#it came out really well but it was So Much food. had to put some of mine away for later
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writeriguess · 22 hours ago
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Hiiiiiiiiiii I was wondering if you write for Dabi (bnha) and if so could you have a super oblivious reader? He has strong feelings for her and she feels the same way, but she doesn't have a lot of self confidence and is so convinced he couldn't love her that she doesn't notice the signs that he *does* at all. Shigaraki or Dabi himself have to spell it out for her. I hope you're doing well c:
author's note: Yes of course I write for Dabi <3
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Burning
The first time Dabi realized he had it bad for you, he almost laughed at himself. Him? Catching feelings? What a joke.
But the joke was on him, because now he was stuck with it—with you, this annoyingly sweet, absolutely clueless little thing who had no idea how deep he was in. He'd tried to make it obvious. He stuck around when he normally wouldn’t, let you ramble about whatever nonsense filled your head, stole you food when you forgot to eat. He even softened his usual sharp tone when he spoke to you, which, coming from him, was practically a love confession in itself.
And yet, you remained completely, infuriatingly oblivious.
"You gonna keep starin’ at her, or are you actually gonna grow a pair and say something?" Shigaraki drawled from across the room, idly scratching at his neck.
Dabi clicked his tongue, tearing his gaze away from where you were sitting on the worn-out couch, nose buried in a book. "Mind your own business."
Shigaraki just smirked. "It is my business when I have to watch you pine like a damn schoolboy every day. It’s embarrassing."
Dabi scowled, but before he could snap back, you looked up. "What’s embarrassing?"
He didn’t miss the way your gaze flickered to him, then away just as fast, like you couldn’t possibly believe he was the topic of conversation. He clenched his jaw.
"Nothing," he muttered. "Shigaraki’s just talking out of his ass again."
You smiled, and something about how soft it was made his stomach twist. "You two are always bickering. It’s kinda cute."
Shigaraki barked out a laugh. "Yeah? You think that’s cute? What about Dabi stealing food for you every damn day? Or how he only ever watches your stupid movies when you put them on? Or—"
"Shut up," Dabi growled, but the damage was done. You were blinking at Shigaraki like he’d just spoken in a foreign language.
"Wait… what?"
Shigaraki rolled his eyes. "Holy shit. You seriously didn’t notice?" He gestured vaguely at Dabi. "This idiot’s practically in love with you."
Your lips parted, but no words came out. Dabi felt his face heat—though whether it was from anger or something else, he wasn’t sure.
You stared at him like you were trying to process some impossible equation. "But that’s… no. That doesn’t make sense."
He scoffed, forcing himself to lean back against the couch, arms crossed like he wasn’t seconds away from combusting. "And why’s that?"
"Because you’re you. And I’m just… me."
Dabi’s jaw ticked. "You say that like it means something."
You looked away, fingers twisting in your lap. "It does. I mean, you could have anyone. Why would you…"
He let out a slow breath through his nose. "You really are a dumbass."
Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "What—"
"I don’t do this kind of thing, alright? I don’t stick around. I don’t care about people. But you—" His voice dropped, rough with something raw. "You got under my damn skin, and now I’m stuck with it. So yeah, I like you. I thought I was making it obvious, but clearly, that was giving you too much credit."
You opened your mouth, then shut it again. Then, after a moment, you let out a shaky laugh. "You are making it obvious. I’m just an idiot."
Dabi smirked. "Yeah, but you’re my idiot."
The warmth in your gaze made something in him settle, just a little. Finally, finally, you got it.
Shigaraki groaned. "Thank God. Now can you two get out of my sight? I’m gonna throw up."
Dabi didn’t look away from you as he flipped Shigaraki off. Because for once, he didn’t care about anything else.
Not when you were looking at him like that.
But of course, nothing was that simple. Because while you finally realized how he felt, you still couldn’t seem to believe it.
The next day, Dabi caught you staring at him, eyes narrowed, as if trying to puzzle something out. When he raised a brow, you quickly looked away, face heating.
It happened again at dinner. And again when you were sitting together, watching some dumb show you liked. Every time, you’d glance at him like you were trying to see what Shigaraki had pointed out, and each time, your expression would shift into uncertainty, like you still couldn’t quite accept it.
Dabi sighed. "Are you gonna say something, or just keep staring at me like a creep?"
You flinched. "I’m not staring."
"Yeah, you are."
You fidgeted. "I just… I’m trying to understand."
Dabi frowned. "Understand what?"
You bit your lip, hesitating. "You really like me?"
He groaned. "Are we seriously still on this? Yes. I like you. I want you. Do I need to spell it out more? Want me to tattoo it on my forehead? Because at this point, I might as well."
Your face turned red, but you still looked doubtful. "I just… I don’t get why."
Dabi dragged a hand down his face. "You ever think maybe it’s not something you have to ‘get’? Maybe you should just accept it and stop making this harder than it needs to be?"
You still looked unconvinced, but after a moment, you exhaled. "Okay."
Dabi narrowed his eyes. "Okay?"
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Okay."
For the first time in weeks, Dabi felt like he could breathe. "About damn time."
You laughed softly. And when you leaned just a little closer, Dabi figured maybe this whole feelings thing wasn’t so bad after all.
Feel free to request <3
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je0ng1nn · 1 day ago
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WILD FLOWER — CHO SANGWOO
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𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ PAIRING — Cho Sangwoo x Pregnant!reader
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ TYPE — Fluff, little bit of angst?
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ NOTE — Hey y‘all! this is my first fanfic on Tumblr, i do have some experience in generally writing things like this, but i have no knowledge when it comes to writing here.. so bare with me🤍 This is supposed to be a little fanfic about Sangwoo where he won the games and came home to his pregnant wife, have fun!
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It was a cold afternoon, the sun wasn’t shining. Rain falling down the sky as Sungwoo came home from the Squid Games. He won. He didn’t know if it was worth it, killing his old friend for money? But he just had to.. he didn’t want his child to grow up poor. He knew he needed to, for his baby, for his wife.. and for him.
He got the keys out of his pocket as he opened the door. „Y/N? I‘m home,“ He said. He never told her the truth, where he was. Or what he did. It was always just a business trip in America.
„Sangwoo?“ A soft female voice called out, slowly walking to the door. Her shocked face turned quickly into a surprised and happy one. She immediately hugged him.
„Finally! You’re home! I missed you a lot.. The business trip must‘ve been really tough.“ She let slowly go of him, her hands wandering to his shoulders as she looked into his eyes.
„It was, but we got the deal. We have enough money now, jagiya. Our little trouble maker will have a good childhood, i promise.“ He sighed. The memories still played in his head. It was like a nightmare. He got a card, which would give him access to the bank account. He didn’t planning telling her how much he won. After all, 45,6 billion won was a lot of money.
„Really? Ah.. it makes everything easier, i‘m happy everything went well.“ She smiled. She closed the door behind him to not let more rain into the house. Sangwoo got out of his shoes and hung his jacket next to her‘s. Everything was tidy.
His wife turned to him, she was holding his hands as she guided him to the kitchen „I was just cooking Tteokbokki, do you want some too?“ Sangwoo‘s eyes shined, he loved her Tteokbokki, and maybe, just maybe he can calm down a little. He kissed her forehead
„Of course Jagiya, your Tteokbokki is the best!“ Y/N giggled at his compliment before putting something in a bowl, she got out two plates for each of them. „Let me help you. You shouldn’t do so much, the baby can come any time.“ He took the plates from her and put them down, after he went again for chopsticks.
Y/N was already sitting at the table, deep in thoughts. „Something was wrong with him.. he isn’t like this normally.. hm“ Sure, Sangwoo was a big Introvert, he didn’t show a lot of emotion. But he always had a soft spot for his wife, after all it’s his first, and only love in his whole life. It did something to her. But she didn’t bother saying anything, if there’s something, he would tell her.
Y/N and Sangwoo ate together the meal she cooked. „Thank you for the delicious meal darling, I missed your cooking. In the States there wasn’t a lot of Korean food“ She smiled at his compliment, like she would always do.
He loves her smile, it always brightens the room. „Really?“ Sangwoo nodded, before looking down at his food again. „Ah, Sangwoo?“ He looked back at her, a curious look. „Lets go to the States sometimes yeah? I really want to go! Also we should go to your Mom, she misses you a lot yeah?“
Sangwoo‘s heart started to warm up at the mention of his Mom. She loved her a lot, she also didn’t know anything about what happened, and he also couldn’t tell her at all. „Oh really? We should go to the States if you want to go that bad“ He chuckled, he finally had the money again to go anywhere she wants, give her the life she dreamed of. „And for my mom, why don’t we go there together tomorrow?“ Y/N nodded, she replied with a short sure, and they both continued to eat in a comfortable silence.
——————————————————————————
Y/N was already laying in bed, reading a book. Sangwoo was doing the dishes and did some callings. It was always like this, it was normal. Y/N thought.
Finally he was back home, the business trip was long enough, she missed him a lot. The door opened, a tried sangwoo behind it. „Baby?“ he called out, earning her attention. „Whats up?“ She put the book away, sitting up more than she was already doing.
„A… friend of mine passed away, she had a brother in a Adoption center.. it was her last wish that someone would take care of him.. I know we already have the stress with the baby.. but-„
Y/N stopped him, „Of course! The poor boy, oh my.. We should go see him after visiting your mom yeah? I‘m sure he‘ll be happy seeing a friend of his big sister wanting to take care of him.“
Sangwoo, sat down on his side of the bed, turning around to look at her. „Really? I have the money now.. let’s buy a bigger house, so we can fit him in..“ He smiled. he felt guilty for killing Sae-byeok. She would’ve died anyway, but after hearing what she said to Gi-hun, he wanted to atleast let her last wish come true.
„That sounds wonderful. I‘d love to, let‘s plan everything tomorrow yes? You should go to sleep now.“ Y/N kissed him, a passionate kiss on his lips, Sangwoo let himself fall into her touch. It made him feel loved, the feeling he missed for the last days.
He nodded and layed down himself, he was exhausted. He turned of the lamp on his left. The two wished each other a good night before drifting of to sleep together.
——————————————————————————
„You’re a monster Sangwoo, it was a mistake loving you. Why did you do that? You killed for money, like a greedy animal. Killing your friends without a second thought. Lying to them.“ Sangwoo stood in a empty room, it looked like the Squid game‘s. Infront of him his Wife, it felt familiar but also so strange.
„Have you heard me?! A monster!“ the voice screamed this time. Anger could be heard clearly. „N-no.. it’s not-.. I-..“
„You can‘t excuse this Sangwoo. You‘ll be a Monster. No matter what you‘ll try or do. Its over!“ and out of nowhere his Wife fell to the floor. He ran to her. the only thing laying there was a dead body and blood. When he looked up, the room slowly started to write „YOU’RE A MONSTER“ all over itself. Sangwoo started to cry, shaking his wife‘s body.
„Y/N!! Y/N pease stand up! I love you haven’t you heard? Don’t leave me!!“ Nothing happened and out of nowhere the guards came in. Took his wife away and all he had was himself and the voice that sounded like his Wife’s which kept telling he‘s a monster.
——————————————————————————
Sangwoo jumped up, sweaty and exhausted. He was shaking. He started to cry, the guilt and fear overflowing him as he sat in his bed. Of course this didn’t go unnoticed by the sleeping Y/N. She slowly woke up to the crys of her Husband.
„Sangwoo? Love? what happened?“ Still tired but worried she took his face in her hands, whipping away his tears. „I-it’s..“ he could barely talk, the fear keeping him from doing anything. „I thought i-i lost yo-.. you..“
„Shhh.. look at me, everything’s alright yeah? It was just a nightmare, i would never leave you.“ He couldn’t tell her the truth, atleast not yet. He would when the time was right, but now it would be too.. risky. Y/N kissed him passionately and slowly, letting him melt and calm down. Her hand was on his shoulder now, caressing it. It often helped him calm down a little..
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Hey guys it’s me again! I had a lot of fun writing this so i hope y‘all love it🤍, I‘m maybe planning on doing a second part on this where he has a family and all and finally plans on tell her, if y‘all want to ofcourse ;). If you have any requests, just tell me! I‘d love to write storys with your ideas.
I write mostly about K-drama actors/characters and K-Idols! So anythinf in that topic would be fine🤍 Until next time !
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storiesbyjes2g · 19 hours ago
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3.212 Tropical storm Chi Chi
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Despite the joy I felt from Maira's news, I still felt...off. My emotions were all over the place, and I kinda wanted to be alone to sort myself out. I'd usually go for a jog or something, but I didn't want to leave the comfort and safety of my home. So, as much as I could, I stayed away from my girls. Luckily, Desiree was more interested in her Winterfest gifts, and Sophia had chores to do. I thought I'd grab some food and eat in the living room because it's quiet in there, but no sooner than I sat down, someone knocked at the front door. I groaned at the loss of my me time and for my nerves; it was Chi Chi. She came in, yammering on about her grandson, Titus, and how cute he is, and how big he's getting, and how much she loves him, and how her daughter is pregnant again, and how she hopes she and the boyfriend plan to get married. I had eaten several bites of my pineapple fried rice before she really noticed me.
"You're looking mighty relaxed and happy, mister! Sophia gave you some extra Winterfest loving?"
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"Ha. Something like that. You look rather refreshed yourself. We just got back from Mt. Komorebi."
"Oh, that's old news. I let this fancy business guy try to impress me with a weekend Sulani trip a few weeks ago. I knew it wasn't going to work, but I appreciate the tan, ha ha!"
Sophia came downstairs, and Chi Chi hopped on her like flies on dog poop. I don't recommend anyone getting caught in Chi Chi's tsunami of words, but I was glad to get her attention off me. I tried to ignore them and go back to my space, but I couldn't help but eavesdrop. After all, they were just a few feet from me, and Chi Chi was way too eager to discuss this alleged glow I have about me. Hearing my wife and my friend gush about good I put it down was not the way I saw my evening going, but at least they weren't talking about the fire. I know if it came up, she'd slip into supportive friend mode quick and smooth like a ninja. Caring and making you feel seen is one of her best traits, but that's just not what I want right now.
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They talked and giggled some more, and I finished my dinner. At some point, though, I heard little feet overhead stepping toward the stairs. I should have known an unfamiliar voice would draw Desi away from her play time. Sure enough, she traipsed downstairs, and Chi Chi could not contain herself.
"OH my word!! Look at how big you are! You are just the cutest thing!! She looks so much like both of you!! And those eyes! Hello, gorgeous! Oh, she's gonna be so much trouble when she's a teenager!"
Desi stared at her, half smiling and kinda dazed. I snickered because I knew that exact feeling.
"Mommy," she whispered, "who's this?"
Sophia and Chi Chi laughed.
"You don't have to be afraid of little ol' me! I'm Chi Chi! I met you when you were just a cute little thing!"
"Chi Chi is a friend of ours," Sophia said.
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I'm sure we all breathed a sigh of relief when her phone buzzed.
"Oh, I've got to run. Karmi Karms isn't feeling too well; you know how the first trimester is. Why she doesn't ask the boyfriend for help is beyond me. I know a girl needs her mother, but what's the point of having a man in the house if he's useless?! Anyway, happy New Year's Eve, everybody! I'll see you soon!"
And with that, she disappeared as quickly as she arrived. She is something else. With peace restored in our home, heh, and Desi looking to be social, I seized the opportunity I wanted from this morning.
