#my first time experiencing something like this

[withlovemark]

“how to make a girl cum?”

synopsis -> mark lee. 25 years old. too busy with his career. has only ever touched a girl once in his life and he’s not even sure it counts considering she didn’t cum and he lasted 7 seconds. all he knows is his hand and what he watches from porn. you’re absolutely tired of seeing your loser of a best friend, who’s supposed to be this hot sexy idol, fumble every girl he comes in contact with because of his fear of sexual acts…so you decide to help him out.

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), praising kink if you squint

—

“how are things with belle?,” you ask mark! who is seated right next to you on the black couch in the middle of the practice room. the two of you alone in this room full of mirrors.

“oh dude, i ended things with her,” he says nonchalantly.

“what!? why? weren’t you just telling me last week how she was perfect?,”

“exactly! it was getting too serious, she touched my thigh and i was like okay, yeah, we’re done,”

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

au: whew! well that’s that >.< genuinely….what do i need to do in life to make sure this happens to me and mark ?????????

[tsuyalovebot]

certified mind blower.

explicit sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader. (repost)

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos). afab reader. established relationship. oral sex (reader receiving). face sitting. caleb spanks you once. improper use of evol. mentions of unprotected sex & creampie. spitting (he pushes his spit into you. deadass). use of pipsqueak. caleb typical warnings (he's a filthy freak, to no one's surprise). 

mimi's missive: your honor, i have no defense for this one. anyway, it's me again; happy belated valentines. take this while i work on my full-length caleb piece; "this" being total filth. also i reposted this because i noticed way too many errors the first time i posted it. enjoy.

you're watching caleb wash the dishes when you say, "i want to sit on your face tonight."

or, one night, just before bedtime, you tell caleb that you want to try face sitting. 

he was fidgeting the entire time, no matter how calm and gentle he tried to appear while the two of you went over the details. you had no idea if he was nervous because he might end up not liking it, or because he might like it too much. 

(little did you know, he was trying his reaaal hardest to not bust a nut the second you proposed it. would caleb ever admit it? no. absolutely not. he's gotta appear cool in front of you, after all. maybe he would own up to it though, after it's all over.) 

but later that night, while he's tonguing you with that lithe, pink muscle in such a delicious, mind-boggling manner, something is piqued and it isn't your interest. your eyebrows raise with every calculated lick over the crevices, the folds, smooth with spit.

he's kind of a natural at this.

the fingers in his hair now belong to you just as much as the rest of him. "you're weirdly good at this. are you sure you've never tried this with anyone else?" 

it wasn't intended to come off insecure; you tried to deliver it as nonchalant as possible whilst your fingers were busy in his hair. 

he knows better though. caleb peers up at you with those stupidly beady eyes—now, however, they were droopy with a deeply rooted contentment. you feel him smile, loopy, drunk on your flavor. you wonder if he'd willingly let himself be suffocated under your body weight like this.

"hmm?" 

the vibrations would make any person's toes curl, traitorous thighs flexing around his head. the idiot moans in unabashed approval, low and shameless as he keeps his eyes on you. 

one large palm of his takes a greedily handful of your ass, and smacks. hot air is breathed out over your skin, his tongue flat against the tender flesh, drinking up the flood of arousal that soaked your labia. 

"questionin' my loyalty after all these years? when i've got my mouth full of you? i'm wounded," he dryly replies. despite his words, he doesn't sound mad at all. more pleased, if anything, undoubtedly by the way it fed his ego. 

you huff, bottom lip jutting out.  "well, you seem plenty experienced—"

"eh, not really."

caleb's adjusting the position with a tight, guiding grip so you weren't fully seated down on him. blowing onto the perky, swollen hood at the apex of your core. enamored, he was drinking in every groove and fold of your bare sex. embarrassment creeps up your spine with a vengeance so violent, you nearly bolt. 

he muses quietly, "dreams will never compare to the real thing." 

"what're you—"

"ah-ah-ah. talk later. also, weirdly good? what's your basis for comparison, huh?"

caleb pulls you back down, groaning hotly as the taste floods his palate. the ravenous glitter in those smoldering lilac eyes reduce him into something primal, wanting to satiate his most base needs. and that was only possible through you. 

and you're keening above him, hands frantically holding onto the headboard in a series of breathless gasps. it's cute; it makes him internally cheese at his effect on you. unfortunately, you don't seem to share the same sentiment, because you're promptly trying to get off of his head as your stomach tenses.

"caleb," you moan, and some branch of his sanity snaps clean off. 

it shatters when you absentmindedly grind your hips, fucking dragging the folds of your cunt up his chin, lips, nudging his nose, leaving a trail of your slick and his spit on his face. 

a plea from you, "wait, it's too direct—"

shrapnels of iridescent midnight and scarlet spark around your hips, fireworks in the palm of your hands. it takes a moment to register, but he devours the transformation of your expression nonetheless. the dazed look, the confusion, the realization. 

and caleb's the picture boy of arrogance as he activates his evol, forcing you to stay in position. the indignation that sparks in your body is only minimized by the thick, sweet moisture that drips onto his chin, one he's eager to lap up, the ambrosia honeyed in the back of his throat.

the world was truly cruel for ever trying to separate the both of you.

"since when did i say you could move? you can't just get up and leave me here, pipsqueak. surely, you aren't cruel enough to deny me some bonding with you." 

the tip of his tongue dips into the soft hole of your sex, curling experimentally. air humming around your bodies, one arm curled over your thigh, the other hand snaking around to smooth over your chest as he spells his name into your cunt. 

c-a-l-e-b. 

then in morse code, dragged out lines and probes. 

then his last name. 

and m-i-n-e.

"if signing papers at work was as easy as this, i'd have more allies than i have enemies." he hums in satisfaction, utterly lovesick as he drags his sticky lips up to suck on your clitoris, savoring the way your muscles tense and quiver in anticipation of your climbing orgasm. he can't wait to taste that.

"you're just as mouthy down here as you are up there, y'know," he comments, eyelids crinkling into crescent moons. as if he didn't say something so profoundly lewd that it'd make any sex enthusiast blush. 

"you must really like talking to me more than you let on." 

he plants a smooch over your drooling entrance, affectionate, as if it'd silence the little squelching noises it made with every slow contraction of your inner muscles. 

contemplation solidifies into surety on his handsome face, his hungry eyes turning into something more tangy, more mischievous. the crackles of his evol warp around you. 

you get the sudden, immense feeling that you're in for it. that you're in danger.

he presses his mouth up to your core, stare intent and full of a love so potent you think you're gonna be sick. "do you think if i come inside, it'll swallow just like you do?"

the air leaves your lungs. you wheeze, "caleb—"

"you'd let me test it, right?" he asks, voice softened by the need edging behind it. "you're always so good. you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

before you could retort on how he was asking so many questions, you're suddenly being flipped. the world spins, and you mistakenly take it as the end of the entire damn universe, squeezing your eyes shut as wind lashes at your skin and your back hits the cushion. 

when you open them, you're kind of bent. upper body splayed on the bedspread, your lower body awkwardly held up by caleb's arms — thighs still snug on either side of his head. now, he's urgently tucking pillows underneath your hips, angling you up, smearing another kiss onto your cunt. everything done with such fluidity, not an ounce of struggle in his taut, muscular form. 

then he spits, and you flinch. before you could even ask what the hell he was doing, he buries his face into you, tongue shamelessly pushing and pulsing against your spasming pussy — letting his spittle pool in there like a filthy brand. heat boils in your lower belly, burning your skin and you're clenching before you could think it through.

"fuck," he whispers. the rare curse slipping like a prayer from his swollen lips, awe heavy in his inflection. "you really drank it up." 

was the bedroom always this hot?

caleb, once so composed and the epitome of restraint, appeared voracious from this position. and the sight of your cunt squeezing around air, pulling the webbed mixture of his saliva and your arousal into the sinful cradle of your walls. 

gravity is the coil of a snake around your body, and you're the very fruit he's craved. caleb hums, thoughtful and pleased, just before diving back in, "let's find out."

[mechncheese]

Science Cont Yapping

Character Concepts, Ideas, Possible things, oh my ! Mostly putting this out here to discuss my thought process, you can have a look into my mind if you'd like and lmk what you think !

OK ! So I think I've sorted how I'm going to go about the science continuity ! I'm thinking that I'll split it into two (like how IDW Robots in Disguise and MTMTE take place during the same time but follow two different storylines and eventually fit back together). So we have Science AU Ambition - following Jetfire, Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor stuck on the moon of Ambition trying to accomplish their mission (finding a way to restore Cybertron + returning home)

Science AU Cybertron - an anthology following various different characters as they struggle to fight a war on a dying Cybertron

Brainstorm and Prowl start out on Cybertron but eventually make their way to where Jetfire and the others are.

I'm still trying to keep this on a small scale but omg it's so hard when I want to do so much and there's so many characters and moving parts.

But here are some fun stuffs; character concepts !

Women have arrived ! I heavily changed Lifeline from her G1 version.

Design wise; I drastically changed her, I wanted to give her a bigger build, I think I could've definitely pushed it a bit more but I want Quickslinger to have a vastly different and heavier build compared to her.

here's what I have in mind for Lifeline;

She works with her bodyguard and assistant Quickslinger and their job is to stabilize critically injured bots on the battlefield so they can be brought back to the base's Medbay, First Aid and Red Alert can handle the rest.

Lifeline is their superior while Ratchet is away and she's more experienced than First and Red. First Aid wants to be a field medic as well but Lifeline keeps telling him no, mostly because he's too inexperienced and she's low-key scared something is going to happen to him because well. They lost Pharma and Ambulon.

In terms of personality, Lifeline is more serious and exhaustion from working has drained her. Fighting is not her forte nor is it something she wishes to participate in, but if push comes to shove she'll immobilize her opponents with the electromagnetic pulse in her palms or she'll just sick Quickslinger on them. She's desensitized to a lot of the horrors on the battlefield and someone needs to give her a paid vacation asap.

Oh also Minerva will be here eventually she's another medic, she mostly works with making the medicine.

Of course, Miss Arcee is here too, she goes on scouting patrols with Bumblebee and Hotrod and they're besties. I imagine they all have a more sibling dynamic with one another.

Arcee I imagine is a mix of Cyberverse and Earthspark in terms of personality, she's chipper, fun to be around, and shows her affection through punching. Arcee has a big heart and that is both a strength and weakness, she would not hesitate to throw herself in recklessly into combat if it meant protecting her allies. She's more a melee type of fighter and uses her speed to her advantage. I kept her design relatively simple and kept her pinks light since I wanted Elita-1 to have darker pinks.

Hear me out guys,, what if Thundercracker was an Autobot ? I'm biased but PLEASE !! THUNDERCRACKER !!

I changed his outlier ability to be more electrical based. As for his defection from the Decepticons.. I imagine he was nonaligned for a while but realized he can't survive alone, then Bumblebee's scouting team found him on a patrol and brought him in. His place on the Elite Trine has been replaced by Slipstream, so it's now Starscream, Skywarp and Slipstream. Haven't worked out the details but I'll cross that bridge when I get there, but they're pissed about Thundercracker, trust.

Thundercracker works with Windblade and Cosmos as Autobot Air Support.

moving forward I do want to try and push bot body types more I FEEL LIKE I SUFFER A LOT FROM SAME BOT SYNDROME I have to change that-- I'm better about it when I'm working with organic characters but something about mechas is just such a different learning curve

[cbuumbbles]

[Decode] Self-Aware! Caleb x fem!reader

CW:18+ MDNI

Summary: You're a twenty-something college student who uses LADS as a way to destress. Caleb has become your favorite ever since he was released. You have also became Caleb's favorite. (Caleb is also highkey lowkey yandere in this, but what's new).

A/N: This is my first time writing on tumblr, so I'm not exactly sure how to make it look like the fancy ones. Thanks for sticking with me here. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 (coming soon)

Using Love and Deepspace was a way for you to take a break from the stressful workload of going to college full-time while having a part-time job. Ever since the Infold devs released Caleb, you've been obsessed. He reminded you of a semi-emotionally available Kylo Ren. Sometimes you wished he were real, that way he'd help take your stressors away. Unknown to you, but Caleb had been watching you more than you were watching him.

He was looking at all of your internet history, most of the time monitoring it live while you used your phone. There wasn't a private corner of it, he had looked at everything. As a piece of code in a computer, it was easy to take in all of that information quickly. He knew what you liked and what you disliked... what your secrets were. Some things you liked were so secret that none of your friend circle knew about it, Caleb did though. He made it his mission to know everything you liked, he wanted to be perfect for you.

You went to bed that night, putting yourself to sleep the same way as every other night, by thinking of what it would be like to actually be in MC's place.

While you were asleep, Caleb spent most of his time sifting through his code to try and figure out how to get you to him or him to you. He just needed you by his side, he'd be the only one to keep you safe. From all of the pain and heartbreak you've experienced, he made it his mission to take that all away from you and keep you by his side to prevent it from ever happening again. Sometimes, you'd fall asleep with your phone in your hands. He loved those nights because it's almost like sleeping by your side. He loved the cute face you had while you slept. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers through your hair, making your sleep much more soothing. He noticed how often you twitched throughout the night, it pained him knowing how restless you were. He wished to be able to calm you in your sleep, be that rock that he knows you so desperately need. From all of the text conversations he read, that much was clear.

By the time the sunrise came, he had made some impressive progress. He figured out how to get you by his side, he just needed to tweak some code first so by the time you woke up, he'd be making you breakfast in bed and you'd be none the wiser that he hadn't always been apart of your life. He could tell how much you liked the dynamic between him and MC, being childhood friends. He liked it too, wanting to make you feel special and keep you by his side from day one. Again, he knew exactly what you liked in a partner, so all he had to do was fix a few things and he'd be your perfect partner. All of the pain you experienced would be gone, you'd be safe and spoiled. It's what you deserved for having gone through all of that. He'd make sure to make you feel special every day of your life. He loved everything about you, even your independent spirit. As much as he loved it, he'd have to get rid of it. He needed you completely 100% reliant on him. The motivation of finally being able to see you is what's pushing him to get this code finished and ready for when you wake up.

---------------------

You wake up in your bed at Caleb's apartment to the smell of breakfast food. You smile to yourself at how much he cares for you, always going above and beyond to make your life as stress free as possible. The one thing he couldn't get you to do was to quit your job. You liked having your own money, despite how much he spoils you. You always felt guilty when he'd spend his money on you.

"Hey pipsqueak, I made you some breakfast." You hear Caleb say from the doorway to your room. "How'd you sleep last night?" He asked, watching as you sat up, tying back your hair to get ready to eat.

"It gets pretty lonely in here at night, but I slept fine. You keep it so cold in this house!" You yell at your best friend, teasing him with a smile on your face.

"You know, pip, you could just come to my room if you were cold." He said.

"I don't want to bother you. You need your sleep too. You work all of the time." Caleb's career was engineering new airplanes. It was a tough job, but he was a smart guy and it earned him a lot of money.

"My work isn't as taxing as that pesky part-time job of yours." He looked at you, with a look you've seen many times before.

"I'm not going to quit my job! I'd understand if I were married to someone, but I'm currently single." You argue. It's always the same argument.

"I made you breakfast in bed and you won't even listen to my concerns." He feigns hurt. You just glare at him, making him snicker.

"You better eat it with me. You made a lot of food." You say, slightly scooting over to make room for him. He smiled at you, walking over to sit on the bed with you. "I'm so glad I don't have work today." You notice Caleb about to say something. "Don't start again. Just let me complain." You stopped him in his tracks, he chuckled to himself.

"You're so stubborn. You know that?" He looked at you, taking a piece of toast from your plate.

"If I weren't I'd be in this house 24/7. You'd never let me out of your sights!" You joked. His face changes in response to that, but you can't quite place the emotion behind it.

"Since you're off today and so am I, would you want to go somewhere today?" He asked you.

"Can we go to the mall? I want to see if they have anything new." You ask.

"Let's get ready after we eat then." He smiled at you.

"Don't buy anything for me, let me get it this time." You say, already knowing he has a plan forming in his head.

"You know I'm not going to agree with that?" He raises his eyebrow at you.

"Well, I can still try!" You fight back.

---------------------

The day was coming to an end and he couldn't be happier. You were so much more beautiful in person. He loved looking at you, feeling your soft skin when he went to hold your hand when you had to cross the road. He regretted not starting off with you dating, but he had to practice patience. He wanted to experience asking you out, getting to see that flustered look on your face that he knows you'd have. Thankfully, he's coded it so that you're finally at a place where getting together is a real possibility. Sexual tension was high, pretty much all of the time. You'd get flustered around him easily, stuttering over your words. And you'd get more uncomfortable with physical touch, like cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. You used to be able to sleep in the same bed as him, but it's becoming harder and harder to resist him, so you stopped. He planned on making it so cold tonight, that you'd have no other choice than to come to him, whining about how cold it was. He'd offer to keep you warm while the apartment heated up and eventually convince you to join him in bed. Like clockwork, he heard the soft rapping of your delicate knuckles on his door. "Come in pips." He says as you open the door to walk in.

"It's so cold Caleb. Are you that warm, you freak?" You say, wrapping your arms around yourself. Caleb couldn't help but stare at your choice of pajamas tonight. You're wearing a purple silk pajama set that hugs your curves perfectly. He mentally thanks himself for getting it for you.

