#i love boys who sparkle
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darkwoodlandz · 6 months ago
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Crying, sobbing, screaming rn
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itissadbutitsmy-artblog · 9 months ago
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it;s all wizard city? always has been.
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choccorin · 4 months ago
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...........................
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transgender-catboy · 1 year ago
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Hey can I go crazy for a minute? Cool thanks
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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JRATKSOTSJTSJTSYRSURAITSITSITDJFXUVHVIFJBGCNXDTDHXHCAAAAAAAAHHHHHBARKBARKBARKBARKARFARFARFARFNDJDJFIDIEBFJDNEJWIDBF
okay I shall continue this freakout in the tags
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bandanad33 · 2 years ago
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oc posting!! something is profoundly wrong with him <3
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madaqueue · 2 months ago
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18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)
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virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?
“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?
virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.
with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.
“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.
virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.
virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”
“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.
virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.
virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”
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a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this
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coffee-and-geto · 2 months ago
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LET ME WARM YOU UP
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summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?
cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).
wc: 721
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When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.
Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.
“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”
Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?
Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.
He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.
The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.
“Will that be all, young man?”
Satoru nods.
“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”
A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”
Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.
He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.
He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.
With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.
“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.
You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.
“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.
“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”
He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.
Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.
Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.
Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.
“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.
“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.
“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”
“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”
Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.
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a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33
likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422
@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar
@monokaix
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beloveds-embrace · 4 months ago
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part 2 of baker!reader + do not ever ask me to write accents lmao i suck at those 💀😭 and a huge thank you to all the sweet and dessert suggestions! i couldn't add all of them, but oh my god did i love all of them and choosing between them was sooo hard (that's what she said). if your dessert didn't make it here im soo sorry 😭
It was a quiet morning when you finally decided to reopen the bakery. The town had been whispering, speculating about the sudden disappearance of your husband—tragic, they said, to be found mauled by a bear in the woods. You hadn’t shed a tear, hadn’t flinched at the news. Maybe that was cruel of you, but after what you had endured, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for him anymore. Not fear, not sadness—just relief.
And now, with the bakery open once again, you felt lighter. Freer.
The 141 boys were there first thing, as you had hoped. Each one walking into the cozy space like they belonged there. Their heavy, winter boots made the wooden floors creak, their towering frames somehow making the space feel intimate rather than intimidating. You smiled as the familiar smell of fresh bread and sugar lingered in the air, the warmth of the ovens cocooning you and the rest of the bakery in comfort. Free from that terrible man you’d called a husband, it was as if the world itself was taking on a more vibrant color.
“Morning, sweetheart,” John greeted you, his eyes crinkling beneath his hat, though there was something watchful in his gaze.
“Bonnie,” Johnny chirped, leaning on the counter, his eyes sparkling as they usually did when he spoke to you. “Place smells heavenly as always.”
“You’re open today, huh?” Kyle said, grinning as he eyed the display of pastries lined up neatly behind the glass. “Missed our favorite baker, honestly.”
Simon didn’t say anything at first, just gave you a long, steady look from behind his mask. You knew he had seen the signs. He was the only one who had seen the bruises, had taken your hands so gently that day and whispered that promise. You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t said anything in return, but you had trusted him all the same. You are glad you did. You are so glad it’d been him to see.
Now, as you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter, your heart was lighter than it had been in months. “Everything’s on the house today,” you said, your smile wider than it had been in ages. “For you guys, at least. After all… I’ve got a few new things for you to try.”
Soap raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so? Then we’re in for a treat, eh boys?”
You went back to the counter, pulling out a few trays and plates, your hands moving quickly as you started setting them down in front of the men, watching their eyes light up at the spread. “I’ve been experimenting,” you said, your voice light, almost teasing. “For John, I’ve got pecan pie. Thought you might like it—something a bit rich, a bit warm.” Like you, goes unsaid but you hoped he still heard it.
John’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the slice you placed in front of him. “Always knew you were a mind reader,” he murmured with a chuckle, cutting into the pie and taking a bite. The smile that spread across his face was slow, but appreciative.
“For you, Kyle, lemon meringue tarts. Something sharp, refreshing. A little tangy,” you said, setting the plate in front of him. “And a bit sweet, too. Had a feeling you’d like it!”
Kyle laughed, picking up the tart and admiring it at first. “You know me too well.” He took a bite, his eyes widening at the burst of lemon on his tongue and then groaning in delight. “Perfect, as always.”
Simon watched you closely, and when you placed a plate of apple fritters in front of him, his gaze softened just slightly. “Made these with you in mind,” you said, your voice gentle. “Thought you’d appreciate something classic, Si. Simple, but comforting.”
He didn’t say anything at first, just nodded in that way of his, taking the fritter in his gloved hand. When he took a bite, his eyes closed briefly, and you could see the silent approval in the way his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.
“And for you, Johnny,” you giggled, setting down a small bowl of Cranachan in front of him. “Thought you might like something traditional- whisky, raspberries, oats, and cream. Feels like a bit of home, doesn’t it? At least I hope so. It was my first time making it.”
Johnny beamed all the same, eagerly reaching for a spoon. “Ah, bonnie, you’re spoiling us.”
But it wasn’t just them you were thinking of. You had made a fresh batch of focaccia bread for yourself, but this wasn’t just any bread- it was bold, spiced with rosemary and topped with chilli flakes and garlic. It was a reflection of your own newfound boldness. You’d been quiet, subdued for so long. Now, you wanted to feel alive again.Perhaps it might seem corny, but this focaccia bread meant to signify that for you.
You set a slice of the focaccia on a plate for yourself, taking a bite as you sat with them, your smile not faltering for a second. It was savoury- settling warmth in your stomach. “I think this might be my new favorite, actually.” you said with a soft laugh. In your mind, you were already thinking of making and selling more of it.
They didn’t say much in response, still tasting their own desserts, but you could feel their appreciation, their understanding, in the quiet way they accepted it.
The rest of the bakery was alive with the smell of freshly baked treats: rich brownies, soft sugar cookies, fluffy cronuts, and delicate eclairs. Tres leches cakes sat next to pumpkin pies, while apple and custard empanadas filled the air with their sweet, warm scent. Cheesecakes, cardamom rolls, strawberry lamingtons—the selection was almost overwhelming, but everything sold well. Especially the bear claw pastries. You smiled softly to yourself at the irony. The bearclaw pastries might also be your new favorite, right alongside the focaccia.
Johnny noticed it immediately, the little twitch of your lips, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, bonnie?”
You waved him off, shaking your head. “Oh, nothing. Just… the bear claws. They’ve been selling really well lately. Thought it was… fitting.”
Simon’s eyes flicked to you, then to the bear claw pastries sitting neatly in a display case. A slow understanding crossed his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just a slight nod, the corner of his mouth twitching, the silent acknowledgment of the truth that you all shared. You had no doubt the others knew about it as well- maybe even had a hand in it. Such incredible men.
And for the first time, standing in your bakery, surrounded by warmth and the quiet camaraderie of the men you had come to trust, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The past was behind you. Now, you had a future to look forward to—one filled with new beginnings, layers to unfold like a mille-feuille crepe cake, and the quiet reassurance that you were no longer alone.
“Here’s to new beginnings,” you said, raising your cup of coffee, your smile bright and genuine.
The boys raised their cups in return, their expressions soft but full of unspoken promises. “To new beginnings,” they echoed, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. Especially because you could see the way they were looking at you.
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luveline · 5 months ago
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hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 
Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 
You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 
What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 
James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 
“Love, for sure.” 
“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 
“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”
James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 
Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 
“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 
Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 
“She did it to me, too.” 
Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 
“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 
“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 
The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 
James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 
“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 
“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 
“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 
“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 
“We can go back.” 
“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 
Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 
“I love you,” you say. 
Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 
“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 
“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 
“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 
Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 
Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 
You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 
“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 
“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 
Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 
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trashytracktales · 2 months ago
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Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.
The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛
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𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.
𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k
𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.
As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.
Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.
McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.
While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.
Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.
Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.
Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.
She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.
Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.
She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.
“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.
She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”
His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.
She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.
However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.
“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.
Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.
Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.
“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.
Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.
“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.
“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.
She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.
“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”
“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.
He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.
Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.
“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.
His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.
Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.
Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.
At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.
His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.
Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.
Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.
He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.
Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.
His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.
The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.
She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.
“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”
Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.
Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.
“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.
Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”
She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.
Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.
His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”
Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”
A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.
She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.
Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.
She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”
“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.
“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”
She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.
“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”
Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.
“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”
As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.
Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”
“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.
“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”
It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.
For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.
Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.
Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.
“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.
His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”
Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.
“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.
“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”
She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.
She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”
With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.
When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.
A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.
But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.
Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.
Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.
“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.
His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”
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PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT
MASTERLIST
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Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2024
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infictionalwonderland · 7 months ago
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The BAU team meeting Hotch’s younger gf who looks like she walked off the front cover of a magazine & she’s so bubbly and has a really comforting energy! How would they react????
The satisfying little clicks of heels against the marble floor wasn’t enough to gain any of their attention usually, but accompanied by the delicately enchanting chimes of true laughter and sweet smell of baked goods—eyes were immediately lifting to investigate to the scene.
“Thank you so much!” An incredibly sweet, honeyed voice gushed genuinely, “here, all of these are meant for my boyfriend but I’m sure he won’t even notice.”
The team traded immensely interested looks as they surveyed the scene, Anderson (who was uncharacteristically blushing a bright flustered cherry red) was being handed a chocolate chip muffin by—wow—a startlingly gorgeous young women who was dressed in inviting soft colours and had a large sweet smile on her face that served to emphasise her lovely appearance.
“My day just got a hundred times better.” Derek grinned, swivelling his chair sideways to speak to the rest of his team while barely taking his eyes off you.
“You’re telling me.” Emily’s mouth hung open a little as she leaned forwards on her elbows to look at you more closely.
“Behave.” JJ scolded before her brief look of reprimand melted under Emily’s pointed stare, “she’s looks so sweet I just wanna eat her.”
“She has a boyfriend.” Spencer reminded them.
“What—?”
“Pretty boy—you and—“
“Oh—oh, no!” Spencer flustered, sputtering out the gulp of his coffee he had in his mouth (JJ handed him a napkin with a mothers readiness). “Not—I would be absolutely honoured—and—and, for lack of a sensical phrase, over the moon, to have a romantic relationship with a woman such as her but—no, unfortunately. She—she said a few moments ago that has a boyfriend.”
“Ah.” Emily blinked, a slow almost sheepish smirk on his lips, “I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, just watching her lips move.”
“Preach sister.” Derek leaned forward for a fist-bump which Emily easily gave, both of them nodding in solidarity.
“Hello!” They all startled heavily as your gentle, happy voice chimed now much closer to them and mouths dropped subtly at just how beautiful you looked up close.
“Well hello sweetheart.”
“H-hi.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
“Hello!”
You blinked at them, an adorable giggle leaving you at the onslaught of greetings that came all at once. “Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where Aaron Hotchner’s office is would you?”
“Hotch?” Emily furrowed her brows at you curiously and then seemed to forgot about, well, any of anything she was thinking as your bubbly smile and sparkling eyes turned her way and you gave a cheerful ‘yep!’ “Um—just, up those stairs, the first door at the top.”
“Thank you very much.” You told her, voice as sweet as the packet of fizzy haribos hidden in her desk. “It was lovely meeting you all, we’ll probably be better acquainted later on.”
With a sparkly mischievous twinkle in your bright eyes and another adorable giggle, you took off in a small spin that sent the enchanting mix of your perfume and the baked goods wafting over to all of them and they all watched, entranced, as you climbed the steps to their boss’ office.
After several seconds of dazed silence, Spencer gasped.
“Boyfriend—“
“Yeah I wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend either.” Derek murmured. “At all—really, no sweat off my back.”
“Hotch.”
JJ’s mouth dropped open as she realised where Spencer was going with his train of thought, rolling back in her chair as they pointed at him in realisation.
“Oh my God!”
“Hotch—hotch, is her boyfriend..?” Spencer sounded extremely confused, mouth falling open and closing repeatedly.
“Huh?”
“Reid, you are having a giggle.”
“No, he’s right.” JJ confirmed, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “She said she was here to see her boyfriend and she’s gone to see Hotch. . 2 plus 2 equals. .”
“. . An incredibly brokenhearted Derek Morgan.” Derek’s own mouth dropped open, craning his neck to see what was going on in the office of his boss before realising that Hotch had shut the blinds. Derek gasped, that sneak.
“And a flummoxed Emily Prentiss.”
“But she’s so—“
“Yeah.”
“And he’s like—“
“Literally!”
“Well, the last few months Hotch has been incredibly more relaxed, in fact his percentage of smiles given has gone up from a measly 30% to almost 84%, his laugh quota has reached high yet levels than I’ve ever known it to be. I had also noted that every Thursday he never goes home as late as he usually retires for the day and with this new revelation of a relationship—I assume this correlates to their date nights.”
“It does.”
Everyone turned in their chairs quickly to face their boss who now stood outside his office a faintly amused smile curving up his lips, at his side was you and you were wearing an amused and loving smile, eyes practically sparkling after Spencer’s speech on your boyfriend’s behaviour as they flickered up to said boyfriend beside you who looked down at you with soft, fond eyes.
“So you figured out my secret.” You grinned at them all, taking in Spencer’s red cheeks and Emily’s flabbergasted, dazed stare. “I’m Y/N, Aaron’s girlfriend!”
“Doesn’t that just crush a man’s hopes and dreams.” Derek pouted quietly to himself, straightening up in alarm when his boss’ intense eyes zeroed in on him.
“Honey, this is JJ—“ The blonde gave a warm, welcoming smile and a wave, “Spencer,” said genius gave a tight lipped awkward smile, hands flailing awkwardly and cheeks a burning fiery red, feeling this pulse thump when they smiled back directly at him, “Emily and Derek.” Both of the aforementioned gave waves with half flirty-ish smirks and half genuine smiles.
The door to Rossi’s office opened and when he stepped out and saw you beside Aaron he smiled happily, walking towards you both.
“Ah, Y/N!” He took you into an embrace, kissing both of your cheeks. “You get more beautiful every time I see you, is this big brute treating you right?”
“Always, Dave.”
He patted you on the shoulders, smiling, before turning to Aaron who was rolling his eyes at him fondly.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Rossi!” Emily’s astounded voice exclaimed, “you—know Y/N—you knew about this—“
It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he continued walking to descend down the stairs, tutting at her disappointedly.
“You thought I wouldn’t?” He countered, “who do you think encouraged him to go for it?”
You laughed at that and your boyfriend smiled down at you fondly, looping an arm around your waist—seemingly forgetting he was in his place of work and needed to keep up the facade of stone cold, emotionless boss.
“What—Rossi—get back here—“ Derek leaped up from his seat and trailed after the older man.
“What, you gonna come watch me take a leak?”
“If it means we get some answers!”
“Shoo parassita.”