"Hey, Des, you wanna do yoga with me?"
"YEAH!!"
We changed into our workout gear and went outside. It's too bad Sophia isn't into wellness. We could do yoga as a family.
Desi chose a mat, and I took the one in front of her.
"You're good at mimicking the moves, but now you need to understand why you're doing them and how to get the most out of them."
She was so excited; she couldn't stay still.
I got into position for a pose, and she followed.
"This is called the downward dog pose."
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Of course, the name made her giggle. I got up to make sure she did it right and to provide more instruction.
"This is one of the most basic poses. Plant your feet flat on the mat and try not to get on your toes. You should feel that stretch going all the way up your leg. Do you feel it?"
"I feel it!"
"Good. You should always plant your feet flat on the mat and dig your toes into it. That'll keep you balanced and give you a strong footing. But also when you do yoga, you want to create resistance to stretch all your muscles, so that's another reason."
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I took her through all the basic poses, and then we did them together. It gave me the calm I needed, and barring anything bad happening tomorrow, I'd say the year ended on a good note.
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Chi Chi's grandson!
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manhattanstrawberry · 2 days ago
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AND YOU NEVER KNEW, HOW MUCH I REALLY LIKED YOU...
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Synopsis : Finally coming to see the famed Onigiri Miya after years of waiting, Osamu welcomes you with a meal from his very hands. But it seems as though you’ve both had moments that never got communicated over the phone and some news are a bit more shocking than others.
Tags: Onigiri Miya Osamu, old friendships, reunion, slight angst, mutual pining
Warnings: none
Word count: 2.4k
Author's note: when I said osamu brainrot I didn’t mean for it to be angst but I’ve been thinking about a bittersweet ending or an angst fic for osamu a lot so I did that first but trust! I will do a happy fic with a good ending for osamu soon!! I hope you enjoy! ღ
Song reference
Art credit: @Freaka_LoonyZ
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It’s been a while, and the frosty tips of snow settle into your hair as you briskly cross the street, trying your best not to slip on shallow snow piles lining the asphalt road. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to go to the restaurant in person much since immediately moving to Tokyo for university after graduating high school. He’s sent you photos and videos of the whole process from the moment he toured it as an option to buy and the moment he opened up to the public. You’d been supporting him through it all and today after so long you’d finally get a chance to surprise him and well give your own greeting to the restaurant. 
You’re excited to see him as you walk into the restaurant, the ring of the little door bell and the warmer air inside immediately had your shoulders dropping from their tense posture before.
The lighting is comforting and a little dim from the warm lighting from the ceiling. There’s a few plants around and small dining tables. You can smell the lingering aroma from the kitchen traveling into the dining area and the faint smell of coffee beans. Taking a quick glance back at the little door bell next to the entrance had you grinning from ear to ear. It’s the same one you had looked at back in your third year at a little arts store on a field trip to Osaka. You suggested putting this cute little door bell by the door despite the fact that it wouldn't match the aesthetics of his restaurant at all. All in fun nature. But somehow the cute little bunny found its way to his restaurant, letting him know there was someone out there ready to try his food. 
Walking in you see a few workers by the counter, some on the grill while their customer watches, another garnishing a roll and another disappearing into the door towards the back— the kitchen you assume. But you don’t see Osamu, and you’re afraid you might’ve missed him this evening. You look a little through the door to see your assumptions proved correct as you see a peak of the sleek kitchen through the door, but still no Osamu. Your shoulders slump a bit as you take one of the high seats by the long counter, placing your purse in your lap. 
The most you’ve seen of Osamu as of recently, is really his twin on the television for matches or when you attend his games in Tokyo on a whim to visit an old friend. And you’re hoping this time you get to see the one with his real hair color instead of a clearly fake blonde. 
“Hi, what can I getcha?” 
The sound of a young male voice interrupts your thoughts as you come back down to reality. 
“Hi, is the owner here?” A little nervous to finally see him in his own restaurant and to be told that he left to do something at the very moment you came to visit. 
“Ya, he’s in the back finishing up something, do ya need him?” 
“Oh yes please– unless he’s busy I can wait.” You nod. 
The worker nods back at you before disappearing into the kitchen. You twiddle your thumbs and pull at the packaged chopsticks, tearing the paper and rolling it into little balls before you hear footsteps coming out of the kitchen door and your face lights up. You can see his eyes widen as his mouth slightly opens in shock. He’s shaking his head in disbelief teasingly and you nod right back at him. You're here. 
“Can’t tell if being on my feet the whole day ‘s starting to make me hallucinate or if yer really there. 
“I’m finally here!” 
“It’s been like what, 3000 years?” He’s standing in front of you across the counter, his hands on the counter as he leans closer to you. 
“Oh, stop. You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to come here— I never ever got the time!” Your hands move along as you talk, punctuating every word you say. 
You still do that
He knows you’ve had a lot on your plate with graduating university and travelling. He doesn’t hold it against you, but he can feel his heart pumping blood 2x times more than the usual rate and the tips of his ears getting warm at the sight of your smile, in his restaurant. 
“I bet ya never went grocery shopping this week so yer stuck with eating out, yeah?” 
“You’re terrible.” 
He gives you a teasing smile that soon settles into a gentle one, soft and familiar. 
“I see the little bunny rabbit by the door.” You give a mischievous grin, as he gives a faux sigh of annoyance. 
“Ya, had some city girl pestering me about it a few years back.” He starts to shuffle some plates to his side as he teases you, his eyes glancing at you for one second as he works quickly. He doesn’t want to look away from you for too long. You’re too beautiful and he can’t have you disappearing again. 
“How did you even get it, I was with you the whole time.” You tilt your head, truly confused at how he managed to get the little door bell. 
“Ran back– no sprinted right before we left the city.” His face showed nothing but cockyness. “So fast, ya barely missed me.” 
You give him a laugh and he feels like he’s running through a field of tulips to meet you in the middle.
You go silent for a while and your smile goes soft. And he just looks at you, waiting for whatever you want to say to him. 
“Seriously Osamu.” You look around you slowly before focusing back on his face. “It looks— the restaurant looks amazing. Just beautiful.” 
His lips stay shut as you pause. 
“I’m really so proud of you.” 
He feels a little bashful. He can feel the blood rise to his cheeks and he can almost feel himself tear up a little. 
“Thank you.” He’s grateful with every fiber and bone of his body. “I couldn’t do it without ya— seriously.” 
“Please, I barely did anything and it’s been years.” 
“Ya supported me a lot though for the years ya were here for and the ones ya weren’t.” He pulls his Onigiri Miya cap off his head, before extending his arms to secure it on yours. “Take the thank you.” 
“Okay, you’re welcome.” You nod back to him, giving him a gentle smile. He’s come so far, from everyone thinking he was doing the wrong thing leaving volleyball to follow his real dreams and aspirations to owning his own restaurant. You couldn’t be more proud of him. 
“So want anything? On the house.” 
“Hm.” You slide the menu in front of you, humming as you look at the options. “Surprise me! And I’m paying, I have to.” 
He gives you a hearty chuckle, as if you’re an unbelievable talking dog. “Yer not paying for anything.” 
He places the steaming dish in front of you, your eyes lighting up at the meal. 
“Wow, it looks great!.” 
“Wait till ya have a bite.” He smirks a little as you reach for the onigiri on the plate. 
“Wow, ishs fanthatshic.” You muffle, with your mouth closed, as you chew down into the onigiri. “Cod?’ 
“Grilled salmon.” He nods. “And I get the best rice from Kita.” 
“Wow, that's great!” You swallow your bite before you’re going for another one. 
“Ya gotta a lot of wow’s tonight.” 
“It’s so good, Samu. You do takeout right?” 
Another laughs leaves his lips, he picks up a dish rag and wipes a clean spot over and over to avoid staring at you as you enjoy the food cooked by him. 
“Souta would love this.” 
His arm pauses for a moment, the clean spot— even more clean is neglected. He doesn’t remember any cousin of yours named Souta. Maybe he’s just a friend from university. 
You’re still chewing, and he can see the clear enjoyment from your face.
“Are you dating anybody?” You say in between bites as you go for another. “I wouldn’t believe it if you're still single and you cook like this. God, Samu. I think I have to move from Tokyo.” 
He laughs once again, and rubs the bottom of his nose with the sleeve of his arm. 
“No, I’ve got no time f’that.” He leans against the counter. 
You’ve got one last onigiri on your plate and you’re trying to restrict yourself from gulping it down. But you can’t help yourself and take a bite out of it. 
“God, no wonder I had the biggest crush on you in highschool.” And you’re gulping down another bite without a care in the world. 
“No, ya didn’t.” He laughs as he takes the plate from in front of you and places it on the counter beside him. 
“I did, you knew!” 
The both of you are silent, and the long pause has you looking away from the onigiri and at Osamu. His smile is gone and he’s got this unreadable expression on his face. Your face falls at the sight of his expression. 
“Osamu.” 
He chuckles a bit, before reaching for the rest of the things set up on the counter by your seat.
“I didn’t know.” 
You’re still silent, you don’t know what to say after he made that face and you’re still trying to figure it out. 
“That’s funny.” 
And he sounds a bit too serious for someone finding humor in something. 
“Are you laughing at my sad highschool crush on you.” You laugh softly, trying to ease the unsettling feeling in your stomach. 
“No.” He laughs again, it's strained. “I was completely in love with ya in highschool.” 
And he’s sure he still is. 
You put down the onigiri, afraid that if you take another bite you might end up choking. He stops organizing the plates or utensils or whatever's in front of him and he just stops, like it hurts to move. The silence is deafening, and crawls along the hairs of your skin. And for a moment you almost feel yourself tearing up but you don’t allow it. 
His heart has completely dropped into his stomach as he clears his throat. 
You blink and drink some of the water in front of you to push down that gnawing feeling in your throat. 
“Wow.” 
“Well, it’s in the past right.” Another pained laugh leaves him, as he goes to wipe the area where your plate sat before. 
He kind of wishes you’d stop him there, tell him you’ve still got those feelings of yours and that something can still come out of it. But instead his heart shatters into a million pieces from your words. 
“Well, duh. I’m engaged.” You hold your hand out a little for him to take a look. He knew he was still in way too deep when he could only look at you the whole time and not even realize the diamond on your finger. 
“Wow, that’s great.” He’s happy for you, he is. But he hides his dejected spirit well with a fake smile, choosing to say something positive. 
“The wedding’s in May, I was supposed to send out invitations next month, but I guess you get an early invite.” You give him a beautiful smile that pierces his heart even further. 
“Wow.” 
“You’ve got a lot of ‘wows’ tonight.” You tease him. 
“No, I mean that’s good, congratulations.” 
You can hear the hesitancy in his voice, it’s barely there and you wonder if it’s really there in his voice. But you can hear it. 
“Yeah…” 
He can see your face fall a little and he feels a bit guilty that maybe you caught on to his slight mood. 
“Tell me about it.” 
“Really!” Your face lights up immediately, clapping your hands and he gives you a genuine smile as he nods. And so you tell him about all the arrangements, the flowers you want to have as you walk down the aisle, the flowers you’ll have to decorate the venue, the venue where you want it, the dress and on and on you went. You talk with him about things too that you haven’t gotten to tell him over the phone, such as your new job and how you had to move apartments a while back because almost half the building was about to fall apart. 
And he listens. Sharing bits and pieces of his own life that he hasn’t gotten the chance to tell you about. The two of you falling back into that friendship all those years ago, even when you too were pining over the other. 
“It’s getting late, you should head out now.” 
You turn to see the last of the employees leaving the shop. You hadn’t even realised that everyone had left and it was already past 10 p.m. 
“Oh, you’re right.” You get up from your seat and collect your scarf and purse. “I should get going.” 
You stand behind the chair you were previously sitting at as he looks at you, a gentle smile on his face. You look back at him and for a minute you mourn the friendship that you once shared in your youth and the love you could’ve shared. And you don’t notice that he’s trying his best to fight back tears, maybe the gloss on his eyes is from the long day of work. A soft smile graces your features, almost as if you’d already accepted reality. You have. 
“Bye, Samu.” 
He gives you a nod, the smile never leaving his face as the little bunny by the door rings and you disappear into the night once again. 
He wonders if he should call Atsumu, to help lighten up the situation as he slumps down to the floor, holding his head in his hand. 
And maybe for once he should’ve taken Atsumu’s advice, all those years ago. But he didn’t. He never gave you that letter that’s been sitting in his nightstand since he was 17, and the flowers he got you had wilted and died a week after he had bought them. He graduated and ended his 3rd year without telling you anything about how he felt. He thought that maybe he’d have the chance later, when he was more prepared, more to offer you. 
And as he watches you walk down the aisle months later, with cheers of happiness in the back, his brother beside him with slow claps. He could only feel himself regret every single choice in his life that led him to sitting in the audience instead of the one in the black suit walking by your side.
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A/n: I lowkey suck at writing the miyas’ accent, im sorry 💔
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Divider creds: @i-mmaculatus @hyuneskkami
© manhattanstrawberry please do not plagiarize or repost my work
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thegeminisage · 5 months ago
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victory: we cooked out a crazy stupid amount of food AND did not get rained on
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silkentine · 7 months ago
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Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤
Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️
I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.
Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).
Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).
Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)
Here are some closeups of Ace:
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Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.
I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.
Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).
Here are her close-ups:
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Plot notes for this AU:
For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!
Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰
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rosiereveries · 2 months ago
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Part three of CEO!John Price
Part one | Part two
CW : smut, oral sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, mating press, little power imbalance, reader is a female
After you read the note that John left for you on your table, you are left feeling quite nervous but also excited. You were prepared for this. When you were getting ready for work this morning, you put on your favorite underwear. Lacy pink panties and matching bra that made your tits look great. You put on a lot of perfume, the one John had bought for you. You wore your best outfit, and you felt sexy and confident. You wanted to impress John, yesterday took you by surprise, but now you were in charge. When the time for his lunch break came, you were ready, so when you went to his office you knew what you wanted. You wanted him.
You find John sitting behind his table, working on his laptop. He looks good, so fucking hot without even trying. When he realizes that it´s you, who just walked in, he immediately shuts up his laptop and his full attention is on you. “Suddenly my day just got a lot better” he says and walks to you.
He gently places his hand on your cheek, and he kisses you. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared yesterday. This one is soft and gentle, like now he has time to taste you properly. He takes his time kissing you. When you try to touch him more, he pulls away. “Not now sweetheart, we have plans don’t we”. John walks out of the office with you. His hand on your back walking you through the whole floor like you’re his wife and not his secretary.
You’re confused. You expected a quick sex in his office, just like yesterday, you expected him to just pull your skirt up and fuck you on the desk. But now he is taking you somewhere in his expensive car and you’re wondering what the hell is going on.
You don’t know how John is feels about dating. You always thought that he was the type who just had casual sex with different partners. Since you started working for him, he didn’t have a girlfriend, but you heard from your colleges that he enjoys a company of beautiful women. Sometimes the relationship lasts longer but mostly there were a few weeks hook ups.
You stop in front of some Italian restaurant. He opens your door for you and like a true gentleman he helps you to get out of the car. The restaurant is lovely, there are only a few people inside and it looks really cozy. After you order your food he asks about your day, how did you sleep and what are your plans for the evening. He acts like you’re on a normal date and not on a business lunch. “I can see that something is bothering you, you don’t like it here?” John asks you after he notices how out of the place you look.
