ballad, and as someone who doesn't care about or know much of Jeremy Jordan, it's not working. Perhaps it's my blatant lesbianism and pretentious disregard for the allure of youth, but he's never seemed overly remarkable. He's a white male tenor. There are fifteen-thousand who look and sound just like him. But from the constant shrieking up in the mezzanine, you'd have thought the Beatles had come back for a one-night-only reunion. Thankfully, in my front side-orchestra section, I was surrounded by older patrons who politely clapped and refrained from any such screaming. Also, Jeremy Jordan's accent is all over the place, and I can't imagine why.

The shallow production that sits in the (possibly cursed, at this point) Broadway Theatre, has been robbed of its social commentary, its purpose, its depth. The characters are caricatures, the subtext is spelled out on a chalkboard (A song entitled "The Green Light"???) and is in some fascinating way, a meta commentary in and of itself. A massive budget allows for not one, but two working cars to drive around on stage. The glitz and glam blinded the creatives to anything...creative.

And don't even get me started on the baffling decision to cast a Mexican-Asian woman as Daisy, the quintessential image of white privilege. What are we saying by having Eva Noblezada in that role? It's such a thankless role that it's not like her talents are being utilized. And her character is so weak and dull, even more so than the book itself. And she's out here doing a hit-and-run, and yet we're just gonna...gloss right over that, I guess? And Nick's disgusted by Jordan saying they shouldn't tell the police what they know, but then immediately goes to plead with Gatsby to get out of town? Having done no work in the show to justify this loyalty, it's just inconsistency.

Also, and now I'm just jumping around to things I didn't like, the scene where Gatsby gets shot is staged so that Wilson is pointing and shooting that gun right at the front right orchestra section. And staring down the barrel of a gun is not what I want to be doing on a Saturday evening at 10:30 p.m. He shoots that thing twice while pointed at the audience, and no thanks.

Anyway, the Florence Welch Gatsby is at the ART now, so let's hope that one actually understands the damn book.

Verdict: Someone Put This Dumpster Fire Out

A Note on Ratings

[twilghtkoo]

in which, it’s the first day of fall and you really wanna get into the spirit of spooky season

pairings. idol!haechan x reader (f)

genre. suggestive??, implied smut, established relationship

warnings. haechan is horny, pouty haechan bc… also not proofread cus im lazy

-

it is the first of october, it’s the end of summer, it is fall. weather will be getting cooler, leaves will start to change colors and fall. your tv channels will start playing the seasonal spooky movies and shows. it’s your favorite season. and in your way to celebrate this big day, for you, is to go to the store and splurge on all the fall things. as well as dragging your boyfriend.

“are you busy halloween? should we do couple costumes?” you eagerly ask your boyfriend, who’s walking in sync with you with his arm hanging over your shoulder.

“you should dress in something hot.” he suggests, poking your sides that’s holding an iced coffee that you and him are sharing.

you roll your eyes at his suggestion, but you mentally take note on finding a costume to surprise him with.

while pushing the shopping cart, you both walk all the way to the back of the store where the halloween section is. the orange and black decorating the section of the floor, making you feel nostalgic, making you smile involuntarily.

your eyes set upon one thing, making you gasp and leaving haechan behind as you quickly push the cart. “baby! look, matching halloween socks!” you exclaim, staring at the big pile of a variety of halloween socks. ones with black cats, pumpkins, ghosts, skeletons, bats, you name it.

you didn’t get a response back, figuring that haechan went to look around another aisle. shrugging, you continued to dig through the pile for cute pairs of socks for you and haechan to match.

“baby, let’s get you this costume.” you hear haechan behind you.

turning around, haechan is holding up a black spider-man body suit. the random lady on the picture of the costume is doing the signature spider-man web shoot pose.

you scoff, “no.” 

“why not? fuck you’d look so hot.” he whines. he huffs, tossing the costume back on the shelf.

you smirk, ignoring him as you slowly walk through the costumes aisle.

“how about you wear this?” you grin, holding up the minion inflatable costume against his chest. 

cackling with the image of him in it embedded into your brain already. he looks down at what you’re holding only to push your hands away with a pout.

you smirk, putting it back on the shelf. haechan grabs your arm as he clings to you, he nuzzles his head on your shoulder, the top of his head is tickling your neck from his hair.

“come on, i can be mj and you be peter.” 

“isn’t it supposed to be the other way around,” you question. “peter.” teasing him with his english name. you know damn well, haechan just wants to be tamed like the brat he is. lord only knows what’s going through your boyfriend’s mind right now and why on earth he’s horny right now. 

you’re not judging, just enjoying him suffering with his thoughts.

“i’m not paying for it.” you simply state, casually walking away to another aisle with fall decorations.

lightly implying that, you won’t buy it but if you do i’ll wear it.

haechan perks up, grinning as he turns around to grab the costume in your size to place it inside the cart, triumphantly. he catches up to you as you place a small, clay, kitten that has a white cloth over it, and two holes cut out for its eyes. it’s ears poking through the cloth. you don’t know where you’re going to put this in your house. but it looked at you. and it’s cute. so in the cart it goes.

as he involuntarily smiles at your cute interests, he goes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, peppering light kisses against the top your head then down towards your neck. 

he nudges your hair out of his way with his nose, before his lips attack your neck. you still in your spot, your eyes wandering the store to see if anyone is around you both. you’re pretty sure you would die of embarrassment if someone spotted you. 

you elbow him in his side, he only grunts in pain but his lips never detach from your skin. “can’t you wait til we’re at home or in the car.” you whine, but don’t put much effort in stopping him.

he knows your enjoying this just as much as him.

you can feel the heat pooling in your underwear, huffing. “ugh, let’s go pay for this and go.” you push him away before practically rushing to the front of the store to self-checkout. haechan watches you from behind as he follows behind at his own pace. his hands in the pockets of his joggers.

he’ll take you back to the store tomorrow and buy whatever the fuck you want, but right now he wants you.