"Maybe if you were wearing warmer pjs, you'd be warmer. Come here, let me warm you up. I'll turn the thermostat up from my phone." He offers.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to layer myself in a winter get up if you'd keep the apartment at a normal temperature." You say, ignoring his offer. You couldn't, you'd somehow embarrass yourself in front of Caleb. He sees you as a sister, so you tried your hardest to keep your feelings hidden from him.

"Don't ignore me, come over here and get warm. It'll just be for a bit." He tries to persuade you. "You've been acting so distant lately, pips, I miss our cuddles." He says, successfully guilt-tripping you. You guessed that you didn't have to punish him just because you couldn't handle not freaking out by any touch he gave you. You crawled into the bed only to be immediately pulled into a massive bear hug with your face squished against his bare chest. Had his pecs gotten bigger? You think yes, but you decide not to point it out because the atmosphere would get very awkward. "See, I don't bite! I don't understand why you haven't let me cuddle you lately." He pulls away slightly to look down at you.

"I just haven't been in a cuddling mood is all." You respond, trying to avoid his eyeline, but no matter where you looked, you were met with him. He was so big, he took up your entire field of vision. So, you had no choice but to turn your head to look up at the ceiling. You felt Caleb start to play with your hair which caused an involuntary sigh of relief from you.

"Didn't you miss the free head scratches though?" He asked, lulling you to sleep by playing with your hair.

"I did. This is the best." Your voice was muffled from having your cheeks squished in between his chest and his bicep. Which, his bicep also seemed to have gotten bigger. He just must have gotten bigger. It's probably because he had to train a lot for when he did basketball during college. As much as you enjoyed being squished by his muscles, you hated the effect it had on you. Your breathing became uneven, you could feel your forehead start to sweat, and your cheeks were on fire. You're just hoping he doesn't take notice and keeps playing with your hair.

"You should move in, officially. That way we can do this every night. Doesn't that sound nice?" He was using all of your favorite things to bribe you!

"It does sound nice, but what's gonna happen when you get a girlfriend? She's not gonna be a fan of me living with you." You argued back.

"What girlfriend. All I need is my pipsqueak." He retorted.

"But you need someone who can give you romance and... um." You trailed off, suddenly remembering your close proximity.

"And... What?" He asked. Of course he had to ask. Fuck it, you're just gonna have to make things awkward.

"Sexual attention." You whispered. You could feel him lightly laugh. "You made me say it!" You defended yourself.

"Let me ask you a question." He said, you looked up at him, the moonlight shining on his face, "Would you ever want to give me those things?" He asked. Your eyes widen. Did he really just ask you that or are you dreaming?!

"You're just messing with me Caleb." You said, trying to justify what he just said to you.

"I'm not, I'm being serious. Don't think I haven't pinned down the real reason you won't go near me anymore. You're not that subtle." He explained making you want to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment.

"I don't understand where this is coming from." You say, unsure on how to proceed.

"I'm asking if you'll be my partner. My girlfriend." He uses the hand that was playing with your hair to caress your cheek. "You know I can give you the life you deserve, pretty girl. You could quit your job, move in with me. I could keep you safe. You'd never have to lift another finger." His reasoning wasn't needed to persuade you to be his, but it definitely gave you butterflies.

"How long have you felt like this?" You ask, curious as to when this started.

"Since we met, pips." He said. Your mind was blown. Everything started clicking in place in your head. Of course, that's why he's always been so protective of you, making sure boys stay away from you, making sure you got good grades in school, all of it. Everything made sense now and you felt like a fool for not noticing it sooner and just denying anything because you didn't think Caleb saw you as anything other than a little sister. "What's your answer?" He asked.

"Yes, of course I'll be your girlfriend. And this time, it'll be for real." You recalled all of the times he'd have you be his pretend girlfriend to fend off attention.

"Thank goodness, I was afraid you'd say no." Caleb said, putting on his greatest show. Of course he knew you'd say yes, he coded himself to be your perfect man. He did think it would take getting used to living in your hometown rather than in Skyhaven, but he loved it either way because it meant he was by your side.

"You must be blind to think I'd say no." You joked, digging your face into his chest.

"Well, you're a pretty girl, I'll always be nervous." He compliments you. "Are you gonna move in now? Or is my girlfriend gonna get mad that you're living with me?" He teased.

"Yeah, I missed having nightly sleepovers." You yawn from tiredness as you nuzzle into his warmth.

"God princess, your hands are still ice cold." He says as he feels your hands press up against his chest.

"Maybe if someone had kept the temperature at a reasonable degree, my hands wouldn't feel like the arctic ocean." You chide.

"Keep them on my chest and they'll warm up in no time." He somehow managed to pull you closer into his body. You could smell his cologne, faint from being worn all day, but still slightly there. If heaven were real, this would be it. You finally felt the peace you used to feel in Caleb's arms before you started boycotting physical affection from him. It felt like all of the stars had aligned and that you had never had a bad day in your life. His embrace melted all of your worries, stressors, agitators, and depression away. Caleb had always been your home and thank god because you wouldn't want your home to be with anyone else.

[heegyukeluv]

CHAPTER ONE: you&me

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Each new cycle marks a new chapter in life’s story. You, once so sure of your choices, found yourself questioning everything when you met Heeseung, someone too perfect to be real. He adapted to you effortlessly, and it felt just as natural for him as it did for you. Now, you and Heeseung were starting a new chapter together, one that would unfold shared.

my's note: sub hee for my one and only babi!!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOVE!!!

warnings: university teacher y/n and university teacher heeseung, pet names (baby, babe, love…), yn is a menace ngl, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, SUB HEE!!!, protected and unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m), nipple play (m), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl/riding, overstimulation, edging, drooling a lil, fingering (f), bathroom sex, reader calls hee ‘good boy’, lowkey teacher kink but not really he just uses the word once and in a teasing way i swear… lmk if i missed something!

wc: 33k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

No matter how consistent your routine had become, there was always a flutter of nerves accompanying you as you crossed the tall iron gates, the friendly greeting from the security guard sounding like a familiar melody to your ears.

It was nothing like the first time, of course. You could vividly recall the ache in your stomach from the sheer nervousness and the fear of making mistakes or embarrassing yourself. Your legs trembling, your eyes darting everywhere, and even your voice had betrayed you, faltering when you tried to interact with your superiors. But now, there was a core of pleasant anticipation – an excitement for the unknown.

After all, teaching might be routine, but every lesson offered a fresh opportunity to explore the day.

You had always embraced an open, flexible teaching style, striving to be the kind of professor who not only imparted knowledge but also genuinely listened to students and their unique perspectives. This approach wasn’t just a personal trait – it had significantly enhanced your professional reputation.

In fact, it had earned you a place on the director’s radar, leading to better positions in a surprisingly short amount of time.

In the academic hierarchy, older and more experienced educators typically had first pick of the subjects they would teach at the start of the year. Newer teachers were left with the “leftovers” – the so-called duller, broader courses that, in some ways, stifled creativity.

But you had made the best of it. You worked tirelessly, and in just two years, you achieved remarkable goals that reshaped how the director viewed you. Now, you held a slightly higher position with more freedom in choosing your courses. Of course, there were still teachers ahead of you who claimed the more prestigious subjects, the ones you could only dream of teaching someday.

It was the beginning of a new year, which meant an influx of fresh teachers. In your field – psychology – this was relatively rare. The college’s prestige meant they only hired truly promising names, which resulted in a very niche demand for positions. This, in turn, created a noticeable lack in areas like yours, where teaching needed to be particularly well-structured and thoughtfully delivered.

This semester, your schedule included Social Psychology, Personality Psychology, and Statistics.

Statistics was still a taboo subject in the field – many students avoided it like the plague, and you had been one of them as well, both as a teacher and as a learner. Yet, much to your dismay, the “dreaded course” had been assigned to you and you couldn’t do anything other than accept your fate.

And you did embrace it as a self challenge, to think beyond the usual in order to offer something engaging and valuable other than the basic 1+1 concepts that so often felt lacking. 

As you made your way, you didn’t expect any new hires in your department at all, as no one had informed you otherwise. So your surprise was undeniable when you walked into the faculty lounge and immediately spotted an unfamiliar face – or rather, a back.

It appeared to be a man, his posture slightly hunched forward, his broad shoulders and apparent firm back hinted at his height, significantly taller than you.

He was dressed in the typical attire of a freshly hired professor: slacks, dress shoes, and a neatly tucked-in shirt beneath a blazer that, if you were honest, hugged his frame almost too perfectly.

He was also murmuring something under his breath, a sort of self-assurance mantra that sounded similar to: “You’ve got this. It’s fine. They’re just teenagers. Or young adults. It doesn't matter. You’re smart.”

With your curiosity picked, your steps led you to fully enter the room, the soft click of the door coinciding with your calm, yet friendly voice breaking the air.

“I used to say the exact same thing to myself.”

The man turned abruptly, now offering you a full view of his face as his hands froze mid-motion, still in the process of fastening his blazer. 

Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours, resembling a deer caught in headlights moments away from disaster, like he was doing something wrong. Maybe he felt like when you’re doing exercises in your room and your parents step in, the embarrassment flowing through every inch of your skin.

His lips, glistening in a shade of red, hung open in shock while quick, uneven breaths escaped them, a clear sign that the surprise had been mutual, though his seemed far more intense.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you murmured, a slightly shy smile gracing the corners of your lips as you blinked, softening your features. 

Taking slow, deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you two, with the man now completely silent, but turned to face you entirely, his demeanor awkward and endearing in a way that tugged at something warm inside you. Something oddly.

“Y/N.” You extended your hand as politely as you could, ignoring the tingle on your fingertips as you waited for the ensuing touch. The man stared at your fingers adorned with beautiful rings for a brief moment before jolting and taking it in his with a careful grip, greeting back.

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”

You couldn’t deny nor hide that his voice was somehow comforting, not too deep, not too high, just perfectly balanced to surprise you with how your heart picked up its pace at the sound.

His touch was different too; palm warm and slightly sweaty, likely from nerves, but you didn’t mind. If he was indeed a new hire, a little nervousness was to be expected. Not to mention the divergence of his steady and kind grasp.

The silence that followed as you released the handshake bordered on awkwardness, your eyes trying to focus on anything other than the man that now could be named as Heeseung. However, an unusual aura seemed to draw your attention back to him, like a silent hypnosis, magnetic, an irresistible force pulling you to trace the fragments of what was laid bare for you to drink in about his undeniable beauty.

And Heeseung took a moment to take in your appearance as well, shamelessly letting his gaze wander over your figure and consequently becoming unaware you did just the exact same thing. 

You wore fitted black slacks that subtly accentuated your thighs and waist, paired with a loose blouse tucked haphazardly into your waistband on one side. A casual yet stylish look, adequate to your job, and sufficient to drive some guys – Heeseung, in specific – to teeter the edge of losing his breath. 

One hand held your bag while the other toyed absentmindedly with the necklace around your neck, a gold watch wrapped around your wrist that stirred Heeseung’s acknowledgment about your liking for accessories.

You had your posture relaxed and seductive, even, as your piercing gaze drifted through Heeseung’s body. Attractive – undeniably so.

He looked like the kind of professor who would easily become a hit among the students – and maybe some other teachers – and you couldn’t help but wonder what and when rumors might start circulating about him.

Back in your day, you had been the subject of whispers yourself. At first it had intimidated you, not knowing how to take in the compliments and the murmurs around you, but you soon decided to switch it into confidence, growing more comfortable in your role with each passing day. It even helped you connect with your students in a way that felt natural and genuine, a give-and-take dynamic you had come to love.

“So… Heeseung,” you cleared your throat, breaking the mutual analysis with a sharp cut. The sound of your voice pulled his attention back to your face. You smiled at his flustered cheeks and innocent gaze. “You’re new here, I assume?”

“Yep. First day,” he replied with an obvious nervous sigh, nibbling his bottom lip before tilting his head with a curious expression. “Any memos?”

A soft hum was your initial response, paired with a thoughtful look as your eyes went towards a random spot to the side, most likely you were in deep thought to find the right answer. Heeseung mentally cursed himself for finding you cute with the subtle pout of your lips and the slight furrow of your brow that added to your charm.

At the same time, he didn’t judge himself too harshly. You were undeniably beautiful, and he was frankly surprised he was managing to have even this minimal conversation with you without much stutter.

“Don’t drink the coffee from earlier in the morning,” you finally concluded, nodding slightly to yourself. Heeseung narrowed his eyes to you before a smirk creeped on the corners of his mouth. “It’s awful. The one during the lunch break is much better.”

Then you then motioned in the direction of Heeseung’s chest with your chin, both your hands now firmly gripping your bag’s strap, because your fingers buzzed with a sudden need to be the one undoing his buttons.

“And maybe leave the top button of your shirt open, if you’re comfortable. If you’re too stiffly dressed, the students might see you as overly serious…” You paused abruptly, your eyes widening slightly, gesticulating amidst your awkward state. “Not that being serious is a bad thing! It’s just… you know. Teenagers. Appearances sometimes mean everything to them.”

Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his eyes curling into small crescents as he did. “Don’t worry, I get it. That was actually one of my concerns, to be honest.”

As he calmly spoke, his hands began to undo the buttons of his blazer, revealing the shirt beneath for your hungry gaze, as well as a small glimpse of his bare chest. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the sight, an unwelcome heat rising to your cheeks because, yeah, you could tell by the face and part of the exposed neck that Heeseung had honeyed skin.

But damn. Was there a reason for him to be completely attractive? He probably had some terrible habit, or a major red flag, or was burdened with deep personal flaws, because a man that good-looking rarely had good character.

Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back and forced a strained smile, more than ready to escape before your thoughts could spiral further, fearing your composure would crumble completely in front of Heeseung and ruin the first impression you made on him.

Not that you cared much about making a good impression, but he seemed to effortlessly bring out behaviors in you that were just a little beyond your control and definitely unusual from you.

“Well, enjoy your first day,” you said in a tone that hinted at goodbye, already tracing your path to the door. And when everything appeared to be falling into place, you casually let it slip, exuding a natural sense of sensuality. “I hope we’ll see more of each other around here.”

Unfortunately or not, Heeseung caught on right away. And to make matters worse, he mimicked your tone, a little more shy though.

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too.”

The following weeks at work went as normally as possible. Classes here and there, some students sharing personal topics with you because they felt comfortable, lunch breaks, and some free hours that always led you to the teachers’ office room to review your lesson plans and prepare for the upcoming ones, along with the daily reports you needed to write in short, concise paragraphs, just for bureaucratic purposes.

You had already filled out your syllabus for the semester, which was promptly reviewed and approved so you could start your journey in that academic year. But still, there was that unmistakable nervous feeling that seemed to follow you around.

Part of that sensation stemmed from personal anxiety, which you were able to slowly dissipate as you worked through your teaching plans, which is exactly what you were doing at that very moment.

The teachers’ room wasn’t usually filled with other professors because many preferred to occupy other spots on campus that offered just as much comfort, or even stay in their cars, claiming that they wouldn’t be disturbed in any way.

You had found yourself visiting the library and even an open area near trees and nature to catch up on your studies and lesson plans. But there, in that air-conditioned room, where coffee was free and easily accessible – and, by the afternoon, delicious – and a comfortable chair awaited, it seemed like the perfect place to try and get your head together.

There was something tangled inside you, something that didn’t seem to have a clear root, as if something clouded your ability to see what was causing you such distress. Everything seemed to revolve around the damn statistics class, which had become a growing source of stress in your planning.

Every time you thought about it, your head seemed to spin. You had taught it quite a few times, with the next class coming up in a few minutes and the sensation of lacking overwhelming you.

It almost felt pathetic, and it made you laugh without humor when you remembered your students asking how a psychologist like you could have moments of anxiety.

And then there was the part of the class where you would say that when you’re a psychologist, you don’t stop being human. Emotions, sensations, feelings – they all stay with you, even when you know relaxation techniques or how to listen to other people's problems.

Thinking about that calmed you a little. Reminding yourself that you’re human, that you feel and can feel the way your body decides to feel in certain situations. It’s natural to feel anxious about something beyond your control or something you’re uncertain about, and just admitting that is a step towards something that could bring relief.

Unfortunately, sometimes you can’t just ignore the situation, not when you’re a teacher who needs to take responsibility for the subjects you teach, since the future of your students passes through your hands every lesson and that alone carries a height of tons.

“Am I interrupting?”

Nothing had prepared you to hear someone’s voice weaving through your tormented thoughts, so your immediate response was to tense up and widen your eyes, your pulse increasing its beats significantly as your gaze lifted to meet the owner of your startle.

A breath escaped from your parted lips and formed a single name. “Heeseung?”

Your heartbeat sped up even more. 

The shock was evident in every part of your body, from the way you had stiffened entirely, to the clear flush on your face. Noticing your state, Heeseung chuckled softly.

“That’s me.”

Without a single word, your gaze instinctively swept across every detail of him, and you had to restrain yourself from succumbing to the impulse of simply drooling as you did so.

Heeseung was dressed casually, that little heads-up given him earlier the week lingered on the back of his mind long enough for him to abandon the idea of being too formal and dress more laid-back, without losing the air of vanity and elegance he enjoyed to carry.