You tell him that you don’t understand what is going on, why are you here and what are you doing. “Well, I know that you don’t go out for your lunch break, so I wanted to take my girl out, take care of you.” He says it is not a big deal. “Your girl?” you ask. “What did you thought that I’m just going to fuck you in my office, when I am will be bored? John asks and your face goes red. That is exactly what you thought he would do. “I take care of my partners. I want to spoil you. Since you started to work for me you have been such a good girl, making my life so much easier. Now it is my turn.” You’re left speechless.
After the lunch, he takes you back to the office. His hand is on your thigh while he drives and it’s making you insane. Yes, you do like that he took you out but you’re so horny. The whole morning you imagined what he would do to you, and you were excited. And now he is teasing you with his fingers lightly brushing over your skin and each time he goes higher and higher.
At one moment when John’s hand is almost all the way under your skirt you moan. He looks at you with a playfulness in his eyes. Now he is teasing you on purpose. He continues to drive while his hand is slowly making its way in your panties. “Fuck love, you’re soaked, you could tell me that you wanted me so much.” Gently he starts to circle your clit and you’re opening your legs more for him.
He slowly puts two of his fingers inside you and after a while he starts to move them. You’re almost at the office building when he makes a turn and starts to drive in a different direction. “Where are we going?” you ask. “I made a promise to you yesterday, haven’t I. Were not fucking in my car. I am taking you to my place, so we don’t have to worry about some of your colleagues catching us fucking. We would want Janice from finance to see how good you take my cock. Am I right?”
To be honest you don’t care if Janice saw you. You’re so close and you can feel your orgasm approaching. John still casually drives while his fucking your pussy with his fingers. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you’re desperate, you just need a little bit more and you know that he knows it too. “You will come on my face in a minute don’t worry” John says.
And he is right the drive to his house is short and you both quickly get out of the car. When the door to his house closes behind you, he is immediately on you. Kissing you passionately and lifting you up so your legs are wrapped on his hips. He walks with you up the stairs not letting you go.
 “Everything off, I want to see you” he says when he lays you on his bed. You’re quick with your clothes and now you lay before him in nothing but your panties. “Fucking beautiful, and I bet you taste even better than you look.” “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart, let me see you” he gently pulls your panties, and he shows his head between your thighs. You’re already so wet and when he finally starts to lick your pussy your gone. You arch your back, and you can hear him whisper fucking perfect for me.  
When his tongue finds you clit you’re gone. He looks up at you and you can see your wetness on his beard and it’s the hottest thing you have ever seen. He quickly brings you to your orgasm and as he promised you to come on his face. When you finally come down from your orgasm you can see him taking his shirt off. He unzips his pants and quickly takes them off. He is on you naked, and you can see his hard dick leaking precum.
“I want to see your face this time, I want to see how pretty you’re going to look when I make you come on my dick.” He slowly pushes in you. “You were made for me honey, youre going to be the death of me.” he growls, and he starts to move in you. John is a big man and the way his stretching you is amazing. You can feel him everywhere and you are full.
It’s completely different than the sex you had yesterday. This is slow, his thrusts are hard, but it’s not rushed like the last time. He plays with your nipples, and you can feel that your second orgasm is approaching. “I am going to cum” you tell him, and you can feel that he is close too. He pushes your legs to your chest in a mating press and you can feel him so much deeper. “I need to come in your sweet pussy, please sweetheart be a good girl and let me” he says and you just nod. His fingers start to rub your clit and your orgasm hits you. He follows shortly after you spilling his seed into you. When he pulls out of you, he pulls you to his chest and he holds you so tight. You just lay there and you on his chest and his hands holding you.
You don’t go back to work that day, you stay at his place the night and the next day he drives you to your apartment. He tries to convince you to take the rest of the week off, so he can enjoy your company, but you tell him that he is the boss, and he needs to work, and he can’t take a vacation just because he is horny.  You go to work and when you go to your desk you see a note there, just like yesterday. But this time it says: My office now! And loose your panties on the way.
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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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bananayuyu · 4 months ago
Text
Lust is in the Air
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Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
Read it on ao3
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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
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bettys-redwinesupernova · 2 months ago
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THE PRANK THAT BACKFIRED (sort of?)
drew starkey x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: reader and drew decide to play a prank on the obx cast for her youtube channel. they do the “asking to have another girl over” prank, which results in a very angry obx cast who are out to get drew😅
based on this ask !! i hope this is what you asked for @xoxosblogsblog !! i had so much fun writing this and it was ADORABLE, i hope you like it :)) <3
WARNINGS: pure tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst (not really), like one (?) curse word, insinuation of cheating (the prank), chase & rudy threaten to “throw hands” with drew lmao. (lmk if i missed anything!)
WORD COUNT: 1.25k
THIRD PERSON +
Y/N adjusted the camera, angling it perfectly to catch the cozy backdrop of the apartment she shared with Drew during her surprise visit to the set of Outer Banks season four.
The faint hum of laughter and chatter outside hinted at the cast heading out to grab food, giving her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.
"Hey, guys!" she began with a bright smile, wiggling her fingers to the camera. "Welcome back to my channel. Today, I've got something hilarious planned. You've seen those TikTok pranks where someone asks if they can bring another girl over while their partner's friends or family are listening, right? Well, I'm doing it today—with Drew."
She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've got the cast in on this. Well, not really in on it—they think I'm at a friend's place for the night, so this is going to be pure gold. Let's see how much they love me and how far they'll go to defend me from Drew's, um... betrayal."
She turned the camera to Drew, who sat beside her on the couch, half-smiling, half-shaking his head.
"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair. "They're going to kill me."
"Kill us, you mean," Y/N teased, poking his side. "But it'll be worth it. Trust me."
"Uh-huh," Drew replied, arching a skeptical eyebrow. "When JD and Rudy show up with pitchforks, you're taking the blame."
Y/N laughed, her grin widening as she leaned into him. "Oh, come on. You know they love me too much to actually hurt me. You, on the other hand..."
Drew sighed dramatically but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
A few minutes later, Y/N tucked herself behind the camera, keeping it trained on Drew. Drew pulled out his phone and dialed JD's number, putting the call on speaker. The phone rang twice before JD answered, his voice lively with the sounds of clinking plates and background chatter.
"Yo, Starkey!" JD greeted. "What's up, man?"
Drew exchanged a quick glance with Y/N before diving in. "Hey, would you guys mind if I invited someone over?"
The line went silent for a beat, then JD's confused voice came through. "Uh... sure? Who?"
"Just a friend," Drew said casually.
"Cool, yeah," JD replied, his tone nonchalant. In the background, Madelyn could be heard asking, "Who's he inviting over?"
"Oh, she's just someone I met recently," Drew added, making his voice as nonchalant as possible.
Madelyn's voice sharpened. "Wait, she? Did he say she?"
JD stammered for a moment, then said, "Uh, Drew, man, what are you talking about? You have Y/N—why are you inviting another girl over?"
"It's not that deep," Drew said smoothly, earning a wide-eyed stare from Y/N as she struggled to keep from bursting into laughter.
"Not that deep?" Madelyn's voice rose an octave. "Are you fucking insane? Y/N is literally the best thing that's ever happened to you. You're just going to, what, throw her away for some random girl?"
"Yeah, Drew, what the hell?" Rudy's voice chimed in. "Y/N's gonna find out, dude. She always finds out."
"She's not even here," Drew argued. "And I just want some alone time with this girl. Is that so bad?"
Madelyn's voice was nearly a shriek now. "YES, IT'S BAD! You're in a relationship, Drew! A really amazing one, with an incredible person who, by the way, loves you more than anything!"
"And we love her!" Carlacia added. "You're crazy if you think we're not calling her right now."
"Right?!" Chase's voice joined the chorus, sounding equally appalled. "Drew, what is wrong with you?"
JD sighed loudly. "Man, I'm so disappointed right now. Y/N's, like, the nicest, funniest person ever. She's practically family. I don't even know what to say to you."
Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, tears forming in her eyes from trying not to laugh. Drew, ever the actor, kept his tone neutral but shot her a playful glare.
"You guys are overreacting," Drew said, feigning exasperation. "I mean, Y/N doesn't have to know, right?"
The collective gasp from the group was loud enough to make Y/N choke on her laughter.
Madison started a rant so fierce it almost made Drew break. "First of all, how dare you? Second of all, Y/N deserves so much better than this! She's gorgeous, sweet, funny—literally the whole package! And you're just going to throw that away? For what?!"
"I can't believe you right now," Rudy chimed in. "If you're serious about this, I'm calling her. Like, right now."
"No, don't—" Drew began, but Y/N couldn't hold it in anymore.
Her laughter burst out like a dam breaking, echoing through the room. Drew immediately broke character, laughing along as he waved his hands at Y/N’s camera.
"Wait, wait!" Y/N called out, coming into view of her camera. "Guys, relax! It's a prank!"
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a cacophony of voices.
"Are you serious?!" Madelyn exclaimed. "You scared the crap out of us!"
"You both are the worst," JD groaned.
Rudy's laugh boomed through the speaker. "I was about to knock some sense into you, man."
Chase chimed in with mock indignation. "I was ready to drive back and throw hands, Drew!"
Y/N giggled, holding her stomach as she leaned against Drew. "I'm so sorry, but I couldn't resist! I saw it on TikTok and knew you guys would freak out. And you did not disappoint."
Madelyn groaned dramatically. "You two are so lucky we love you."
JD sighed. "I'm not speaking to you for a week."
"Okay, that's fair," Drew said with a grin.
Eventually, after more playful scolding and laughter, the group hung up, leaving Drew and Y/N alone again. Y/N turned off the camera, still giggling as she leaned back against the couch.
"That was amazing," she said, wiping tears from her eyes.
Drew shook his head, his expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You're lucky they love you. If it were just me, they'd probably disown me."
Y/N smiled, sliding closer to him. "Well, can you blame them? I mean, look at me. I'm kind of a big deal."
He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You really are. They adore you, you know that? It's one of the things I love most about us—how easily you fit into my world."
Her teasing smile softened as she gazed up at him. "It means a lot to me, too. They're like family. And so are you."
Drew leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're everything to me, Y/N. I hope you know that."
Her heart melted as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jawline. "I do. And you're everything to me, too."
They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The laughter, the teasing, the chaos—it all melted away, leaving just the two of them in their shared little world.
"You think they'll forgive us?" Drew asked after a moment.
Y/N smirked. "Oh, they'll forgive me. You, on the other hand..."
Drew groaned, burying his face in her shoulder as she laughed.
"Totally worth it," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.
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betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
this was so so adorable and so much fun to write !! i hope you all enjoyed, and please please please like and reblog, it means the world when you do <3
my asks are still open so please don’t hesitate to send any in !! i’m in the mood to write some angst, hurt/comfort if you have any requests for drew or rage <3
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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago
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Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Three
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Sorry for the delay. My motivation fled for a bit and exhaustion hit me hard right before thanksgiving. I had to buckle down and just finish this.
A/N: I really wanna answer all my ask, there’s some things in there that y’all have sent me that I want to do for an AU of this. There’s just so many ideas I wanna try.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Warnings: Yandere themes, possible non-con (I only say possible, because Reader was drunk when consenting), fem!reader, possible violence towards Jason, my own made up headcanons.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
When you told Stephanie you were going to find out the gender of your little bean, you weren’t exactly surprised she wanted to have a gender reveal party. Though you did talk her out of the party aspect. You loved your friends, but you hadn’t told them about your pregnancy. Mostly because you knew they’d either accidentally spill the beans about said bean to someone they shouldn’t or they’d freak out and pester you about the unknown father.
It’s a shame you can only faintly remember dark hair, loving touches, and the heat from that night. You’d like to at least thank the man for giving you such gift. Even if said gift was making you throw up nearly every morning, constantly tired, and craving the oddest things with heartburn to follow.
Overall, things were going.
That was it. Things where just going. You were still looking for an apartment, but you were getting sidetracked a bit by nurseries. You knew you would love your child regardless of what they are or who they are. But, the little swan lake nursery was precious and the air plane nursery was darling. Both made you cry and change your mind on apartments at least six times. Hormones did not help with house hunting.
But, the day came. You went to your ultrasound and had them put the gender in an envelop to give to Stephanie for her to plan your day. You had to fight yourself from peaking at the paper, but, still, you waited the three extra days until you would find out the big reveal.
Unfortunately, Jason fucking ruined it.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Jason had been poking around the fridge. It was common for him to dig around the manor for food when he was there. Bruce was rich and groceries were expensive. (If he was looking for some of the princess’s cooking? That was his business.) But, he spotted something that stood out from the usual expensive organic fruits and vegetables and occasional meat.
“Hey, Alfred. Why is there a small cake in the fridge?" He could tell from the packaging it was from some fancy bakery. Probably one on the shiny posh side of Gotham. Which meant it would either taste like overpriced shit or absolutely delectable.
"That would be the young Miss's. I believe Miss Brown purchased it as a surprise." Alfred had replied from where he was currently taking inventory of the pantry. Maintaining a well supplied stock of the after mission snacks to proper management after all. Still, he did eye Jason from where he stood with his note pad. Knowing that Jason had a slight habit of causing trouble.
"Those two have been really close lately." Jason muttered suspiciously, mentally debating on if the cake was worth it or not with Alfred watching him.
"Dick is right. You really are starting to sound like Bruce." Duke and Cassandra had been sitting at the counter. Duke, having just gotten off patrol, had been in the kitchen to refill his water. While Cass had been munching on some snacks that she had hidden from the rest of them.
"Can it, light bulb." Came Jason's snarky voice as he silently popped the lid on the much to fancy cake open and pulled it out of the fridge. Alfred to far across the kitchen to stop him. "You know… This is a pretty big cake…"
"Jason, no." Even Duke knew it was a bad idea. If you had just gotten bold enough to through tubberware at Jason, God only knew what you might do if he ate a gift you'd been given. Plus, Steph would be on everyone’s ass for it. She was stingy with her money and everyone could tell she splurged for that cake.
"I would advise against that, Master Jason. Miss Brown already informed the young Miss of the cake and I believe that they wanted to have the first slices when they got back from their outing." Alfred knew you would happily share the cake, but, while he wanted to defend your sugary gift, he knew that that cake had a secret and for once Alfred couldn't restrain himself from wanting to be the first to discover it.
That drew both Cassandra and Duke's attentions away from the crime that was about to be committed. Both curious. The two of you really had gotten close. Cass only slightly tilted her head in curiosity while Duke had been the one to speak.
"Oh, they went out?"
"For pedicures, I was told. They are due to arrive back here shortly. "
"Well, if you wait, they might- Jason! Seriously?!" Duke had looked back to watch Jason slice into the cake with a spare butter-knife. Thankfully with enough finesse to not completely ruin your cake.
"What? The princess can share her damn cake-" He defends himself, about to grab a fork when he notices Cass looking directly at Alfred. "Why are you looking at Alfred like that?"
When she says nothing, Duke and Jason look at the tearful expression of Alfred's face. "Alfie, what's wrong?"
It takes a moment for them to realize that those aren't tears of anger or sadness as Alfred tries to compose himself. It takes Duke a few seconds longer to look at the slice of cake to connect the dots with a swiftness that would put Tim's title as second greatest detective to shame.
However, the only words that stumble out of his mouth in his shock are, "Jason, that cake is blue."