All you could do was laugh again, smiling up at your boyfriend as his arm tightened around your waist and he pulled you closer into his side. You were very happy with your decision to come and deliver baked goods to him.
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cxffecoupx · 5 days ago
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seungcheol's mad. the members know just how to calm him down.
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"YN! yn! you need to come to the practice room right now. seungcheol's furious!"
that's all you need to know before you leave your office in the pretext of grabbing lunch and head towards seungcheol's company building. even in the crazy traffic of the afternoon, the only thing running in your mind is the image of your angry boyfriend, eyes wide and lips pouted in annoyance.
which is exactly what greets you when you reach the boys' usual dance practice room that seungkwan called you to. you push open the door and see a few of them sitting down, faces pale from exhaustion, a few scattered doing some random tasks, and jeonghan standing next to seungcheol, chewing on his lips.
but seungcheol doesn't notice anything: he doesn't notice the way chan gently tugs at his shirt; the way his teammates take tense, heavy breaths in worry; the way jeonghan now pats his back, and certainly not your arrival into the room. you sidle over to seungkwan, who's face melts into relief at seeing you. he pulls you aside to brief you about the situation.
"the thing is, last week, we were told that we could take tomorrow off. but then they came in a few minutes ago, saying that we'd have extra practice tomorrow, since they pushed the broadcast recording a week earlier," he takes a moment to pause and looks over at seungcheol, who's still very unaware of everything around him.
"hyung's losing his mind because we'd all made individual plans for tomorrow. some of us were gonna go home for the weekend..." seungkwan's lips turn into a pout as he becomes aware of the fact that now he won't be able to. you turn around to look at your boyfriend.
"i want you to tell us why you preponed the date without consulting us first. it's not the extra practice we're worried about. it's the fact that you didn't care to ask us in the first place! aren't we the artists- no, i need you to listen to me right now- don't tell me to calm down!"
your lips press together in concern as you walk over to him. he doesn't see you even when you're standing right beside him, more intent on getting his point across.
"we've been working overtime since last month..."
"seungcheol..." you call him.
"...and yet, we haven't gotten a single break day-
"seungcheol."
"-and then you expect us to do our best and get more wins-"
"love..."
you hold his chin with your hand and gently turn his face towards you. the sudden shift in his glance is noticed only by you. the angry, outraged expression of his turns into a soft, meek look with just a single touch, sparkles automatically forming in his eyes as they focus on you. the staff beside you bows and leaves the room. your eyes follow them until they shut the door before moving back to his.
he slumps into your hand as you lean in to press a kiss, and wraps his around you, body feeling heavy. jeonghan nods and you lead seungcheol out into the breakroom.
his face still hangs low, lips losing their pout only when you press your lips to them. his frown turns into the smallest of smiles.
"thanks for getting me out of there. i was starting to lose my mind."
"kwan told me you were furious. i had to come running," you hold his cheek and he leans into your touch. his stomach grumbles in response.
"you might have been a little hangry back then. come on, let's get you some food," you drag him out of the building to a cafe nearby you often visit.
"sho you mean to shay you'd alwaysh come for me?" he mumbles through a mouthful of the hideously large croissant he'd ordered, a few crumbs and some chocolate filling dusting his lips.
"i don't like to be rushed..." you lean forward to wipe it off with your thumb with a fond smile, before licking it off.
"...but for you, i'd always come running."
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inspired from this video on twitter (that completely, absolutely destroyed me because LOOK AT HIM?! adorable pouty cutie pie
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verdantchan · 19 days ago
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Always You
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Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader
Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…
Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie
Wc: 2.7k
a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪
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‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.
Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.
You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.
You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.
‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’  Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.
‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.
‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.
Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together. 
They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty  and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed. 
You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two. 
He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest. 
‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie
 ‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies. 
It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.
��You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck. 
You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell. 
‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.
‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’
‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?
‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’  his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.
‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes. 
‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you. 
’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him? 
‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’ 
‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing. 
‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away
Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below. 
‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly,  messy waves falling in his face. 
You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything. 
“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.
You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow. 
‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.
‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed. 
You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric. 
“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.
‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.
He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away 
‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.
‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole,  your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more 
‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting. 
‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size 
‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you. 
 ‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’ 
‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure. 
‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.
‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily. 
‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick.. 
‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high  
You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue. 
‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.
He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy. 
Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it. 
‘’It's always been you y/n’’
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-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe
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txrully · 18 days ago
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I'M FALLING FOR YA
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·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they realized they fell for you
·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness
·˚ ༘ ꒱ song inspo falling for ya - grace phipps
·˚ ༘ ꒱ note reader's gender is not mentioned
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·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi
it was that one time you stayed up all night helping him with his game analysis. you had zero clue what you were looking at, but you sat beside him, nodding like you totally understood his football jargon. you even brought snacks and drinks, acting like his personal cheerleader. at some point, you fell asleep on his shoulder, and yoichi just froze.
his heart did that stupid little flutter, and he thought, oh. oh no.
that’s when it hit him—you're his biggest supporter, even when you don’t have to be. and yeah, he’s doomed.
"y/n, you… you didn't have to stay up with me."
"shut up and eat your chips, striker boy."
"...i think i love you."
"what?? i didn't hear you-"
"nothing."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru
bachira knew he was done for when you didn’t look at him like he was weird. you two were at an arcade, and he got way too into a rhythm game, like full-on dancing, spinning, doing the most. people were staring, but you? you were hyping him up like he was the main act at a concert.
when you jumped onto the machine with him, laughing like you didn't care who was watching, he swore his heart did a backflip. you got him. no judgment, no weird looks, just pure chaotic energy.
"y/n, let’s run away and start a dance crew!"
"bet. can we get matching outfits?"
"...i think i’m in love with you."
"*le gasp* :'0"
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin
rin never thought he'd fall in love, but then you stood up for him. it was after a tough match, and some guys were trash-talking him like they had no fear of death. before he could even say anything, you stepped in with the most savage comebacks known to mankind.
rin watched in awe (and lwk horror) as you verbally obliterated them. and when you turned back to him all nonchalant like "what? they were asking for it," he realized… yeah, you’re everything.
"you didn’t have to do that."
"of course i did, no one talks about my man like that."
"...your man?"
"uh, don’t overthink it, rin. :')"
spoiler: he overthought it.
·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro
nagi realized he loved you when you dragged him out of bed to watch the sunrise. he groaned and complained the entire time, but you didn’t let up. you pulled him outside with a blanket wrapped around him, sat him down, and pointed at the sky like it was the most important thing in the world.
and then he looked at you—eyes sparkling, a soft smile on your face—and suddenly, the sunrise didn’t matter anymore. he just wanted to stay like this forever.
"see? wasn’t this worth it?"
"hm? yeah, yeah, totally..."
"are you even looking at the sky?"
"...uh huh. definitely."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo
reo fell in love when you saw him—not the money, not the status, not mikage reo, just reo. he tried to impress you with fancy gifts, expensive trips, the whole deal, but you just rolled your eyes and told him you’d rather chill at home and watch movies with instant ramen.
he realized right then and there that he didn’t need to buy your love, because you already gave it to him freely. and for once, he felt like someone wanted him for him.
"you really don’t care about all this rich guy stuff?"
"reo, i literally just wanna watch a rom com and eat snacks."
"...i think i wanna marry you."
"woah."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma
it was the time you challenged him to a race. he was used to people treating him like he was delicate, scared of pushing him too hard, but you? nah, you sprinted ahead without warning, shouting, "catch me if you can, speedster!"
he hadn’t felt that rush in a long time—the pure joy of running alongside someone who believed in him, not his injuries. when he finally caught up, breathless and laughing, he knew he was completely, utterly in love.
"hyoma, you’re getting slow!"
"oh? you wanna bet on that?"
"loser does whatever the winner says for a week."
"...i’m winning."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo
hiori fell in love the day you told him it was okay to take a break. you found him staring at his playbook, stress all over his face, and instead of telling him to push through, you took his hand, dragged him to the couch, and put on his favorite movie.
no pressure, no expectations—just you, showing him it’s okay to breathe. and that’s when it hit him… you were his safe place.
"you don’t always have to be perfect, hiori."
"...but i want to be."
"you already are to me."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei
shidou fell in love when you actually kept up with his chaos. everyone else called him reckless, but you? you matched his energy, throwing playful insults right back and even out-pranking him at times.
one day, you flipped him off mid-match in a video game, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. someone who could handle his crazy? sign him up.
"keep staring, shidou, maybe you’ll play better."
"i’m staring ‘cause i think i’m in love."
"you’re insufferable."
"and you’re stuck with me."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae
sae’s moment was when you called him out on his nonsense. no one dared to, but you? you told him to quit being a jerk and actually open up for once.
instead of brushing you off like he usually did with people, he found himself listening. something about you made him want to be better. and that terrified him—but it also made him realize he was falling hard.
"sae, just admit you care."
"...shut up."
"i'm calling shidou."
"...i care."
"knew it."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser
kaiser fell for you when you didn’t fall for his charm (weirdly enough). everyone else ate up his flirty lines, but you hit him with a deadpan stare and a sarcastic comeback that left him reeling.
it was the first time someone saw past his ego and actually challenged him. and wow, he was obsessed.
"y/n, admit it, you love me."
"i love peace and quiet, michael."
"so... not me?"
"hm, i'll get back to that later ."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness
ness knew he was in love when you defended him. not as kaiser’s shadow, but as ness. you shut down anyone who tried to treat him like an afterthought, and for once, he felt like he mattered—not just to the world, but to you.
"thanks for standing up for me."
"always, ness. you deserve it."
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© txrully
do not copy/translate/repost my works
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1K notes · View notes
elikajinnie · 1 month ago
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P: Situationship!Heeseung X Fem!Reader (recommended age 18+)
Warnings: Situationship, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Tension, Flirting, Mature Content, Pursuing, Possessive & Needy Behaviour, Jealousy if you squint, Alcohol Consumption, Mentioned Drug Use.
Wordcount: 22k
Synopsis: For years, Lee Heeseung had been in your life—never close enough to be a friend but too familiar to be a stranger. You told yourself you weren’t interested, that he didn’t matter to you. But Heeseung had other plans cause he made it his mission to claim your attention—and eventually your heart. But love is never easy.
a/n: was watching the iconic Kuch Kuch Hota Hai when this idea came! (dont ask how) i also wanted to try something new with the title. (disclaimer! some of the scenes are written from experience)
now playing: truth or dare by tyla | friends by chase atlantic | awkward by sza | bloodline by ariana grande | twenty nights by nobu woods | gi faen by ballinciaga
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School hierarchy never interested you—peaking in high school, the whole "king of the cafeteria" nonsense. Why would it? None of that mattered after graduation. You always thought it was a waste of time, all those petty dramas and desperate attempts to be remembered as something more than ordinary.
And yet, somehow, you were known, not because you clamored for attention or played into the social games everyone else seemed obsessed with, but because...well, you were you. Quiet, maybe. Not invisible, though. People knew your name, knew your face, even if you couldn’t recall theirs at times. Maybe it was the way you never fumbled over your words when teachers called on you or the way your presence seemed calm. You didn’t try to stand out, but you were noticed, even if you never asked for it.
Made you wonder what made you noticed.
And that question was solved pretty quickly, to be honest. All because you knew Heeseung since you were young.
And Heeseung? Heeseung was everything you’d expect from someone at the top of the high school food chain. Popular, effortlessly so. Basketball captain, the school’s golden boy, practically born to be the main character in someone’s coming-of-age movie. But beyond all that, he was still totally derpy—the same kid who used to trip over his own feet at recess, the one who cried when you beat him in hide-and-seek because he hid in the most obvious spot.
He hadn’t changed much, really. Sure, he had a little more swagger now, a charm that made people laugh at his terrible jokes instead of groan, but to you, he was just Heeseung.
You’d laugh every time someone brought him up to you, trying to see if you’d spill some secret about what he was like outside of the spotlight. “You’re friends with Heeseung, right?” they’d say, voices dipping into curiosity or jealousy. And you’d shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. Because to you, it wasn’t.
But somehow, knowing him—having that tether to someone like him—had put you on the radar, too. Even if you weren’t part of his crowd, even if you didn’t sit with him at lunch or go to the parties he got dragged to, people noticed you because he noticed you.
And that was the funny thing, wasn’t it? You never cared about being seen, but Heeseung never stopped looking for you in a room.
You were never really interested in initiating anything with him, even if he was very much 100% interested in initiating something with you.
He’d find you in the hallways, leaning casually against the wall, as if it was second nature for him to cage you in, corner you with a smile that made everything around you feel like it had slowed down. He’d ask you about your day, always interested in the little details you never thought anyone would care about. “Are you busy some day?” he’d ask, eyes sparkling, as if he was hinting at something more—something he probably expected you to say yes to.
Other times, he’d slide into the seat next to you in class, talking about his upcoming game like it was an invitation in itself. “You should come watch,” he'd say with that grin, the one that could melt anyone into agreeing. "I’ll even give you my jersey after I win.”
And then there were the parties—he’d invite you to those too, always the center of attention but always making sure you knew you were welcome. Sometimes he’d just come right up to you, all charm and boldness, flirting with you shamelessly, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His presence was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but get those butterflies in your stomach, no matter how much you wanted to stay calm.
And yet, despite all of it—the smiles, the promises, the hints of something more—you rejected his advances.
Every. Single. One.
You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in it. You wouldn’t. Even if every part of you, every part of your mind and heart, screamed to take a chance, to let yourself fall into whatever Heeseung was offering, you pushed him away.
Mostly because you knew what type of person he was now. You saw how he was with other women in school, how effortlessly he had them wrapped around his finger, how they would come to him at the snap of his finger, eyes wide and eager for whatever he had to offer. They were drawn to him like moths to a flame, following him like he was the sun and they were planets orbiting around him. And, honestly, it was hard not to see the way his charm worked, how his attention seemed to shift from one girl to the next as if it was all just a game.
A game that you weren’t interested in playing.
You weren’t just going to be another face in the crowd, another person who would fall for his flirtations, get swept up in the thrill of his attention only to be tossed aside when someone else caught his eye. You were different. You had to be.
Heeseung was the type who could have anyone, but you weren’t just anyone. You were stronger than that, smarter than that. You didn’t need to be one of his many admirers to feel valued.
So, you kept saying no, keeping a distance, watching the way he’d grin like it was no big deal, then go off to let his attention drift somewhere else. And deep down, you knew you weren’t immune to it. Maybe you never would be. But the answer stayed the same.
That didn’t mean Heeseung didn’t stop going after you.
If anything, it seemed like the more you pulled away, the harder he tried. You'd find him lingering around your classes, catching you in the hallways, or showing up in places where you didn’t expect him to be. It was like a game to him, though you weren't sure if he knew it was to you. Maybe he thought he could win you over if he tried hard enough, if he kept being persistent, kept flashing that grin and throwing out just enough charm to keep you on the edge of saying yes.