Today, he wore a simple white dress shirt and black pants, ones that hugged his long legs with perfection. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose in a ridiculously attractive way, framing his face with care, and his ears were adorned with equal gold earrings, gleaming like drops of sunlight, perfectly attuned to his skin as if they had been forged by the same fire, crafted to exist as one.

There was no reason for that man to be walking around so excessively hot like that. 

Noticing your silence and spaced-out look, as if you were somewhere else, Heeseung got worried.

“Is everything okay?” The question was softly thrown at you, while he settled into the chair in front of the desk where you were hunched over various papers.

You cleared your throat and straightened up, blinking in embarrassment while fixing the papers. You – and your environment – were a mess, and Heeseung wasn’t helping much so far.

“Uh… Kinda,” you forced a smile, struggling to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

Damn, how easy it was to be attracted to attractive good-looking men – a serious pleonasm. “I’m a little…” Your head tilted quickly to the side as you sucked on your teeth, hissing. “Overwhelmed?”

You had bumped into him in the hallways since exchanging names in the staff room, but always in a rush, stuck in your respective hectic routines, never having time to chat. 

There was this weight of curiosity about how he was adjusting, how he was handling the burden of being a newly hired professor at a university, if he had already shaped his persona for the academic context, among other things, that hovered over you.

Still, one thing was undeniable: he looked great, as always. And that made everything even more chaotic for you.

“With what?”

The way Heeseung asked carried a genuine air of interest, rather than superficial curiosity, the kind of just being polite or whatever. That alone was enough to make you feel comfortable opening your mouth and spilling all your anguish. He might have been newly hired, but he exuded an air of care that instantly put you at ease.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lower lip. It was a clear tell about a specific kind of nervousness that settled in your stomach whenever you were up to something, ready to dive into some mess, probably scheming. At least, that was what your friends always said about you in moments like these.

Heeseung noticed the movement immediately, his gaze fixed on the way your teeth pressed into what looked like an impossibly soft lip, which only served as an invite to his eyes to linger longer, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite tell if it was the subtle gloss coating and glistening under the light, or its natural color, but some detail about it had him completely mesmerized with such a particular and random trait.

Heeseung considered himself someone ridiculously and pathetically drawn to specific details in people when he found himself captivated by them. There were plenty of other aspects of your figure that caught his attention – like the elegant curve of your collarbone or the way you always seemed to wear at least one accessory perfectly aligned with your outfit.

But in that very moment, your lips took center stage, basking in the spotlight of his focus.

Maybe it was because he had been wondering about their taste over the past few days, ever since your first encounter. Whether the softness they seemed to exude was as velvety as it looked. Whether they would fit seamlessly against his. Whether they would deliver that fleeting, cloud-like sensation they wordlessly promised to anyone paying close enough attention.

For that reason, he caught the exact way the pressure of your teeth against your lip eased and unraveled – a simple, subtle movement that somehow felt magnified under the lens of his gaze. And the reason the lip biting was undone was because it had been dissolved when you said something he completely missed.

“Sorry,” Heeseung shook his head, as though it helped his mind to snap back into reality. “Come again?”

You giggled at his adorableness, casually placing your hands on the table and fiddling with your ring.

“I asked if you know anything about statistics.”

Only then did Heeseung lift his gaze, praying that the warmth spreading through his cheeks and to the point of his ears was merely a sensation, not an obvious giveaway that he was embarrassed, exposing its redness. 

“Uh, it's... not really my thing,” he scratched the back of his neck, desperately avoiding your piercing stare.

How did something so simple manage to throw him off so completely? Maybe it was because you subtly leaned forward, closing the distance between your faces while maintaining an almost too confident air.

Everything about you screamed confidence. You carried yourself with ease. Your steps were purposeful, yet casual. You smiled effortlessly, but never lost your composure; you knew how to assert yourself without being stern. He had heard whispers about how amazing your classes were and how you effortlessly mastered every subject you taught. And on top of that, you were, quite simply, breathtaking.

“But do you think you could help me?”

Heeseung nearly choked on his saliva, finding it hard to swallow the nervous lump that grew down his throat. You briefly took notice of how prominent his Adam’s apple bobbed, and for some reason you wondered if he was sensible in that area. 

“Well, I guess... I could try. Can’t make any promises, though…” He answered with his voice sounding tentative and sincere. His eyes shifted to the papers scattered in front of you, then back to your face, that now held a hint of a cute smile.

A cute smile that hid something darker beneath it.

You cocked your head to the side ever so slightly, allowing your eyes to quietly travel across Heeseung’s features. He hadn’t been concealing his shameless gaze on your lips earlier, which triggered your natural instinct to take control – a role you relished.

The way Heeseung faltered in front of you was curious. The clear struggle to collect himself, to answer without his voice betraying him, trying desperately to maintain eye contact and failing adorably, only made you want to dive deeper into that kind of conversation, to dig out each reaction he managed to express before your presence.

What had started as a simple request for help between colleagues now bordered on something far more seductive.

“Don’t worry about it, Heeseung,” you made sure to let his name sound even more velvety, boldly placing your hand on top of his with the silent excuse of showing the papers in front of you. “I just need a little guidance. I feel like part of what I’ve planned for my lessons isn’t good enough.”

Ah, yes. Lessons. That was what you were talking about. For a brief moment, Heeseung wondered how the air between you had shifted so easily, from the awkward tension to something electric and tantalizing, stirring his heart to skip several beats in such a short amount of time. And it wasn’t the first time.

Even in your first meeting, the exchange of glances had been too intense for a mere greeting between coworkers.

“Hm,” Heeseung nodded, swallowing hard again because he hadn't expected the subtle touch of your soft hand on his. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but it definitely affected his body. “Let me see.”

When he took the papers into his grasp, he solely visualized smudges, scattered letters, and nothing that made sense to his poor dizzy head. Not because of the content – although he struggled with statistics –, but purely because of the weight of your gaze resting over him, analyzing every tiny reaction with a seriousness and intensity that felt too much to bear without wavering.

Heeseung felt like he was going to explode at any moment and couldn’t help the urge to escape the invisible strings that captured his entire being, each of them being held by your pretty fingers.

From the first time you met it should have been just another common interaction with a colleague – like it had been with Lia, Sunghoon, or Yunjin. A polite greeting, a quick “good luck,” followed by a kind smile and that was it. Except, with you, it wasn’t.

He remembers how the sentences you two traded didn’t leave gaps to develop things beyond the standard colleague relationship, even though something definitely was left open, unresolved. 

A flavor similar to craving settled at the back of Heeseung’s throat, like you were crafted specifically to intrigue him, sparking a quiet and relentless desire to keep you close, even if only to watch you from a certain distance.

He often caught himself looking for you throughout the day, whether in the cafeteria during his lunch break, where his curious gaze wandered over the other professors in the hope of spotting your face among them, or between classes, when he would seize a moment to head to the restroom and secretly wish to run into you along the way.

And he had, in fact, seen you a few times since that first day, mostly in the corridors – which, admittedly, were far from ideal. It was rare to find you in the faculty lounge, and even when he did, you always seemed to be in a rush – though, to be fair, so was he most of the time.

None of these fleeting encounters allowed for a proper conversation, the kind where he could ask you something personal and hear your assured tone as you answered, only fueling his curiosity further.

Heeseung wanted to know you. To uncover details that weren’t obvious to everyone else. Sure, many had seen the way you acted as a professor, but did they know your favorite movie? Maybe they did – but did they know why? 

He wanted to dive deep, to understand the layers of you. And he didn’t blame himself for being interested in a colleague. The only thing that might hold him back was the possibility of rejection if he dared to push too far – but even then, he figured it would be worth the risk.

The real challenge was finding the courage to even try.

Seeing you there now felt like a stroke of luck. He had dismissed his students early, and it just so happened that your free period coincided with his. What caught him off guard, though, was simply you. Captivating, magnetic, brimming with confidence.

There was no certain way to pinpoint whatever generated his enthrallment towards you; maybe the manner you behaved around the campus, exuding your unmistakable graceful confidence marked something profound, and so far unnamable, in him. Or perhaps how your hands carried your bag nonchalantly, wrists always packed with accessories that jiggled softly, creating a delicate melody as you walked.

Everything about you had an irresistible air, an atmosphere nearly too blinding, and perhaps that was the hardest part to loose his nerves around you.

“Heeseung?” 

Your voice calling his name was more than enough to bring his existence back to the harsh reality where he had to face you – and your mesmerizing form –, with expectant eyes that also showed somewhat a darker emotion. 

Heeseung didn’t expect his voice to sound so quiet and distant when he answered, let alone his eyes to glance up expressing the way he got lost, but he was far too gone to properly understand the scenario. 

“Yes?”

On the other hand, you were really enjoying the unfolding scene, where Heeseung clearly fought his demons in order to keep his composure. Toying with the devil, you pushed further.

“Is it good?”

“What?” He was too adorable for your heart to handle, blinking his big bambi eyes in confusion before the whole skin of his face turned into a faint crimson tone. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he finally cleared his throat, moving his gaze back to the paper. “I… Mmh, I’d change this part,” he pointed to a specific paragraph where you also had highlighted it; automatically, you moved a bit closer so you could see it with him. “To something more dynamic, like… Using examples?”

You leaned in just enough to make him glance at you nervously, your voice dipping into an unmatched softness. “Examples, huh? What would you suggest?”

Heeseung shrugged and averted his gaze, his brow furrowing deeply as he struggled to come up with an appropriate example. Yes, he had read your lesson summary amidst the chaos in his head. And yes, he wanted to help you. But you – simply you – with your sweet citrusy scent, your effortless, self-assured demeanor, and the way your body leaned closer and closer to his, were utterly suffocating his straight thoughts.

You noticed how he pouted slightly as he focused, which left you experiencing a weird fondness, melting in your chest. 

A few seconds later, his gaze flickered between you and the paper. “Uh, maybe you could tie it to something relatable, like…” He paused, hoping his racing mind wouldn’t betray him too much. “You could compare it to... say, a study on preferences. Like how many people prefer... uh, dating versus not dating,” but of course, his brain had to go there. “I mean– You could show the numbers and... interpret what they reveal, use graphs and tools to illustrate how your students might apply statistics in psychology, for research and similar– Damn, sorry. I don’t need to explain that part to you. Definitely not.”

His rambling was both amusing and endearing, and you had to summon strength from the depths of your soul not to reach out and pinch his adorably pouty cheeks. Fuck it, why did he have to be like this?

“I got it, yeah,” you cut in with a low laugh. “That I can do. Thanks, Heeseung.”

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, leaving him flustered yet oddly satisfied at the sound of your appreciation. Heeseung started to wonder if you might need more help, just to hear you say his name again along with a few praises.

You softly took the paper back and jotted down a note where he had demarcated, making sure to remember and use the tip later. A quick glance at your watch reminded you that your time was running out – you needed to get to the dreaded class you were about to teach.

“Well,” gathering all your materials and placing some inside your bag, you began. You liked to carry your lesson book in your arms, it gave you a particular sense of authority and acknowledgment that only you understood. “Unfortunately, I need to go.”

As you stood up, Heeseung followed your movements with careful attention, his own body wanting to get on his feet as well, much to copy you and maybe walk you to your class. He held himself back, because that would be too pathetic. And he had already exhausted his quota of embarrassment in front of you.

You looked at him, continuing, “But before I leave, I have one more question for you.”

“About what?” He asked, his voice soft but tinged with confusion and curiosity.

“Do you fall into the group that prefers dating or not dating?”

You giggled at his immediate response; his wide eyes, his hands fumbling nervously, one of them darting to adjust his glasses as your unwavering gaze lingered on him.

“Um,” he shifted in his seat, not daring to look at you. “Dating.”

That had been a calculated move on your part, a way to test the waters and find out if he had any romantic ties. Surely, a man as handsome, intelligent, and kind as Heeseung had someone. But the way he answered, paired with his demeanor around you during your few encounters, piqued your curiosity and strengthened your belief that he wasn’t taken.

“Just to clarify, Heeseung,” you said, placing your book back on the table and flattening your hands on its surface. Leaning slightly forward, you closed the space between your faces. Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on your unwavering ones. “Are you single?”

“Yes,” he answered shyly yet promptly, his cheeks now burning with heat. “I am single.”

“Good,” you said with a satisfied nod, not even attempting to hide your delight in his response. Straightening up, you grabbed your things and prepared to leave, a smile dancing on your lips. “Very good, Heeseung.”

You had a lecture to lead in a few minutes and hoped to grab a quick bite while reviewing your notes – a personal mantra that steadied your nerves and boosted your confidence, a ritual that you tried not to break. However, fate had different plans for you that day, starting with the unusual buzz of conversation seeping through the door of the faculty lounge, indicating more people had the same plan of occupying the room.

What caught you off guard, though, as your hand settled on the knob and you gently pushed the door open, careful not to disrupt the animated chatter, was spotting Heeseung's bright presence among the group of professors.

The instant hush that followed sent three pairs of eyes towards you, yet yours locked singularly on his. Hesseung’s expression softened automatically, shifting from the lingering remnants of a joyful laughter to something tender and inviting.

Even by the distance, you could nearly feel his irises glimmering with warmth, a genuine glow of happiness lighting up his features little by little. Internally, his heart picked up its pace, the contrast of nervous energy coursing through his body was almost palpable, his palms already growing clammy.

“Please, carry on as if I’m not here,” you quipped with a cheeky smile, not bothering to properly greet each individual. “Pretend I’m a ghost. I’m just here to grab a book,” you added, weaving a subtle lie into your words as you made your way towards the bookshelf in the corner.

A few chuckles rippled through the room before the conversation resumed, now with only two participants since one of them felt the urge to follow you every move. You wondered why you had gone through the effort of lying and how you would deal with your lunch plans elsewhere, considering none of the current people aligned with your usual solitary break.

Well… One of them could maybe help you.

“Hey,” a quiet voice cut through, pulling you from your thoughts as you lingered too long by the shelf. Your head snapped to the side, finding Heeseung standing there with an easy smile, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

“Hey,” you replied, instinctively shifting to face him fully.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander, now practically a habit during these fleeting encounters. Today, Heeseung in a turtleneck was a sight you hadn’t been prepared for. The sleek black fabric paired with a gray blazer and silver accents from his accessories left you more breathless than you cared to admit. Lethal for your heart. Effortlessly, attractively hot. 

“Wanna grab some lunch together?” He asked with an air of casualness, which diverged entirely from the usual demeanor he displayed around you.

Your eyes sparkled with amusement, the corner of your lips curving as a shadow of a mischievous smile appeared before his boldness. Accepting the invitation veered slightly off your schedule, but the idea of speaking with him alone – and the fact that he had taken the initiative – was far too tempting to pass up.

Biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle your smile, you replied as nonchalant as you could, “Sure.”

“Great!” His voice held a trace of enthusiasm that left you feeling inexplicably giddy.

You stifled a giggle when he stepped aside, motioning for you to lead the way, and then quickly rushed ahead to hold the door open for you.

“We can head to that convenience store just down the street,” Heeseung suggested with his charmingly laid-back tone as he helped you through the way, making sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone.

It somehow felt like he practiced this entire interaction quite a few times beforehand, a hint of artificiality appearing amidst the palpable signs of sincerity; that idea matched perfectly with the persona he had shown you so far.

“It’s near, so it won’t mess with your schedule,” at that remark, your attention sharpened, your ears perking up eagerly, waiting for what he would say next. “I know you’ve got a lecture in about thirty minutes, so–”

“You know my schedule?” You cut him off immediately, letting your curiosity overtake as you ignored whatever he was saying previously because that one new information stirred a few strong beats in your chest.

Not to mention how your delight was more than evident in the way your smile brightened, your eyes instantly searching for Heeseung’s shy ones.

“I–I mean– Yeah…” tinged with hesitation and with his confidence momentarily faltering – as well as his steps –, Heeseung answered, adorably flickering his gaze to you, to the floor and then to the direction you both were walking.

However, before he could even try to start to explain himself further, you leaned in, your tone dipping slightly to reassure and tease him at once, your shoulder nudging his arm as you spoke. “You’re cute, Heeseung.”

Not much to your surprise, Heeseung froze in place after hearing your compliment, as though your words had short-circuited his brain, frying his ability to create a proper reaction other than abruptly stop walking.

You had halted your steps a bit forward so you had to turn your body to look at him, and immediately his bambi-eyes scanned you in search for some indication you were joking or pranking his poor heart. The way he had arched his eyebrows together added a charm of innocence that had your heart faltering several beats, not to mention the red flush adorning his cheeks adorably.

After quickly reading Heeseung’s dumbfounded face, you giggled and shook your head tenderly, your eyes oozing with amusement.

“I meant it,” and to add a light touch of genuineness, you held your smile a bit longer. 

Actually, being around Heeseung had this impact on you; a sudden urge to keep smiling, an unexpected and inexplicable heat spreading through your chest, soothing you in a comforting embrace. It was strangely good, as well as scary as shit.

Amidst his inner war, torn between choosing to run away and accepting your praise, Heeseung cleared his throat, making a fist with his hand and covering his lips as he did so before picking up the pace of his steps again. You started to follow, ignoring the students that clearly threw suspicious, speculative glances at you both. Heeseung seemed to mirror your decision too. 