"Yeah, I know. Which is weird, but it taste great. Steph picked something really fancy for princess’s taste." Jason says finally taking a bite. It was good, Steph picked a good bakery. Not as good as Princess's homemade goods, but good enough.
"NO! Jason, why would a cake be blue?" The realization of what exactly Jason just ruined filled Duke with panic. This was going to be so much worse than the tubberware if he was right. So much worse.
Even Cass was a bit confused about the massive deal with the cake. She was more interested in the joy she was reading off of Alfred since that cake had been cut. She'd never seen the man so giddy, despite the only sign of any change in him was the misty look in his eyes.
"I don't know- Oh, great. The princess has returned." The sound of excited footsteps were heard heading towards the kitchen while Duke looked at Jason with anxiousness. Even Alfred seemed to brace himself.
As soon as you and Stephanie walked in the smiles dropped from your faces.
"Jason…. Tell me you didn't…" Stephanie murmured as she glared as Jason. Inwardly, she was excited. She had guessed correctly and won her own personal bet with herself. But, she comfortingly put a hand on your arm as you stared at the blue cake you didn’t get to cut.
Just from your expression, Duke can tell he might have been right and starts looking at Jason with an expression that screams, ‘Plead for mercy, you idiot.’
Alfred, thankfully, had enough sense to come out of his joy the moment he watches you walk up to the counter and look down at the cake with a despondent expression. His words comforting as he tries to ease the budding tension. “I'm so sorry, young miss. But, on the bright side-"
"Oh, come on, princess. You and Steph weren’t going to be able eat it all. You can afford to share. Besides, you’ve been looking a little pudgy lately anyway. Really need to stop acting like you’re eating for two."
Everyone looks directly at Jason in horror at what he just said. Seeing the spark of rage in your eyes makes Alfred take a step back in caution and Cassandra warns an aghast Duke of what she sees about to go down.
“Duke, duck.”
“Where?” He says in terrified confusion before suddenly your cake is slammed directly into Jason’s face with your hands coated in frosting.
"OH SHIT!”
"MISS!"
"Are you fucking crazy?" Jason stumbles back from the velocity of the cake to his face while he tries to wipe the buttercream from his eyes as you start berating him. Throwing everything in reaching distance at him. The bowl of fruit on the counter, the snacks Cass had been eating, even a pot from the stove.
"You ruined it! You ruined it! Alfred, where's the cast iron? I'm about to knock the dumbass outta him.” You start looking for something heavy, moving to dig through the cabinets with sugary fingers that are shaking with anger.
“About time someone did…” Stephanie mutters while she hides behind the counter to hide from the onslaught.
Before you can complete your search, Jason reveals just how well he preforms under pressure. Realizing a little too late what he might have just right when your hands find the cast iron skillet and your taking a swing at him.
"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry!" He barely dodged the hit with the sudden click of the information settling into his brain.
"You about to be sorry! This is the last straw, asshole. You fuckin' ruined it." You go to take another swing at him, nearly slipping in some frosting.
Jason’s eyes go wide before he risk a skillet to the face to catch you.
"You're right! I- Put that down, you're going to hurt yourself." He struggles to pull the pan from your sticky grip, not wanting to hurt you. This isn’t something he imagined having to use all his skills and talents for, but he thanks fuck he has them.
"Don't you tell me what to fuckin' do." You snarl while trying to hit him in the throat with your fist, causing him to almost let you slip.
"Jason!" Duke shouts out, knowing how bad it’ll be if you fall.
Jason tightens his grasp on you to the point your practically immobile, trying to calm you down with apologies and a panicked tone.
"Look, I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"
"That doesn't excuse you acting like a dick." You hiss, causing him to go silent as he tries to figure out how to fix this situation.
"You're right. It doesn't. But…" he trails off, leading to an awkward moment of silence
"Dude, you suck at this." Duke says before popping his head over the counter now that the cake and kitchen utensils have ceased to be airborne. Stephanie popping up next to him to give Jason an icy glare of her own while Cass stares at her ruined snacks. Alfred sighing as he runs the bridge of his nose from the similarities between old memories and the current scenario in the kitchen.
"Shut up, twinkle twinkle." He snarls before looking down a very pissed and most likely very pregnant you with a wince. "I… I know I'm a jackass."
"Astute observation, Master Jason." Alfred mutters while he behind to search for some cleaning supplies for the buttercream incident.
"Damn, Alfred's roasting you." Duke quickly shuts up when Jason gives him a lethal glare despite your futile attempts a wiggling out of his grasp. "Shutting up now."
Eventually you stop struggling, heaving in exhaustion and pitifully fighting back tears at your ruined gender reveal.
"I… Shouldn't be acting like a such an asshole. To you, specifically. You don't deserve that and I'm sorry." Jason tries as soon as he sees your lower lip start to wobble. He knows he’s prickly, but this is a new low that he’s not proud of.
"Now, you wanna apologize?" You’re honestly too emotional to deal with this. But, it’s the fact that he’s actually trying to give a meaningful apology when hardly anyone else does that makes you listen. Even if you’re mentally tearing him to shreds with your teary eyes.
"Yes. Now, I want to apologize." He sighs, putting you down. It’s quite a sit. Him not only apologizing, but him also doing it covered in white frosting and blue cake crumbs. "I'm… I'm not going to give you a bunch of excuses. I'm a jerk. But, I'm not heartless. I took this too far."
"You took it too far when you ate my frickin' fried cornbread." Comes your deadpan tone as you cross your arms. The fabric of your hoodie moving slightly to reveal the faintest of baby bumps.
"You're still mad about- You know what, fair enough. Don't eat the pregnant chick's food. Lesson learned." He starts to say exasperatedly before changing course at your stare and realizing he needed to suck it up.
“But, in my defense, it was really good.” He pipes off quickly, as an appeasing compliment.
Judging from the way your eyes further narrow and the reigning silence, he can tell he missed the mark.
Instead he tries to change course.
"Listen, I know this won't make up for it, but… I did see some vintage baby stuff in the attic when I snooped up there once."
"Oh, you found Master Bruce's old thing." Alfred exclaims with slightly raised brows. Coming back with Clorox wipes and all sorts of other supplies for the mess you had made. (He blames Jason, however. Don’t fret, dear one.)
"Wait, pause. Did you say those were Bruce's old baby clothes?"
"Yes, Master Jason.”
“I thought those were little girl’s baby dress. They looked like something a goth Victorian child mixed with a pilgrim would wear."
“I assure you they are Master Bruce’s.”
Everyone suddenly has a collective thought and a mighty need. Cake forgotten momentarily.
"Alfred, are there pictures of him in those clothes?" You ask with barely contained mischief, all anger and sadness gone as delight fills you. Mood swings could be such a blessing and a curse.
“Why, I do believe so.” There was a hint of knowing in Alfred's tone. One that also was finding delight in the idea he knew was passing through everyone's minds.
Immediately, and with renewed vigor, your head whips to Jason.
"Help me find the pictures and get me some Jokerized fries-."
"And, throw in a foot massage." Stephanie adds before you can finish. The suggestion causing Jason's eyes to widen while Duke shudders.
"What?!"
“Eww.”
"I kinda don't want him touching my feet. Too weird." You say. Even if they do ache often your not sure you really want the guy who had made your life hell before touching you so much. Even if he was apologetic.
“Oh, thank god.” He mutters under his breath before Stephanie speaks up again.
"Then let me have one. I bought the cake and I was looking forward to it. I had to fight the temptation not to spoil the surprise."
"I feel like that was a pun." Duke mutters.
"It wasn't."
A lighter tone settles over the kitchen as Alfred starts to clean. You tried to help, feeling embarrassment at having made such a mess. But, everyone else had stepped in to pick up the slack on account for your condition as Duke called it.
"Did you ever figure it out, Cass?" You asked curiously as you sat at the counter. A bit surprised that she hadn't disappeared as soon as the whole things had started. You both had always been cordial with each other. However, you knew she preferred to be alone at times. Hence, your lack of interaction. You had assumed she would have fled by now.
"Thought you had a stomach bug. Not a baby. This is better." Comes her short response. There's a subtle hint of wonder on her face. She's gotten better at sharing her feelings with other's so it's nice to see such an expression.
"Am I the only one terrified of how calm she is after she just threw an entire cake at Jason and was about to cast iron him?" Duke says while he finishes wiping the frosting from the skillet you had wielded earlier. The question causes Alfred to chuckle when you give Duke a narrowed look yourself.
"I remember Miss Martha throwing a chair at Master Thomas when she was pregnant with Master Bruce, so this, I dare say, is quite tame."
That comment makes more than a few eyebrows to raise and Jason to let out a whistle, while also realizing that is could've been worse for him in the long run.
"Why'd she do that?"
"Bruce decided to grace the world with his presence in the middle of the night."
"Ha!"
"I always knew he had been more in the dark."
Snickers could be heard before Alfred continued to explain. It was rare he got to share such stories.
"And, Thomas made the foolish mistake of asking her if she could hold Bruce in until a more reasonable hour."
"Alfred, he was a doctor." Stephanie points out.
"In his defense. Neither had slept for that entire week from the anticipation of Master Bruce’s arrival. But, really should have kept quiet on the matter. We would still have that lovely cherry wood chair if he had."
A round of laughter could be heard. You had laughed so hard that there were tears in your eyes as you giggled your way up to the attic.
Things had been ruined, but things had gotten better. If only they could stay better.
Down in the Batcave, Tim had gotten a message in between a few of the cases he was currently working on.
"Jon and I will stop by tomorrow, my dude." He read while taking a sip of this third energy drink for that afternoon. He only nodded in acknowledgment before going back to his work.
Elsewhere, on the Kent family farm, Conner grinned excitedly at his phone before tucking it away and stretching. He'd be seeing his favorite person tomorrow. Hopefully when they saw him they'd remember the best night of their life. It was definitely his.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: As funny it would be to have Conner just be a sweet goof, I want him to be yandere for this. I struggled to include that last part to show it, but hopefully it works.
A/N: Also, this is the calm before the storm. I kinda wanna try to make it angsty next chapter. And, not gonna lie, it might be brutal. But, I wanna challenge myself so when I make an AU I can do a good job on it.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! I had been planning on a girl for Reader, so I was a bit surprised. Might save that for the AU. Time to name pick, and if y’all want y’all can suggest nurseries. Can’t guarantee we’ll do polls for them, but it’ll still be fun.
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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago
Text
Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 3
(Rafe Cameron x reader, series, 5.7k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
additional chapter cw: suggestive language/themes, heavy drinking, mature readers only please
⇢ series masterlist
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The game was on, and Carter wasn’t one to go down without a fight.
You however, were much less invested in her scheme to set you up with Tom, already feeling tired and confused after 24-hours of this little reunion trip. You laid in bed for quite a while replaying the almost-moment you’d had with Rafe in the kitchen in your head before taking a long, dreamless nap. It was the smell of the barbeque wafting through your bedroom window that woke you up. You threw your hair up in a bun, too groggy to care about putting any more effort into your appearance.
As you reached for the handle, you heard two hushed voices arguing behind your bedroom door. You opened it slowly to reveal Carter and Topper facing each other, both with their arms crossed as they carried on a heated whisper-argument.
“What are you even doing up here Topper?” Carter demanded.
“I don’t know, what are you doing up here Carter? Trying to get a leg up?” Topper snapped back, towering over her in height yet still somehow looking small under her glare.
They were so locked in on each other that neither of them had even noticed your appearance.
“Um, hi,” you waved your hand between their faces to get their attention. “Can I help you?”
They looked at you, startled as their arms fell and stances softened. Carter eyed your outfit up and down, trying to hide her distaste at your choice of leggings and a t-shirt.
“Well, I don’t know what he’s doing up here but I came to see if you needed help getting ready,” Carter replied.
“I am ready,” you said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“You’re, uh,” Topper scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
You squinted at him, you could understand Carter critiquing your outfit, knowing she was trying to set you up with Tom, but what stake did Topper have in your outfit choice?
“We’re literally just going downstairs,” you countered.
“Maybe throw on something a little nicer,” Carter urged gently.
“Okay, fine,” you gave in. “You two are being so weird today.”
Topper gave you a thumbs up as you closed the door in their faces.
A few minutes later you reemerged in a new outfit, a crocheted halter top and some cut-offs. You had let your hair down and ran a brush through it, dabbed on some mascara and lipgloss. It was the maximum amount of effort you were willing to put into a big night out in the backyard.
Despite everyone’s relentless teasing, Topper actually was a pretty good cook. The food was great and everyone thanked you, Rafe, and Tom for going out to get it.
“Tom paid!” you announced. “So everyone make sure to be really nice to him or he won’t bankroll us anymore.”
You smiled at Tom, who grinned back and waved you off in joking modesty. You let your eyes linger as he leaned over the firepit on the other side of the sprawling patio, skillfully stacking the wood before lighting a match and holding it under. He crouched low to blow gently on the kindling, causing the fire to roar to life. You could see a sliver of his toned lower back peeking out from his shirt as he reached for another log, dropping it straight into his newly sparked flame with a bare hand. The whole thing was unbelievably attractive.
The only thing better was the stoney look on Rafe’s face when you caught his eye, realizing he’d noticed the way you were looking at Tom like you wanted to have him for dessert. Good. 
Playing and replaying the scene from the kitchen in your head all afternoon, you came downstairs determined to freeze Rafe out. Sure, he remembered your favorite candy and maybe almost even apologized, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sting you felt when he pulled away from you like you had the plague as soon as anyone else entered the room.
After dinner, you were perched on the railing of the porch, sipping something strong and chatting with Carter and her childhood best friend, Maddie.
Maddie was nice enough, the Kook academy prom queen two years in a row, but she had never shown much interest in you. Until you showed up here looking much more instagram-worthy than you had in high school.
“So, omg,” Maddie started, playing with a strand of your hair like you were the closest of friends. “When are you gonna drop the workout routine? You look gorg.”
Never once had one of Carter’s friends complimented your looks. 
“Thanks,” you grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I play a lot of volleyball and jog a little.”
“Well it’s working!” Kelce hollered from across the porch, already wobbling slightly from his inebriation.
There it was again, your blush, always showing up at the least opportune times. All eyes were on you, such open talk about your body making your skin crawl with self-consciousness. You looked over the railing to the sand a few feet down, wondering how badly the jump would hurt.
As always, knowing you better than anyone, Carter felt like she could read your mind. Protectiveness roared in her chest, she set her hand over yours to silently tell you she understood before turning to the party and announcing, “okay, we’re playing a game! Everyone around the fire pit!”
No one argued with her wishes, they never did. The group gathered around the bonfire, each with a full drink in hand as Carter unnecessarily explained the rules to never have I ever as if this same group hadn’t played it a hundred times in high school. 
You appreciated Carter moving the attention off of you, but clearly she didn’t know this was your least favorite game in the world. The second the name of the game came out of her mouth, your heart dropped to your stomach, hit with memories of sitting off to the side while her friends played, all of your fingers embarrassingly still up, revealing you had done nothing interesting or scandalous in your life.
Sure, you’d definitely added a few notches to your belt since then, but you knew these people and had no doubt you were still way behind. The sad thing is you didn’t even care, but you knew they would and you couldn’t help that nagging desire to prove that you were just as cool as them. You sighed as you settled in your chair next to Carter, frustrated that just as you were starting to feel somewhat normal, you were transported right back to your loneliest days.