He’d joke with you, pretending to be playful, leaning in with a wink like you were both in on some shared secret no one else understood. But you knew better. You could see through the act, see the way his eyes would light up when he thought he was getting close. It was almost like a challenge to him now, something he couldn’t let go of.
But you kept saying no.
And he kept coming back for more.
You would think that someone like him would give up after rejection, after rejection. But nooooo.
If anything, Heeseung only seemed more determined with each "no" you threw at him. You’d catch him looking at you with amusement, as if he were trying to figure you out, like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, plotting his next move. It wasn’t just persistence—it was obsession in its own strange way.
He’d show up at your locker with an extra wide grin, as if all the past rejections were just another small obstacle, one he was determined to overcome. He’d ask about your plans for the weekend, your favorite movie, your favorite ice cream flavor—all these little things that seemed innocent enough but were clearly his way of getting closer to you, of worming his way in until you couldn’t say no anymore. And each time, you’d refuse, hold firm.
It was like a tug-of-war, except you were the one refusing to be pulled.
And yet, he never stopped to one point that there was a part of you that wondered, almost begrudgingly, if anyone had ever resisted him like this before. You could almost hear the chuckles of his friends in the background, no doubt betting on how long it would take before you gave in.
It did kind of surprise you when, one day, you were walking down the hallway, busy trying to find your gum in your bag, when you accidentally overheard a girl confessing to Heeseung. You stopped, pausing mid-step as you heard her voice, trembling with nerves, pouring out her feelings to him.
You looked down the hallway you were passing, and there he was, standing with his back to you, his attention fully on the girl in front of him. She was shy, her words stumbling over each other, her face flushed as she nervously admitted what everyone probably already knew. She liked him. She wanted him.
But what he did next was something you did not expect at all.
He rejected her.
The words hit you before you could even process them. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But there’s someone else I’m interested in. Someone I want." He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even seem to waver. He was polite, but his words were clear and final.
The girl stood frozen for a moment, looking down, clearly embarrassed. You could see the brief flicker of pain on her face, but she nodded and walked away quickly, her head down.
You felt an unexpected sting in your chest, a strange mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You couldn’t decide if it was relief or disappointment or... something else.
And as Heeseung turned around, casually adjusting his jacket, you quickly stepped into a side hallway, out of sight, your heart beating a little too fast for comfort. You had never expected to see something like that, especially not from him. Never from him. And it made you wonder, question everything you thought you knew about him.
Because after that moment, it seemed like he rejected girl after girl, all while still pursuing you with that same relentless determination. It was strange. You would never catch him kissing other women anymore, never saw pictures on social media of him with a girl on his lap at parties, never heard whispers of him flirting with anyone else. It was like the world around him had faded, and the only focus, the only person who mattered, was you.
No one else but you.
It made you question everything. Was he really serious about you? Or was this just some strange game he was playing, a challenge to see if he could win you over when everyone else had fallen for his charm? Or was it something more than the surface-level attention he gave everyone else? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized you were the only one he seemed to want.
But the more you thought about it, the more it made you uneasy. Did you trust him? Or were you walking into a trap?
If it was a trap, it was a pretty good one, because something changed between the dynamic of you and Heeseung. You grew more compliant, more willing to give him a little piece of your attention, a little more of your time. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him shift gears. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so certain, now seemed a little more desperate, a little more eager to make you notice him, to make you smile.
He’d go out of his way to do the smallest things just to get a reaction from you—whether it was showing up with your favorite drink, offering to carry your bag when you were weighed down with books, or trying to impress you with his random trivia knowledge that he knew you secretly found endearing. His usual cool composure was slipping, and in its place was a version of him you hadn’t seen since you were young.
And frankly, it was kinda cute.
It was like he was a little boy again, trying so hard to win your approval, doing whatever he could to get you to look his way, to see him the way he wanted you to.
You expected to play a little around with his attention, to enjoy the way he’d chase you, all while ignoring the stares you got from other girls. It wasn’t anything serious, just a game, a harmless little back-and-forth that didn’t have to mean anything. You didn’t expect it to go anywhere—after all, this was Heeseung, the golden boy who had his pick of anyone. He was just... fun to be around, right?
But how were you supposed to know that one measly party—just one event—would change everything?
It wasn’t even a big deal at first. Just a typical Friday night, with music blasting, lights flashing, and everyone packed together in some house that barely fit the crowd. You had told yourself you’d just go for a bit, maybe chat with some friends, and leave before things got too chaotic.
When you arrived, you decided to go get a drink first, something to ease your nerves. You weren’t exactly the type to jump into a party scene, so you figured a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt. You made your way to the kitchen, and scanned the counter for something that would do the trick. You found a bottle of something strong, poured yourself a generous amount, and started nursing it as you made your way through the house, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd.
The music was louder now, almost deafening, and the air smelled like a mix of cheap cologne, sweat, and the faint scent of pizza. The people around you were lost in their own little worlds—laughing, dancing, talking—but you were searching for someone you knew.
Your search didn’t take long before you spotted a group of people you knew—friends from class, a few people you’d hung out with before. You made your way toward them, grateful for the distraction, and they welcomed you with smiles and waves. You could feel the tension in your body start to loosen as you joined in, taking a sip from your drink and laughing along with their jokes.
You stayed with them for a while, catching up on small talk, sipping your drink more leisurely. The conversation shifted from one topic to another—school, upcoming plans, random gossip about who was dating who—until eventually, the music started pulling everyone onto the dance floor. You found yourself swept along with the crowd, the beat of the song pounding through the floor and vibrating up your spine as you moved with the rhythm, the alcohol in your system giving you a little extra confidence.
It was fun, for a while. You lost yourself in the music, and you could feel the tension slip away with each step you took, each beat you moved to, until everything felt… easy.
Then, suddenly, you felt strong arms around your waist, pulling you close, a warmth pressing against your back. It took a split second for the reality to sink in, but you already knew who it was based on the familiar scent of cologne that filled your senses. You didn’t have to look to be sure, but you turned your head anyway, and as expected, there he was.
Heeseung.
He was right behind you, holding you effortlessly, his grip strong yet gentle as he matched the rhythm of the music with you. His chest pressed against your back, making your breath catch for a moment.
You could feel his chin rest lightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and despite every part of you telling yourself to pull away, to keep the distance you’d worked so hard to maintain, something inside you didn’t want to.
For a brief moment, you forgot to question it all. You forgot the reasons you kept pushing him away, the doubts you had about what he truly wanted.
And when he leaned close, his voice low and steady, you felt your resolve begin to crumble as his lips just brushed your ear. "You look so good," he murmured, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Dancing like that, looking so tempting."
The words were playful, but there was something in the tone that made it clear he wasn’t just joking. You could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck.
For a moment, you felt dizzy—not just from the alcohol, but from his proximity, the way he had you caught in his orbit, unwilling to let go.
"You’re driving me crazy," he whispered, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly as if to remind you of how close he was. The teasing had a bite now and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was testing you, seeing how far he could push.
And God did he push.
Heeseung’s fingers brushed lightly against your waist, sending a ripple of heat through you. "You know," he said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper, "you’re not making it easy for me to behave tonight."
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his every move, every word. But it was useless—he was too close, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t think straight.
When you finally found your voice, it came out quieter than you intended. "Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink, Heeseung," you said, hoping to inject some distance, even though your own voice betrayed how unsteady you felt.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. "Maybe," he admitted, and you could hear the smirk in his tone. "But don’t act like you’re not enjoying this."
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was locked on you, dark and intense.
"I’m not—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"You’re not what?" he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, daring you to finish your sentence.
You hated how your body betrayed you, how your heart raced, how you couldn’t seem to pull away, even though every logical part of your brain screamed at you to step back. But the warmth of his arms and the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room—it was all too much.
For once, you let yourself linger, not pulling away from his hold, not giving him the usual pushback. He noticed immediately, his smirk growing as if he had won some unspoken game between you two.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing but soft. His fingers traced small circles against your hip, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I’m just too tired to deal with your nonsense.”
“Oh, nonsense, huh?” he said with a mock-wounded expression, leaning closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your skin. “Careful, or you might hurt my feelings.”
“I think you’ll survive,” you shot back, tilting your head to glance at him. But the way his gaze locked onto yours made your breath hitch.
He laughed, the sound low and warm, as he kept still. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, the words brushing against your ear. “Admit it.”
You didn’t respond right away, instead letting the music carry you both. There was something about this that felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t pushing too hard, wasn’t making this feel like a game. Or maybe it was just the way you let yourself relax for once, let yourself enjoy his attention without overthinking it.
“And if I am?” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended, but steady enough to hold his gaze.
Heeseung’s grin widened, his confidence shining through. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep doing whatever I’m doing,” he said, his voice full of promise.
You scoffed lightly, shaking your head, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t act so tough,” he teased, “I know I’m getting to you.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping back just enough to put some space between you, but Heeseung wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He followed, closing the gap again, his movements unhurried. “Running away already?” he said, his tone mockingly hurt.
“I’m not running,” you shot back, crossing your arms in front of you, though the small smile threatening to form on your lips betrayed you.
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not convinced. He reached out, gently tugging at one of your hands, his pouty expression exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, baby. I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
You let out a laugh despite yourself, shaking your head again. “I’m not your baby , you know that right?”
“But here you are,” he replied smoothly, the grin returning to his lips. “Still talking to me, still letting me hold you like I belong to you. Makes me think you don’t hate this as much as you pretend.”
You wanted to argue, to push him away again, but before you could, Heeseung pulled you closer once more. “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly, “if you really want me to stop, I will.”
The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t say it either. And he noticed.
Instead of gloating, though, his grin softened into an almost shy smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his hand squeezing yours gently before letting it go, as if to remind you that you were the one in control, even if it didn’t feel like it right now.
“Don’t think this means I’m giving in,” you said, trying to regain some ground, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to sound convincing.
“Sure, sure,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But I’ll take it as a win anyway.”
You rolled your eyes at him, a playful smirk curling on your lips. Leaning in just enough so only he could hear, you whispered, your voice teasing, “Maybe you should work a little harder if you want to win me over pretty boy.”
Before he could respond, you pulled back and walked off toward the kitchen, swaying your hips just enough to make a point and you felt a surge of satisfaction when you glanced over your shoulder.
Heeseung stood frozen in place, his expression both shocked and in disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide as he processed your words and the sudden shift. For once, it seemed like you had left him speechless—a rarity that made your grin widen.
You turned back around, hiding your amusement as you reached the kitchen and poured yourself another drink.
A few seconds passed, and you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his gaze burning into your back. Heeseung wasn’t one to give up easily, and you knew you’d just ignited a fire in him. It wasn’t a question of if he’d come after you, but when.
You took a sip of your drink, savoring the moment, and braced yourself for whatever Heeseung was planning. You barely had any time to react before you felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His body pressed against your back, his warmth seeping through your clothes as his arms caged you in on either side of the counter. His hands gripped the edge, locking you in place.
A low, frustrated groan escaped his lips, brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re really going to do me like that?” he murmured, his voice laced with mock pain.
You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. “Do you like what?” you asked innocently, swirling your drink in your hand as if you weren’t trapped.
Heeseung chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your stomach flip. “Walking away like that,” he said, leaning in closer until his lips almost brushed the curve of your jaw. “Whispering things you know are going to drive me crazy, and then just leaving me standing there like an idiot.”
You giggled as you leaned back slightly, your head resting against his shoulder. “You looked cute like that,” you teased, your tone dripping with playful defiance. “Maybe I should do it more often.”
“Cute?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave as his grip on the counter tightened. “I’ll show you cute.”
Before you could respond, Heeseung’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his tone softer now, though still playful. “But it’s fine. I like trouble.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, your shoulders shaking slightly as you set your drink down on the counter. “You’re so dramatic, Heeseung,” you said, turning your head just enough to meet his gaze.
Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, the grin on his face softening into something more tempting. “Dramatic, huh?” he murmured, “maybe. But you can’t tell me you don’t like it.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. “I think you like the attention,” he continued, his tone smug as his lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “You wouldn’t keep me guessing if you didn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure despite the rapid thudding of your heart. “Guessing? Please,” you scoffed, tilting your chin up slightly, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who keeps showing up, Heeseung. Not me.”
“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you haven’t walked away yet. If you really weren’t interested, you wouldn’t still be here. With me.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I’m just enjoying watching you make a fool of yourself.”
“Is that right?” he said, his voice dipping, playful but challenging. He leaned in even closer, so close that his lips were barely a breath away from yours. “Careful, baby, or you might end up falling for me instead.”
His confidence was maddening, but it was that same confidence that made your pulse race.
You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Falling for you?” you repeated, your voice steady even as your heart betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself, Heeseung.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as his hand left the counter to lightly graze your hip, his fingers lingering just enough to make you aware of every single nerve in your body. “Oh, I’m not flattering myself,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. “I’m just calling it how I see it.”
You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’ve got some nerve,” you said, shaking your head as you turned away from him.
His eyes following your every move as you picked up your drink again. “And you’ve got some walls,” he shot back.
You paused, glancing back at him as you took a sip of your drink. “Maybe they’re there for a reason,” you replied, your tone light but pointed.
Heeseung leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. “Yeah, but the thing about walls?” he said, tilting his head with a grin. “They’re meant to be climbed.”
You side-eyed him, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you raised your glass to take another sip. “Try all you want mountain climber.”
Before he could come up with a response, you smoothly stepped away, moving around the kitchen counter to put some distance between you. His brows furrowed slightly in surprise, the sudden shift catching him off guard.
“Hey, wait a second,” he called after you, quickly sliding around the counter in an attempt to follow. The way he moved—quick but a little clumsy, as if he hadn’t expected you to slip away so easily—made you chuckle to yourself.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” you said over your shoulder, your tone full of challenge as you leaned casually against the far end of the counter, nursing your drink.
Heeseung stopped on the other side, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he tilted his head. “Oh, so now we’re playing games?” he asked, clearly in disbelief.
“You started it,” you shot back, taking another sip and meeting his gaze head-on.
His eyes narrowed slightly as if accepting the challenge. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t be mad when I win.”
“Win?” you repeated, raising a brow at him. “Pretty confident for someone who just got left behind.”
That earned a laugh from him, and in one swift motion, he stepped around the counter, closing the gap between you. “Left behind?” he echoed, his tone playful as he leaned down slightly, his face closer to yours. “Nah. I’m right where I need to be.”
Your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you quickly masked it with another sip of your drink, refusing to let him see how much his persistence was getting to you.
Heeseung’s smirk widened when you began moving around the counter again, and without missing a beat, he mirrored your steps, chasing after you. “Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?” he teased, his tone light as his eyes tracked your every move.
“You’ll have to be faster than that,” you shot back, a playful laugh escaping your lips as you darted around the other side.