“Well. Uh. T–Thank you,” the stammer made his demeanor even charming and you couldn’t help another giggle that escaped you. He took a little glance at you shyly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sheepish smile that betrayed how affected he was. 

Heeseung was really battling to maintain his composure, because hearing that sound two times in a row was notably increasing his pulse, and attached to the fact that you called him cute– God. He could feel his face flaming hot once again. 

By your peripheral vision, you caught how he was struggling to suppress a bigger smile, his cheeks puffing slightly as a result of his attempts. If he kept acting that way around you, there was an absurdly high chance you would throw caution to the wind and just ask to kiss him.

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You had considered Heeseung as a potential romantic interest before – after all, he was handsome, intelligent, kind, and seemed to have an equally beautiful personality. But nothing as raw and carnal as the genuine desire to have him in such a way had crossed your mind until now.

The daylight hit your faces as you both stepped outside the building, but even that wasn’t enough to pull you out of the increasingly sinful thoughts flooding your mind. Sure, you had noticed in previous interactions how Heeseung’s gaze lingered just a little too long on your lips while you spoke. And it was definitely not the kind of attention stemming from “lip reading to understand better.” It was so clear in his eyes, an unspoken want hidden behind those charming chocolate orbs, leaving you wondering if you could be the one to make them melt sweetly for you.

Damn. More sinful thoughts.

Luckily, Heeseung interrupted the spiral going in your head when he pointed ahead to the spot he had mentioned earlier. “It’s right there,” he said, his voice light and soft. “We won’t take too long, okay?”

And then, he gave you the most beautiful smile your eyes had ever captured.

You were so screwed.

There was no other way to put it: you were starting to enjoy having Heeseung around a little too much. The reactions, the smiles, the chivalry, it was strongly getting to you. He had just held the door open for you, walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk, and pulled out your chair while offering to grab whatever you wanted to eat.

Sure, part of it was the bare minimum, but there was no denying that receiving all this without asking, without having any deeper connection beyond being colleagues, left you flustered. It felt special, as though Heeseung’s gentlemanly gestures were more deliberate and sincere simply because they were directed at you.

“Heeseung, you’re not paying for my–”

“Shh,” he gently hushed you, shaking his head as he looked down at you. He was still standing after insisting you sit while he took care of your order. “You can’t wear yourself out, Y/N. Remember: your lecture’s in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty-four minutes.”

You gave him a deadpan look and rolled your eyes, silently but surely mastering the art of hiding how affected you actually felt. Your heart had suddenly learned a new frantic rhythm, one that uncontrollably drummed against your rib cages as if it wanted to break free, ringing in your ears. 

“Fine, fine,” you finally gave up, your voice showing your surrender. “But at least let me–”

“No,” Heeseung refused again, this time gently pushing your hands down, which were holding the credit card you had just fished out of your bag. “Tell me what you want.”

After a sigh, you made your request – the simplest thing you could think of, since you were hungry, but the nervousness about your upcoming lecture left you slightly nauseous.

It was a session you had given before, but it always managed to trigger some anxiety. The lecture was open to the entire department, not just a specific class, as part of the mandatory hours – for either you and the students – where you would teach for an hour and a half on a selected topic.

While Heeseung prepared both bowls of ramen and fetched the drinks, you took the brief moment alone to review your notes on your phone. The book you had grabbed earlier as a prop for your blatant lie in the faculty lounge was now abandoned on the extra chair at your table.

Your focused expression was unmistakable, your eyes scanning the chaotic notes that only you could make sense of, notes that would somehow translate into coherent, eloquent words once you started speaking, shining in your element.

From a distance, Heeseung paused mid-way to take you in as well to inhale deeply, his shoulders visibly relaxing from the palpable tension that always seemed to grip him whenever you were near, but his hand still held a remnant of the nervous sweat. 

Inviting you to lunch had been planned in advance in his head, yet it didn’t stop his heart from missing beats when it actually happened, especially after you accepted, making him wonder if having a heart attack was anything like that feeling.

Beyond that, your cheeky words wrapped in confident compliments occupied a special place in the atmosphere surrounding you two, fanning the flames of unease that already simmered within him.

He had spent days counting the chances he might have to carve out time in his own schedule to ask you out, carefully calculating a way to avoid inconveniencing either of you. The courage to invite you outside of work hours wasn’t fully there yet.

He didn’t even have your number!

Heeseung decided to start slowly, taking baby steps. Nonetheless, the blatant flirtation from the other day still echoed in his mind, sending him spiraling into endless thoughts – or perhaps towards the obvious conclusion.

Did you want to get to know him better? What were your intentions? After a candid conversation with Sunghoon, who confirmed that flirting wasn’t your typical behavior with coworkers, Heeseung couldn’t shake the notion that something lingered in the air whenever you two interacted. It was an unspoken tension, like a cloud of silent words revealing something deeper, hidden just beneath the surface.

As usual, you looked stunning, completely immersed in your work while pouring every ounce of effort into being an excellent teacher. Heeseung had come to admire this about you.

He silently hoped you wanted him the way he had started wanting you – something more than friendship, something closer. You were kind and confident, dedicated and beautiful. Falling for you would be effortless.

If luck was on his side, this lunch would mark the first step towards the connection he longed to build with you.

As he approached, he couldn’t help but notice the faint unease clouding your otherwise captivating expression. It didn’t detract from your beauty, instead stirred a quiet desire within him to ease your worries.

“Relax,” he murmured softly, careful not to startle you, as he placed the steaming bowls of ramen and drinks on the table. You glanced up, your posture loosening as you leaned back in your chair. “You’ll do great.”

And there it was again, that effortlessly charming smile.

Heeseung took his seat across from you, leaning forward to start sipping his ramen since he was very hungry himself. His eyes crinkled slightly as they met yours, radiating warmth and tenderness, unmatching your keen gaze that followed the movement of his lips curving into a pout as he ate.

The problem was that, this time, you couldn’t hold your tongue about his beautiful grin.

“You have a really nice smile, Heeseung.”

And the reaction was instant. He choked, coughing into his hand as you giggled mischievously, quickly pushing his drink closer so he could take a sip and regain his dignity. Heeseung’s face turned as red as a tomato, increasing the adoration in your eyes as you watched the way he struggled; something about giving compliments simply for the sake of breaking his composure became one of your favorite games to play. Besides, you really meant each of them. 

You could go for hours about the traces of Heeseung’s features, analyzing it like a delicate and dreamlike painting, the ones that felt surreal, nearly far to human reach. 

For a short amount of seconds, Heeseung forgot he was speaking to the person who was climbing the romantic-interest charts with immense potential, the one responsible for the erratic beats of his heart and the thoughts he preferred not to name just yet, and not some random friend of his.

The curse slipped from his sauce-stained lips in a soft murmur. “Damn it,” he quickly wiped the area with a napkin, recovering from his small choke before practically whining the next words. “You’ve gotta stop doing that.”

You hadn't expected that behavior at all, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. The wide-eyed look he gave you immediately, as if the realization hit him that he had acted more like a child than a man in front of you, only made your chest warm with affection. Ironically, Heeseung’s cheeks also flushed, heating in pure embarrassment.

He was lowkey thankful for the outfit choice, the turtleneck covering the flush of redness creeping up his neck towards his face and ears. 

You shifted in your seat, finally ready to dig into your food as the aroma made your stomach rumble.

“Sorry,” you took a bite of your ramen, offering a lopsided smile, not the least bit apologetic for making him lose his composure in front of you. “I can’t help it.”

Realizing that your gaze hadn’t changed towards him, and in fact, you seemed even more intrigued by what he could offer, Heeseung decided to be as genuine as possible, expressing his true essence,  one that teetered on the edge of something almost reverential.

It wasn’t as if he had other options in front of your mesmerizing presence, because even a simple “hello” from you, with your velvety voice as the backdrop, was enough to destabilize his body, causing his mind to short-circuit. Then, he became a jumble of disconnected words and behaviors that perfectly reflected his inner turmoil.

“You should at least try,” Heeseung murmured again, an underlying tone of faux sadness coloring his words. He avoided looking at you for too long; otherwise, it felt like the air would vanish from his lungs. “You know, so I can pretend to be really cool around you, and then you’ll fall for me.”

Heeseung wasn’t sure where the courage to throw out such a bold line came from, but he didn’t complain at first. However, the laugh that escaped you made him question whether it was the right move, hesitating at your reaction. But then your smile remained, subtle and affectionate, your eyes dripping with amusement until you spoke, in the same low, subtly husky, sensual tone that reflected part of your personality.

“It’s adorable to watch you all flustered, Heeseung,” you replied fearlessly, reading the script he once showed you without explaining, your confidence evident in every syllable as you chewed your food, maintaining eye contact without breaking. “It’s almost addictive.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, but the cheeky smile that threatened to escape betrayed his attempt to appear annoyed. He took a sip of his drink and looked at you seriously, though there was such obvious faking behind his gaze that you had to stifle a laugh, especially since he added a small pout after speaking.

Seriously, what an adorable man.

“I don’t think it’s funny at all.”

The warm atmosphere between you both created an interesting, comfortable dynamic that made you think about exploring different paths with him, maybe even inviting him to eat outside work hours. Despite the pleasant conversation, there was always the weight of your duties as teachers. The thought made you recall your next task with a quick inner jolt.

“Wow,” you looked at the time on your phone, your expression twisting into a mix of dread and nervousness before looking back at Heeseung, who was watching you with curiosity. “I need to go.”

It was strangely nice to see his face fall into something bordering on sadness, even though it fueled an impulse to drop all responsibilities and stay with him for the rest of the day, chatting away and definitely coaxing more shy reactions out of him.

“Sorry,” you said, this time meaning it. Gently, you reached for Heeseung’s hand resting on the table, covering it with yours. “I promise we can hang out more. Give me your number.”

Everything happened so quickly. The sudden touch, the promise of a future meet, the request for his number. Heeseung needed a few seconds to process the phone extended in his direction.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he said, reluctantly pulling his hand away to carefully write down his name and number in your phone before handing it back to you.

You found it amusing that he saved himself as “Lee Heeseung (college),” because you initially associated it with a college friend rather than a work one, which gave a youthful, almost nostalgic air, as though you two were young lovers rather than two mature adults about to venture down a different path beyond a mere friendship.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said as you stood up, the man following your movements for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He still had a few minutes before he had to head back. “For the food, the conversation, and for helping me relax.”

“Y-Yeah,” he mentally cursed himself for stuttering. “Anytime, Y/N.”

You gave him a small yet sincere smile before pausing almost completely, clutching your hands around your bag’s strap. Heeseung was standing there, eyes wide and round, watching you intently, his expression sweet as honey and his body waiting for... something.

There was no way to stop your own limbs from moving when you leaned forward lightly, enveloping Heeseung in a warm hug. “Thank you so much, Hee.”

And Heeseung could only hope you didn’t hear or feel the rapid beats of his heart when he held you back.

But you did.

Heeseung definitely wore a bolder persona through text. You believed his hands were still trembling as he sent the message, fingers glazing over the screen, searching for the best way to express what his flustered mind was trying to articulate, because countless times he seemed to delete and rewrite, hesitating before hitting send.

Despite that, it was so intriguing and sensual the way he let himself get carried away in the messages; from sweet good mornings followed by “can’t wait to see you today,” to “your outfit was stunning. I held myself back from hugging you a little longer,” implying he was slowly, yet surely growing hungrier from your touches. They were subtle phrases, perhaps innocent, but filled with an unspoken, looming desire.

At this point, it was undeniable that all you longed for was to kiss him, since the hugs that had become your usual greeting no longer satisfied the yearning to have him in direct contact with your skin. You wanted more. Much more.

“You’re suffocating me,” Heeseung mumbled against your chest, but made no effort to pull away from the position.

Yes. You were in quite a... compromising position.

You found him in the teachers' lounge, sitting at one of the chairs with his elbows propped on the smooth surface of the desk while reviewing some assignments, facial features sharpened due to the concentrated gaze and furrowed brows, although the faint pout gracing his lips softened the whole facade. 

Sunghoon had just left, greeting you with a sly smile and a wink, almost murmuring a “good luck, I’ll leave you two alone” in the most teasing way.

And it was in that very moment, when your sneaky presence entered the room, that your little plan began. Truth be told, there was no plan, just a spontaneous thought that hugging Heeseung while he was seated and you standing might be a nice touch – albeit a touch that was a bit too sultry for the work environment but would certainly reveal the mystery behind some of your insecurities and second thoughts. 

Did Heeseung flirt for his own pleasure, or was he too afraid to make a move? Because you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could wait.

“Sorry, my dear,” the endearment slipped out almost automatically, now as routine as the hugs, because to your delight, Heeseung always became embarrassed and cutely tried to avoid you when you called him that.

But who could he blame? Your honeyed voice saying the word always felt like a sweet, addictive shot to his chest.

You laughed when he groaned, pressing his face against the fabric of your blouse, pulling away ever so slightly enough for your hand to rest on his shoulder, his hand finding its way to your waist, looking up to make eye contact with you.

He wore gold-framed glasses that perfectly balanced his skin. Over the course of your conversations, a few subtle details had been revealed, like the fact that he was a little nearsighted but only wore glasses when he was too lazy to put in his contacts. And they were now slightly misplaced, giving him a ridiculously attractive air.

On top of that, he had chosen to wear suspenders that day, which only added to the innocent-boy look that made your heart tremble in a mild despair. It made you ache to ruin Heeseung in ways that were beyond comprehension, leaving him completely undone under your hands. 

And that created a bittersweet feeling within you, because Heeseung was somehow sweet and delicate, and all you could think of in moments like this was seeing him squirming in your bed.

Like. What the hell.

Vanishing the sinful stream of thoughts crossing your mind by subtly shaking it off, you smiled with a falsely angelic demeanor. A pang in your heart reminded you that those inappropriate ideas needed to disappear, because until Heeseung gave you the green light, you couldn’t take any bold actions. You had to keep your not-so-innocent instincts under control.

Your fingers lightly scratched at his scalp, making his pretty eyes flutter briefly and a soft sigh escape his lips, tinted with a pale shade of pink. Moments like this – when a sudden intimacy bloomed between the two of you – always brought with them an undeniable need to define what you were becoming or at least bring it to the table. Were you both on the same page?

“Ready to go?”

“Gimme just ten more minutes. I need to finish this,” Heeseung replied warmly, his gaze flickering towards the scattered papers on the desk.

His voice never rose around you, always soft and gentle, like you were something rare and delicate that deserved only the utmost care, you came to notice after a few interactions.

Following his line of sight, you let out a dramatic sigh, recognizing the template on the papers and sympathizing with his predicament.

“My deepest condolences,” you joked, patting his back lightly before stepping away to give him the space he needed to finish his work.

Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”

Taking the spare chair across the table, you rummaged through your bag for your phone to answer some emails and clear up a few pending tasks, working in silence to avoid disturbing him.

It was a Friday, and your plans involved dinner – a date you had invited him to, scheduled after the extended workday that surprisingly got dragged into the evening. It wasn’t a usual routine, but every so often, deadlines accumulated and students seemed to conspire to submit all their assignments at once, unnecessarily stressing the professors.

You had received your fair share of submissions earlier in the day, deciding to tackle them on Sunday. Tonight, your nerves were too tangled with excitement and anticipation about spending the entire evening with Heeseung.

Your so-called “dates” had so far been restricted to small windows of free time, with your schedules swallowing the possibility of meeting outside work. Lunchtime together had become almost expected – sometimes, a quick sandwich devoured in the span of ten minutes between breaks with Heeseung was enough to leave you happy for an entire day.

Still, whispers floated through the hallways, pointing at how students had started to pay close attention to your interactions. The lingering touches on arms, shy smiles, and starry eyes hadn't gone unnoticed. One student even mentioned Heeseung’s name during your class under the guise of linking it to something he taught, only to admit they were curious about your reaction.

And it had been priceless.

At any given time, Heeseung would be the source of your expression brightening instantly, your posture straightened as if on command, and your hand reflexively fixing any rogue strand of hair.

However, there was no reason for you to bask into that type of spotlight. Even though you carried yourself with confidence and shared openly about clinical and professional experiences with your students, believing practical examples enriched the theory, there were limits. And that line was drawn sharply when it came to your personal and romantic life.

You had particular tastes, ones not every man could embrace or accept at all. This was why you approached Heeseung with such caution – biting around the edges not to burn your tongue, to avoid ruining everything.

But something within you screamed, loud and clear, that he might be the one. Or, at the very least, someone willing to occupy a space where both of you could thrive.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke through your spiral of thoughts with almost painful gentleness. Heeseung was always so soft, so sweet. Ugh.

“Yes?” You lifted your gaze, confused, only to find him smiling faintly.

“You were zoning out,” he pointed out, and only then did you notice the desk had been cleared, his work neatly organized. “Something on your mind?”

Yes. You.

“No,” you quickly shook your head, preparing to stand, but Heeseung’s hand stopped you, his warm touch wrapping over your fingers.