Carter went first, “never have I everrr…shoplifted.”
Sabrina took a giggly sip from her solo cup.
“Isn’t your dad’s networth like a billion dollars?” Kelce asked.
“Yes, but he never would’ve bought me those red panties, so I took ‘em,” she winked at him, and he scooted his chair closer to her.
Everyone else still had all ten fingers up, making you think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
But your relief didn’t last long. One by one they went around the circle, revealing each other’s secrets and leaving you with ten fingers up.
“Never have I ever done a body shot.” Your fingers stayed up.
“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Your fingers stayed up.
“Never have I ever hooked up in a public place.” Your fingers stayed up. 
As the group got tipsier, the revelations got dirtier. You were sure some of them were lying and there was some temptation for you to put a finger down as a lie too just to level the playing field, but that was such teenage bullshit. You might not have as a high of a body count as some of them, but you still had your pride. 
The blood rushed from you face when Maddie said, “never have I ever been with two people at once” and Rafe put his last finger down, smirking as he finished off his beer.
A few more rounds passed and everyone else had put at least a couple fingers down while you still hadn’t done a single one of the things listed. You chewed on your lip, wondering how early was too early to excuse yourself to go to bed.
You were about to make a break for it, when a now sloppily drunk Sabrina pointed at you and slurred, “aww bambi’s still got ten!”
Bambi was another one of the many teasing nicknames they’d called you in high school, and it might just be your least favorite. 
“You’re still such a good girl,” Sabrina jibed. 
She must’ve been beyond wasted. She wasn’t necessarily nice, but she wasn’t usually this much of a bitch.
Your breaths got short, the anxiety erupting like fireworks in your chest. You could feel Carter’s mind spinning next to you, trying to come up with some way to defend you, but another voice beat her to it.
“Well,” Rafe said, drawing all eyes off of you and across the firepit towards him. “Never have I ever gotten so crossfaded at a boneyard party that I pissed my pants in someone else’s truck.”
He shot Sabrina a vindictive smile.
“Rafe!” She protested. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 
At her admission, everyone broke out into laughter, aimed at her.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Rafe chuckled, “you just did.”
“Bruhh,” Kelce hollered. “That’s nasty!”
Sabrina went red, completely humiliated. You tried to be a girl’s girl, but after years of her teasing and making you feel like a loser, you couldn’t help but join in the laughter at her expense. 
As she emptied her cup spitefully, you caught Rafe’s gaze across the fire, the air between you wavy with the flame’s heat. He smiled a crooked, satisfied smile at you, and you mouthed “thank you.” He gave you a reassuring wink and your stomach did cartwheels. 
Carter straightened in her lawn chair next to you, kicking herself for giving Rafe the chance to save you before she could.
“I’ve got one!” she announced, and the crowd hushed to hear their queen. “Never have I ever skinny dipped in the campus fountain and got caught by campus security but successfully flirted my way out of a citation and ended up getting the cop’s number.”
Everyone looked around the circle quizzically, wondering who that incredibly specific anecdote was aimed at.
“No fucking way!” Topper shouted when he saw you put down your pinky finger with a bashful smile.
Topper and Kelce whooped, and the girls all gave you impressed looks.
“Okay baddie!” Maddie gasped. “Was he cute? Did you call him?”
“I mean he wasn’t not cute,” you mused, taking the obligatory sip of your drink. “We hung out a few times.”
“So does that mean you’re into handcuffs now orrr…” Kelce chimed in.
“Oops, I put the wrong fingers down,” you lifted your hand and theatrically put all down except your middle finger, aiming it at Kelce.
The crowd erupted with laughs and amused ohhhh’s. Even Rafe was smiling, and you couldn’t help but wish you knew what he was thinking, noticing his soft eyes on you as you bantered with his friends, all attention on you. This time, you weren’t blushing, you were just enjoying yourself. It felt so nice to have such a naturally fun and easy moment, but it was short lived.
“Never have I ever,” Sabrina interrupted, hiccuping. “Failed an entire semester of college.”
The crowd fell silent once again, no one daring to bring their eyes to Rafe, the clear target of her comeback. He just rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, like it didn’t bother him at all. But you could see the hint of shame in his eyes, a rare glimpse of vulnerability hidden under his tough facade. You used to spend so much of your time digging for those deeper layers that it was easy for you to pick up on them when they rose to the surface, even if it was just for a second.
Maybe you should let him flounder, leave him hanging like he’d done to you so many times before. But tonight, for the first time ever, he had jumped in to defend you, and maybe one act of kindness wouldn’t kill you.
“Fuck this game. Topper, didn’t you say something earlier about a beer pong tournament?” You prompted him, hoping desperately he’d see what you were trying to do and play along.
Topper looked confused at first, so you smiled tightly and flicked your eyes to Rafe and back as quickly as possible, urging him to understand.
Ever the king of subtlety, Topper’s eyes went wide as he mouthed “ohhhh!” 
Rafe saw the whole thing.
“Beer pong! Yes!” Topper said, excited to finally be in the loop. “Let’s do it!”
“I wanna play!” Sabrina stood quickly from her chair, immediately tripping over her own feet.
“Woah,” Carter caught her and held her up with some effort, Sabrina so far gone she couldn’t even use her legs. “I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.”
Carter stabilized Sabrina and guided her towards the house. You knew she was pissed at Sabrina for picking on you, but Carter would never leave a drunk girl to stumble around a party by herself. She looked at you apologetically, but you nodded to let her know you were fine.
After they disappeared into the house, Topper and Kelce got to work clearing the long outdoor dining table for beer pong, filling cups and placing them with great attention to detail. You chuckled at the way they were arguing over correct cup spacing and fill levels as you reached down into the cooler for another drink. When you stood, Tom appeared by your side.
“I didn’t realize I was sharing a house with a criminal,” he drawled, mouth quirked with a crooked smile.
“Oh yeah,” you played along, popping the top of your drink. “I’m wanted in four states and Puerto Rico.”
“And Puerto Rico, wow,” he leaned his arm against the porch rail, his body angling towards yours in a way that made your skin prick with goosebumps. “I need to hear that story.”
“I’d tell you,” you lowered your voice and lifted your mouth towards his ear to whisper. “But then I’d have to kill you.”
“You’re in that deep, huh?” He placed his other hand on the railing on the other side of you, effectively caging you in, though he held himself back far enough to give you some space. You didn’t want space, though, the enticing scent of whiskey and the smoke from the fire drawing you to him.
“Mhm,” you leaned in so your chests were almost touching, a smile tugging his full lips when he noticed the way you intentionally closed the space between you. “If you thought the campus fountain story was bad…”
“I didn’t think it was bad,” he shook his head.
“No?” You grinned, eager to see where he was going with this.
“Not bad, kind of hot, but not bad,” he confessed.
“Only kind of?” You furrowed your brow in mock offense.
He broke into a smile and blushed, flustered as he said, “I mean, uh…”
You giggled. His bashful, dimpled smile was so painfully cute you were suddenly seeing the value to Carter’s matchmaking plan.
The alcohol in your system mixed with the warmth radiating off of him made your body go hot, tingles shooting up your spine as his eyes fell to your lips. He was so damn pretty. Warm brown eyes and messy hair you wanted to tangle your fingers in.
Rafe grabbed the fire poker and busied himself by tending to the flames, which didn’t really need it, considering Tom had built such a sturdy fire. The sound of your sweet giggles floating through the air as you flirted with Tom made him want to walk straight off the porch and into the ocean. He’d surely put his lifelong friendship with Sabrina on the line, not to mention his own pride, to keep you from running away in embarrassment, and now Tom was reaping the rewards of his chivalry. 
He remembered, though. Maybe you didn’t think he did, but he remembered. The nights you sat in the corner, lonely, pining, and the go-to butt of his friends’ stupid jokes. And he’d just sat by and let it happen, so many times. It’s no wonder you were leaned up against someone else, sharing stories about a whole chapter of your life he’d missed. He only had himself to blame.
Once the table was set up, Topper turned and frowned at the way the group had split, you and Tom cozy in the corner while Rafe stood by the fire alone, shoulders tense. He needed to step up his Cupid game, like, now.
He clapped his hands loudly, voice booming as he announced to the party that it was time to play. The startling sound forced Tom away from you just as you were about to ask him if he wanted to walk down to the water. Topper pointed right at you and pronounced you would be on his team. You were going to protest before you remembered beer pong was your idea in the first place, your ruse to protect Rafe. You couldn’t back out now.
Beer pong was another thing you’d added to your skill set in college. In high school, you were never asked to join when parties inevitably broke into a tournament. Instead you’d sit quietly and watch with hearts in your eyes as Rafe played with the competitiveness of an Olympian in a gold medal race.
He was known for his terrible sportsmanship, everyone expected a full tantrum if he didn’t win. The same went for school sports, you’d spent every night after a rare loss up on the phone with him listening intently while he ranted about all the ways the refs were wrong or the umps were blind. At the time, you took it as an honor that you were the one he wanted to find solace in. Now, grown and mature, you saw it for what it really was; no one else wanted to listen to him bitch and moan, so you were just his only option.
“Let’s go, Little Carter!” Topper raised his hand for a high five as you approached the table.
“If you call me that, I’m not playing,” you left him hanging.
“My bad, my bad,�� he conceded.
You gave in and high fived him, stepping up to the table with your game face on. Kelce and Maddie stood across from you. They were both terrible shots, and you sunk every ball, but Topper was keeping them in the game with his many misses. 
Topper was great at beer pong in high school and you were sure he’d had plenty of practice at U of F, so there was no reason he should be playing so horribly.
“Dude, what the hell is up with you?” You scolded him after another throw that was way off.
“I dunno,” Topper said with an exaggerated drunken slur in his voice. “I think I’m just too wasted to play. You might need another partner.”
Before you could mock him for his dramatics, he had called over to Rafe, who was sitting back in a lounge chair looking at his phone, anything to keep his eyes off of you.
“What?” He grumbled, eyes lifting from his screen and avoiding yours.
“Need you to sub in for me,” Topper fake hiccupped and you rolled your eyes.
You were sure Rafe would see you were his proposed partner and pass on the opportunity, but then he and Topper had some kind of silent conversation with their eyes that you couldn’t interpret, and Rafe stood from his chair.
“You don’t have to,” you offered as he stepped up and took the ball from Topper.
You hated that your instinct was to apologize for inconveniencing him. He shrugged and lined up his first shot.
“Someone’s gotta show ‘em how it’s done,” he said with an easy grin that made your heart beat a little faster. 
If only your younger self could see how your night was progressing. Impressing everyone during never have I ever. Flirting with a gorgeous boy from another school. And now, Rafe smiling at you and acknowledging your presence in front of all these people, willingly agreeing to be your teammate. She’d have died and gone to heaven.
He had every right to be cocky; he was really good. And to his great surprise, so were you. You and Rafe made quick work of Kelce and Maddie, then Kelce and Jack, then Kelce and three more partners that tried to step up to the plate, Kelce’s aim worsening as he teetered on the edge of a blackout.
“When did you get so good at this?” Rafe asked you after a partcualrly skillful shot.
“I was always good at it,” you scoffed. “You just never let me play.”
After that comment, Rafe was suddenly an extra encouraging teammate. Before each shot he’d pull you back, leaning down to whisper in your ear conspiratorially about which cup you should call, like an NFL coach rallying his quarterback.
“I can’t hit the far corner, my aim isn’t that good,” you said when he proposed the risky shot. 
Self-doubt filled your face as you bit your lip, Rafe recognizing the nervous tick instantly.
“Nah you got it!” he grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you playfully. “You just gotta believe in yourself.” 
Despite yourself, you broke into a smile, making a feeble attempt to brush him away, though he could tell you didn’t mean it.
“Let’s go slugger,” Rafe placed the ball in your hand and guided you into position by your shoulders. He stood behind you and leaned in to bring his mouth close to your ear. “You got this.”
You loved it. You hated it. Your head swirled with conflicting thoughts, but when you sunk the ball with a flick of your wrist, they all faded.
“Let’s fucking gooo!” Rafe yelled.
He lifted his hand for a double high five and you stood on your tiptoes to reach. Your arms came down, but your hands were still in his.
“Told ‘ya,” he said tenderly, smiling down at you as his large hands enveloped yours. “You just gotta believe in yourself.”
Despite the alarms blaring in your head, telling you to run, you let it all linger. The deep sound of his voice in the air, his eyes on your lips, his rough hands folded in yours.
“Okay!” Carter chose that minute to emerge from the house after Sabrina finally fell asleep. “That’s enough wins for y’all, time for some real competition.”
The sound of her voice snapped you out of the moment, and you pulled your hands away from Rafe quickly, nervous about all the eyes on you for the first time since you’d started playing.
“I need a partner,” Carter said, surveying the group on the patio. “How about…”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where she was going with this show and wishing she’d just fast forward to the end.
“Tom?” She raised her eyebrows in his direction, as if it was a crazy idea she had just come up with. “Do you play?”
“I may have taken part in a tourney or two,” Tom said humbly.
“Bullshit,” Kelce exclaimed, slumped in a chair as his head spun. “This guy was the Alpha Tau champion all four years. He’s got a plaque and everything.”
“Damn, I didn’t know we had Alpha Tau royalty in our midst!” Carter bantered.
“Jesus, enough with the fanfare, are you playing or not, dude?” Rafe snapped.
Carter eyed you, her lips twisted in a satisfied smirk. No one was surprised at Rafe’ gruffness, more than used to his competitive mean streak. It was not one of his more attractive qualities. The pull you’d just felt to him faltered a little at the reminder of this particular weakness. You were sure that’s exactly what Carter was hoping for.
“Alright I’m in,” Tom said, stepping up to the table and rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya.” He winked at you.
“Yeah, yeah, just call your shot, champ,” Rafe said.
The four of you reset the cups, not much work needing to be done on you and Rafe’s side of the table since almost no one had scored on you. As Tom lined up his first shot, he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, adjusting and readjusting his stance to get comfortable.
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest mumbling something along the lines of “this fuckin’ guy” and you couldn’t help but smile, admittedly also kind of getting the ick from how seriously Tom was taking this. 
Then he sunk every ball. After a few particularly good rounds, he made his third shot in a row, and Carter called “fire.” She handed him balls one after another like he was taking free throws, wiggling her eyebrows at you to make sure you were paying attention to his triumph.
You drank each cup obediently, ever the rule follower. After your fourth, you were getting so sick of the stale beer, you and Rafe’s cups had been sitting untouched all night and the cheap hops had soured significantly. When Tom sunk another one you grabbed the cup hesitantly, queasy, nearly gagging.
“It’s okay, I got it,” Rafe volunteered, grabbing the cup from you.
“Y’all don’t have to drink those if they’re really that bad,” Tom offered, pausing his next shot when he noticed how disgusted you looked.
“I got it, man,” Rafe waved him off, holding his nose and shooting back the beer as quickly as possible. He dropped the empty cup with a grimace.
“We can just call it a game,” Tom suggested, clearly feeling bad.
“Do you want to forfeit?” You asked Rafe, dropping your voice so Carter and Tom couldn’t hear.
“What and just wave the white flag?” Rafe replied, eyebrows raised. “Do you?
Your lips spread in a slow smile, “not a fucking chance.”
“Atta girl,” he nodded, returning his gaze to Tom. “We’re no quitters, hit us again big guy.”