His hands hovered over the counter, ready to cut you off, but you were quicker, slipping just out of reach. The look of mock frustration on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t help but grin at your small victory.
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up for a moment as if calling a truce. But you weren’t buying it—not for a second.
When he lunged, you were ready, spinning on your heel and darting out of the kitchen entirely. “Nice try!” you called over your shoulder, weaving your way back toward the dance floor, the thumping bass and flashing lights swallowing you up.
You could hear him groan behind you, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “You’re really gonna make me work for this, huh?”
You didn’t answer, slipping into the crowd and letting the press of people conceal you. It was easy to lose him in the chaos, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of him standing near the edge of the dance floor, scanning the crowd with a furrowed brow.
For a moment, you just watched him. The way he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to spot you, made your chest tighten unexpectedly. But you shook the feeling off quickly, turning back to the music and letting yourself have fun.
The crowd seemed to shift and swirl, pulling you deeper into the dance floor. For a moment, you felt untouchable—lost in the freedom of the moment.
But that feeling didn’t last long. You could still feel him, even if you couldn’t see him. And then, just when you thought you’d successfully slipped away, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and right near your ear.
“Thought you could run away from me?”
You turned your head sharply, only to find Heeseung standing there, a sly grin on his face. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks, probably from weaving through the crowd to find you.
“How’d you—” you started, but he interrupted with a chuckle.
“You really think I’d give up that easily?” he asked, his tone almost incredulous. “I told you, I’m right where I need to be.”
You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your lips tugged upward. “Maybe you’re just a little too determined,” you said, stepping back slightly, but he followed your movement effortlessly.
“Or maybe you like being chased,” he countered, his voice smooth as he matched your pace.
You opened your mouth to retort, but he caught your hand, gently spinning you back toward him, his movements seamless with the music. It was so smooth, so unexpected, that you didn’t even think to pull away. “Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low as his eyes locked onto yours.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “I let you catch me,” you replied.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he answered as he pulled you a little closer.
The space between you vanished, and for a moment, you were acutely aware of everything—his hand on your waist, his body, his gaze. It was dizzying, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stayed there, caught in the moment, wondering how on earth he always managed to get under your skin like this.
Heeseung began to sway with you to the music, his hands resting lightly on your waist, guiding your movements with an ease that felt far too natural. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just dancing, just a moment. And yet, you didn’t stop him. You let him lead, let him pull you closer, until his forehead was nearly brushing yours.
But then you noticed something. The way his steps were deliberate, not just moving to the beat but steering you. Slowly, subtly, his touch guided you backward through the crowd.
Your brow furrowed as realization dawned. Heeseung wasn’t just dancing. He had a plan.
“You’re sneaky, you know that?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and saw the wall creeping closer.
Heeseung’s grin turned wicked, a spark of mischief lighting up his face. “Sneaky? Me?” he asked, feigning innocence, though the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist betrayed him. “Yes, you,” you shot back, even as your back brushed against the cool surface of the wall. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Can you blame me? You make it so hard to keep my distance.”
You rolled your eyes, though your pulse betrayed you, hammering in your chest as his gaze locked onto yours.
His gaze never left yours for a second. The world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in just the slightest bit closer, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours, could feel the tension between you, thick and heavy.
He glanced down at your lips, then back up to your eyes, the look in his gaze unreadable. It was almost like he was testing the air between you, measuring whether you’d pull away or lean in. His hands on your waist holding you in place as if he knew you wouldn’t make a move. His breathing had picked up now, shallow and just a little shaky, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was just as affected by this as you were.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, though you knew your voice was too soft to carry any real force. The words felt weak even as they left your lips, because you knew you weren’t really trying to push him away.
He chuckled softly, the sound deep and low, as if savoring the moment. “Like what?” he asked.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t—because the answer was already in the way your heart was pounding, the way your breath hitched every time he got a little closer.
And then, without warning, he leaned in just a fraction more, his lips hovering so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating from them, but he didn’t make the move. He was waiting. Testing.
You both seemed to be holding your breath.
Just as you were about to say something, the world shifted unexpectedly. A figure stumbled into Heeseung from behind, knocking into him, and before either of you could react, the person’s drink splashed all over you. You gasped as the cold liquid drenched your outfit, your heart sinking as you saw the mess, the dark stain had spread across the fabric, leaving a damp, sticky trail. “Are you kidding me?” you groaned, trying to wipe it off, but it only made it worse.
Heeseung, who had been caught off guard by the collision, quickly turned around. His brows furrowed with frustration, but his gaze softened when he saw the mess on your clothes. Without missing a beat, he pushed the person who had bumped into him away with a quick but firm shove. “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped. The drunk person mumbled an apology, clearly embarrassed, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. His attention was on you now.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing against your arm as he looked you over.
You just sighed, wiping your shirt, but it was clear you weren’t getting anywhere. “This is great,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else, “I didn’t even want to be here tonight, and now this…”
Heeseung didn’t let you dwell on it for long. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand in a way that was surprisingly gentle for all the tension you’d felt earlier. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”
You didn’t argue, allowing him to guide you through the crowd, his hand on yours was warm, and even though you were frustrated, there was something comforting in the way he took charge.
When you reached the bathroom, he opened the door for you, ushering you inside with a soft “After you,” before making sure the door was securely closed behind you. The bathroom was quieter, and the air felt colder, but it was a welcome change from the chaos outside.
“Sit down, I’ll grab you some paper towels,” he said, motioning to the counter as he quickly moved toward the sink.
You sat down on the edge, trying to assess the damage, but the sticky feeling of the drink on your skin made it hard to focus. Heeseung was quick, his movements efficient as he grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the faucet.
“You’re really going to make me clean up after you now?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though there was still a hint of irritation in your voice.
Heeseung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you the damp towels. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trying to help.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the gentle way he was treating the situation. You took the damp towels from his hands, still a little flustered by how close he was standing, how his gaze was focused on you with such intent.
“I didn’t ask for help,” you muttered, not in an angry way but more out of habit, the natural instinct to push away when things got too close, too personal.
He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I know. But that’s never stopped me before, has it?”
You opened your mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. You couldn’t find the right response. Instead, you just looked at him, your heart doing that erratic thing it always did when he was this close.
Heeseung seemed to notice your hesitation, his smile softening. “You don’t have to push me away every time, you know,” he said gently, his voice almost too sincere.
You blinked, caught off guard. But before you could respond, he stepped back, giving you space, though his eyes never left yours. “I’ll wait outside,” he said quietly, his voice shifting back to its usual tone.“Take your time.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.
Heeseung gave you one last lingering look before stepping out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. As soon as he was gone, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still racing in your chest. You quickly went to work cleaning yourself up, though the mess on your clothes was much harder to fix.
Your thoughts were spinning. There was something about the way Heeseung was acting tonight, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was definitely something there, and it made your stomach twist in ways.
You ran a hand through your hair, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have this effect on you? You couldn’t figure it out, but the longer you stood there in the bathroom, the more confused you felt.
After a few more minutes, you gave up trying to fix the mess entirely. It was too late for that. Instead, you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as you entered the hallway, you spotted Heeseung standing by the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes immediately locking onto yours. “Well?” he asked, cocking his head slightly as he gave you a once-over. “Better?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, much better,” you replied, trying to act nonchalant, but you could feel your heartbeat quicken again under his scrutiny.
He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good. You look… good.” There was a hesitation before the words left his mouth, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase them.
You caught it, and for the first time tonight, you didn’t immediately push back. Instead, you simply looked at him, unsure of what was happening.
Wait.
You suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over you. The way he looked at you, the way he was standing there waiting for you, felt familiar, like it was something you had experienced before.
Your mind wandered back to a memory from when you were younger, one that you hadn’t thought about in ages. You were just a child, maybe eight or nine, playing in the park with Heeseung not too far away. You’d been running around, laughing with the other kids when some clumsy little boy—one of your classmates—spilled his drink all over you. You’d been so upset, the sticky liquid ruining your favorite shirt, and you could feel tears threatening to spill.
But then, out of nowhere, there was Heeseung. He hadn’t hesitated for a second, not like some of the other kids who were too busy laughing or ignoring you. He’d been sitting nearby, playing with a figurine in the grass, but the moment he saw you, he dropped his toys without a second thought. Without saying a word, he had stood up, walked over to you, and gently grabbed your hand.
“Don’t worry,” he’d said with that soft, comforting tone only he had, “I’ll help you clean up.”
He had led you straight to the bathroom of the park’s little concession stand, where he carefully grabbed paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, his face set in a look of determination. You remembered feeling embarrassed, but somehow his presence made everything feel better.
And now, here you were, years later, with him standing in front of you again, doing the same thing—helping you, without hesitation. It made you smile softly to yourself, the memory tugging at your heart in ways you weren’t sure how to explain.
Heeseung, noticing the smile tugging at your lips, raised an eyebrow in playful curiosity. “What’s on your mind?”
You shook your head, trying to hide the faint blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Just… thinking about something,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.
He didn’t push, simply giving you a small smile, as though he understood without needing any further explanation.
Before you could think too much about it, Heeseung suddenly moved with a surprising confidence, his hand finding your waist and gently pulling you along with him. The sudden shift startled you for a moment, but the warmth of his hand against your side made your breath hitch slightly.
“You look like you need another drink,” he said, his voice low, but playful, as he guided you through the crowded hallway and toward the kitchen. He left you no time to protest, and you found yourself following him without much resistance. You’d barely processed the familiar feeling of his touch when you were already in the kitchen, the sound of music and chatter fading slightly as you both entered the quieter space. Heeseung let go of your waist once you were in the kitchen, but he still stood close.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to the counter, rifling through the bottles of alcohol, though his gaze never fully left you.
"Something strong this time?" he asked, his tone teasing but with a hint of genuine care, as though he wanted to make sure you were really okay. "Or do you want to take it easy?"
You were still caught off guard by the way he had pulled you along, the way he’d moved without hesitation, without waiting for permission.
"Maybe just something light," you replied, trying to play it cool, even though he was making it difficult to focus on anything else.
Heeseung worked quickly, his movements smooth as he reached for the bottle, his back was turned to you. But you couldn’t stop watching him—how his muscles shifted under the fabric of his shirt, how good he looked.
Heeseung eventually finished the drink and handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours again as you took the glass. For a second, you both stood there, neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was that kind of silence where it felt like something was about to happen, but neither of you were sure what.
“So, what now?” you asked, trying to break the silence, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you spoke.
Heeseung took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now," he said, "we get back to enjoying the night."
You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was. "Right," you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, but you quickly recovered, giving him a small smile. "Let’s see if I can actually make it through the night without getting drenched in anything else."
Heeseung’s lips curled into a grin, and he chuckled softly. "I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again," he said, his tone playful but with an undertone of sincerity. He reached out and gently took your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.
You let him lead you back into the party, the music louder now, the crowd thicker. Heeseung didn’t let go of your hand, and you found yourself walking alongside him through the house, feeling uncertain.
✰ ✰ ✰
Somewhere during the night, you had lost sight of Heeseung. He had been dragged away by his friends, caught up in the crowd, and never returned after that. At first, it felt like a strange absence, the lingering sense of him still there even if he wasn't. But after a while, you pushed it aside, deciding it was fine.
You found yourself moving through the party, chatting with friends, laughing at jokes, and enjoying yourself. And as the night went on, you slipped into the comfort of familiar faces, people you could talk to normally. You were glad for the chance to just have fun, to forget for a moment the heat that always seemed to follow whenever Heeseung was around. You were fine without him, right?
You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The noise and chaos inside had started to make you feel lightheaded, and the stuffy heat of the house wasn’t helping. A little solitude would do you good, you thought.
The cool air hit your skin as you stepped out into the backyard, a quiet escape from the party. You leaned against the outer wall, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, and for a moment, you let the silence settle around you. It was peaceful, the kind of calm you needed after the madness inside. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the chill of the night on your skin, and took a deep breath.
What you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the shadows, standing just far enough away not to be seen. The shape of a figure, leaning against the corner of the house, observing you with quiet intensity.
The moment stretched on, the backyard still and quiet, until you felt a presence shift behind you. A movement you couldn’t quite place, and before you could turn around to see who it was, you felt the brush of someone’s body so close to yours that it made you freeze.
You slowly turned your head, your breath catching in your throat, and found yourself face to face with Heeseung. His lips were mere inches from your ear as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. But something was off.
His usually sharp gaze was a little hazy, his eyes unfocused as he smiled at you—though it didn’t reach the intensity of his usual teasing grin. He looked almost… detached. Out of it.
And then the smell hit you—a sharp, pungent scent of weed mixed with the alcohol. It hit you like a wave, and you realized just how much he'd been indulging tonight.
"Heeseung?" you murmured, taking a step back instinctively, your heart picking up speed as you watched him sway slightly, his breath coming out slower than usual.
He seemed to snap out of his daze for a moment, his eyes clearing slightly as he blinked at you. "Hmm?" His voice was low, almost lazy, and there was a softness to it that you weren’t used to hearing.
You studied him for a moment, his breath still tinged with the unmistakable haze of the night’s indulgence. He wasn't himself—at least not the playful Heeseung you knew. "Are you okay?" you asked cautiously, unsure how to navigate this new version of him standing so close.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment before a slow, almost dreamy smile curled up on his lips. "Yeah, just needed a break too. The noise gets... loud. You know how it is."
He swayed again, his hand coming up to rest on the wall near you, his face inches from yours.
You stood still, your heart racing as you took in the unexpected sight of him like this. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Maybe you should head back inside.”
He chuckled softly, but it lacked its usual spark. Instead, it was drawn out and almost tired. “Nah,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m fine... just needed a minute.” His fingers brushed your arm lightly as if trying to keep himself steady.
He didn’t back away, though, and neither did you.
You were unsure what to say next, unsure of your next move. "You’re making this... hard," you finally whispered, uncertain whether you were talking about the situation or him.
Heeseung smiled, but this time it was slow, almost seductive, like he was savoring the moment. “Maybe I like it that way,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. He leaned just a little closer, his breath mingling with yours.
Despite everything, despite all the confusion, you couldn’t stop the way your heart pounded. Heeseung had always been a game you couldn’t quite figure out, but right now, you were starting to wonder if maybe it was a game you didn’t want to win.
As he leaned in further, you had to make a decision: pull away, or let yourself fall into whatever it was that had been brewing between the two of you.
Before you could even make a decision, he made the decision for you. His lips parted, and he murmured a low, breathy compliment against your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You look so beautiful baby,” he said, and there was a sincerity in his tone that cut through the haze. But before you could respond, his hand shot up to grip the side of your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin, holding you in place. The other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. Hungry. His lips crashing against yours as if you were the air he needed to breathe, like this moment was the only thing that mattered.