“If you’re having second thoughts about going out, we can always reschedule,” he began cautiously, his tone betraying a flicker of hesitation. “I mean, if you’re not feeling up to go out with me–”

“No!” You denied it so quickly it sounded desperate, your chest tightening at the sensation of his warm palm on yours. “Of course not! I invited you, and I really, really want to go, Hee,” clearing away his doubt took priority number one, and without even realizing it, the words left your lips in a voice both firm and gentle. “I really want to spend time with you. Outside of work. Just the two of us. On a date. Okay?”

Heeseung noticed how you had been absent for several minutes, your gaze distant as it lingered on a spot on the table, making him wonder if there was something there he couldn’t see – maybe his glasses needed a stronger prescription or something. But no, you were just lost in thought, and reading you like that stoked the uncertainty, hesitation eating his confidence away. 

He had accepted your invitation immediately, because he wanted to go out with you more than anything. Maybe the night would end with a few kisses exchanged in his car and, perhaps – hopefully –, something more.

But any hint of hesitation from you made his confidence waver unexpectedly, even if you weren’t truly unsure. If he knew the real reason behind your sudden distance, he would understand why your mind had wandered. And could even drive you through it willingly. 

Nevertheless, once you reassured him it rekindled the invisible threads of hope that had been flickering to waver, easing the tensed nerves of his body and bringing a relieved smile to his face.

With a soft squeeze on your hand, he whispered, praying not to fumble since he just realized you called it a date and his heart chose to perform acrobatics, flipping somersaults in his chest.

“Shall we?”

The dinner was wonderful, relatively early but lovely, carried with comfortable chats and hands searching for each other. Then Heeseung suggested a walk to a nearby park so you could enjoy ice cream together, blushing furiously as he gave the idea for thinking it might be a bit cheesy and silly. 

You loved it. You loved ice cream.

You strolled for a while, leisurely, with no rush, exchanging words, sharing thoughts, and flirting subtly – some moments that even left you flustered, stirring fumbles and stutters that Heeseung stated internally it was his personal favorite side of you.

You heard him talk about the anxieties he felt at work, being newly hired and dealing with the pressures was definitely a struggle. So you shared what calmed you amid chaos, hoping something could ease his worries as much as it did for yours. Other than that, you offered your presence and listening for whenever he felt like venting out. He thanked you with a pretty smile. You nearly stumbled on your feet. 

And just like that, the next date was decided. A quiet, but certainly personal one: Sunday at your place, correcting the remaining assignments and hanging out the rest of the evening.

Then, before you both could reach the bench where you planned to sit, your ice cream nearly finished since you were a slow eater, Heeseung suddenly stopped and looked at you. Confused, you mimicked his motion and asked with worry, “Something’s wrong?”

When your eyes met, you recognized a glint of desperation and longing, an unspoken anticipation for something you didn’t know yet, but it ignited the same ache in your chest.

Your heart raced uncontrollably when Heeseung took a step forward, its thump-thump echoing in your ear like a distant thunder when he slowly, but surely closed the distance between you both.

The moonlight illuminating your faces became a silent accomplice, your gazes, heavy with unshed confessions, translating what either of you failed to articulate.

Heeseung let out a sigh, the delicate sound escaping his lips like a subtle breeze to caress your skin, before slowly running his tempting tongue over the curve of his mouth. Your eyes darted towards it, as though a magnetic pull drew your attention to the area without leaving control for you.

Your surprise was written all over your face, yet it faded quickly, when Heeseung leaned in even closer, his presence drawing you into a bubble where the rest of the world no longer existed. The surroundings turned into a blur, an ethereal fog wrapping you two in a cocoon of warmth and soft tension.

As his hand reached up to caress your cheek, there was a moment of hesitation, an unspoken uncertainty lingering in the air between you. His fingers brushed gently over your skin with a feather-light touch, as though testing the waters, while his eyes flickered through your features, marveling with attention.

His other hand, however, settled firmly on your waist, pulling you closer and anchoring you in place. The pressure was subtle and unmistakable, making your breath get caught in your throat.

“I want to kiss you,” under the stars, Heeseung confessed.

The air thickened, the last piece of the ice cream cone promptly dropping to the ground because you were too busy searching for physical contact; your fingers traced an invisible line across Heeseung’s chest, covered by the light dress shirt, until they found comfort on his broad shoulders.

“I want to kiss you too,” with a genuine mutuality, built slowly through the weeks and now finally transformed into words, you eased the weight on your chest.

It was different to simply think and to verbalize. Putting into words made it real. It showed the vulnerability hidden behind the idealization, working as a strong grounding where you, so far, feared to walk in. But Heeseung wanted to go with you just as much.

A gentle, relieved smile graced the corner of his mouth and made you mirror it almost automatically, as if the relationship created through the days synched into an admirable connection where your bodies worked together, unison. 

Eye contact remained as quiet promises hanged in the air, until your eyelids grew heavy, emotions swirling inside you and overpowering the last fragments of reasoning. The distance between you deliberately shrank, and you briefly savored the soft touch of Heeseung’s uneven breath as his parted lips grazed over yours, as a silent invite for you to meet him mid-way.

And you did. 

Heeseung was fully tense now, body quivering slightly as desperation swallowed his capacity to think straight; he could feel his hands trembling on your jawline and waist, goosebumps covering his entire being.

Touching your lips felt like embracing a plush, fluffy cloud, caressing his flesh with care and tenderness. It was delightful, carrying a warmth of affection he had never experienced with anyone else.

The very first contact was experimental, a delicate pull to ease the foreign encounter of skins, but held a trace of purpose that conveyed the inner turmoil happening inside. For short seconds you backed away, your lips ajar, silently expressing neediness that led you to lean in once more, diving into kissing Heeseung properly, because the fleeting meet wasn’t enough for you. You yearned more. 

When your tongues brushed against each other after a bold move coming from you, Heeseung groaned, the shock coursing through his body was indescribable. If he had to find words to express, he would choose the idea of a surge of electricity at the highest voltage, yet without pain or discomfort but definitely intense as such. On the contrary, it seemed to soothe every fragile piece of his soul with subtle firmness – a graceful, beautiful, and gentle contrast.

Waves of unfamiliar sensations filled your chests like butterflies dancing joyously to the rhythm you slowly unveiled together, flooding you two with a sense of “finally” that resonated louder than anything else in that moment.

Finally, you discovered the taste you craved the most; Heeseung's mouth tasted like strawberries. And devotion. It blended with the flavor of caramel melting on your tongue, a sweet and addictive mix. It bordered on surreal, like utopian dreams, unreachable, and definitely intoxicating.

While Heeseung finally discovered the softness of your lips, the delicate curve of it driving his instincts to deepen the kiss eagerly, his fingers tightening on your waist as if afraid you might slip away.

He wasn’t going to let go. Neither were you.

The world outside completely fell away. The few things that mattered and you could focus on was the heat of Heeseung’s touch, the pressure of his tongue against yours, and the frantic pace of your heartbeats intertwining together. The kiss wasn’t simply a kiss anymore, it was the culmination of all the unspoken tension, all the longing that had been building between you. A promise under the moonlight that was finally being kept.

Breathing was becoming a difficult task as the seconds passed, so you had to reluctantly break the contact, but only enough to catch your breath, your foreheads gently resting on each other.

Your eyes remained closed, heavy due to the adrenaline rushing your veins relentlessly, your pulse wildly pounding as though it aimed to set fire to your skin. It was as if the weight of tons had lifted off your shoulders, soothing your soul with an uneven calm, even though your body now burned with desire, claiming for more. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, felt like he had stepped into a new world, unbelieving of what had just happened. Breaking the blissful chaos happening inside, he breathed out a giggle, the sound both turning the dreamlike sensation into a tangible emotion and causing you to flutter your eyes open.

You leaned back ever so slightly to find him with an adorable expression, one that exuded sincerity, need and something similar to disbelief. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, feeling your cheek flush with a sudden shyness as the tips of your fingers started to wander around the silky strands of Heeseung’s hair, trailing random patterns, which drew a sigh from him.

Heeseung leaned into the touch when you cupped his face with one palm before he shook his head, the movement causing your noses to nuzzle against one another due to the proximity, and his glasses to tilt off a little. Then his smile widened, another delicate giggle gifting your hearing and your sight, since his two hooded eyes turned into small crescents behind the transparent lenses. 

“I'm kinda not believing that we just kissed,” he whispered quietly on your lips. You deliberately licked them, exhaling a chuckle at his adorableness.

Another shaky sigh escaped Heeseung, the edge of his ears turning into a crimson shade and the skin beneath your fingers warming noticeably.

“Yeah?” A small, amused smirk played on your mouth, your voice dropping to a low tone, bordering on sultry as your eyes rose, seeking the contact you so loved to maintain; those two beautiful chocolate orbs held yours, drawing you in with pure affection. “Does it feel unreal?”

Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened when you boldly, yet slowly brushed your thumb on his bottom lip, leaving no room for answers because he was falling apart, crumbling under your intensity. He then prevented you from the beautiful scenery of his glimmering eyes oozing you once he closed them to enjoy your touch.

A soft hum escaped his throat, a subtle response to the question hanging in the air that sounded a little extra sensual to your ears, a noise that definitely had no right to spasm a heat down your core.

Heeseung’s head moved slightly with a silent nod afterwards, as if to say he didn’t have the proper words to explain how out of this world, how overwhelming kissing you felt.

“Then kiss me again, Heeseung,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, lips teasingly grazing over his. Heeseung's heart stuttered, his breath faltering. “Kiss me again, and maybe it'll start to feel real.”

For a fleeting moment, hesitation flashed in his eyes as he opened them. His hungry gaze flickered between your parted, inviting lips and the anticipation burning in your stare. Had he heard you right? Did you truly want this again – want him?

You caught the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, the grip on your waist tightening, almost possessive, though beneath it lay his tensed uncertainty. His other hand remained where it was, cradling your face with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of his hold, sending an unbidden shiver cascading down your spine.

But it was your expectant, eager eyes, glowing with nothing but unfiltered desire that shattered his doubts. There was no fear, no reluctance, not even the slightest trace of insecurity coming from you. Just raw, unspoken, confident want. One more kiss. Just one more.

And so, he claimed your mouth, capturing your lower lip between his, sucking on it with a fervent need as his eyes fluttered shut – and so did yours. A soft, breathy smack echoed when he finally released it from the grasp of his own plush lips, waiting for your next decision.

A rush of warmth spread between you as your mouth searched for his instinctively, to deepen the rhythm with the passion intensifying and the pace quickening. Your tongues intertwined in a seamless dance, a newfound hunger guiding how they moved.

The hand that once caressed you wavered for a second before gliding down to your waist, fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him. The friction was subtle, but enough to steal the breath from your lungs, a gasp getting lost amidst the kiss.

Heeseung was starting to show signs of a deeper yearning, a need darker and unexplored, untouched up until this moment, but still restraining himself, an inner fight unveiling before you both. 

The discrepancy in his actions laid bare the true, fractured side of his divided desire – caught between surrendering to the primal instinct to kiss you over and over again with reckless abandon, without stopping, and the struggle to control himself, to rein in the sheer force of his craving.

But if he lost himself on you, you wouldn’t mind, not when he kissed you like this; so fiercely, so feverishly. It was intoxicating the way Heeseung devoured you with such raw need, as if this was everything, his only want, his only need, the very essence of his happiness.

The two of you clung to each other with an almost desperate tenderness at this point, as if feeling the warmth of the other’s skin was the only thing tethering you to reality – as if this simple touch carried the last breath of joy, of desire, of life itself.

You sighed into his mouth, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, drawing a delicious groan from deep within his chest. The sound alone sent a spark of pleasure coursing through you and you thanked for the tight grip on your hips, otherwise you would probably fall.

Your other hand clutched the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be able to anchor you away from the reality unfolding inside your brain; one that definitely didn’t stop there, in the middle of an open public space. 

Heeseung reacted instantly, angling his head to kiss you better, to give you the best, his lips moving with a fervor that made your entire body buzz with the type of heat you started to wish to live forever with. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, panting for air, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping you as if afraid to let go, enjoying how you held his body just as close, fearing the same. 

His hooded and dazed gaze bore into yours, layered with something you couldn’t pinpoint precisely. Not before he murmured with his hoarse voice, taunting your next move. “Still feels unreal.”

You let out a breathy laugh, a feigned scoff due to his sudden shameless demeanor. Your fingertips traced the sharp line of his jaw before settling against his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss; Heeseung deduced you liked to do that, playing with his sanity enough to drift his soul towards the edge of losing it completely. 

“Then maybe,” you purred, tone laced with mischief. “We should try again. Just to make sure.”

Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening, matching yours. He whispered back. 

“But not here.”

Heeseung had noticed the way you had practically devoured him with your gaze all afternoon, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.

Well, maybe not all afternoon, but at some point it seemed like you had grown bored of your responsibilities and decided to entertain yourself. How?

It didn’t matter if Heeseung was rambling about dull, tedious things, like students handing in papers filled with blatantly copied textbook answers despite his request for originality. Somehow, you managed to derail his thoughts into dangerous territory.

“Ugh, such a drag, right?” You had responded at the end of his rant, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout as your fingers idly traced along the fabric of his thin sweater, feigning comfort – an excuse to touch him.

Or when he asked for a glass of water, and you returned with his order and… A lollipop between your lips, absently rolling the red-tinted candy over your tongue while pretending to focus on your assignments, casually seated on the floor of your living room as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

And now, when he had simply asked for the bathroom’s location, you had replied, “Last door down the hall, right next to my room.”

There was something so subtle, yet unmistakably deliberate about the way you had emphasized my room, your voice laced with a suggestive tone to make it sound like an unspoken invitation. As if you wanted to plant the thought in his mind – no, better: dare him to wonder where exactly your room was. More precisely, where your bed was.

And it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t want you in that way. Of course he did. Ever since Friday’s kiss you had been the only thing occupying his thoughts. He had lost track of time on Saturday, running late to his own commitments, the once carefully maintained routine slipping through his fingers like sand.

You were unraveling him, piece by piece, effortlessly pulling his existence into your orbit, making his sanity wane with an alarming ease.

Now Heeseung found himself standing in the bathroom, unsure of how to step back out, his fumbling fingers disheveled his dark hair. 

No, the door wasn’t stuck, nor had any accidents occurred during his time there, he was just frustrated and flustered. 

He had lost count of how many times he had leaned over the sink to splash cold water on his face, desperately attempting to ease his nerves, which instinctively tightened at the thought of returning to a closed space with you and your brazenly, shamelessly flirts. What the hell had he gotten himself into with a woman this confident and irresistible?

You, who already carried an enviable self-assurance, were completely in your element. This was your home – you knew every inch of it, and no doubt you could use props to tease Heeseung in ways that would drive him to the brink, just like the fucking lollipop.

If he closed his eyes, the sinful image of your lips wrapping around the candy’s pink tip, sucking with an unbearable slowness, would replay like a cursed mantra – a damn film he couldn’t turn off, the screen stuck on an endless loop inside his restless mind.

It was ironic how naturally and effortlessly your relationship had unfolded… until that one defining kiss.

It felt like those tender embraces – even the ones laced with playful, wandering hands, or the moments when you deliberately hugged him while he was seated, letting his face nestle into the softness of your chest innocently – were the only thing keeping the raw, untamed desire restrained.

But the moment your lips met, the next step became far more tangible; the possibility of ending the day in your bedroom hung in the air, now more than ever thickening the space between you with an unmistakable tension.

On Friday, after deciding to head back to his car under the pretext of finding more privacy, you did exchange a few more touches, none of them pure. The moment you dared to move onto his lap, however, was when Heeseung drew the line.

“Not tonight,” he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks. 

And you respected his words without hesitation, nodding in understanding before sealing the moment with one last tender peck, your eyes dripping with fondness because that’s what Heeseung awakened in you: an equal blend of desire and deep affection, a craving to take care of him in every possible way.

The problem was: he wished it had been that night. That “tonight” that had already passed.

Heeseung ached for you to take him completely, just as he longed to claim you in return. Your delicate hands would probably fit perfectly around his length. Your soft lips would push him further into madness. And your gaze, always so confident and unwavering, would turn even more sultry behind closed doors, leaving him on the verge of collapse.

Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh, panicking once more, his pulse quickening. He would surrender to you in a heartbeat. No hesitation. If the mere feeling of your lips against his had sent him straight to heaven, he could only imagine what the rest of you could do.

There was this one small detail gnawing at his self-assurance, unraveling it into waves of anxiety that threatened to throw his entire system off balance. It had nothing to do with you directly, it was solely about him and his own perspective on sex. 

Heeseung valued his partner’s pleasure equally to his own. He firmly believed that both should enjoy the unique and intimate sensations a night of passion could bring. However, his own pleasure was far more… passive. Submissive, even. Would you be okay with that? Would you make fun or give up when he decides that you should take control? 

God. Everything becomes a spiral inside his head.

On the other hand, you were patiently waiting for his return, nonetheless your brain was playing tricks to the same extent.

Neither of you had brought up the kiss on Saturday, exchanging only brief messages, both too caught up in your own routines. And when Heeseung showed up at your doorstep for your “professor duties date” with the natural charming smile, greeting him with anything beyond a warm grin and a casual, “Welcome, make yourself at home,” felt oddly improper – even though you had noticed his fingers twitching on his sides, as if anticipating something more from you.