And he did, over and over, until there was only one cup left on your side of the table. As he prepped for his final shot, Rafe turned to you, a playful, tipsy smile on his face.
“We had a good run,” He said, reaching out shake your hand. You took it with a smile.
When Tom and Carter won, high fiving each other in a loud celebration, all eyes fell to Rafe, waiting to see how he’d react to losing. You tensed, hoping his chipper attitude when you were winning would carry over into a graceful loss. But then he rounded the table, striding towards Tom, and you cringed in anticipation of a classic Rafe Cameron Temper Tantrum.
“Oh boy,” Carter mumbled under her breath. “Here we go.”
But there was no blow up, just Rafe extending his hand to Tom, who took it with a friendly shake.
“Good game, man,” Rafe said. 
“Yeah, you too, dude,” Tom smiled, not realizing this show of sportsmanship was a historical first.
Rafe tilted his head in a friendly nod towards your sister, “Carter.”
“Rafael,” she returned his sarcastic tone, purposefully using his least favorite nickname.
With that, Rafe walked away from the table, one last glance towards you as he returned to his seat by the fire. You watched him go, feeling sad not that you had lost, but that your fun night with Rafe had seemingly come to an end.
It was dizzying, your ever-changing emotional state, and you suspected it had very little to do with the beer. Thinking over all the events of the day gave you whiplash. One second you were about ready to ask Tom if he wanted to come back to your room, the next it felt like you and Rafe were finally sharing the moment you’d dreamt of for years. All the while, you weren’t sure you actually wanted either of them, or if you even wanted to be here at all.
“Wanna play again?” Carter asked, noticing the distracted look on your face.
“I’m good,” you smiled at her appreciatively, deciding you’d had enough excitement for one day. “I think I’m probably just going to bed now.”
“Aww, but it’s so early grandma,” Topper called over to you from the firepit.
You walked over to his chair and peched on the armrest.
 “Ah yes, another one of my favorite nicknames,” you joked. “No one’s called me that in four years.”
“Another inside joke?” Tom inquired, joining the circle, he and Carter each grabbing a chair.
“In high school, she was always the first to leave parties. She’d rather be at home in bed with a book by 9pm,” Topper explained to him.
You rose from his chair, eager to ditch this little trip down memory lane before it got too embarrassing. You almost made a clean escape, but then a very drunk Kelce decided to chime in.
“Unless Rafe asked her to stay,” he laughed. “Then she’d be there allll night.”
Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’ve been embarrassed a thousand times in your life, but this was something different. You looked down at your feet, not sure what you were supposed to do. No quick, face saving remark was coming to mind.
Carter smacked Kelce on the arm, while Topper shook his head with a disapproving, “dude…” 
Your eyes drifted to Rafe, who was looking down at his hands uncomfortably. Whatever protective instinct that had inspired him to stand up for you earlier was clearly gone as he left you to drown in the painfully awkward silence.
“Oh, were you two…?” Tom asked, pointing between you and Rafe quizzically.
“Nope,” you told him with a stiff smile.
He looked like he was about to ask more, but caught on at the last second, reading in between the lines. There it was, the last person here who didn’t know about your pathetic past was now caught up to speed. Yeah, you’d definitely had enough.
“Kelce, you’re such an asshole,” Carter began reprimanding him.
“Just stop,” you urged her. “It’s fine, I’m just going to bed.”
“Wait!” She called after you, but you were already walking toward the house, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. She gave Kelce one last slap and rushed after you.
Kelce, barely conscious, still hadn’t caught up with his own party foul.
“Where’s she going?” He asked Topper.
Rafe stood from his chair suddenly. 
“Will you get him out of here please?” He spat at Topper, sidestepping the fire as he stormed off toward the house.
Rafe followed your path into the kitchen, not sure what he was going to say when he caught up to you, but suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make it right. He should’ve said something as soon as Kelce put his foot in his mouth. He’d deal with that dumbass later.
He slid the kitchen door open, headed towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, but he stopped short when he heard your voice. He stayed back, out of sight but close enough to hear your conversation with Carter on the stairs.
“Carter, it’s fine,” you sighed.
“No it’s fucking not, he made you cry,” Carter practically growled.
Rafe’s heart dropped. You were crying? He was gonna kick Kelce’s ass as soon as he was sober enough to feel pain.
“I’m just tired,” you sniffled. “Please, just drop it for now. I just wanna go to sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Carter said, her voice starting to crack. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to stay.”
“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I knew he was gonna be here.”
Rafe frowned. Was the ‘he’ you were referring to still Kelce, or was it him? Was his presence really so distressing to you that you were in tears?
Carter reluctantly bid you goodnight, and Rafe slipped into the pantry so she wouldn’t see him when she descended the stairs back into the kitchen, storming towards the backyard, surely on her way to give Kelce hell.
He stood in the walk-in pantry for a minute, collecting his thoughts. 
Maybe he should be the one to leave. If his presence really was such torment to you, it would be the right thing to do. But you didn’t seem tormented earlier when you were playing beer pong with him, cheering each other on and laughing like friends. Or before, at the fire, when you’d come to each other’s defense. Even his two best friends hadn’t seen that Sabrina’s words actually hurt him, but you did. You always knew him better than anyone.
While he stood in the pantry, illuminated only by the single light bulb above his head, his eyes grazed over the shelf. Between a stack of paper plates and some hamburger buns, sat the candy he had picked out for you at the store. He smiled at the memory of your many car rides as teenagers, fueled by the snacks you had brought when you picked him up. Maybe you regretted those times now, but something about the fact that this was still your favorite candy made him feel better.
His stomach twisted with worry that after what Kelce had said, you would decide to leave. The only worse thought was that he might let you go without finding the courage to say the words he’d been holding onto since he saw you on the beach. Maybe you’d slam the door in his face, but he couldn’t let you leave without trying.
Rafe grabbed your candy off the shelf and climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to knock on your bedroom door before he lost his nerve.
(Chapter 4)
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a/n: I LOVED hearing all your Team Tom vs. Team Rafe opinions!! The competition is heating up!!!! (not my outline for this chapter starting with “note: google rules to beer pong” lol)
Ch 4 predictions? 👀
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
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gracieheartspedro · 5 months ago
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Dagger In The Heart
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.
word count: 6.1k words
warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.
description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.
author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;
“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”
He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.  
You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. 
At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him. 
It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could. 
He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.
You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys. 
You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable. 
He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance. 
His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you. 
“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands. 
You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”
“Come meet the crew!”
Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom. 
The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend. 
His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept. 
His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you. 
When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room. 
She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty. 
You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”
You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen. 
“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”
You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”
“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”
Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister. 
Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”
-
Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated. 
But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink. 
He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit. 
You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often. 
“So, you and Matt met in science class?”
You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”
“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”
“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”
You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one. 
No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?
She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”
You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot. 
You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.
“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”
She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms. 
Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh. 
“What?”
“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”
“Why not?”
She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you. 
“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”
Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!
“Your… boobs are tattooed?”
She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”
The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight. 
Sure.
But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?
“What if your family wasn’t around?”
Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg. 
“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months. 
You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”
She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”
“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”
Now you are just lying. 
Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away. 
-
You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table. 
Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship. 
You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang. 
“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him. 
“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”
You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”
“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”
Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”. 
God, he made you feel terrible about yourself. 
Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.
Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you. 
“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”
-
Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”
He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief. 
When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs. 
“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase. 
You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie. 
You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.
“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”
The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you. 
She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry. 
“Let’s see what you fit into!”
She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry. 
She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you. 
“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“
“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”
“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”
You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much. 
She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply. 
“Loose.”
She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in. 
“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”
You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”
“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you. 
“Goodnight, girls!”
And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it. 
“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”
You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”
You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track. 
The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago. 
You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly. 
“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas. 
You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly. 
“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”
You swallow, “Jealous?”
“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”
You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?
“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”
“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”
She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances. 
“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”
Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head. 
“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”
You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.
Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just. 
The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.
“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it. 
She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”
You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you. 
“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”
“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat. 
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Is he mean to you all the time?”
You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway. 
“Most of the time.”
“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”
You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?
So you shrug.
Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment. 
“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”
“Ellie, I d-”
“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”
You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first. 
“Show me now.”
You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes. 
“Are you sure about that?”
Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.
Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.
Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating. 
She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips. 
Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”
Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.
Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola. 
You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.
“Holy shit, Ellie.”
You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself. 
Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before. 
She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.
“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already. 
You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you. 
“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out. 
You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them. 
“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”
You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way. 
She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more. 
“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”
You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it. 
You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating. 
“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”
Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”
“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”
You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time. 
She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward. 
Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it. 
You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty. 
“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”
“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good. 
When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.
You think your heart is going to stop beating. 
Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.
“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”
Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted. 
Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”
She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones. 
You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut. 
“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”
You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”
She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”
You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you. 
You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action. 
“God, that cunt is so pretty.”
You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right. 
“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips. 
“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”
You halt your movements, “Ride him?”
“You’ve never ridden him before?”
Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories. 
She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure. 
“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”
The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious. 
“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.
“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.” 
You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets. 
“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.
“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.
“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”
You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”
Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response. 
“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”
“Yes, Ellie, fuck!” 
She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself. 
“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”
You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences. 
“Jesus Christ…”
“It feels so good…”
“I want this pussy forever…”
You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high. 
“That was per-”
“Babe!!”
Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.
You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps. 
You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room. 
He’s drunk. 
“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.
“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum. 
While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew. 
“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.
He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse. 
“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.  
You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat. 
“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room. 
You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”
Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”
When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda. 
Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality. 
“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder. 
Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”
She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”
“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”
-
taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)
@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna
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tojissidewhore · 4 months ago
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gojo isn’t the type of person to flaunt about how much money he has.
sure he’s wealthy, and boy he knows it. but why would that be of any concern to anybody else.
i definitely think his love language is gift giving, so he buys you a lot of expensive shit pretty much any chance he gets. weather it’s some expensive jewelry or something that reminded him of you.
point is, you know he has money, but exactly how much is uncertain to you. both of you never really talked about money, it all kind of sorted itself out naturally.
you tried to bring it up once, when you moved in together. you moved into gojos apartment so you had offered to help out with rent, but he shushed you pretty quickly, telling you not to worry about it and that it was no way near an inconvenience for him.
so instead you did more things around the house, it was your way of paying him back.
you had been dating for five years and living together for about two, when you found out just how rich your boyfriend actually was.
it was your five year anniversary and satoru wanted to make it special. so he had taken you out for dinner to a nice fancy restaurant.
"how was your food?" he asked, arms tucked underneath his chin looking at you as you finished your plate.
"good" you answered with a smile. yes your food was good, and yes the restaurant was nice. but after 3 hours of sitting there, watching the waiters put on a show and what not, you were ready to go home and have your man all to yourself.
a grin formed his face reading your thoughts exactly. when the waitress came to get your plates gojo made sure to ask for the bill, and 3 minutes later she was back with the check.
he fumbled through his wallet searching for his credit card. he paused for a second looking up at you, then back down to his wallet pulling out a card you didn’t recognize.
this credit card was black, while the one that you knew was a basic gold one. of course you knew the significance of the card he had just retrieved from his wallet (and the waitress very obviously as well, by the way her face changed at the sight of it) but you didn’t know that your boyfriend possessed such a card. he hadn’t mentioned it once.
“so, how is it that i did not know about your black amex card?” you asked discreetly. you weren’t trying to pry on him but you were genuinely curious about it.
“I guess because I almost never use it?” he said, looking at you without turning his head. “why?” he asked pulling your body closer, a small smirk forming.
“just curious” you answered cuddling into him.
“you sure?" he asked raising concerned brow.
"yea, i just didn’t know you had two cards."
"actually," he paused grinning. “i have three, or rather two and a half."
you pulled back confused. satoru lifted himself up a little bit, enough to reach over to the night stand to grab his wallet. he took out another card which you did not recognize.
"here," he said handing you over the card. “i set up a dual account for us. i know you have your account and you’re good, but you know. just in case." he smiled happily.
"i can’t accept this satoru. how the hell can you manage three accounts?"
"it’s fine baby, it’s yours as well as mine. you don’t have to feel bad about it. presides i don’t ever use my black card, i don’t need it. i just forgot mine at home earlier."
you knew the requirements or reasons to get to own a card like that, yet he rarely used it? what kind of things did he buy with this card? okay, yea. this boy had money.
later that week, after getting all of the account information from satoru, you decided to register with your phone just to have a view of the account. and god let me tell you, you almost dropped your phone.
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cherriegyuu · 20 days ago
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one and the same | k.mg
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pairing: mingyu x f!reader - friends to lovers genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, hurt/comfort word count: 7.6k summary: mingyu only had eyes for gyuri, and you only had eyes for mingyu warnings: mentions of alcohol and food a/n: it's been a really long time since i posted anything at all, so this is almost new lol. huge thanks to @joonsytip who not only was my beta for this one, but also read each paragraph as i wrote it. i hope you like it!!
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You lowered the camera in your hands, your eyes focusing on the man at the end of the porch, on his furrowed eyebrows, crossed arms over his chest, and the redness at the tip of his ears—a clear sign that he should have listened when you told him to put on a beanie.
The faint winter sunlight touched his skin in a caressing manner but did very little actually to warm him up. Your words from the night before kept on echoing through his mind
“There’s nothing wrong in taking a step back and putting some distance between you and something that hurts you”
It was the first time he had ever seen Gyuri like that, as a catalyst for pain, in his life. Throughout all the years he had known her, Mingyu thought of her almost as a haven, the one person he went to when he needed comforting. It took him such a long time to understand that she was also the reason why he needed comforting in the first place. 
Maybe it was all his own fault, if he had made a move when an opportunity presented itself, and there was at least a handful of them over the years, he wouldn’t be feeling like that like he had just missed his very last chance. 
He felt even worse for thinking that way when he knew how deeply in love she was with Seungcheol, how her entire face lit up at the mere mention of his name, how the man would break himself into pieces if it meant that he would get to see her smile once again. 
“I didn’t mean to make you sad when I said those things to you last night”
Mingyu finally turned to you, the frown on his face easing once he saw you, a smile taking over his lips as he shook his head. 
“You didn’t. I asked you to be honest and you were, I should have been prepared to not like what you thought of the whole thing”
You hang the strap of the camera on your shoulder, taking decided steps towards him. He suddenly felt shy at the fact that your eyes never left him, even when someone walked by and said hello. Your response came quick and polite, your customer service voice taking over but the person never really got your attention. 
“Mingyu” his name left your lips in a quiet tone, your eyes suddenly searching his face.
“What?” his voice too was quiet, like he could barely push the word out. 
He didn’t know what this sudden change in your demeanor meant. You had always been on each other's tails, bickering away just for the fun of it. He wasn’t too sure how to react to a different version of you, a you who seemed to care for him far deeper than he could have ever anticipated. 
You extended your hand, cupping his cheek while your thumb ran over his lip. A second later your other hand was on his face as well, only this time it ran from his nose up to his eyebrows. 
“Stop forcing yourself to smile when you don’t feel like it. You don’t have to pretend, at least not with me”
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It felt weird to be the one nursing someone’s broken heart while said someone is someone you liked. While you sat there, by his side, helping him pick up the broken pieces of his heart, your own stood in front of him jumping up and down as if saying “Look at me! I’m standing right here, all you have to do is notice me”
There you were in this romantic place, in front of a fireplace, a glass of wine in your hand, a blanket around your shoulders, the guy you had a crush on by your side, his knee bumping into yours, all the while you felt your own heart breaking. 