You gasped into the kiss, caught off guard by the intensity of it. Heeseung’s mouth was possessive, eager, like he couldn’t get enough of you. He kissed you with a desperation that sent a rush of heat straight to your body, his hands pulling you closer, the pressure of his grip firm. It felt like everything had exploded in that moment, every feeling you’d been pushing away suddenly pouring out in a single, stolen kiss.
Your heart hammered in your chest, and even though every part of you knew this wasn’t how you expected things to go, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. The way he kissed you—like you were the last thing he’d ever touch—was overwhelming, and for the first time, you let yourself surrender to it.
His lips were intoxicating, and as he pulled you closer, you could feel the intensity in every movement, every press of his body against yours. The kiss deepened, more frantic now, as if neither of you could get enough. The feeling of him—so desperate, so needy—was something you never expected from Heeseung, and yet it was exactly what you found yourself craving.
You tried to stay grounded, to remind yourself of who he was, of all the walls you’d carefully built between you, but with each second, they seemed to crumble. His hands moved to your back, pulling you in as his kiss grew more fevered, his breathing erratic as he let out soft groans against your lips.
You couldn’t help but respond, your own hands rising to clutch at his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as if to keep him anchored to you, like the very act of touching him would stop this moment from slipping away. Heeseung’s body was solid against yours, and despite the confusion that still buzzed in the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted this—wanted him.
His breath hitched as you pulled him even closer, you could feel the way his body seemed to tremble slightly as he held you in his arms, groaning lowly, the sound vibrating against your lips as he used one arm to brace himself against the wall, the other pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. His lips were desperate, claiming, his breathing heavy as it mixed with yours.
Your hands moved without thought, one gripping the back of his shirt, the other winding into his hair, tugging him even closer. He let out another low groan, the sound so needy it sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung’s hand at your waist tightened, as if he was trying to merge your bodies into one.
Every part of you seemed to melt under his touch, all that mattered in that moment was the way he felt against you, the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands seemed to be exploring every inch of your body. His lips moved with desperation, and each breathless kiss made it harder to remember why you had held back for so long.
But then, just as the kiss deepened again, your mind caught up with you. You could feel the weight of it—the gravity of what was happening. The familiar warning signs, the confusion, the uncertainty, all came rushing back to the surface.
You hesitated for a moment, your hands gripping his hair tightly, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Heeseung, sensing the shift, finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting softly.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice raspy and gentle, as if checking to see if you were still with him in that moment.
You pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to gather your thoughts, but your mind was still clouded by the rush of the moment. "We... we shouldn't be doing this," you murmured, your voice shaky, feeling the weight of the situation. "You're drunk, Heeseung. This isn't you."
Heeseung blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy with that lazy, almost dazed look as he played with the strands of your hair, his fingers brushing gently against your scalp. He tilted his head slightly, giving you that smile—the one that always made your heart flutter, even in the most confusing of times.
He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and he spoke softly, his voice sincere "Even if I wasn't drunk," he said, his lips curling into a slow smile, "I’d still do this." His eyes locked onto yours, the haze in them making his gaze feel even more intense. "Because you're you. A pretty girl I've wanted for years."
You felt your breath catch in your throat, the heat of his words curling around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. His hand on your hair moved down to gently cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "This... this is unforgettable. And I’d do it over and over again, no matter what state I’m in."
You were speechless for a moment, but you knew he was being honest, even if his current state made it hard to fully trust his intentions.
"But...," you started, still unsure, trying to hold onto your reason, "this isn't the right time, Heeseung. We both know that."
Heeseung’s lazy smile didn’t falter, though there was a longing in his eyes somthing you hadn't seen before. He slowly moved his thumb down, brushing lightly over your lips before leaning in again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe not the right time," he said, his lips nearly brushing against yours once more. "But you’ve always been worth the wait."
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his hand still cradling your face as if silently asking for permission. Then, he leaned in, placing a soft, tentative peck on your lips. It was gentle and when you didn’t pull away, he did it again, this time lingering a little longer. Each kiss felt like a question, and with every unspoken answer, his confidence grew.
The next kiss wasn’t as restrained. It was deeper, needier, as though the small taste he’d gotten wasn’t enough. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, quickly unraveling into something messier. His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, while his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.
The kisses turned sloppy, his control slipping with every passing second. His breath came heavier, mingling with yours as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees feel weak.
You couldn’t help but respond, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung broke away just briefly, as he gasped for air, his lips swollen and glistening. “You don’t know,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with desperation. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Before you could respond, he captured your lips again, his kisses feverish, like he was making up for all the time he’d spent waiting. His body pressed you more firmly against the wall, as he completely lost himself in the moment, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece.
You tried to catch your breath, your head spinning from it all, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance to think. His lips trailed down from yours, brushing along your jaw and down to your neck, where he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent a shiver through your entire body. “Heeseung,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky. You weren’t sure what you were trying to say—stop or don’t stop.
“Say my name again,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and raspy. He placed another kiss just below your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “I love the way it sounds coming from you.”
You didn’t answer because the way he was looking at you left you speechless. His lips were swollen from the kisses, his hair slightly messy, and there was something in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. “Heeseung,” you whispered again, softer this time, your hand reaching up to touch his face. The moment your fingers brushed his cheek, he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. When they opened again, there was a softness there that made your heart ache.
Heeseung’s lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss so deep, so consuming, that it left you breathless. You could feel the way his fingers trembled slightly as they slid up your sides. One hand settled on the small of your back, keeping you firmly pressed against him, while the other moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough.
He groaned low in his throat, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine as his lips parted, inviting you to deepen the kiss. The way his tongue brushed against yours was dizzying, leaving your knees weak and your mind spinning. You responded instinctively, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.
Heeseung’s breathing was heavy, uneven, as if he couldn’t catch his breath but didn’t want to stop. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter. It felt like he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you fit perfectly against him.
Heeseung’s lips suddenly left yours, trailing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, his words slurred slightly but full of emotion. “How long I’ve wanted this… wanted you. God, you’re all I ever think about.” His lips grazed your collarbone, grounding you as he leaned his full weight into you, effectively caging you against the wall.
His rambling continued, each word pouring out like a confession. “I dream about you… about us. It’s always you. No one else even comes close, y’know that? The way you smile, the way you look at me… even when you’re mad at me, I can’t get you out of my head.”
His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your chest as he spoke, his voice husky and raw. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect. And now you’re here, and I don’t want to let go.”
His words were pure need and desperation, and the way he shielded you with his body only amplified the intensity of the moment. “Tell me you feel it too,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me I’m not crazy for wanting you this much.”
You were overwhelmed, caught between his touch and his words. Heeseung wasn’t holding back, and as much as you wanted to respond, the only thing you could manage was a shaky exhale, your hands clutching at his shirt to keep yourself steady.
Your voice wavered as you found the courage to speak, breaking through the haze of emotions swirling around you both. “But what about all the other girls, Heeseung?” you asked, your tone softer than you expected. “All the girls you’ve been with? The ones who’ve followed you around, who’ve—” You hesitated, the words getting caught in your throat.
Heeseung froze for a moment, his lips hovering against the curve of your neck, his breathing uneven. His answer was strained. “No one’s like you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “No one even comes close.”
His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You think any of them matter?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “All those girls… they were never you. Never even close to being you. I don’t care about them. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you.”
His lips found your collarbone again, lingering there as he continued. “I’ve yearned for you—God, for so long. You don’t even know what you do to me.” His hand slid down to your hips, gripping you as if to anchor himself. “Every time I see you, it’s like nothing else exists. No one else exists.”
He pulled back slightly, his dark, half-lidded eyes locking onto yours. “I’ll drop them all—every single one. I don’t need anyone else, never did. I just want you.”
Heeseung, ever the gentleman suddenly took you by the hand and led you back inside, away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. With a gentle yet firm grip, he guided you through the bustling crowd, his eyes never leaving yours, as he led your way towards an unoccupied bedroom. Once inside the bedroom, Heeseung closed the door behind you, locking out the world and creating a private haven for the two of you, as he leaned in and captured your lips in a desperate kiss.
You responded to his kiss with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, while Heeseung's hands roamed freely, caressing your back.
Heeseung only pulled back slightly, his chest heaving with heavy breaths before he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a well-defined torso.
Well this would be a fun night.
It was a fun night... but what ruined it was the fact that Heeseung suddenly seemed to forget who you were. The next few days at school were a complete shift. He avoided you. He didn’t look at you, didn’t talk to you, didn’t even so much as throw a teasing grin your way in the hallways.
No, instead, he went back to his old habits. He laughed and flirted with other girls, his charm as effortless as ever, like nothing had changed. Like you didn’t exist. At. All.
It was maddening.
But the worst part? Watching him smile at those girls with the same ease he once reserved for you, as if you hadn’t been pressed against that wall, that bed, tangled up in his words and his touch. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You didn’t know what happened. You wracked your brain for answers, trying to piece together where it all went wrong. But deep down, you should have known. Of course, you should have known.
Heeseung wasn’t the type to stay tethered. He wasn’t the type to settle. He was the type to chase, to get what he wanted, and then move on. And now that he’d tempted you, now that he’d had a taste of your attention, it seemed he’d gone on to the next woman.
Why would you be any different?
The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You weren’t supposed to care. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let someone like him get to you. But seeing him act as if nothing had happened—as if you were just another moment in his life—stung more than you wanted to admit.
And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night, the way he touched you, the way his words had seemed so genuine. Had it all been a lie? Or had he just changed his mind?
Either way, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered you. If he wanted to act like you didn’t exist, you’d do the same. Or at least, you’d try.
And you did try. You really did. Ignoring Heeseung, pretending he was just another face in the crowd—it seemed like the only way to keep yourself sane. And for a while, it felt like it might work. You told yourself you could move on, that you could forget about the way his touch had felt, the way his voice had sounded when he whispered your name.
Yeah, no. You couldn’t.
Not at all.
You realized that the moment you walked by the bleachers and saw a girl perched comfortably on Heeseung’s lap during basketball practice. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. Your stomach churned.
Nope. Moving on wasn’t happening.
And then in the hallways, you would see him leaning against the wall, his signature grin plastered across his face as he shamelessly flirted with other girls. Their giggles echoed in the corridor, and Heeseung would tilt his head, his eyes sparkling like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Yeah, moving on definitely wasn’t in the cards.
Each time you saw him acting like you were meaningless, like the night you’d shared was nothing more than a passing moment, it cut deeper than you wanted to admit.
And yet, despite all of it, despite the ache in your chest and the frustration bubbling under your skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him. What would you even say? That he’d hurt you? That he’d made you believe you were different, only to prove otherwise?
No. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. But pretending it didn’t matter? That was turning out to be harder than you ever imagined.
Okay, yeah, pretending it didn’t matter was much harder than you thought. Because now, standing in the doorway of your room, staring at a very intoxicated Heeseung, all of those feelings you were desperately trying to bury came rushing back.
His hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a million times. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth skin of his collarbones, and his belt dangled loosely from his hands like he’d been too distracted—or too far gone—to put it back on properly. The faint smell of alcohol and nicotine wafted off him, making you wrinkle your nose.
This was not how you’d planned to spend your night. You were supposed to be studying, maybe finishing the next episode of that series you were hooked on. A calm night. But of course, Heeseung had to ruin that.
“Heeseung,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, trying to keep your voice steady, “What are you doing here?”
He blinked at you, his eyes glassy but still managing to hold that familiar spark that made your heart do stupid flips. “I—uh...” He trailed off, his gaze flickering over you like he was trying to figure out what to say.
You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”
“I know why I’m here,” he slurred, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “I just... I wanted to see you.”
You sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “Heeseung, you’re drunk. And not in your right mind. You should go home before you embarrass yourself even more.”
But instead of leaving, he gave you that boyish grin—the one that always made your resolve waver. “Can’t I stay here? Just for a bit?”
“No,” you replied firmly, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
Heeseung’s expression softened, and his voice dropped, almost pleading. “Come on, don’t do this. I... I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.”
You hated how those words tugged at something deep inside you. Why did he always have to show up and mess with your head?
You found yourself hesitating, your hand still on the door, unable to slam it shut in his face, sighing, your hand gripping the edge of the door as you tried to keep your cool. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung," you said, your voice quieter than you intended. "I have too much going on. I'm stressed, and I really don't have the energy for this."
He didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His voice was low and teasing, with that same lazy confidence he always seemed to have. "If you're stressed, I can help with that," he murmured. "Play with me a little, and I promise, you'll forget all about it."
You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity. “Heeseung—”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, hazy but still focused on you, sparkled with that familiar glint that always left you second-guessing yourself. “I’m really good at relieving stress. Just give me a chance.”
Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. The sheer gall of him left you momentarily speechless.
Finally, you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the moment. "Heeseung, you're drunk. You should just go home and sleep this off before you say something else ridiculous."
He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Drunk or not, I’m still right,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned a fraction closer. “But if you really don’t want me here…” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway, though he made no actual move to leave.
You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to summon every ounce of patience you had left. “Heeseung,” you said firmly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. “I need you to take this seriously. Either go home, or...”
“Or?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing, daring you to finish the sentence.
Your frustration bubbled over as you only glared at him, the sight of his disheveled figure only fueling your anger. "No! Do you have any idea how mad I am at you right now?" you snapped, crossing your arms. "You ignored me for days, Heeseung. Days! You acted like I didn’t exist, like nothing happened, and now you just show up at my door like—like this?"
Heeseung blinked, the lazy smirk faltering slightly, but he didn’t say anything. That only made you angrier. "Do you even know how humiliating it’s been? Watching you flirt with other girls, pretending like what we had meant nothing? And now, you think you can just waltz in here, drunk and out of your mind and what—fix everything with a grin and some smooth words? You don’t get to do that, Heeseung. You don’t get to mess with my head and—"
Before you could finish, Heeseung surged forward, his hands grabbing your cheeks as he pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours with a force that took your breath away, silencing your ramble in an instant.
Your mind went blank, your words evaporating as his warmth enveloped you. His kiss was desperate, almost as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other stayed firm on your cheek.
You froze, your anger momentarily eclipsed by the intensity of his actions. But then, your hands instinctively pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss as you stepped back, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung, what the hell?” you whispered, your voice shaking, unsure if it was from lingering anger or the way your heart raced in your chest.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted quietly, his voice hoarse. “You were yelling at me, and I just… I missed you. I couldn’t stay away.”
You stared at him, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to pull him back in. “You don’t get to do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and think it’ll fix everything.”
“I don’t think it fixes anything,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Before you could respond, he took a small step closer, his forehead gently resting against your shoulder. His breath was warm against your neck as he hummed softly, the sound low and almost comforting. He nuzzled against your skin, his movements slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Heeseung,” you said, your voice strained as you placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. But he didn’t budge, his larger frame pressing closer as his lips ghosted over the curve of your neck.
“I missed this,” he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below your ear, his hand curling gently around your waist to hold you steady.