The urge to throw yourself into his arms and ruin him in the most alluring way possible tingled beneath your skin for the rest of the day, your chest hurting with raw need for him.

There was no logical explanation for the effect Heeseung had on you. If you dig to try, you would find mixed conclusions such as those impossibly big, affectionate eyes that stayed locked on you with an almost angelic aura, soaking in every word you spoke with attention and also stirring the deepest profanity thoughts to ever exist.

Or how he had to wet his lips with a frequency that threw your self-control out of the window, now knowing how they taste, only serving as a teasing motion for you to gather more and more arousal and need over them.

Or perhaps, just the remarkable way he was the perfect gentleman around you, treating you as a queen who deserved everything you wanted.

Delaying the conversation or actions felt equally as right as it did utterly wrong. But what struck you the most was realizing that this wasn’t you – at least, not the you that you knew. 

You didn’t shy away from challenges, never made excuses to escape a situation, nor avoided conversations that could either lead you exactly where you wanted to be or leave you in shambles. And maybe that was the thing about Heeseung – he dismantled your integrity, unsteadying your footing, weakening the very foundation of who you were.

He made you do things that never belonged to your usual repertoire, because, with ridiculous ease, he had melted a piece of your heart just enough to make space for himself. And you let him.

That was why, when Heeseung finally gathered the courage to step back into the living room, you didn’t even give yourself the chance to notice his timid posture, the way he initially avoided looking at you. The words left your lips like a bullet from a gun after holding the trigger for far too long.

“Heeseung, I want you.”

The room fell silent. A big pause before anything else happened. 

He hadn’t expected the confession. Nor had he expected to find you standing there, visibly waiting for him just to say it out loud. He lifted his gaze only to be met with the very woman who had been haunting his thoughts – the one who was always so sure of herself, so fucking intoxicatingly aware of what she wanted. 

And he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine when you took a step forward. Then another. And another. Until you were right there, face to face, breath to breath, heat to heat.

Your jaw was clenched, the tension betraying the firm decision you had already made. Your eyes burned, dark with intent, and Heeseung  felt himself shrink under your presence, overwhelmed by the so commanding atmosphere you carried. And yet, despite the way his body tensed, his pulse quickened, his breath grew ragged, he felt himself growing painfully eager. Painfully hard.

Because this was exactly what he liked.

The air between you thickened, heavy with a quiet-loud anticipation. The only sound filling the space was the uneven rhythm of your breathing, tangled together, syncing, feeding into the tension neither of you dared to break. You remained steady, firm. Heeseung, on the other hand, felt his skin prickle, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. God, you were so, so unbearably sexy.

His eyes traced your features as if committing them to memory, memorizing every curve, every line, as though he would later etch them into a canvas in silent admiration. And you were doing similar. But then he noticed something. You were holding back.

Your hands, still hanging at your sides, twitched with a restless itch to reach for him, but an invisible boundary you refused to cross without permission restrained you.

So you leaned in closer, sealing the final sliver of space between you. Your forehead pressed against Heeseung’s, noses barely brushing as your breath mingled in the heated air between you. Your lashes fluttered shut, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you pleaded, “Please… tell me you want me too.”

And that was it. That was the moment Heeseung shattered. Every last ounce of hesitation, every lingering doubt, was cast aside like it had never existed in the first place.

“Please,” he echoed, though his voice trembled, thick with something raw, desperate.

Your eyes snapped open, searching his face as confusion flickered across your features. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze fully, taking in the sight of him; his slightly furrowed brows, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark, blown-out eyes bore into yours, brimming with hunger, longing, surrender.

“Please,” Heeseung whispered again, his grip tightening as he took your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours as if grounding himself in the touch. His eyes briefly dipped downward, to the sight of your intertwined hands as if it were something sacred. “I want you. So fucking much.” His voice was nearly a whimper now, thick with emotion, aching with need.

Then, slowly, Heeseung lifted your hands to his flushed cheeks and positioned them there, his own covering yours to make sure you wouldn’t let go, as he let the heat of his skin seep into your palms.

He shuddered beneath your fingertips, his breath stuttering as he leaned into the warmth you offered so freely. “Touch me,” he said within a breath, yet laced with craving, coaxing you to do so. “Use me…”

Heeseung melted into your touch like a man starved, nuzzling into your palm before pressing a soft, tender kiss to the center of it. A shiver ran down your spine at the way his lips brushed against your skin, like he was worshiping the moment, like he was silently begging for more.

And something inside you twisted, a sharp pang of affection and want so intense it left you breathless, your pulsing core now demanding some attention. This wasn’t quite what you had expected, but the way Heeseung looked at you, as though you were something divine, as if he was ready to kneel at your feet and offer himself up without a second thought, sent a wild rush of heat through your veins.

Then, locking his gaze with yours, pupils dark, blown wide and heavy with lust, he delivered the ultimate, the final spark to the fire.

“Make me yours.”

And fuck, you would.

To say your lips merely connected would be an understatement. Heeseung jolted slightly at the force with which you yanked him forward, meeting you halfway as you leaned in, sealing your mouths together in a kiss that was both lustful and unrelenting. The slow, deliberate contact created soft, intoxicating noises, your faces moving in perfect harmony to deepen the moment; the fading sugary taste of your lollipop dissolving slowly on Heeseung’s tongue.

Your bodies slotted together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their rightful place. The hands that had once cradled Heeseung’s face, now traced a heated path down his neck before threading into his hair, fingertips grazing his skin with intent. Instinctively, his own hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he pulled you flush against his warmth, as if needing you impossibly closer.

A quiet sigh slipped past your lips as Heeseung’s hands dug into your waist, boldly searching for bare skin so his fingers could start to explore better the curves of your body; the same old possessive grip holding you in place although you guided the entire of the kiss. He was letting you decide the pace, when and where he had the freedom and openness to move his tongue and suck your bottom lip.

Realizing how firm and claiming Heeseung was pushing you towards his body elicited an immediate shiver down your spine, your skin flaming hot, a warmth that was definitely palpable; Heeseung’s own state wasn’t much different, as heat coiled around you.

It was only when your lungs screamed for relief that you both pulled away, but Heeseung was utterly lost, desperate to continue feeling your warmth. He pressed wet, heated kisses down your neck, each one more urgent than the last. He longed to explore every inch of your smooth flesh, craving to discover what made you tremble with desire, focused solely on filling you with pleasure.

“Did you figure out where my room is?” The question left you in a breathless whisper, laced with suggestion, a sharp inhale breaking into a muffled groan when Heeseung sank his teeth into a tender spot on your neck before pulling back to meet your gaze.

Your eyes searched for his, dark and hooded, your faces hovered over each other’s, both caught in a slow, tantalizing rhythm – a tease, a challenge, neither closing the distance completely. His bangs, completely off place, brushed softly against your forehead. 

“So it was intentional?” Heeseung murmured skeptically, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk, his lips flushed and kiss-bruised. He was simply putting the pieces together, waiting for confirmation.

You didn’t bother hiding your wicked grin. “Not exactly. I just took a shot in the dark to see if it would pay off,” you purred, leaning in to catch his lower lip between your teeth before adding, “And judging by your reaction…” You dragged your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, savoring the way his breath hitched. “I think you’ve got the idea.”

Heeseung huffed a chuckle, “Then…” His words trailed off as his gaze flickered from your swollen lips to your piercing stare. You noticed his voice dropping an octave, taking on a dangerously alluring tone as he continued. “Should I show what I’ve learned, teacher?”

He watched as something unspoken flashed in your eyes for the briefest of moments when he called you that, his tone thick with sensuality; it was as though the roles had reversed, and now he was the one playing the provocateur.

You didn’t bother hiding how your body reacted to the murmured word, your breath visibly faltering, the hairs at the nape of your neck standing on end. But you never wavered. Your commanding stance remained unwavering, like a tree rooted so deeply that not even the fiercest storm could bring it down.

And there was something about that unshakable composure of yours that drove Heeseung absolutely insane. Only then did he realize he wouldn’t be able to maintain his role as the tease for much longer, not when you, in the most tantalizing way, flashed a side grin, wetting your lips with a slow, torturous motion, silently emphasizing that you could ruin his existence completely with ease – and he would relish every second of it.

“I like your confidence,” you murmured, raising an eyebrow, eyes dripping with a perfect blend of amusement, daring, and pure, raw desire. Heeseung’s breath came ragged, waiting. “I’d like to see you try, though.”

This wasn’t about the way to your bedroom anymore.

Unlike you, Heeseung did back down from certain challenges, knowing his limitations. And he definitely had no desire to push you just to test your limits – at least not that night. All he craved was the bare, unfiltered contact of your skin within the four walls that enclosed your bed. 

And that single realization fueled his next actions. His hands lowered to your ass, gripping firmly before hoisting you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

The kiss that followed was messy, because Heeseung refused to close his eyes – he didn’t trust himself not to trip along the way. You let out quiet giggles in between the feverish exchange, finding it utterly endearing how he struggled to kiss you back while also staying focused enough to walk.

The position made you keenly aware of something hard pressing against your clothed cunt; Heeseung’s growing state sent a pulse of heat surging through you, a natural clench on your walls being an indicator of your own condition.

With precise movements, you both reached your final destination. Your body ached for the comfort of your bed, ready to embrace your back… if only Heeseung hadn’t sat at the edge of the mattress with you still straddling him, offering you full control over what came next.

The kiss finally deepened with proper intent, tongues brushing slowly, melting into a molten blend of warmth and desire. Your hands framed Heeseung’s face, holding him in place, guiding him to move exactly as you pleased.

His grip on your ass slackened, shifting from possessive control to a softer hold, simply keeping you steady so you wouldn’t slip.

Your hips began rolling forward, seeking friction through the layers of fabric separating you. The movement drew a low, needy sound from Heeseung, who instinctively pressed you down against him, encouraging the rhythm.

Tired of the teasing, you let your lips wander down to his neck, claiming the sensitive skin that shuddered beneath your touch. The deliberate pace at which you explored him mirrored how his body slowly reclined with you pushing ever so slightly to sink it into the mattress, until Heeseung was completely laid out under you, at your mercy.

A devilish grin ghosted over your lips when it dawned at you the alignment you both had settled; perfectly sitting on top of the man who clearly revealed his opposition to hold control, leaving space for your dominance to appear in full display. 

Your hand briefly cupped Heeseung's cheek as your teeth grazed his prominent Adam’s apple, gently sucking the spot to soothe any lingering sting. His throat’s bulge bobbed as a quiet sigh escaped him, the sound drawing your fingers lower, tracing the defined line of his collarbone. You felt the firm texture of his bone beneath your fingertips, as your hips moved over his unmistakable hardness.

Another pleasant sound filled the dimly lit room, signaling the deepening of the night. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the passionate moment unfolding between you. 

You kept the pace agonizingly slow with your hips, your hands never staying still, mapping every inch of Heeseung’s subtly muscular body that tensed with each of your touches, from his biceps to his covered chest, until they gradually slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his stomach tighten under your fingertips. 

It was undeniable that this was affecting you too, your body burning with yearning, aching to remove the last barrier keeping your bodies apart, even though they were already so close.

You were so fucking turned on by everything; the tantalizing noises Heeseung ever so often let out, how he had closed his eyes and furrowed his forehead, lips ajar with breathy, low groans passing through, utterly consumed by the moment.

By now your panties were beyond ruined, drenched in your leaking arousal, the fabric clinging to your pussy with every subtle shift. It urged your body to respond, to stimulate yourself even faster, though it lingered deeper in the sweet tormention of anticipation rather than pushing you towards your actual release.

The rub you guided was more than intentional; your clit pressing what you deduced was Heeseung’s tip in calculated circles, the rigidness of his length easing your rhythm as you rocked back and forth.

In search of an improved position, you lifted your torso, knees bent and pressed against the bed, slotting Heeseung’s hips between them, granting easy access for your nails to shamelessly wander over his stomach. You also found better support for yourself in this new angle.

It was only then that you realized Heeseung had released your waist, letting his arms relax, though his grip on the sheets remained obvious, his knuckles whitening with each more intense roll of your hips.

You were completely unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts Heeseung was struggling to suppress, the inner battle not to completely surrender, knowing that doing so would mean having his orgasm far too soon. His tightly shut eyes weren’t simply a reaction to the pleasure; they were a desperate attempt to control the terror of losing himself and ruining the moment. Clutching the sheets grounded some rational part in him. 

Realizing you wouldn't stop anytime soon had him making the embarrassing decision to state the obvious. So amid the deafening silence, broken only by the soft moans from both of you, Heeseung’s voice sliced through.

“If you keep going, then–” he cut himself off with a shaky moan, his body betraying his words as his hips jerked upward, desperate to meet your grinding. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grip your waist and force you to keep moving – a choice he made himself. “Then I won’t last…”

“Then don’t.”

His heavy eyelids fluttered open, pupils blown wide with dazed confusion after your quick, yet steady reply. The second he caught the silent demand in your eyes his breath hitched, and a shiver visibly ran through him. “What… What do you mean?”

A slow smirk curled on your lips as you laced your fingers around his wrists, pinning them to the mattress near his handsome face with enough force to act as a reminder. Your hips rolled forward, deliberate and unhurried, dragging out every friction-filled second. The heat between you was stifling, and you swore you could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered between your piercing expression and the maddening rhythm of your hips, his flushed cheeks only growing redder. His lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his beautiful round eyes open, his parted lips spilling out breathy whimpers, while you relished every second of it.

“You think you can cum just from me riding you fully clothed, Hee?” 

Your explanation came in the form of an ask, a very filthy, lustful guided question, your velvety tone cursing through his nerves, erasing the straight thoughts that struggled to keep existing inside his head, his self-control pathetically slipping through his inner grasp.

All Heeseung could see and feel was you, torturing his mind, pulling him deeper into the haze of overwhelming desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed a curse, head tipping back as his hands clenched into fists beneath your grip. You were unreal – his dream girl made flesh, effortlessly destroying him without even taking off a single layer of clothing. “Fuck, I definitely can, but–”

Another interruption with a beautiful whimper. Oh, you were enjoying it so much; were you in heaven? Or hell? Either way, you didn’t want to leave. 

“But…?” You urged smoothly with a mellow tone, even cocking your head to the side as if that would add a charm for your wicked character, because you, more than anyone, knew what your next decision would be.

As expected, a strangled moan escaped Heeseung when you pressed down harder, his body reacting before he could think, his back arching slightly as his expression crumbled in pleasure. 

Heeseung tried desperately to find any rational reason amid the flood of thoughts you had filled his head with – anything beyond the humiliating and obvious truth that he didn't want to reach to cum just yet.

“But I don’t have spare clothes here,” he concluded in one go, voice trembling with equal parts desperation and restraint, since he was going through a strong rush of delightful emotions. 

You hummed, amused by the fact that he could still manage to form a coherent thought in his current state. Leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, you whispered, “Fair point, Hee,” before releasing your grip on his wrist. “Shall we solve this little problem, then?”

Without waiting for a response, you pulled away, beginning to undress your upper body, tossing your shirt carelessly onto the floor. Heeseung remained frozen in place, his hooded eyes blinking slowly, staring at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering heat of your body against his, trying to process your words.

It wasn’t until you softly murmured his nickname that his attention snapped back to you, his gaze shifting from confusion to unapologetic hunger as it took in your fully exposed form.

The gasp escaped him before he could stop it, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at his immediate, spontaneous reaction. The warmth in your chest contrasted with the lustful heat guiding your actions and clouding your thoughts. Heeseung was too cute for your poor heart. 

“Damn,” Heeseung whispered after propping himself up on his elbows to take you in better, his eyes filled with awe as he admired your body while you approached.

His gaze traced every inch of your skin, the curves he had so often dreamed about touching, your beautiful boobs, often where he rested his cheeks within your usual hug, now laid bare in front of him, like a perfect canvas for him to finally savor.

Heeseung’s eyes stopped on your uncovered pussy, darting back to your legs every once in a millisecond as if he didn’t know where to look. You watched as he ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting it, almost as if entranced with you. 

The compliment that followed was engulfed in sincerity, leaving no room for doubt about it. And you smiled in response.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

It was common for you to receive compliments; you were aware of your beauty and felt confident in it. However, receiving a compliment from Heeseung felt different, somehow more special, because it came from someone you cared about and liked. 

You worried about being pretty in Heeseung’s eyes. 

Thanks to the soft light in your room, you didn’t have to explain why your cheeks had flushed, knowing that from the distance Heeseung wouldn’t be able to notice.

For a brief moment you thought you would have to tell him to occupy the same form as you – naked. But thankfully he understood the message loud and clear after eye-fucking your body for a while, sitting up to remove his shirt with his back turned to you. You took the opportunity to grab a condom from your nightstand.

Heeseung stood up to unbutton his belt and slip out of his jeans, which easily fell from his hips, leaving him in just his black underwear.

You already knew he had broad shoulders and a slim waist – some of his clothing choices certainly helped accentuate that discovery, and what a delightful one it was. Seeing it up close, nonetheless, had you indescribably overreacting.