You had set yourself up for failure, that much was beyond obvious, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. The moment you saw Mingyu stand in front of you, in clear distress, eyes red with unwashed tears, your heart both constricted and expanded, all at once. 
It felt good that he had gone to you but it also felt terrible to know that he was suffering and there was nothing you could do to ease his pain away. 
“I never asked you why you brought me here with you,” Mingyu said during dinner. 
It was the first week of January, the start of a new year, the start of, hopefully, a lifetime together for your clients, but to you, it was just another day working. In your mind, after calming down a very distraught Mingyu, inviting him to a resort in the middle of the winter made sense. A change in scenario, you had convinced yourself, would be too good for him, it was far better than staying at his apartment thinking about Gyuri and her now imminent marriage. 
“I needed help carrying the heavy stuff,” you laughed. 
It was a clear lie. You had given the week off to Chan three seconds after you said bye to Mingyu, but he didn’t need to know that. You knew that he would never find the truth out, he had never even met Chan before, and the last thing he’d ask was why Chan had to skip work – another lie about Chan’s mom needing him.
“You know I don’t believe you, right?” he had his eyebrows raised, waiting for your confirmation “We both know that you’d rather cut off an arm than ask for help, especially my help”
It’s how two people can have extremely different views of the same situation. In your mind, you always did your best to be around Mingyu whenever you could, most of the time you were truly really close to looking like a pathetic mess. 
Should you have played the damsel in distress card? Would that have helped your situation in the least? It was hard to tell. Although Gyuri wasn’t one to demand attention, Mingyu was constantly around for her, whatever she needed, he was there. 
You sipped on your wine, your eyes never daring to stay on him for more than a second at a time. All the bravado you had shown earlier, getting too close, touching him in a way that felt so intimate, was absolutely gone. There wasn’t a single drop of it in your bloodstream anymore. 
“Come on, I’m not that bad” your voice was a whiny childish sound and you hated it. 
Mingyu laughed, his head tilted back, the corners of his eyes creasing, his teeth on full display. After the laughter died all that was left was his breathtaking smile. Your heart did backflips in your chest, like celebrating a gold medal. It was the first time he had smiled, a real smile after Gyuri told him that she was getting married next September. 
“You’re far worse, to be honest” you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours, causing him to laugh once again. 
It was why you had started to bicker, in the first place, because you wanted to see him smile more, wanted to get his mind off of whichever dark place it had drifted to. If a little banter, a snarky comment here and there, were enough to brighten up his day, then you were all for it. 
“Be honest with me, just this once” he asked, trying to make his eyes go as wide as possible like puss in boots.
You laughed and pushed his face away from yours.
“I’m always honest” you played defensive.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. 
“I never know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours” he tapped your temple twice before letting his fingers slide over your face, down to your chin until his hand finally landed back on his lap. 
You pulled your knees against your chest and rested your cheek on them, not giving yourself any option but to look at Mingyu. How many times had you stared at him bluntly but he never noticed? However many it was, it was enough for you to have his face memorized. The light curve of his nose, the tiny mole on its tip, his soft eyes, the way his lips would quickly turn into a pout when he felt contradicted. 
“We’re one and the same, Mingyu” you allowed yourself to say. 
You knew that Mingyu would never connect the dots, knew that he would never be able to tell. Unlike him, you were careful with how you expressed your feelings. Mingyu was loud and obvious, everyone knew about it, and it was clear for anyone to see, while it would take someone who really knows you to tell the difference and in the circle you shared with Mingyu no one knew you that well. So, your biggest secret, the truth you were reluctantly sharing would fall on deaf ears. 
“Who is he?” he whispered, pressing his body closer to yours. 
You thanked the gods that each of you had your blanket, you wouldn’t survive if the only thing separating the two of you was your shirts.
“Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back” your smile was sad, like you had already given up entirely on the matter, and in some way you had. 
“Who is the idiot that doesn’t like you?” his expression turned into a scowl as if he couldn’t really believe you “I can punch some sense into him if want, it would be great to let some aggression out”
He was joking, it was obvious. You knew that it was just a joke, but somehow you found yourself trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly become prominent in your throat, trying to blink away the burning sensation in the back of your eyes. 
Why would his words suddenly cause that reaction? You had, as much as possible, made peace with the idea of never being loved back by him. There would never be a version of the world where the two of you ended together. Hell, not even an end, just a long period of time. 
In Mingyu’s heart, there wasn’t enough space for you. All the love that he had to give was given to someone who didn’t want it. 
“Hey, no, I’m sorry” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him, placing a kiss on the top of your head “I didn’t mean to make you cry”
His words and actions only made you cry harder. For a brief moment in time, you were exactly where you wanted to be with who you wanted by your side. It was maybe the saddest moment you had ever found yourself in. 
“You’d lose” you whispered against his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat like a sweet lullaby “It’s the kind of fight you could never win”
You pulled yourself away from him, but Mingyu didn’t seem willing to let you go. His arm barely moved. Instead, he only gave you enough room to move so that you could look at him. 
His eyes had gotten too intense to the point you felt your cheeks get warm under his gaze. Mingyu’s eyes moved from your own to your lips, then back and forth again. 
Your breath got caught when you felt him lean forward and stop. He was half an inch away as if asking for permission or consent. You could have said no, you could have pushed him away, could have done anything at all to stop what was about to happen. Instead, you inched forward and pressed your lips to his. 
Your entire body melted under his touch, the loudness in your mind suddenly quiet at his touch. A quiet moan escaped your lips when Mingyu deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding passage through your lips as one of his hands traveled to your neck, the tip of his thumb on your chin, slightly tilting your head back. Your hands created a kind of their own, running over his clothed chest to the back of his head, your fingernails scratching his scalp. 
It would be a lie to say that you had never imagined yourself in a similar position. Nothing in the world, no amount of imagination, could have ever prepared you for the real thing. How hot your skin got under his skills lips, how your body molded into his once he pulled you over his lap, how you nearly lost your mind when he sucked on your neck leaving a mark that you knew would last for days on end. 
You pulled back for a second, needing to catch your breath again. Mingyu looked at you with glassy eyes while trying to catch his breath too. He moved his hand down your back, going slower at the curve of your ass and the back of your thighs, his touch teasing, daring almost, as he smiled. 
“This is a terrible idea” you whispered. 
Mingyu smiled then, pulling your body flush against his, your center pressed over his growing erection. 
“No” he murmured over your lips “It’s the best idea we’ve ever had”
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The sound of Mingyu’s footsteps rang repeatedly in your mind like it was happening all over again. If it had been weeks since it happened, since you pretended to be asleep when you felt he untangle his body from yours, quietly put on his clothes, and leave the room after he made sure you were fully covered with the blanket. It was a sound that kept you awake at night and when you did manage to sleep it haunted you in your dreams. 
You didn’t know what you were expecting from him, from the situation. The truth of the matter was that you shouldn’t be expecting anything at all to begin with. 
Taking Mingyu on your work trip had been the start of all your terrible ideas. It was followed by the colossal mistake of being with him in a dimly lit room and then everything after. 
You had never seen or heard from him again. When you finally managed to move into bed, after the pain in your heart eased enough to allow you to breathe, you saw his text on your phone “sorry, something came up and i had to leave in a hurry, let’s talk soon, okay?”.
The soon he mentioned never happened. You didn’t want to be the first one to reach out to him. You would never give someone, even if that someone was the person you were in love with, the chance to see you at your worst. Being the first one to call would be exactly that. 
On top of it all, you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. You knew Mingyu was in love with Gyuri, you knew that there wasn’t the slightest chance of that weekend becoming something more than it was, of somehow changing your relationship with him. It did, in fact, change, but not in the way you’d expect. 
Your phone on the table lit up, an incoming call. There were days you had expected a call from Mingyu, wished and prayed for it. You had chosen to believe when he said that the two of you would talk soon, but a day turned into a week, a week into two. Eventually, you gave up. 
The only person that still called you was Gyuri.
“Are you free this weekend?” she asked before you even said hello. 
“No, I’ve got work, on both days” 
You put your phone on speaker, not bothering to even raise it to your face. You were tired, your entire body aching from the kickboxing classes you started a few days before. All you wanted was to finish your meal and go to bed. 
“Your job sucks” she complained and you could hear Seungcheol’s laugh in the background. 
“My job is great and it pays more than yours, babe” the teasing in your voice was evident, the first time you smiled at something regarding Gyuri. 
“I’m still waiting on Seungcheol to make me a housewife,” he said something in the background but you couldn’t tell what it was. 
Their relationship dynamic was cute, it was clear from the moment Gyuri introduced Seungcheol to the friend group. She made a whole announcement off of it, there were so many warnings around it. You still remember clearly how Mingyu’s entire expression changed, his bright eyes slowly lost their spark. It was the first, and only, time you hated Gyuri. 
“Where will you be working?”
“Saturday on the cathedral downtown and Sunday two towns over, a beach ceremony”
“Your favorite,” she said dreamily.
Over the years being a photographer you found out that your dream perfect wedding wasn't one many people were willing to have. The whole setup for a wedding was expensive on its own, the word wedding making every price skyrocket, but having it on a beach was that much harder. 
“Yeah, my absolute favorite”
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Mingyu was an asshole, he was well aware of it. He felt like an asshole when he left you, when he wasn’t the first one to reach out to you even though speaking with you was probably the one thing he wanted the most. 
The problem was him, it had been all along. 
When Mingyu was with you during that weekend it felt like the pieces of his shattered heart were mending together. All cracks and scratches were still visible, the pain was still kind of there but much more subtle than it had ever been. And then you were in his arms, body tangled with his, a mess of shaky breaths, sweat, and moans. Suddenly it was like all the gears in his mind and body had clicked together, like everything was finally in the right place. 
And it scared him. 
For a moment, perhaps in his innocence, Mingyu thought that spending the night together would bring somewhat of a solace to the both of you. He didn’t think something in him would change. He didn’t think a change could happen so fast. He was overcome with fear, so he left. 
Seeing you there, wrapped up in him, a look of complete peace on your face caused a new wave of feelings to crash over him. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to untangle himself from you. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of your body, wanted nothing more than to simply hold you the entire night and wait to see what morning brought to him. But as Mingyu lay there, the feel of your heartbeat on his chest, the conversation you shared a couple of hours before suddenly came back to him. 
We’re one and the same, Mingyu. 
Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back.
Yet again, Mingyu saw himself in the position of being interested in someone who had no interest in him. So he left. 
Every single cell in his body demanded that he call you, that he went to you. He wanted to hug you again and know, god knows how, that you were made to be in his arms. He wanted to kiss you again and hear the sounds you made. He wanted to fall asleep by your side and wake you up with kisses on that sweet spot on your neck that he learned all too quickly about. 
Still, he held himself back. 
The whole situation seemed unfair to him. He wanted to be with you while still kind of liking someone, you wanting to be with someone else but somehow settling for him. 
“What happened between the two of you?” he heard someone ask by his side. 
Mingyu looked away from the door and to Gyuri, who had a perfect frown on her face. When she called and invited him for dinner he almost said no, but when she mentioned that she had invited you as well, he knew that he would be there.  He waited for the thing for days, his heart flipping as it got closer to the time of the dinner. But once Mingyu got there and realized that you were nowhere to be seen and that you wouldn’t show, he wanted to leave. 
“What do you mean?”
Gyuri rolled her eyes and sighed, clearly pissed off. 
“I know yn invited you to go on her work trip and although I might not know why and what you even did there, I do know that something happened. She’s barely talking with me, and you’re barely speaking to me. She shuts down the moment I say your name and you’ve been looking at that door like you’re waiting for someone and the only other person I invited today was her. So you’re going to tell me what happened between the two of you, right now, or Seungcheol is going to beat you until do”
She was out of breath when she stopped talking. Mingyu turned to Seungcheol, eyebrows raised, but all the other man did was laugh and shake his head. 
It’s almost comical how Mingyu used to see Seungcheol almost as a competitor, but while sitting on said man’s couch he looked like just any other dude. 
Mingyu half expected something to happen inside of him when he saw Gyuri but it was just like seeing any other of his friends. Nothing happened, there was no tension, no urge to leave because he hated to see you around Seungcheol. There was indeed a need to leave, but it was to go towards you. 
“Can you find out for me where she’ll be this weekend?” 
He was avoiding his question, sure, but he had also made a decision. Mingyu was a man with a mission. 
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There was something that brought you peace when you worked. It was hectic, yes, and loud, but the second you held the camera and pointed it at something it was like the volume of the world was turned down. It was like an almost out-of-body experience. This feeling paired with the incredible view of the beach, made your heart feel good for the first time in months. 
It was already the end of the celebration, half of the guests were drunk and the other half was helping those who were. The newlyweds had left and there wasn’t anything else to do. You packed your equipment, put it in your car, and went in the opposite direction of the wedding. 
Although you enjoyed being at the beach, you rarely went to one. The craziness of the day, the lack of a routine, and sudden weddings, all made it impossible for you to have a day or two off. There was also the fact that you had been avoiding free time because it gave you a chance to think about Mingyu, and thinking about him usually led to crying, crying led to binge eating sessions that would inevitably cause a migraine. 
You doubted your heart would heal any time soon. It was like the wound was still open, thinking about him or talking to Gyuri was like throwing salt at it. 
You heard your name being called and turned around. Slowly you turned around, certain that you were confused about who was calling you. There was no way it was actually Mingyu. 
However, there he was. In light-colored pants and a dress white shirt with the first three buttons open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was much longer than it was the last time you saw each other, falling over his eyes slightly, his cheeks were red from being exposed to the sun for too long. He had the most beautiful smile as he walked towards you, one of his hands in his pocket, the other carrying his shoes. 
It was almost pathetic how your heart was suddenly filled with hope and joy at the mere sight of him, after months of complete silence. 
“I can see why beach weddings are your favorite, it’s really beautiful out here”
You wanted to ask how he knew that or why he was even there, to begin with, but you didn’t, sure that Gyuri’s sudden call on Thursday had something to do with it. Instead, you turned around and kept walking until you reached the spot you were looking for. Looping down on the sand you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, happy to finally feel the sand under your skin. 
“I’m sorry I left like that,” he said as he sat by your side “and I’m sorry I didn’t call you like I said I would”
You shook your head. 
“It’s fine, I could have called you too” 
Whatever was the meaning of the conversation, whatever was the reason why he went after you, you wanted to be over already. There’s only so much hurt a heart should be able to handle and your quota had been met a long time ago. 
“Can you let me explain?” 
Mingyu reached for your hand but you pulled it away. You were already so close to just allowing yourself to fall into that same wheel of repetition with him, putting yourself through absolute pain to be around him. You needed to break the cycle and that meant being away from him – though you were sure the whole what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t feel thing was actually a bunch of crap because your heart was hurting plenty, even after months of being away from him. 
“You don’t need to” you hid your hands under your thighs when you noticed that he might reach out again “I knew what I was getting myself into that night, it’s not like you played me or anything”
Saying those things out loud brought an entire new wave of pain to you. In a certain way, keeping quiet about those feelings, refusing to cry over them, was like shoving all of it into a box and pretending it never really existed, or maybe that it was a dream all too real. 