You tried to push again, but it was weak, half-hearted, especially as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Stop it, Heeseung,” you said, but your voice lacked conviction, and he clearly noticed.
He chuckled softly, the sound deep and a little smug. “You’re telling me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, “but you’re not really trying, are you?”
Your heart raced, torn between the anger still simmering in your chest and the way his touch was making your knees feel like jelly. “Heeseung, this isn’t fair,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softer now. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry. That I’ve been a complete idiot. That I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try.”
His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But before you could sort through your emotions, he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your neck once more, and you felt yourself faltering.
Heeseung’s movements were subtle at first, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as he guided you further into the house. You didn’t even realize he’d kicked the door closed until you heard the faint click of it shutting.
Your distraction gave him the advantage, and before you could voice even the smallest protest, he was steering you toward the couch. His hands were steady, firm, but not forceful, leaving you confused and torn between stopping him and giving in to the pull he had on you.
“Heeseung—” you started, but the words barely escaped your lips before his mouth was on yours again, silencing you with a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving no room for argument, and when you tried to push back against his chest, your resolve faltered as he moaned softly into the kiss. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and to your dismay, a small whine slipped out in response.
His lips curved against yours as if he could sense your weakening resolve, his hands started guiding you to lay down on the couch. The weight of his body hovered close, not trapping you but leaving you with the realization that Heeseung wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, “if you really want me to, I will.” But the way he looked at you, his dark eyes full of yearning and desperation, made it clear he didn’t want you to say the words.
When you didn’t respond, Heeseung’s lips curled into a slow, almost knowing smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips once more.
This kiss was different—softer at first, unhurried but still filled with that undeniable hunger. His weight shifted slightly, his chest pressing against yours while his hand slid from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, as though he wanted to memorize every detail, every sound you made, and every way you responded to him.
You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into him, Heeseung’s lips left yours only briefly, trailing kisses along your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he murmured, “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. “Heeseung… please,” you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled, making it come out weaker than you’d intended.
But he only shook his head softly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “Shh… Don’t.” His voice was low and soothing, almost pleading, as though he couldn’t bear to hear you say anything that might break the moment between you. “Just… stay with me. Don’t push me away right now,” he whispered.
Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, as if he was savoring the moment.
And you couldn’t help but let yourself fall deeper into the kiss.
✰ ✰ ✰
Yeah, you were getting pretty tired now.
After waking up the next morning to an empty bed, Heeseung having dipped sometime before you even stirred, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Disappointed? Sure. Hurt? Maybe. But surprised? Not in the slightest.
The hollow feeling lingered as you dragged yourself to school, telling yourself to just push through the day like nothing had happened. It was easier said than done when the moment you stepped into the halls, you spotted Heeseung leaning casually against his locker, laughing at something one of his friends said, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.
And of course, he acted like last night didn’t happen. Not a glance in your direction, not a nod of acknowledgment—nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist, as if you hadn’t shared anything at all.
You bit down the frustration bubbling in your chest, refusing to let it show. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let him get to you, that you’d play it cool, but damn, it was harder than you thought. Watching him joke around, watching him flirt effortlessly with anyone but you—it stung more than you wanted to admit.
You sighed, gripping the straps of your bag a little tighter as you walked past him, pretending you didn’t notice him either.
It got to the point where your friends couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“What’s going on with you and Heeseung?” one of them asked, their tone laced with curiosity and concern. “He was all over you, and now he’s... not. Did something happen?”
You hesitated, debating whether to say anything, but their expectant gazes made it clear they weren’t letting it go. So, with a deep breath, you told them everything.
Their reactions were immediate.
“He did what?” one of your friends exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Are you serious? He was with you and then went back to ignoring you? Twice?!” another chimed in, her voice rising in anger.
They were shocked at first, then angry—angrier than you were, which was both comforting and a little overwhelming.
“You need to stop answering his calls,” one of them said firmly, leaning closer. “He’s just using you as a backup plan when he’s drunk and lonely.”
Another nodded, her expression equally resolute. “Don’t let him in, no matter how much he begs. If you let him in, you’re just setting yourself up to kick him out later. And trust me, that’s worse.”
“Exactly,” a third added, crossing her arms. “And don’t even think about being his friend. Friends don’t wake up in each other’s beds after nights like that.”
The last comment stung more than you cared to admit, but they weren’t done.
“If you’re under him, you’re never getting over him,” another said bluntly, her words hitting harder than you’d expected. “And you deserve better than this game he’s playing with you.”
You sat there, their words circling in your head like a storm. Deep down, you knew they were right. You knew you couldn’t keep letting Heeseung in only to get hurt every time he left. But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.
One of your friends sighed, shaking her head. “You know what this sounds like, right? A situationship. That’s what this is turning into.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“That’s exactly what it is,” another chimed in, crossing her arms. “He keeps you close enough to make you think you matter, but far enough to avoid any real accountability. Classic situationship behavior.”
You groaned, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t even know if it’s that deep. He probably doesn’t think about me at all.”
“Well…” one of them started, glancing over your shoulder, her expression shifting into amusement and curiosity.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.
She hesitated for a moment before blurting it out. “Heeseung’s staring.”
Your head snapped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. And sure enough, there he was, standing at the edge of the basketball court, holding a ball loosely in one hand. He wasn’t laughing with his teammates or focused on the game. No, his eyes were locked directly on your group—or more specifically, on you.
Your friends followed your gaze, and a chorus of whispers erupted.
“Oh my god, he really is.”
“What is he doing just standing there?”
“Is it just me, or does he look like he’s debating something?”
One of them nudged you. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in his head? Did you say something to him recently? Text him?”
You shook your head quickly, still staring at Heeseung. “No, I haven’t even looked at him, let alone talked to him.”
“Then why is he staring like that?”
“I don’t know!” you said, your voice low but frantic.
Another friend tilted her head, watching him closely. “It’s not just a glance, either. He’s full-on staring. Like he’s trying to figure out if he should come over here or something.”
The thought made your stomach flip, cause there was something more intense in the way he looked at you—like he was fighting some internal battle.
“Well, whatever’s going on,” one of your friends whispered, “he’s definitely not over you.”
You turned back to your friends, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “You guys are making this into something it’s not.”
One of them snorted. “Honey, he’s the one making it into something. Look at him.”
Against your better judgment, you glanced back at Heeseung, and your breath hitched when your eyes met his again. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze only grew more focused, like he wanted to make sure you knew he was looking.
You quickly turned back to your friends, forcing a tight smile. “Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t argue. One of them muttered, “Good idea,” as the group began gathering their things.
As you walked away from the bench, you resisted the urge to glance back at Heeseung. Your friends stayed close, their chatter filling the air as they tried to distract you, but it was hard to shake the feeling of his eyes still on you.
When you reached the school gates, one of them broke the silence. “So… are we just going to ignore the fact that he was practically burning a hole in your back with that stare?”
“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice sharper than you intended. “We’re ignoring it.”
Another friend chuckled softly. “Okay, okay. But just so you know, he’s not ignoring you.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “Well, he’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise most of the time.”
“That’s the thing,” someone said thoughtfully. “Guys like him—they act like they don’t care, but the moment they think they’re losing you? They start doing stuff like this.”
You didn’t reply, tightening your grip on your bag as the group walked down the street. You didn’t want to talk about Heeseung anymore, didn’t want to think about the way he looked at you.
✰ ✰ ✰
It was a vicious cycle, one you hated but couldn’t seem to break. Each time you told yourself it would be the last, that you’d stop answering the door, that you wouldn’t let him in again. And yet, every time the night fell and he showed up—messy hair, glassy eyes, and a crooked smile—you found yourself giving in, letting him cross the threshold into your apartment.
Heeseung had this way of making you feel like you were the center of his world. His hands were always warm, his voice low and sweet, whispering things that made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t describe.
“Why do you do this to me?” you’d asked one night, your voice breaking as you stared up at him, your fingers tangled in his hair.
He’d only smiled, brushing his thumb against your cheek as if he didn’t have an answer, or maybe because he didn’t want to give you one. “Because I can’t stay away from you,” he’d said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.
But then morning would come, and he would vanish like a dream you couldn’t quite remember, leaving behind an empty space in your bed and a heavier one in your chest. And at school, it was always the same. His eyes would find you across the cafeteria or the hallway, and for a moment, it would feel like everything stopped. But he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t talk to you. He’d just look.
Your friends noticed it, too, how he’d stare at you as if you were the only thing in the room, even when there were other girls around him, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention.
“You’re letting him ruin you,” one of them said one afternoon, her voice tinged with frustration.
“I know,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “But it’s not like I can just stop.”
You wanted to hate him, for the way he seemed to pull you in only to push you away, for the way he made you feel like you were everything one second and nothing the next.
But you couldn’t. Because even though you knew it was toxic, even though you knew it was breaking you bit by bit, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go.
Because in those nights, when he looked at you like that, when he touched you like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, you felt wanted. Needed. And no matter how much it hurt afterward, you kept holding onto it, hoping that one day, he’d stop running.
It wasn’t until his friend Jake—of all people—came to talk to you that you started piecing things together. You’d been so caught up in the back-and-forth, the way Heeseung would tease you one moment and ignore you the next, that you never truly understood why. But now, hearing it from Jake, it was like a lightbulb went off in your mind.
Heeseung, despite all the other girls he flirted with, never gave them the attention he gave you. He never kissed them, never looked at them the way he looked at you.
And Jake had confirmed it. Heeseung was in love with you. Hopelessly in love, but he didn’t even know it himself. That’s why he acted the way he did. He didn’t know how to handle it, how to deal with it.
Jake had told you Heeseung was scared. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and it terrified him. So, he’d masked it all with arrogance, with distance. But when he was drunk, then the walls came down, his real feelings would surface. That’s why he’d always show up at your door when he was intoxicated—because, in those moments, he couldn’t hide from what he truly felt for you.
You wanted to be mad at him for hiding behind that facade, for playing with your feelings. But now you understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you; it was that he was so afraid of what this all meant, of what it would do to him, to both of you, that he couldn’t face it. So, he ran, and he used everything he could to keep you at arm’s length, to protect himself from being honest with you.
But knowing the truth didn’t make it hurt less. You still found yourself torn between wanting to be there for him, to help him figure it out, and wanting to protect yourself from getting hurt even more. Because at the end of the day, you were both so damn lost in this mess.
“Look, I know you’re confused. But you need to understand, Heeseung’s been a mess about this. He’s never felt anything like it before. And trust me, he doesn’t know how to handle it.”
You shook your head, trying to process everything Jake was saying. It didn’t seem to make sense. Why hadn’t he just told you? “But why does he act like he doesn’t care? Why ignore me at school like I’m nothing, and then do… all that when he’s with me?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably, knowing the weight of your words. “It’s easier for him to push you away than admit it to himself. He’s scared. He doesn’t get why he’s so into you. So he avoids it.”
You stared at him, your heart racing as everything started to fall into place. But you still had questions, things you didn’t understand. “But why doesn’t he just… talk to me? Be honest?”
Jake shrugged, his eyes softening. “He doesn’t know how to navigate this. It’s easier for him to hide behind his stupid behavior than face the truth.”
You were silent for a long moment, processing all of the information you had gotten.
When you didn`t answer, Jake let out a resigned sigh, his shoulder slumping slightly before he gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You’ve got to make him talk," he said quietly, his voice filled with sympathy. "You’re the only one who can get him to open up. Just… don’t wait forever, okay?"
He gave you one last look before walking off, leaving you standing there with your heart racing in your chest, all of your emotions tangled up in knots.
Your footsteps were heavy as you walked away from the scene, feeling the weight of every question that lingered in your mind. Why did you have to talk to Heeseung? You weren’t his therapist, nor his emotional support. Wasn’t he man enough to talk to you? You clenched your fists, frustration building in your chest.
What if Jake was wrong? What if he was just trying to paint a picture that didn’t exist, feeding you some narrative to make you feel better about the mess you were in? What if you were making a fool of yourself? The thoughts spiraled, doubt flooding your mind. Every interaction with Heeseung now felt like a game you didn’t know how to play, where the rules were constantly changing and you were left scrambling to catch up.
What if you were just a sidepiece? The thought stung more than you wanted to admit, and the image of Heeseung laughing with other girls earlier flashed in your mind. He was always so charming, so easy with them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you were just another stop on his list, a temporary distraction, something to pass the time until someone else caught his eye.
You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead as you made your way to your car. You wanted to be done with this—done with the confusion, the uncertainty, the constant emotional whiplash. But part of you knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing with Heeseung ever was.
But maybe Jake was right. Maybe you could be the one to make him talk—to make him finally admit what was really going on in his head, what he was feeling. But was it worth it? Was risking your heart worth it?
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you.
✰ ✰ ✰
Okay, to be fair, Heeseung had it coming. You repeated it in your mind like a mantra as you looked down at your phone, the screen lighting up with his constant calls and texts. Each one more desperate than the last, his words slurred, the grammar all over the place—clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. The messages seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, but you refused to reply.
You stared at the phone, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something deep and heavy that you couldn’t quite place. He had done this to himself, hadn’t he? He had made his choices, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The constant buzzing of your phone finally slowed, and you thought maybe he had given up. But then, the doorbell rang.
You froze, your stomach dropping. You crept cautiously to the door, standing there for a moment as the bell rang again and again, each chime making your heart race. The knocking started soon after, loud and urgent, but you stayed still, arms crossed, refusing to move.
You weren’t going to let him back in.
The knocking stopped suddenly, and for a moment, everything was silent. And then, through the door, you heard his voice.
“Please… please open the door…” His voice was shaky, desperate, as if he was on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry. Please, I need you. I just… please don’t leave me like this.”
Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him. It was different.
"I need to see you... I can't stop thinking about you... Please, don't... don't shut me out, not now."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously unlocked the door, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the silence. When the door creaked open, you were met with the sight of him sitting on the ground, his posture slumped, eyes staring at the bottle in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
As soon as he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic, as if he couldn't wait another second. Before you could even take a step back, his arms were around you, pulling you into an embrace that was far too tight to push him off.
You gasped in surprise, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest. "Heeseung, wait—" But your protest was quickly smothered as he held you tighter, pressing his face into the side of your neck.
“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you,” he mumbled, his words slurred and uneven, the alcohol clearly taking its toll. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just…” His grip on you tightened, his hands shaking slightly. “Please, don’t hate me… I need you…” His voice faltered, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather the words to say, but before you could form anything coherent, Heeseung’s lips were suddenly on yours. His kiss was urgent, a little sloppy, as though he was trying to drown out whatever feelings were swirling inside him. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and you could feel the weight of his need against you.
"Stop," you whispered weakly, your hands pushing against his chest, but it did little to stop him. If anything, he just leaned in further, his lips moving with a frantic energy as he kissed you harder.
You pulled back for a moment, gasping for air, but Heeseung wasn’t letting go. His forehead rested against your neck as he breathed heavily, his lips brushing against your skin. “I need this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice muffled but laced with desperation. “I need you.”