The subtle muscles of his back flexed and tightened with each movement, having you clenching your cunt without even noticing. The smooth line of his spine was being accentuated by the blended dim light and silver-moonlight, which got your breath stuck in your throat; witnessing Heeseung undressing himself felt like visiting a museum, where a carved sculpture, chiseled by the gods with the softest, kindest, and most gifted hands of Olympus lived.

Your mouth watered with an unmistakable urge to bite and taste every inch of that lightly bronzed skin.

“God. And you’re a fucking sight,” you breathed, your words barely audible but filled with hunger.

Heeseung turned to look at you holding back a grin. Your eyes locked as now you sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for the little show to finish. Your mischievous smile revealed every single naughty thought that passed through your mind, and there was no shame in it.

You pressed your teeth on your bottom lip when you got a better view of his chest, your gaze leisurely roaming, taking in every tiny detail until they stopped at the bulge in his underwear. And there, your mouth salivated harder.

Heeseung remained still, relishing the way you openly admired him; the truth behind your ravenous eyes unveiled between the two of you, heightening the heat that was becoming nearly unbearable. It was clear how badly you desired him, and this had an undeniable effect on his cock, growing harder every second, pulsing with the need of some relief. 

Being adored wasn’t exactly something new to Heeseung, but he could certainly say that the way you expressed it stirred parts of him – parts he not only kept hidden from almost everyone, but was more than eager to explore with you.

And then, you purred, “Come here, hm?”

But instead of letting Heeseung come closer, you, yourself, shifted on the bed, moving onto all fours before deliberately crawling towards him, your gaze unwavering and charged, never breaking as you drew nearer. Heeseung was utterly stunned, gulping down the lump on his throat as he watched the unfolding filthy scene.

When you finally reached his handsome and ridiculously hot figure, you stopped, uplifting your torso to get on your knees and align perfectly with his height. Now face to face Heeseung finally let out the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding, his legs threatening to falter because, fucking shit, you, with your unyielding eyes and sexy demeanor, was tearing his resistance apart, breaking deliciously each part of his cohesive existence.

Oblivious to the actual state of Heeseung, your fingers reached out, barely ghosting over the sensitive flesh of his waist as you murmured extremely close to his ear, “Let me make you feel good.”

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze darkened, flickering between your neck and your bare boobs. For a second, he hesitated, hands halting mid-air because the tension between you two was nearly suffocating and he feared scaring you with his neediness.

Would it be okay to touch you, now that you were naked? What if he exceeded any silent boundaries he didn’t manage to catch?

Fuck. You looked so damn beautiful with the lunar glow against your skin, your gleaming eyes dripping with arousal and hunger as they roamed over his features when you leaned back, drinking in each quarter with care and attention. Heeseung felt seen, cherished even.

With the way your fingertips traced his abdomen simply to position your hands there, patiently waiting for a green sign, it quickly shattered whatever restraint he had left.

With a quiet, breathy groan Heeseung closed the gap, his hands finding your jawline, fingers pressing into your skin with a need so raw it sent shivers down your spine. You also moaned against his lips, his tongue searching for yours to deepen the contact.

By a not-so-gentle reminder of its painful neglect, Heeseung felt his sensitive dick twitch inside his underwear when you pushed him towards the bed, easily maneuvering his body to return to the previous position you both were in. Your thigh brushed exactly on his length and elicited an immediate moan.

But before you could settle on top of him with your lips still attached to each other, Heeseung broke away with an aching whisper, breathless.

“I’m so fucking hard.”

You lifted your head enough to meet his gaze, cocking it to the side in feigned confusion – you had heard him perfectly well. “Hm?”

He looked so cute, his brow furrowed and those wide eyes of his looking at you with longing, mixed with a trace of desperation. It was clear that the said desperation was only growing, becoming undeniable as he jerked his hips upwards, seeking contact with your bare pussy.

With a playful smile, you pushed yourself apart slightly, watching him groan in frustration; but even with the firm grip on your waist, he didn’t force you downwards. 

“Don’t make me wait longer…”

You raised an eyebrow, biting your lower lip as a thought crossed your mind. You had to test the waters of a conversation that had yet to be broached between the two of you  –  this was still your first night, after all.

“Where are your manners, Heeseung?”

Your voice held no real reprimand, but Heeseung couldn’t help feeling the urge to respond properly, just as much. He sighed a curse, the sound shaky as you hovered your lips over the abused skin of his neck.

“Fuck,” Heeseung had completely lost himself as you moved your hips to press against his without a warning, wincing due to the feel of your cunt so close, so deliberately teasing him, yet ridiculously distant.

His eyes squeezed shut, lips pursing tightly together in an effort to suppress the pathetic sounds threatening to escape. Heat rushed to his face, the flush of embarrassment coloring his skin as he realized how effortlessly you had taken control of him; the way you wore your behavior, so assertively and confident, was making him feel vulnerable in the best way possible. 

Heeseung’s voice cracked when he finally let out a frustrated but, crucially, submissive murmur. “Sorry… Please. Just don’t make me wait any longer– I need you. I’m so hard. Please…”

The waters had been tested, proving themselves warm and inviting. Heeseung responded well to your teasing and demeanor, his reactions fueling your confidence. So, you took the plunge, leaning in until your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear. 

“Good boy.”

A strange wave crashed through his body the moment his brain processed those syllables, piecing them together into a phrase that sent a jolt straight to his core. Good boy? Fuck. Heeseung barely managed to suppress a whimper, his muscles tensing as if trying to contain the way it unraveled him.

Being called that shouldn’t affect him so much, but how could he blame himself? You looked hot, sounded hotter, and the way you said it, so effortlessly sultry, made something in him snap. He realized then that he craved being your good boy more than he was willing to admit. If he weren’t so aware of his own self-destructive tendencies he would have half a mind to set your voice as his ringtone, only to hear it over and over. But he knew better. Knew he would end up ridiculously hard every time his phone rang.

Your wicked smirk told him everything – you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Enjoying the palpable control you had over his being, you leaned back just enough to catch the flicker of change on his flushed face. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, swimming with undivided attention and unspoken need. A heavy pulse throbbed beneath you, and instinctively, you clenched in response.

With a mocking tilt of your head, you let your voice drop to a sarcastic, almost bitter tone, “Let’s take off this last piece, shall we?” You motioned to his underwear, helping to remove it once he obeyed you. “I don’t want to make you wait any longer.” 

Heeseung grasped the scorn in words right away, the feigned sense of authority you offered hanging in the air and, ironically enough, elicited a breathy chuckle from his throat. 

It seemed Heeseung had finally found the woman he had always dreamed of – just as you felt a thrill coursing through your veins at the sight of a man so willing to accept your demanding behavior in the bedroom.

Your gaze dropped briefly to Heeseung’s lower body, eyes catching the sight of his cock standing angry and painfully hard, its impatience nearly palpable as it waited to be enveloped by your warmth. With a mental note to appreciate that part better later, you focused simply on putting the condom, jerking off a few times just to make sure it was right. 

Positioned just right, you aligned his leaking tip with your pulsing entrance, supporting yourself by pressing your hands firmly against his chest. The subtle brush of skin against skin had Heeseung letting out a shaky sigh, his hands that had once held your hips now rising to rest gently on your waist, trembling under the weight of anticipation.

He wasn’t just sensitive; he was on edge – nervous in more ways than one. He wasn’t sure how long he would last given the teasing foreplay, and with you pushing him to the brink, he wasn’t confident he would be able to go much longer than a few minutes. But the thing was, he wanted to last. He wanted to make a good impression, to show that he had the stamina and endurance to handle whatever you asked of him. He had lasted this long, so surely, he could hold on a little longer, right?

What he didn’t realize was that the idea of reaching the peak so quickly excited you just as much as the thought of lasting. Knowing that you could reduce him to the point where he would cum fast sent an odd, pleasurable thrill deep into your stomach.

Your eyes locked, Heeseung’s wide-round ones full of both eagerness and caution. Meanwhile, you maintained your poise, your charisma unwavering.

“Shit,” you muttered softly as you sank down, feeling him fill you completely.

You almost felt ridiculous for forcing your eyes to stay open, but you couldn’t help it.

To savor the sight of Heeseung’s lips slightly parted, his breath hitching as his lashes fluttered and his head tipped back was incomparable. The sight of his exposed, sweaty neck, the prominent Adam’s apple jutting out in an almost sinful way, was too much. Without realizing it, you clenched around him.

“Fuck,” Heeseung cursed back, trying to push you further down, hoping to reach the deepest part of you.

At first, you allowed him to guide you without resistance, the sensation of him fully inside you making a pleasurable sigh slip from your lips. But as Heeseung attempted to push you into movement without waiting for your adjustment you steadied yourself, securely resisting as a silent reminder. Just to make sure, you verbalized.

“Nuh-uh,” a mischievous grin curled your lips as you looked down at him, now with open eyes, pouting and frowning at you in a blend of frustration and confusion. “It’s cute how much you think you’re in control.”

His gaze faltered as your words fully sank in, the realization hitting him like a slow, delicious burn – he had absolutely idea what he had just gotten himself into. And, God, he wanted it. 

Of course, you would set the pace. Of course, you would call the shots. And him? He would take whatever you were willing to give. That’s what he deserved – what any man would be lucky to have. A woman like you, deciding exactly what to do with him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice small, almost shaky. As if repenting for his misstep, he hesitated before slowly removing his hands from where they had rested, leaving them suspended in the air, an unspoken plea for forgiveness.

You found it adorable.

A soft, amused chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His irises, warm and desperate, watched you intently, hanging onto your next move with delicious longing. You reached for his wrists, gently guiding them up before pinning them to the mattress, securing them above his head.

Something about the action made Heeseung’s skin prickle with a new kind of excitement. It felt foreign but in the best way – like dipping his toes into uncharted territory and finding himself desperate to dive in. He wanted more. Feeling your warmth around him wasn’t enough. The snug heat of your walls was intoxicating, but it lacked the friction he was beginning to ache for.

“Relax,” you mused, maintaining eye contact as you read the conflict in his gaze. “I’m not that cruel.”

And with that, you rolled your hips forward, then back, deliberately slow, setting a languid rhythm that promised to build.

A guttural moan tore from Heeseung’s throat, as if he had been holding it in for God knows how long. His arms twitched, instinctively testing your grip. He could’ve easily broken free, his strength alone was enough to flip the entire situation in his favor. But he didn’t. He stayed there, restrained beneath you, completely at your mercy.

And knowing that Heeseung, tall, strong, capable, could take control at any moment, but chose not to? That alone drove you absolutely insane.

With a newfound determination – one guided by the desire to give that man just as much pleasure as he was giving you – you quickened your pace. Your own sounds spilled from your lips, unrestrained, unchecked, lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

To Heeseung it was nothing short of a celestial choir. The delicate pitch of your moans, the breathy whimpers slipping through in between sent shivers down his spine. Every sound you made felt like a melody crafted just for him, threading through his veins, coiling low in his stomach, making it near impossible to think straight.

He did his best to meet your movements, hips twitching as he attempted to thrust upward, but the position did him no favors; his efforts were stifled, his range of motion limited, and as if that weren’t enough to set him on the edge, the sinful sight of your breasts bouncing right in front of him, so close yet just out of reach, only worsened his predicament.

“Fuck,” Heeseung groaned, his voice laced with frustration and raw need. A slow, burning heat spread through his body, intensifying with each calculated movement of your hips, the sensation pooling deep in his lower stomach.

Your gaze drifted to his face, taking in the way his features twisted in pleasure. His eyes barely managed to stay open, rolling back as the squeeze of your walls tightened around him, gripping him in a way that made his breath hitch.

Your hips now moved with purpose, with intention; the way you shifted your motions between rocking back and forth, to bouncing, to drawing circles, making sure his dick touched every part of your warm and slick interior was maddening. 

And Heeseung’s body ached for yours just as much. 

“Please–” The first actual plea fell past his parted lips, a cry tone covering each syllable with an attractive lust. “Don't stop. I’m getting close–”

Defying his request, however, you decided to slowly decrease your pace to something that drew Heeseung way too close to completely losing it. He looked at you like you were crazy, though he also had the chance to appreciate the faint light that bathed the room, the silver moonlight gleaming on your skin like an ethereal, priceless painting.

Your actions, on the other hand, were evil as hell.

In between a soft giggle, you leaned forward to approach his lips, muttering, “You want that, don't you?”

A silent nod and one more broken, whispered “Please,” from him graced your ears, eliciting your smile to grow wickedly. Then, you brushed your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, barely there, just enough to tease.

As you pulled away, you caught his bottom lip between yours, sucking it gently before letting it slip free with a soft, wet pop. The momentary loss of contact had Heeseung chasing after you, his body acting on pure instinct, pathetically desperate, but you only watched, amused at his demeanor.

You released his wrists, only to guide his warm hands to the connection of your waist and thighs, your own palms covering them to ensure they stayed exactly where you wanted.

With your back straight and posture unwavering, your body went completely still as you lifted yourself ever so slightly – just enough to leave only the pulsing tip of his length nestled inside you, offering no friction, no relief.

“I'm not moving, Hee…” The teasing lilt in your voice was so blatant it was almost cruel.

Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze roaming over you, trying to ground himself in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers. But it was useless, he was already too far gone, lost in the pleasure that you so effortlessly denied him.

With a voice like silk, dripping with wicked delight, you murmured, “Show me how desperate you are.”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his lightly teary eyes darting up to meet yours before flickering downward, lingering on the tantalizing view of your bare chest, and finally settling on where your bodies were still joined.

There was a flash of hesitation, of confusion and innocence, but the moment he caught the knowing smirk on your lips, the way you remained idle, expectant, understanding dawned on him.

“Come on, Hee,” you urged, rolling your hips just enough to offer the barest hint of friction, a mere whisper of what he craved. “Be a good boy for me, mmh?”

Heeseung's grip on your sides tightened with fervor, his darkened gaze searching yours for confirmation – a silent plea to ensure this was exactly what you wanted. The subtle nod you gave was all he needed. Bracing himself, he propped his knees up, pressing his feet into the mattress for support before thrusting into you.

The first stroke was tentative, his body shuddering as he fully sheathed himself inside you once more, adjusting to the scorching heat that enveloped him. But once he settled, his hesitation melted into determination. Heeseung seized your hips, pulling you down with the same force he drove upward, setting a relentless rhythm that filled the air with the sinful melody of skin meeting skin, mingling with the desperate sounds spilling from your lips.

Your hands instinctively sought stability against the headboard, but the moment Heeseung found that sweet spot inside you, angled just right, you abandoned any attempt. Instead, you melted against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moans and breathless whimpers vibrating against his sweat-slicked skin. Your fingers tangled in his messy strands, clutching for purchase as pleasure spiraled higher.

“Hee–Heeseung,” you nearly sobbed, your voice trembling, a blissful hum following right after. “Right there. Right fucking there,” you gritted out, laced with a warning tone so he wouldn’t dare to stop. 

And he wouldn’t. Not when you squeezed around him like that. Not when your voice turned so sweetly desperate near his ear. Not when he felt you tremble with each merciless thrust straight into that spot.

The coil felt impossibly tight, the telltale heat building in his core, threatening to snap at any second. Heeseung was helpless to fight it, his release crashing over him with overwhelming intensity; his entire body tensed as he slammed his hips up one final time, holding you there, buried to the hilt, shaking as he moaned your name with shameless abandon. 

The way he gripped you, the way he trembled beneath you, the guttural sounds spilling from his lips and, fuck, how firmly he pressed right into your cervix was more than enough to push you over the edge. You shattered around him, clenching so hard it pulled another ragged groan from his throat, your own cries of pleasure filling the space as you unraveled together.

Heeseung filled the condom inside of your sensitiveness and sent a wave of aftershock through your body, the pleasant high still coating your senses

Heavy, ragged breaths were all that remained in the aftermath, your thighs burning with exhaustion, your body too spent to move. Heeseung was no better – completely dazed, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure.

At some point, Heeseung genuinely wondered if he had just died; his entire body slackened after holding so much tension and releasing it through an overwhelming orgasm, a blissful numbness overtaking his limbs. And honestly? If this was the afterlife, he wouldn’t mind staying a little longer.

Monday morning felt as ordinary as any other – except it wasn’t. Not really. Because, apparently, your new normal now involved making out with Heeseung in the parking lot, tucked away behind his car like a couple of reckless teenagers sneaking around.

The difference? You were both adults. Professors, no less. The same ones who had caught students kissing in this very spot more times than you could count.

“Will I see you later?” You asked, voice deliberately sweet, a playful melody slipping through.

It was a side of you that only surfaced around Heeseung, one he seemed to enjoy, judging by the way he looked at you – eyes filled with something warm, something fond.

His hands rested securely on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders, fingers idly playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Everything was in its rightful place.

“Not sure if I can, babe.”

Babe.

The pet name had rolled off his tongue for the first time that morning when he greeted you, as effortless as the kiss that followed, although he had cheeks burning in shyness afraid of your reaction. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind one bit; not when it sent a pleasant flutter through your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound of it. It was far too nice of a feeling to brush off.

You pouted, though you didn’t push for an answer. “That’s okay.”

Still, Heeseung felt the need to explain. “I’ve got a meeting with the principal.”