“I left because I was overwhelmed. I thought I had all my feelings figured out, and thought that it would be about two people with a one-sided crush finding a bit of solace in each other. But then…” he paused and turned his body to you and you had to use all your self control not to look at him, to not fall into the deepness of his eyes “Being with you was like finally being able to breathe or stepping out of a cave for the first time in my life. You were the light drawing me out the whole time and I was just too dumb to realize it sooner”
You closed your eyes as the tears started to roll down your cheeks, even if crying in front of him was the last thing you possibly wanted. 
Mingyu was saying all of the right things, all the things you always wanted to hear from him, but somehow your heart got tighter inside your chest. There was no relief, just more pain. 
“So you’re not in love with Gyuri anymore?” 
Your heart constricted just at the thought of his answer. 
“I’m sure I was at some point but I think somewhere along the line I simply got used to it so I didn’t know how to fully let go”
“So I’d be your rebound? The getting under someone to get over someone thing?”
Those words hurt so much to say, it was like taking a knife to your skin and pricking it open, not enough to bleed but just enough to burn and scorch. 
“No! No, of course not!” the desperation in his voice made you open your eyes and turn to him “I know it’s confusing and I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know that. But something changed that night and I got scared, so I left”
He was saying all the right things and even so… It felt like it was both too soon and too late. Too soon to get over someone he had been in love with for years and too late to try something with you. It had been a whole three months since you saw him for the last time since you interacted in any way. You had been hurt too deeply, perhaps even beyond repair. 
“Do you remember that night, when I said that you could never win a fight with the guy I like?” Mingyu’s face twisted like the mere mention of the guy brought a sour taste to his mouth “You could never win because you’d be fighting yourself”
You watched as his face went from confusion to relief like he had finally reached the shore after swimming for hours. 
“I have liked you almost as long as you have liked Gyuri” you started before he could say anything else “I watched as your heart broke when she talked about someone, when she introduced Seungcheol, and how we all collectively understood that he was the one for her. I watched you suffer through their relationship and even more so when she announced they were engaged. Your heart was hurting for her while mine was hurting because of you. I don’t believe you when you say that you’re over her because I watched all of that happen”
You stood up and picked up your shoes. You needed to leave, needed to put some distance between yourself and Mingyu. 
“All the things you said just now? I dreamt, wished, and prayed for the moment you’d see me and say those things. I never thought I’d walk away from you if it did happen” when Mingyu stood to follow you, you raised your hand, smiling sadly at him “Please, don’t follow me”
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The weird thing about a broken heart is how physical it can get. Hearts were simply muscles and therefore it shouldn’t hurt over emotional pain, still as you lay in bed that night it felt like you had been run over. No part of your body wasn’t in pain. A weird mix of heartache and sobs was all that you could feel. 
It was like that for days. You only forced yourself to get out of bed when you were needed for work and if you didn’t need to be there, Chan was running things on his end. 
There were countless texts and calls from Mingyu, all left unanswered. You used to sit and watch and your phone screen would light up with his name and go dark, just to light up again a few minutes later. He gave it no rest but once he realized that you’d never pick up his calls, he started to leave voice notes. 
“I know why you won’t pick up my calls, but I hope at least you’ll hear this message, like you have been reading all of my texts until now” 
You had put off listening to them. You desperately wanted to, but you were scared that millions of pieces of your heart would break again and leave nothing but dust. A heart that could never really be mended again. 
Liquid courage was needed to even click on his name, a double shot was required to listen to the first message. 
“Out of all the things you could have possibly said that day, me being the guy you like was at the bottom of the list. When you told me about the guy, I got so angry. All I could ask myself was who is dumb enough to let her go? Turns out I’m the dumb guy. You see, the reason why I left was because I got scared, but only because I realized that I liked you way more than I ever anticipated and once again in my life, I saw myself liking someone who didn’t like me back. It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? I was scared to put myself out there with you, scared to see you with someone else, that I kept myself from you for months, when all I wanted was to be by your side. The moment I got into that train I wanted to go back to you and never let go again. I know you don’t believe me, but I wish you would”
At the first word he said your eyes filled with tears. You had wanted nothing more than to just be around him, in his presence for whatever reason. Listening to the first one was like breaking a dam and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. 
“I’ve thought about it, why you’d think you’d be my rebound and I want to assure you, though I’m not really sure how yet, that you’re not. There’s no version of the world, even the ones I’m dumber than I already am, in which I’d treat you like a rebound. The only reason why it took me so long to get to you was because I wanted to be sure, that I wasn’t making a big mess in my mind. I have you in so high praise in my mind that I’d rather cut off an arm or a leg than do anything to hurt you”
“I feel like the greatest jerk ever, you know? Before, we used to meet alone and then I’d just cry about some other girl and you were just so willing to listen. I remember how sad your face would turn when I said something and I used to think that you were simply feeling sorry for me but now that I know the truth? I’m so sorry that I put you through that. For the longest time, I kept thinking that I was in the worst position one could be, while you were in a much worse one. I’m so so sorry”
You listened to audio, after audio. Each one of them brought a new wave of tears to your eyes, a new sob to leave you. 
After all the audio messages, there was a text. 
“Please, agree to meet me. Give me just one chance to prove to you that I’m not just talking out of my ass, that I mean everything I said”
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The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, not a simple cloud in the sky to ruin a perfect sunny day. The perfect weather for the kind of pre-wedding pictures Gyuri wanted. 
“After the week we had, I thought we would have to postpone today's shoot,” Chan said, setting down the equipment on the ground. 
It had been raining the entire week, the one of rain that just setting the foot outside the door meant getting drenched. Gyuri had called you in complete desperation every single day, almost crying. Both you and Seungcheol going around in circles to calm her down. 
“God listened to all of my prayers this week,” you joked. 
While you and Chan were setting up your equipment, Gyuri and Seungcheol were getting ready inside the house. 
You turned around when you heard the sound of another car approaching. You thought everyone had already arrived. 
“Shit”
It was a car you were all too familiar with, having learned how to spot it from far away, even if you weren’t exactly the kind of person who knew a lot about cars, despite having your own. 
The car parked right by yours and a second later Mingyu stepped out. His eyes were covered by sunglasses and in unusual casual clothes. He smiled as soon as he saw you. 
He took out a few boxes from the back seat and turned to you. 
“Do you mind?”
Blinking away your surprise you took one step forward but froze in place again. 
“I’ll help,” Chan said, already going towards Mingyu and taking the boxes from his hands “Where do I put these?”
Mingyu's smile faded a little. He blinked the surprise away and turned to Chan. 
“On the kitchen, please” Chan simply nodded and entered the house while Mingyu walked to you, his most charming smile in place “Don’t think you can simply ignore me today”
The words whispered in your ear, causing a flash of that night to cross your mind. 
God have mercy on my soul. 
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The entire day was a big test of self control, on how much you could focus under enormous pressure. The pressure of being the photographer at your best friend’s wedding was already enough. But having Mingyu around? That was a whole new level of pressure. One you were still yet to meet. 
You could feel your eyes tracking your every move. Every step you took, every word you said, every breath you took, was under his watchful eye. 
When Gyuri and Seungcheol went inside to change clothes, Mingyu approached you. 
“Here, drink some water” he extended a bottle of delicious cold water, but you hesitated for a second “Come on, it’s like a hundred degrees, you’re all in black. It’s just water”
“Why are you here?”
Mingyu took the cap of the bottle out and handed it over to you. He waited until you drank some before he answered. 
“I invited myself, figured it was a good excuse to run into you” you rolled your eyes and turned away from him “You don’t believe me?”
That’s the thing, you did. 
For days you kept listening to his messages, one after the other, and then the ones he sent after. Sweet, sweet words that made you giggle like the teenager you never were. His date ideas, followed by not-so-sweet things he’d like to do with you. 
“I do” you handed him the bottle back. 
Mingyu blinked at you a couple of times, like he was having a hard time registering what you just said. His confused face was easier on his eyes than his charming, flirty, side. 
“I’m sorry I hurt you, that’s absolutely the last I ever want to do. I’m sorry for being a complete idiot and never realizing both of our feelings, because honestly, it takes a complete idiot like me to overlook something that was right in front of me the entire time”
He reached for your face, his hand covering almost the entire side of your face. 
Finally, you caved in. 
You closed your eyes and leaned into his hands. The weight that had covered your heart for months was suddenly gone. All that was left was this fluttery feeling. 
“I missed you”
The admission came in a whisper. 
You missed him in every sense. Mingyu was your friend before he was the guy you liked, a presence so constant in your life and then suddenly there was no him. 
No random annoying texts, no midnight tours to McDonald's, no sudden barges into your apartment because you’re not fooling me, I know you haven’t eaten the entire day miss. 
“Oh, sweetheart”
He smashed his lips over yours. Mingyu was like a man who found water after days in the desert, a hungry man gifted with a banquet. Your body was pulled entirely against his, both of his hands on your face, holding your face close, your own on his back. 
Mingyu was the first one to pull away. He placed small kisses all over your face, up your nose, your forehead, and then back with a quick peck on your lips. He sighed as he pressed his forehead to yours. 
“I missed you so much,” he whispered and quickly kissed your lips again. 
“Do you mean it? Everything you said to me both on the beach and in your messages. I can’t take another heartbreak, Mingyu”
He tilted your head back, making sure that he had your full attention. 
“Every part of me is yours. There’s only one person I want by my side and that’s you”
You stood on your tiptoes and pulled Mingyu to you. The heat taking over your skin had nothing to do with the scorching sun, but everything to do with him. 
“I missed you so much,” he said before pulling you close again. 
The world seemed to have stopped moving. It was just you and him and nothing else. 
“Oh great, the sexual tension in the air will be even worse now” someone groaned behind you. 
Unwillingly you detached yourself from Mingyu and turned around. Seungcheol had a grin on his face while Gyuri had a full-on smile. 
“Oh, so that was the issue. Just two idiots taking too long to realize that they wanted to fuck” 
“See? I told you but you didn’t believe me!”
Gyuri threw her hands in the air. 
“I thought she couldn’t stand him”
“Sweetheart, that’s called sexual tension”
You pointed a finger in their direction. 
“If you two keep talking, some pictures will get ruined” you turned to Chan “You, not a single word about this”
Mingyu laughed and turned to him, hitting his shoulder once and then pushing him away. 
“And you, go away. You’re too distracting to be around”
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There was an unfamiliar weight over your body. It was too hot under the sheets and the extra weight wasn’t helping a whole lot with it. The night sky didn’t help tell the time or even an approximation. 
When you tried to move the weight around your body got tighter and heavier. You turned around in bed and all the irritation over the heat vanished. 
Mingyu had your body wrapped up in his. His right arm and leg over you in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable for him but you didn’t dare to move again. 
You had struggled to fall asleep. Your mind constantly took you back to that night, to the sound of Mingyu leaving and your heart shattering at the same time. 
“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere” he promised, placing a kiss on your forehead and tightening his hold on you “This is the only place I want to be, with you”
After a few minutes, Mingyu noticed your breathing evening out and he too was able to relax. He hated that he was the one who caused you so much pain. 
When you told him about it, Mingyu was washed with both happiness and regret. Happiness because you liked him back and regret because he wasted so much time. 
He had liked Gyuri, he wasn’t going to shy away from that. He had and that was it. Finding out her engagement wasn’t as soul-shattering as you had thought, or at all. What was truly soul-shattering was seeing the pain so evident in your eyes, how you seemed to barely be holding yourself together, and knowing he was the cause of it. 
Slowly he started to notice the difference in your actions. Small things that you’d do for him but not for other people, shit you’d take from him but never from someone else. 
He had so much he wanted to say to you, things that maybe would make the situation clear for the both of you, but you, rightfully so, weren't taking any of his calls. When he noticed that you were at least reading his texts, he took it as his chance to expose his feelings. At first, he thought about writing but those would be too long and that was something he knew you hated. His second option was audio messages. He could only hope that you would listen to them. 
Having you accept his feelings for you was indescribable. You were the light in life, pushing away all the dark clouds that threatened to darken his day. 
“You’re thinking way too hard in this ungodly hour” he murmured with his eyes still closed. 
Mingyu noticed when you stirred awake, the tension going over your body. The light sleeper on him woke up to every small movement you made, and you moved a lot. 
“I’m hot” you whispered.
“Yeah, you are”
You laughed out loud and Mingyu pushed his face further into your hair, taking in the soft jasmine from your shampoo. He missed your laughter, he had taken it for granted for too long. 
“Laugh again and I’ll let you go”
You poked his rib trying to push him away.
“You have to be funny first and you're, like, the most unfunny person I ever met”
Mingyu made a quick movement, suddenly he was sitting on top of you, holding your arms over your head.
“Take that back right now” you simply shook your head, doing your absolute best to hold back a smile that threatened to peak out “You're sure about that?”
You simply nodded and that was enough for him. He slowly moved his hand to the side of your body. What could have easily been a sensual touch quickly turned into a merciless tickling session. You did your best to keep your laugh in, not make a single sound, but there was no fighting against it. Soon enough you were a mess of laughter, tears running down the side of your face. 
“Okay, I surrender! You win, I laughed”
Only when your body stopped shaking that Mingyu fully let go of your hands. 
“From now on, tears of happiness are the only ones you’ll ever cry. I’ll make sure of that”
Slowly, you ran your hand up his arm that was holding his weight next to your head, to his shoulder, until you were able to tangle your fingers through his hair. 
“Well, I was hoping that I could cry because of other reasons too”
Something in his eyes changed.  The softness was gone, replaced by mischievousness. 
“We can arrange that”
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arabellasleopardcoat · 11 days ago
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Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)
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Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?
Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.
A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!
IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you. 
The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him. 
Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.
You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore. 
Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn. 
You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather. 
You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics. 
Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies. 
And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners. 
Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war. 
Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him. 
You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite. 
While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you. 
That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying. 
Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in. 
You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet. 
There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace. 
You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.
“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.” 
“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless. 
“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.” 
You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not. 
“I simply did my duty, my lord.”
Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you. 
“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it. 
“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all. 
“He is a child.” You say, slowly.  “No person would leave a child in need.” 
“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner. 
“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal. 
“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.  
“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are. 
“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over. 
He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?
“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good. 
“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.”  Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him. 
“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion. 
“We do not believe that here.” 
“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue. 
“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.” 
“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt. 
YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.
“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing. 
It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are. 
“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you. 
“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.” 
One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter. 
“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.” 
“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries. 
You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler. 
As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.
“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart. 
Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you. 
“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”
You cannot help but smile a little. 
“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.” 
Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so. 
The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms. 
“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf. 
You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things. 
It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise. 
“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.
“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you. 
“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.” 
It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you. 
“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world. 
“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.” 
“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words. 
All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him. 
What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe. 
And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!
“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
This was bad. 
You were falling in love with Cregan. 
“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace. 
Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words. 
“Neither do I.”
SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare. 
Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands. 
That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.
“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!” 
“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.” 
Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.
“What is fascinating?” 
“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.
His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment. 
“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman. 
“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.” 
“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.” 
“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.” 
“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.” 
“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara. 
“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines. 
“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.” 
“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.” 
“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all. 
“Of course.”
Sara positively beams. 
“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.” 
“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised. 
“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.” 
“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking. 
“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.” 
Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help. 
Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you. 
He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you. 
He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs. 
It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it. 
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