You tried again, more forcefully this time, pushing him back slightly, but his grip on you tightened. “We need to talk,” you managed, your voice breaking, your hands trembling as you tried to create space between you two. “You can’t just keep doing this—coming to me when you’re drunk, acting like nothing happened—”
But Heeseung didn’t seem to hear you. His eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you again, this time a little more gently, though it still held that same desperate edge.
You couldn’t help but respond, even if you didn’t want to. Heeseung was like a drug, and you were already too far gone, as his kiss deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that this wasn’t how things should be. You deserved more than this chaotic cycle, more than the confusion, the highs and lows.
But in that moment, you let him hold you, let him kiss you, because you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Not when he needed you like this, not when you still felt that pull, even though you knew it wasn’t healthy.
And when he finally pulled away, looking at you with those dark eyes full of longing, you were left breathless, conflicted, and unable to move.
✰ ✰ ✰
It was like a cruel game he played—one step forward, two steps back. After the night, when he’d clung to you, he’d returned to his old ways at school, completely shutting you out. It was as if the moment he left your apartment, the walls came back up, and he was back to pretending you didn’t exist.
You’d see him in the halls, laughing with his friends, flirting with other girls, completely ignoring you like everything that happened between you two meant nothing. It was maddening.
You tried to act like it didn’t bother you. You went through the motions, keeping your head down, focusing on your schoolwork, your friends, anything to distract yourself from the constant ache in your chest. But the more he ignored you, the more you realized just how much it hurt. And it hurt even more because you knew that he wasn’t like this because he didn’t care. He was like this because he was scared. Scared of what was between you, scared of how vulnerable it made him.
Heeseung was a complicated mess, a boy who wanted everything but feared the very thing that could make him feel whole. And you? You were stuck in this limbo, torn between wanting to confront him and just walking away before you got hurt even more.
It was exhausting.
One minute, he was the boy who couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop kissing you, the one who made you feel like the only person in the room. The next minute, he was a stranger.
You were deep in thought, trying to make sense of the mess that was Heeseung, when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Turning to your left, you saw a guy you barely knew—someone who kept to himself at school, never talking much. He was standing there, a nervous but hopeful look on his face, and before you could even react, he asked, “Hey, would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?”
You opened your mouth to decline, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t make him feel bad, but before you could say anything, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in close with surprising force.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively stiffened as you turned to see none other than Heeseung standing there. He leaned in just enough to block your view of the guy, his eyes focused on the nervous stranger.
Before you could protest or say anything, Heeseung’s voice cut through the tension, casual but firm. “She’s not interested,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The quiet guy who had been asking you out now looked taken aback, stepping back a bit, unsure how to respond.
You couldn’t believe what was happening. Heeseung had just walked up and made it clear to someone else that you weren’t available. You wanted to say something, to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. It felt as if everything had suddenly flipped upside down.
“I—uh…” The guy stammered, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” He turned quickly and walked off, leaving the two of you standing there in silence.
You snapped back from the suprise and pulled away from Heeseung’s grip, your mind spinning. “What the hell, Heeseung?” you managed, your voice laced with frustration.
He didn’t say anything at first. His gaze flickered to where the guy had disappeared, and then back to you.
You stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but instead, Heeseung just stood there, his expression unreadable.
"What’s your problem, Heeseung?" you demanded, stepping back. You couldn’t contain the anger that was rising in your chest. "Why are you acting like this?"
He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes avoiding yours for a second. He let out a frustrated sigh before meeting your gaze. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, the words almost sounding like a confession. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
Your heart sank a little, but it didn’t stop the fire that was still burning inside you. You’d had enough of this back-and-forth.
"Then figure it out," you snapped, pushing him off. "I’m not going to keep doing this, Heeseung. Get your shit together."
He didn’t say anything more, but the look in his eyes—so conflicted, so full of uncertainty—said everything.
You turned on your heel, walking away before he or you could say anything. You didn’t know if you were making the right decision, but you couldn’t keep letting him drag you around like this.
It was later that night, after you’d gotten a bit of distance and time to cool down, when you heard the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing again.
You froze for a second, unsure if you wanted to deal with him yet again, but the quiet, hesitant knock that followed told you it wasn’t the same as before. You found yourself standing by the door, hands gripping the doorknob, hesitant to open it.
When you finally did, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, but only.. not the usual version of him you were used to seeing. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and he looked... broken.
His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time in a long time, there was no bravado. He was standing there, vulnerable, as if unsure of how to approach you after everything.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He wiped his face with his sleeve, almost embarrassed. “I fucked up. I know I’ve been an asshole… but I needed to see you. I need to talk.”
You stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. It was hard—too hard. You’d spent so much time questioning his intentions, wondering if he even cared. Seeing him like this, so exposed, made you feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to push him away for all the hurt he’d caused, but another part of you wanted to reach out and hear him out.
“Why now?” you asked quietly, your voice betraying the frustration you’d been holding back. “Why come to me like this? After everything?”
He looked down at the ground, visibly struggling. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I’ve been running from this. From you. From how I feel. And now I’m just… lost.” His words were shaky, like he was trying to hold onto his composure but was failing. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
Instead he stepped closer, and for the first time, there was no arrogance in his movements, no cocky confidence. He looked genuinely lost, as if he was desperately trying to figure himself out. “I don’t know what I’m doing… but I know I want to fix it. Fix us. If you’ll let me.”
You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling a little with uncertainty. “You’ve been so hot and cold. One minute you’re all over me, the next you act like I’m invisible. How am I supposed to trust that this is real?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was gathering the courage to say what had been haunting him. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “I know... I’ve been a mess. I was scared,” he confessed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that… terrified me. And instead of coming to you, talking to you about it, I ran. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”
The way he was standing, so different from how he used to act, made you reconsider everything. He wasn’t hiding behind walls anymore. “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he added quietly, his voice cracking just slightly. “I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me.”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what to say next. You were so unsure now, seeing him spill his heart out for you.
“I don’t feel this with anyone else,” he said softly. “No matter how hard I tried to push it down, it’s always been you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.” He paused for a moment, before he dropped down to his knees in front of you, taking both your hands gently in his, while his eyes never left yours. “I don’t know what I was waiting for. I was stupid, I was scared. But I know now... I love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you were nothing. You’re everything to me. Please... let me prove it.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a long moment, all you could do was look at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You had never imagined he’d say those words, especially after everything that had happened. But now, as he knelt before you, his hands still holding yours with such gentleness, it felt different. It felt real.
Doubts still lingered, but as you looked at him—really looked at him—kneeling before you, his hands gripping yours, something inside you began to shift.
The truth was, you loved him too. Despite everything—the hurt, the confusion—you couldn’t deny that your heart ached for him. And seeing him like this, open in a way you never thought possible for him, made you realize how much you wanted to believe in him, in this. You took a slow breath, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke. “I don’t know, Heeseung…”
He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to say anything more. He just waited, his gaze never leaving yours, hopeful but patient.
You looked down at his hands still holding yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve been hurt, and I don’t want to be hurt again,” you said, your voice wavering just a little.
“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry. But I promise, I’ll do anything to make it right. Just… let me try.”
Your heart ached at his words. And slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded. “Okay. We can try.”
He exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features, but you could see the uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but something inside you told you that this—he—was worth trying for.
He stood up, his hands still holding yours, and pulled you gently into his arms. You let him, your body instinctively melting into his embrace. He buried his face in your hair, his breath warm against your neck.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you see that I mean it.”
Staning there in his arms, the doubts slowly began to fade. Maybe it would take time. But you felt hope stirring within you. Maybe you could try to make this work.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to read your emotions. His hand still cupped your face gently, waiting for a sign from you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low, filled with both uncertainty and hope.
"Yes."
Without another word, his lips descended onto yours, and the kiss was everything. Deep, urgent, and filled with so much emotion that it took your breath away.
When you started to feel breathless you tried to pull away, your breath ragged, but each time you did, he followed you, his lips catching yours again, desperate, insistent. Your heart raced, and your head spun as you tried to pull back for a moment’s reprieve, but Heeseung wasn’t having it.
"Please," he groaned between kisses, his hand gripping your waist tightly. "Just—just let me…" His voice was rough, desperate, as if your lips were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I need you. You… You make my heart beat. You make everything else fade. I want to breathe you in until I can’t breathe anymore."
His words were tangled, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough, like he was trying to make you understand something, but what, exactly, you weren’t sure. His kisses grew more frantic, more needy, and despite your attempts to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but respond to him.
You finally managed to gasp out his name, your voice barely a whisper, "Heeseung... Stop, I need to breathe."
He paused for a split second, just long enough for you to catch your breath, his breathing just as erratic as yours. "I can't... can't stop," he muttered. "You're all I think about... all I want."
✰ ✰ ✰
It was funny how much things had shifted since Heeseung’s confession. You couldn’t deny the change in him. He meant every word he’d said that night, and he made sure to show you just how serious he was about being with you.
Heeseung was intense in everything he did, and his love for you was no exception. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the room, or the way he clung to your hand like letting go would mean losing you. No, it was in the small things too. The way he remembered the little details about you, how he stayed up late just to make sure you got home safe from your late-night shifts, or the way he’d pepper your face with kisses whenever he thought you looked stressed.
And then, there were the nights. Heeseung had always been passionate, but now that he wasn’t holding back, it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He left no part of you untouched, no part of your heart unloved. Your skin bore the evidence of his intensity, faint marks that lingered long after his lips had moved on, a testament to just how much he adored you.
He didn’t just say he loved you; he showed it. In every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, Heeseung made sure you knew just how much you meant to him. And while it could get a little overwhelming at times, you couldn’t deny that it felt good—so good—to be loved so completely.
Heeseung's love was all-consuming, and with it came an intensity that left you breathless. He made it his mission to show you just how deeply he cared. But he never lost the playful side that made you fall for him in the first place.
He still teased you relentlessly, knowing exactly how to make your cheeks flush. “What’s that look for, baby?” he’d smirk when he caught you staring, leaning in close to whisper, “Can’t get enough of me?” His confidence was maddening, but you’d learned to give as good as you got.
Sometimes, he’d flirt with you like you were strangers meeting for the first time. “Hey, gorgeous,” he’d say, slidling up to you with a grin. “Come here often?” It didn’t matter if you were at your desk or in the middle of a crowded hallway; Heeseung always found a way to make you laugh and roll your eyes at his antics.
But then, he’d do a 360 and leave you utterly disarmed. Like the way he’d wrap his arms around your waist out of nowhere, pressing his lips to your ear to murmur, “I love you so much.” It was whiplash, the way he could go from cocky to soft in an instant, and it kept you on your toes.
Now that you had Heeseung basically wrapped around your finger, it felt empowering. He catered to you, always quick to appease your whims, and he seemed to thrive on your happiness. Whether it was picking up your favorite snacks, carrying your bag, or pampering you after a long day, Heeseung was yours—and he made sure you knew it.
But he had his limits.
There were moments when he reminded you that, while he adored you, he wasn’t completely under your control. Like when you pushed him too far with teasing, a playful remark about him being “so soft” for you turning into a challenge in his eyes.
One such night, you’d been cheeky, testing how much you could get away with. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?” you’d teased, a smirk playing on your lips.
Heeseung’s eyes darkened, the shift immediate. “Anything?” he repeated, voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could process, he had you pinned, his hand firm but careful as it held your wrists above your head.
“You like to push me, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Think I’m all soft and sweet?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond before he showed you just how wrong you were. Heeseung wasn’t rough in a careless way—he was calculated, controlled, and oh-so-intense. He left no room for doubt about who had the upper hand in those moments.
By the end of it, you were breathless, your legs trembling as you clung to him for support. Heeseung’s smug grin and the way he kissed your forehead tenderly afterward only made it worse.
“Still think I’m soft?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face.
You couldn’t even answer, too dazed to form words, which only seemed to please him more.
The next day, walking was a challenge, and Heeseung, ever the charmer, had the audacity to chuckle when you winced. “Told you there’s only so much I’ll let you boss me around,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.
It was infuriating, but it was also Heeseung. And if you were being honest, you loved every second of it.
a/n: finished this while waiting for the train to come, in the snow storm :) reblogs and commentary are appreciated <33
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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago
Text
Feral Puppy
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Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI
Genre: colleagues/friends to lovers, fluff, smut
Summary: Hyunjin has the hugest crush on you, and you've been trying to avoid any workplace drama. He's an idol after all. But what are you supposed to do when this feral puppy is totally invested in winning you over?
a/n: Sweaty Jinnie is a weakness 🤭🤭🤭
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You sat at your desk, deep in work. The office was quiet this early in the morning, except for the rhythmic tapping of keys. You were so focused on your task that you barely noticed the group of boys passing by your little cubicle.
That is, until a soft thud caught your attention.
You glanced up, just in time to see a certain dark haired menace dropping a cupcake onto your desk - perfectly adorable with heart-shaped sprinkles, no less.
Hyunjin flashed you a wink that could make anyone melt. And you? You were trying so hard to not react. 
You could feel your heart skip a beat, and you sighed in exasperation, your cheeks heating up. Felix who was passing by gave you a wink. 
“Honestly, I don’t know if I should be flattered or embarrassed.” you muttered, and Felix snorted in response. 
"A little bit of both, I think." He said, picking off a sprinkle and popping it in his mouth.
You couldn’t help but laugh, because Hyunjin had been trying to get your attention for months. He was always sneaking little treats or flowers to your desk, or winking at you as you passed each other in the hallways.
It was adorable in the most frustratingly complicated way, especially since you were colleagues - technically- and it was strictly against the company policy. Especially since he was an idol and all that. 
But you still felt a rush of affection that made your heart ache. Hyunjin was too cute, and you hated that you had to keep it professional.
---
It was just a little after lunch that you had walked into the practice room to have a word with Chan. You've been bracing yourself for impact, because you know what a feral puppy he could be sometimes. 
The second you entered, naturally his head snapped around - he’d caught a whiff of your perfume. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the way his whole body seemed to tense.
"Down, boy!" Changbin barked, grabbing Hyunjin by the collar just as he took an eager step forward.
But Hyunjin just growled, still looking at you with those wide, pleading eyes.
"I just need to see her face," he insisted, his voice a little too dramatic, and oh dear, lets just say it hit you just at the right spot.
Felix was leaning against the wall now, clearly entertained.
"Bro, her face is your phone wallpaper," he teased with a wink.
The comment made you blush harder than you ever had in front of these idiots. Your eyes darted to Chan, who was supposed to be the mature one here. And now the said mature one was desperately trying to stifle his laughter.
You gave him a glare and he just shrugged, like there was nothing he could do to stop this chaos.
“Chan, are you serious right now?!” You hissed and he cleared his throat trying to regain some seriousness. 
But before he could respond, Changbin was back at it, pulling Hyunjin back by the shoulder.
"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "Down, puppy, down."
You couldn't help the little chuckle that left your lips.
God, you loved him. It was undeniable. But there was no way you could get involved with him, not with all the rules in place. You just had to keep pretending that his antics weren’t making your heart flutter in the most inappropriate of ways.
"You’re such a menace, you know that?" You muttered, shaking your head at Hyunjin. 
Hyunjin's eyes sparkled with mischief as he said, "If that means getting your attention, then I’ll gladly wear that title."
Your poor heart screamed at that, because honestly, you loved every minute of it.
And so did he.
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A few days later, you found yourself staying late at the office, finishing up some urgent reports. You were surrounded by an ominous stillness, because you were the only one left working on your floor and it was getting a little creepy by the moment.
You sent your emails quickly, packed up in record speed and bolted out of your workspace. But as soon as you turned the corner, you walked straight into a wall of muscle.
You froze, heart skipping a beat as you looked up slowly. And seeing Hyunjin’s sweaty, disheveled face staring back at you, you let out a sigh of relief.
That didn't last long because this exactly was your biggest…undoing. Sweat soaked Hyunjin was a weakness you didn't even like to discuss with yourself. 
His shirt was soaked through, clinging to his body, and you could actually see the muscles in his chest through it. His damn hair fell messily around his face, and there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead, making him look like some kind of god sent from another realm.
His wide eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You looked away quickly, absolutely embarrassed, but the damage was already done.
You could feel the string of control inside you stretching taut, ready to snap. 
Hyunjin watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Not aggressive. No, it’s playful - and so damn hot.
“Didn’t expect to run into you tonight,” he said, his voice husky. 
You forced yourself to look up at him, and for a second, you both just stared at each other. Your body was screaming for release, but your brain was holding on.
You couldn’t cross that line. Not when it could ruin everything.
"I…uh, didn’t mean to startle you," you managed, your voice trembling just a little too much for your liking.
His scent is intoxicating, a mix of sweat and his cologne. And pheromones or whatever. 
"Startled?" he teased, his lips curling into a smile. "You’re staring. Are you sure you didn’t come to see me?"
"I-I wasn’t staring," you stammered, but you couldn’t even look him in the eye. You were so aware of every inch of him right now - it was like the droplets of sweat trickling down his skin were begging for your attention. 
"You're not fooling anyone, you know," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, sending a wave of heat shooting straight to your core. "You’re trying not to break, but I think it’s too late for that."
“Hyunjin-”
"How long are you going to pretend you don’t want this?" he asked, his words heavy with desire, making your heart race faster. "I can’t be the only one who feels it."
You swallowed hard, your hands trembling, your resolve completely gone. You wanted him so badly, it hurt. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to fight it anymore.
Seeing that he has tormented you enough, Hyunjin pulled back just slightly, giving you a playful look that said, I’ll let you off the hook for now. 
"You’re so annoying," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
He just smiled, completely unfazed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Am I?"
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The next few days were a nightmare. The lingering, burning tension that Hyunjin’s created between you two was literally frying your insides. And let's be real. Seeing him in all his sweat soaked glory, you were so unbearably turned on. 
Seeing you at the edge of your own self control, has unleashed something in him. He knows you were just as interested. That little moment? He was holding onto it. 
So you did the best thing - the only thing at this point - avoiding him. You asked Chan to meet at a conference room for a quick chat when it was necessary. Or you generally didn't venture towards the practice room. 
You’ve learned to keep your distance, at least a little. And you hoped that Hyunjin wouldn't notice. But Hyunjin was not having it. No. He was making it his personal goal to make sure nothing went unnoticed.
---
You were walking through the hallway, minding your business, trying to get to the elevator. You heard the footsteps behind you too late. You could swear you felt the heat of his presence before you even saw him.
Hyunjin, being the menace he was, barreled into you out of nowhere, pressing you up against the wall in a move that was so absolutely ridiculous that for a split second, you wondered if you were dreaming.
“What the hell, Hyunjin?!” you exclaimed, flailing as you try to regain your balance, your palms slapping against the cold wall.
You're heart raced and you glanced around feeling kind of dazed. But Hyunjin just stood there, smirking, totally unbothered.
“What?” he said innocently, his body still pressed against yours. “There’s not enough space to pass.”
“Are you serious?!” You flailed again, trying to step aside, but he just shifted his body to keep you pinned, making it impossible to escape. 
“Oh my God, Hyunjin, move!” You were flushed, not just from the physical contact, but from the audacity of it all. You didn’t even know if you were angry, embarrassed, or completely turned on. 
He looked down at you, his eyes glittering with something so mischievously feral.
“I know you don't mind, sweetheart,” he said, and you groaned internally. How did he keep doing this? The way he was so confident, so sure of himself. 
“Hyunjin, please.” You tried to get him to step back, but it’s like he’s glued to you.
“I didn't even do anything,”
Oh the nerve!
You tried to wiggle away, but his arms came up on either side of you, trapping you even further. You’re caught, pressed against the wall with nowhere to go, and his body is all around you.
“Let me go, Hyunjin,” you breathed, but it’s almost a plea now. “There are cameras everywhere!”
His grin widened as he watched you, and said, “Oh is there?”
You let out a soft growl of frustration, realizing you’ve lost all sense of control. Your grip on his shirt tightened, and Hyunjin bit his bottom lip seductively. Your were trembling in his arms. 
Maybe that was what he was aiming for, because he dropped his arms and took a step back. 
You quickly scrambled away, muttering curses under your breath as you speed-walked away. And Hyunjin watched you go, that mischievous smirk never leaving his face. 
“See you around, sweetheart,” he calls out after you.
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Hyunjin has successfully invaded every corner of your mind that you had so meticulously disciplined against doing exactly that. 
The teasing. The tension. Oh the need - it's been eating you alive. You couldn’t focus at work. You couldn’t go anywhere without your heart hammering at the thought of him. 
You’ve tried to ignore it, tried to compartmentalize it, but the truth is - you were well past the point of no return.
And then, of course, it happens again.
It was another late night at the office - one you tried so hard to avoid, but here you were. You were discreet and quiet.
You thought you'd made it. That this time you’d escaped his clutches. But as you walked down the dimly lit hallway, your heart just started to race again.
Because of course, he was coming toward you from the other side. And he stopped in front of you, his hands stuffed into his pockets. 
"Are you trying to avoid me?" he asked, his voice so low and husky, you wanted to jump off a cliff.
You swallowed hard, shaking your head as you said, “Why would I do that?”
Your voice wavered worse than a leaf in a storm. 
“Just making sure you don’t get any ideas,” he whispered - his face was so close now that you can feel his breath on your lips.
You were so damn tempted to lean in just a little. You shouldn’t. You couldn't.
“You know, I’m waiting for you to crack, baby,” he murmured. “Just let go, you know you want to.”
Your heart raced and flipped and fluttered all at once, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. You tried to step back but obviously there's nowhere to go. But he followed, matching your every movement.
“Hyunjin,” you said his name so softly, a breathless sound that made his eyes flash with something darker, something predatory. “Please, just-”
But he was done playing nice. His hand came up to gently hold your chin, lifting your face so you couldn't look away and you were forced to meet his gaze.
“You think you can just keep running from me?” he breathed, stepping impossibly closer. “If you didn't want me, you would've said that by now. But you keep me hanging, and I'm just about done with that.”
And that was when you lost it.
Before you knew what you were doing, your hand came up to grip the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His lips crashed against yours, desperate, unrestrained. The kiss was hot, messy - all tongue and teeth.
And it was everything you’ve wanted.
He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you even closer. His body was hard and slick with sweat, and you could feel the heat radiating from every inch of him. 
His lips trailed down your neck, making you gasp as he kissed the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Told you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot. “I knew you couldn’t keep pretending.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips  slightly swollen from the kiss. 
“I need to hear it, okay?” he said, his voice low and filled with promise. “Tell me you want this too.”
You looked at him, your breath coming in shallow pants. You were done pretending.
“No more running,” you whispered. “I want you too…”
And Hyunjin gave you a smile so radiant, you could die happily at the moment.
“Come on,” He said, taking your hand and pulling you away. “Let's go somewhere safe.”
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A room next to their studio. Barely used. Kind of dusty. But it worked.
The minute you stepped in, his lips were on yours. He had you pressed up against the cold wall of the unused office, your bodies tangled together in an almost desperate need. Your hands tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off, and he didn’t even hesitate, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. 
His hands roamed over you, caressing, groping, pulling you closer as if he was starving for you. 
“God, I love you-” He growled, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you into him. The heat  radiating off his body and the feel of every muscle flex beneath his skin - you were blinded by it. 
His hands were sliding up your sides, tugging at your clothes, as if he was hungry to see every inch of you. You gasp when his fingertips grazed the skin of your waist, as he took off your shirt. 
"Hyunjin..." you whispered, breathless, the sound of his name escaping your lips like a prayer. 
"You’re so fucking beautiful," he growled, his lips finding their way down down chest. His fingers pulled down the cup of your bra, as he pressed soft kisses around the flesh. 
Your lips parted, but no words came out, just breathy gasps as his lips wrapped around your nipple. The soft scrape of his teeth on your skin made you shiver, and you couldn't stop the low moan that escaped from deep in your chest.
“Fuck baby,” he moaned against your skin, his breath hot, sending goosebumps across your body.
“Hyunjin,” you gasped, tugging him closer, your hands finding his waistband of his sweats. He groaned, clearly as desperate as you are, and his lips crashed back to yours. His tongue sweeped over yours, and you lost yourself in the kiss.
His hands moved down to your waist, his grip tightening as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you felt how hard he was for you. 
He carried you effortlessly toward the desk in the corner of the room. Placing you on the edge of the desk, his hands trailed up your thighs as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn't stop the trembling in your body as you pulled him closer. 
Hyunjin’s hands move quickly, pulling off the rest of your clothes. His dark eyes take in your body, pupils blown wide with lust. 
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands sliding over the exposed skin of your tummy. 
“Hyunjin… now.” you said desperately, pulling at his pants again, and they're gone in a flash. 
When he finally stood completely bare before you, the sight of him sent a shock of heat straight through your body. He was so beautiful - every inch of him. 
His eyes never left yours as he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your waist as he brought you closer to him. You felt his hard length pressed against you, and you whimpered softly at the thought of what’s about to happen.
“I need you,” you whispered, your hands running through his hair, pulling him in for another kiss. “Now.”
And with that, Hyunjin moved, spreading your legs and pushing into you slowly. You shivered as he filled you completely, stretching you out.
You gazed up at him, the beads of sweat (he was sweating again - again) trickling down the side of his face. 
“Oh my God,” You whined softly, closing your eyes, and he grinned, a chuckle escaping his lips. He began to move, slipping in and out of you with every thrust. Your hands gripped at the edges of the desk, trying to steady yourself as the pleasure built between you both.
You were so wet, and Hyunjin couldn't stop looking at where you two were connected, and with a frustrated sigh, he pulled out completely. 
You gasped and stared up at him, as he grabbed your legs and pulled you more to the edge and then, his face was in between your thighs. 
You almost shrieked - because that was absolutely unexpected. He wasn't wasting any time, his tongue lapping at your dripping folds and nudging your clit. Your hand landed on his hair, pulling at it gently and Hyunjin hummed - the vibrations of it making you drip even more.
“Hyun… Hyunjin!” You moaned, as he licked softly over your clit and nibbled on it gently making your breath catch. 
It didn't take long for your first orgasm to crash down over you, and when Hyunjin straightened, he had the most satisfied grin on his face. 
“You're so sweet, baby,” He cooed and you were sure your cheeks were at least two shades redder than before. “I couldn't resist it.”
You laughed, a tired one at that and he laughed with you before stepping in between your legs again. He ran his hands up and down your thighs and you watched, breathing heavily. 
“Can I?” He asked softly, and you nodded with a smile. 
It felt deliciously good when he slipped in this time, and the rhythm between you was slow at first -  tender - but it didn't take long for that to change. Hyunjin’s need took over, and he began to move faster and harder, his body crashing into yours with a force that left you breathless.
The sound of his body slapping against yours filled the room, and you couldn't stop the moans that escaped your lips. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you clung on to him tightly. 
He was everywhere - his hands, his lips, his body - and you were drowning in him.
You pull him closer, you lips kissing down his neck -  glistening with sweat - and you loved the way he moaned as you bit down right below his ear. 
You didn't know this was such a turn on for you until today. This man did things to you that even you didn't understand. And you didn't mind really. 
And you could feel that knot tightening in your belly again. Your eyes met, and you gripped him tightly, as his name escaped your lips in a breathless gasp. 
Your whole body shuddered as you hit your peak again, and Hyunjin kept moving, till you heard him groan and pull out quickly, spilling all over your tummy.
You were both left breathless, hearts racing, tangled together in a mess of sweat and your releases. For a moment, neither of you speak. 
Finally, Hyunjin gently cupped your face with his hand, his eyes softening. 
“I love you, Y/N. So damn much.” He whispered and you could swear you've never seen him being this serious. Ever. 
“I love you too, Jinnie,” You said, and your smile had him smiling. And the two of you were giggling and hugging each other tightly. 
“I told you I’d make you mine,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing a gentle kiss there.
“Yeah yeah,”
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The next morning, you walked into the office, trying to act like everything was normal. But as soon as you stepped in, the atmosphere just felt different. 
You sat down at your desk, but before you could  even open your laptop, Changbin, Felix, and Chan came strolling into the office like they’ve been waiting for you. 
Oh they knew. 
“Morning, Y/N,” Changbin said, his tone way too casual. “Sleep well?”
You forced a smile, trying to stay calm, but inside you’re screaming. 
“Yeah, sure. Thanks for asking.” you managed to say, as you avoided making eye contact with him. 
“I’m sure you had a very eventful night, huh?” Felix was leaning against your desk now, his chin on his hand and a toothy grin in place. 
You dropped your head into your hands, already feeling the embarrassment creeping up. And then, you heard it. That sweet, chuckle which had you wanting to crawl under your desk and never come out. 
“Hyunjin,” you hissed, glaring at him as he strutted over to you, like a damn puppy who’s just been given a treat. 
And he looked so fucking proud of himself.
"Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, dropping that mandatory cupcake on your desk. 
You didn't hold back the sigh.
“Oh my God, Hyunjin,” you whined, burying your face in your hands in defeat. “Please.”
“What? You think they didn’t notice?” he asked innocently, pointing at the spot under his ear, where he sported a very evident hickey. 
Oh you wanted to die. Felix snickered, totally enjoying this. 
“And you’re glowing love, it looks good.” he said kindly. 
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you groaned, pressing your fingers into your temples. “Could you not?”
“You know we should have a talk about office etiquette. But then again... if it was that good…” Chan added, raising his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced between you and Hyunjin. 
“I’m going to murder all of you.” 
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Divider: @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l
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