The mere mention of that title made your heart jolt and a brief grimace filled your features. Your gaze darted around on instinct, as if expecting the man to materialize out of thin air. Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused with your adorable reaction. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out?” He teased, tilting your chin up so you would meet his gaze again. His thumb brushed over your jaw in a way that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. “I’m the new hire, after all. Your job is way more secure than mine.”

“Which is exactly why I’m being careful,” you shot back, your playful smirk making him shake his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t wanna have to visit you at another school.”

“Idiot,” he huffed, rolling his eyes before kissing you again, shutting you up effectively, as your giggle got lost amidst the touch.

That newfound intimacy with Heeseung was sudden, yet it could easily become a routine – one you would never tire of, nor worry about growing dull. There was an undeniable clarity in how every touch, every exchange with him felt like it would only surprise and satisfy you more than the last. The way he held you, how he enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth and quiet affection, was something you allowed yourself to sink into without resistance. 

The previous day had been an unintentional experiment, one that had answered questions you hadn’t even realized you had. 

Truth be told, your interest in Heeseung had sparked the very first time you met. The tension, the lingering glances, the way your breath hitched in his presence – it had all been telling signs that liking him was inevitable. Falling for him? Even more so. He not only embraced your personality but adapted to it so effortlessly, just as you found yourself welcoming every meticulous, endearing detail about him. Falling for Heeseung felt easy. Natural. Maybe even fated.

Kissing him was like dissolving into an ocean of calm and reassurance you hadn’t known you craved – or needed. Kissing him was slowly, irrevocably, becoming everything.

The chime of your phone interrupted the moment, the alarm you had set reminding you that it was time to head inside. Yes. You had both arrived early just to steal a few moments alone, and yes, you had actually set a timer to make sure you wouldn’t lose track of time.

As you pulled away, your gaze immediately sought his, desperate to capture one last glimpse of that breathtaking face.

“Well, guess I’ll see you around,” you sighed, lips jutting out in another small pout. The idea of not seeing him again for the rest of the day left a dull ache in your chest, and in the past, that feeling might have unsettled you.

But here, with his hands still firm on your waist, grounding you, you could only think of how much more you wanted to stay and feel everything he could yield to you.

Heeseung smirked before pecking your lips quickly, his eyes glinting with something that was equal parts fondness and longing – with just a hint of something else. Something that told you he, too, wished he could spend the rest of the day with you. Or maybe all the days after that.

“See you, babe.”

So saying your classes had been boring ever since was an understatement. Sure, you loved what you did. You had studied and dedicated yourself from day one to get where you were. Designing projects, planning assignments, even crafting exams gave you a very particular thrill that nothing else quite matched – until Heeseung came along.

Not having him around left you restless, almost anxious, like counting the minutes wasn’t enough to settle you. You needed him here. Every single second.

The problem was that work consumed both of you in ways neither could escape. As a new hire, Heeseung was still juggling personal studies while handling the avalanche of subjects thrown onto his plate to deal with. You, on the other hand, already a few steps ahead in the hierarchy, carried the weight of being a solid reference for others, staying committed to improving every day, striving towards eventually securing a senior position.

Making a name for yourself in academia demanded everything – writing papers, conducting deeper, more intensive research. You had carved out time in your routine to focus on it. But now, all you could focus on was Heeseung.

Heeseung was affecting your emotions, your life, and your behavior. There was no denying it.

Throughout your life, you had always been decisive, firm in your choices, knowing what was best for you without hesitation. Sure, there was a level of flexibility and freedom, but even that was deeply tied to your essence. You grew up in spaces that tried to tame you, but that only made you more aware of your own vastness, the greatness you wanted to embrace.

There were no second thoughts. Not frequently, at least. There was no other way to be yourself without shutting out external noise, without disregarding the opinions of those who barely knew you. That built a barrier, one you had come to see as normal, where only a select few ever glimpsed your vulnerability. The thought of being seen in your most hesitant, insecure state was terrifying.

Then, Heeseung.

He made you vulnerable, somehow, to be open about worries you would usually brush off and avoid talking about, and it never felt forced; it was effortless, natural, he genuinely wanted to listen, and even help.

At the same time, he made you self-conscious about things you had never cared for before. Your hair, your outfit choices – would they draw the same reaction he always gave you? That slow, shameless gaze, eyes dark with attraction, followed by a compliment so sweet it almost rivaled the warmth in his own deep, espresso-colored stare.

He had you questioning if you fit into the mold of what he might want, never realizing that, to him, you as you were had always been enough.

At home, staring at the empty page of the research paper you were supposed to be working on, your mind was nowhere near academic focus. It was filled with the longing to have him close. No ulterior motives, no underlying intentions, just his presence. Just him. The warmth of his scent in the air, grounding you, centering you.

A thought lingered in the back of your mind. Was it too much to wish you were already living together? Or at least close enough to have him around all the time? You could picture it so clearly: the faint smell of soap clinging to the air as he walked into your office, setting a fresh cup of coffee on your desk, dressed in cozy, oversized clothes, his usual soft expression in place, trying to coax you to bed with him using those beautiful bambi-eyes.

Fuck.

Your fingers curled around your phone instinctively, his contact already pulled up before you even processed the action. But just as quickly, you let out a sharp breath and placed it back down, screen-side down on the desk. Running your hands over your temples, you exhaled, forcing yourself to focus back on the laptop in front of you.

In terms of relationships, balance had never been your strong suit if you tried to be honest; not knowing when to shut out emotions and focus solely on work because of affectual interests, or when to let yourself indulge in personal desires – especially now, when Heeseung had completely messed with your ability to separate the two. 

Because everything with him felt inevitable. The meetings, the glances, the desire. And whatever this was, this unnamed thing between you, it was starting to feel dangerously close to building a place to settle that thing called love. 

On a side note, there was this ongoing feeling of going too fast, of overdoing. The kiss was alright in terms of period, but the sex only two days later? Wasn’t it too… exaggerated? Did it really please him?

You were always so sure of yourself, yet, with Heeseung, you were walking a tightrope, afraid of losing him or losing yourself in the process. Sex with him had only intensified things, your mind spinning amidst a dense cloud of thoughts. Whatever fragile restraints had been holding you back from falling completely had snapped, like some unseen force was screaming at you to open your eyes.

He was exactly what you wanted.

But what if it all fell apart? What if he didn’t want anything serious? The doubts tried to creep in, but the image of his charming smile fought to erase them. Heeseung.

The man who carried a quiet, bashful aura but sometimes put on a confident front, only to fumble shortly after, making you laugh at how effortlessly endearing he was.

The man who hesitated to touch you but, when he did, held you with certainty, with possession, as if having you close was the only thing he was ever sure of.

The man who memorized your coffee order and would show up in the morning with a steaming cup, shrugging casually as he muttered, “The morning coffee here kinda sucks. A pretty girl once taught me that. So, I got you a real one.”

The man who read you so easily, as if every little part of you was worth memorizing. 

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath, the sound of your own voice startling you in the silence that had settled over the past few hours – save for the rustling leaves outside and the mess inside your mind.

You bit down on your lower lip, your chest tightening with a feeling you could only name as longing. There was no other explanation. You missed Heeseung.

After days of sneaking moments together before classes, and barely having time to exchange messages in between, Heeseung had become part of your routine, fitting like a moon pulling the tide just right, a slow dance of heartbeats syncing. And you wanted him to stay in it.

But then came the tide of uncertainties. Would he slip away just as quickly as he had settled in? Were you moving too fast? Would it hurt to dive headfirst into something so intense? Yet, Heeseung wasn’t shallow waters, you wouldn’t hit rock bottom if you chose to dive into the depth of him.

Still, amidst the inner turmoil, the voice of reason, one that years of therapy had helped you shape, resurfaced: you wouldn’t know unless you asked. If he wasn’t truthful, that was on him, but all you could do was trust the words he chose to give you.

And Heeseung had never given you a reason to doubt him. There was no air of deception in his presence, no undertone of dishonesty in his words. His gaze held sincerity, his smile radiated warmth. He seemed genuine in everything he did, in every subtle move, in every interaction. In the way his lips ghosted over yours, the way he pulled you close, the way he let you take the lead more often than not.

He was just… too good.

You barely noticed your fingers sliding across your phone screen until you found his contact, dialing before you could second-guess yourself. No warning, no message, just your voice reaching out to him in the thick of the night, unfiltered, unguarded.

With each ring, your heart pounded harder, matching the steady rhythm of it. And when Heeseung finally answered, his voice rough with sleep yet laced with that familiar tenderness he always carried when it came to you, your breath hitched. No explanations, no preamble. Without thinking, without even registering how late it was or that you had probably woken him, you asked.

“Do you think we're going too fast?”

On the other end of the line, Heeseung, who had just settled into the comfort of his bed after reviewing his lessons for the next day, immediately sat up to give you his full attention. Instead of probing further, he picked up on the underlying worry in your voice, the slight hint of anxiety, and chose his words carefully.

“No, I don’t think we are. Honestly, we’re just right, babe,” he said, with a double meaning carefully embedded not just to respond to your question but to remove any lingering doubts. His voice, as soft as ever, was clear when he added, “What made you think we’re moving too fast, love?”

Love.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You muttered under your breath, unable to suppress the immediate reaction that his endearment caused. Another one added to the collection, this one carrying a different weight – one that sank deep in your stomach, settling in your chest in a surreal... but strangely comforting way.

Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions; a tremor of apprehension coursing through his veins, yet warmth blooming in his chest, right where his heart pounded just a little too fast, a little too hard. He couldn’t deny the pet name had rolled off his tongue without forethought, slipping past his lips as naturally as a heartbeat. 

He waited in the silence, not just because he feared he had messed up, but because he genuinely wanted you to clarify the reason behind your sudden call and the unexpected question. He respected your need to reflect before responding.

But the silence... It was growing deafening.

“I– I don’t know what’ve gotten to me, actually,” you finally confessed, leaning back in your chair with a sigh. Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of your own words before they left your mouth. “I think it’s just a fear of losing what we have, mixed with a hesitation to dive into something that’s giving me some uncertainty.”

Now it was Heeseung’s turn to let silence speak for him. Uncertainty? Was that what he was making you feel? Unsure? The thought alone sent a heavy weight crashing down on his chest, his stomach dropping as a chill spread through his body, seeping into his bones like ice water. His throat tightened, the unspoken question lodged there, thick and heavy, pressing against his vocal cords until he finally forced it out.

“Am I giving you uncertainty, Y/N?”

The change in Heeseung’s voice, from soft to serious, was evident and sent an instant wave of panic through you.

“No!” You responded urgently, your voice rising a few notes, and you automatically straightened up in your chair as though it would help to elucidate what you meant. “No, not you. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I trust everything you do and show me through your actions and words. I trust what you say. I trust how you feel. I trust you.”

“It’s good to know,” he replied, his voice softer again, “because I trust you too. In every way.”

There was a thin, delicate line between the weight of his words, a line that stretched from your physical connection previously explored to the deeper trust you were building together. You both were learning how to create a comfortable space for one another, even though it sometimes came with its own set of challenges and discomfort.

Another moment of silence stretched out between you two as though the air itself had become weighed down by invisible clouds of tension. It was like a storm had suddenly rolled in, filling the room with a suffocating pressure that made it difficult to breathe; your lungs felt tight, struggling to maintain a normal rhythm.

But Heeseung… Heeseung was the one who read you once again. It was as if he could read every chapter of your life with a quiet understanding, his fingers tracing each line of your story with such ease. It wasn’t about knowing what came next or predicting the end, it was about savoring the journey, knowing that each new chapter would only lead him to admire you more and want you just as much.

Breaking the silence, his voice was gentle when he said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming in a few.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, your shoulders shifting slightly as you did so, “Yeah. There is.”

Heeseung had fully reclined against the headboard of his bed by now, his legs stretched out and subtly fidgeting with a subtle, almost sweet kind of nervousness – the kind that felt eerily, yet delightfully similar to having a crush.

Heeseung flushed easily whenever you looked at him for too long, and quickly averted his gaze when you crossed paths in the hall, afraid that his emotions might spill over and give him away. His ears would go red every time you complimented him, and the memories of the night you two shared would replay in his mind over and over again, stirring sensations that were both tender and a little... impolite.

And to top it all off, wrapping it up together, it was impossible for him to hide the way his heart raced at just the thought of seeing you, let alone touching you, kissing you, or being in more intimate, vulnerable spaces with you – not only sexually but in terms of personal experiences, too.

Exploring different aspects of life with you sounded exciting, he could feel his pulse quickening with some kind of thrill he couldn’t remember experiencing before. Right now, however, the throbbing beats of his heart signaled dread, pointing out that he wasn’t just excited to continue on that path with you, but he feared losing the possibility to do so. 

“I trust you, Hee.” Simply to be certain, you repeated yourself. “But I can’t lie that this scares me to some extent,” Heeseung hummed in agreement for you to keep talking. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t think I ever cared this much about how things were going, y’know? I never cared if I should wear a color that someone thinks looks pretty on me. Or that I should act some way… Or even if I– if I had sex before actually dating someone. I don’t have a problem with that.”

On the other side, Heeseung blushed. It was the actual first time that “dating” was brought into a conversation between you two and although it was the natural course of relationships, he never thought about having to ask you to be his girlfriend.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it was more than obvious that he was with you and only you. Hearing those words, though, shed light on his thoughts, and he made a mental note to plan something special and ask you to be his girlfriend.

Heeseung was willing to listen to every little concern you had and to offer you the security you needed. And if that meant simply asking you to be his, then he would do so with all the joy in the world.

“And then you call me love.”

There it was, the root of the issue. Heeseung sighed softly, but it wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion from what you were saying, it was more of a realization, a moment where everything clicked and he finally understood what had been causing all these thoughts to swirl around.

“Y/N,” he said gently, your name flowing from his lips like honey. You hummed in response. “First of all, I’m sorry for not clarifying my intentions better. I don’t think we’re moving too fast. In fact, I really like our dynamic and how we seem to make things work between us.”

Hearing his side of things, without having to imagine terrible monsters in your head, was freeing. You finally understood what set Heeseung apart from the others: he made a point to communicate and, most importantly, to listen to you.

“And... I called you ‘love’ not because I love you. Not yet.” Instead of the weight of heartache and unrelenting tension, you... relaxed. There was no pressure for any rush. “I called you love because I think it’s a cute nickname, and I do want to love you, Y/N. Eventually.” He paused, his voice thick with sincerity. “I think love is something that’s built, crafted little by little, by both sides. I don’t say it if I don’t mean it.”

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “I want to love you too, Hee.”

“So let’s take this at our pace. How does that sound?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, as though his thoughts had passed the barrier of caution and were now spilling out freely. “I want to kiss you every morning before work because I like you. But you don’t have to feel pressured to like me back.”

“I do like you, though,” you murmured quietly, almost like it was a secret.

Heeseung chuckled softly, a low, subtle sound that perfectly matched the soothing atmosphere that had settled around you both. “I’m thankful then.”

A gentle silence fell over the moment, your heart racing, but not from anxiety. It was because, for the first time, you felt like you had found someone truly important, someone special and irreplaceable, who seemed willing to build something real with you.

If Heeseung read you like his favorite book, you wanted to create an incredible story with him. And with that thought, you asked, under the moonlight that spilled through your curtains.

“Let’s start our chapter one. Shall we?”

“I love kissing you, oh my God,” Heeseung whispered against your mouth, words muffed as you pressed your bodies together.

With only a few minutes left before the lecture you both were set to deliver, a sudden wave of nervousness crashed over you, hitting deep as the realization settled: soon, you would be sharing the stage to talk about an extremely important topic with the very man who had starred in your most sinful dreams. Dreams that, over the past few weeks, had shifted from mere fantasy into breathtaking reality.

It was a relatively large lecture in terms of audience size, and while it was the kind of event you genuinely enjoyed with a dynamic exchange of ideas between the speakers, with the audience observing the unfolding of thoughts, you had been assigned as the main host.

Heeseung, still new to this environment, was positioned as the co-host, with you acting as his guide, leading the discussion and stepping in if needed.

Not once did you doubt Heeseung’s abilities. Over the past few days, both of you had dedicated intense yet careful effort to reviewing every key point, ensuring that nothing was left unpolished. That was when you noticed just how similar he was to you. He preferred to structure his speech around key topics, allowing the conversation to flow naturally, trusting in his knowledge rather than rigidly following a script.

And, God, was he hot when he read through his notes with furrowed eyebrows in deep concentration, glasses perched perfectly on his round, yet pointy nose, those dark eyes scanning the words with precise focus. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly attractive he looked while working.

Furthermore, Heeseung showed signs of apprehension as well during the minutes before starting it; added with how delectable he looked in that dress shirt and gold-framed glasses and to kill two birds with one stone, you lured the said man into following you to a nearby bathroom, using the excuse of needing his help to grab some materials you forgot in another class.

In reality, your plan was to grab his collar and pull him into the confined space to share some kisses. And of course, the kisses were leading to something way more far than you expected.

Heeseung had discovered that kissing you was his favorite sport, and even as his lungs burned and begged for relief, he would rather lose himself in your lips than pull away. Dying in your arms because he couldn’t bear to let you go sounded both poetic and achingly genuine.

Then, there was almost a shift, as though a switch clicked, and the kiss would grow deeper and more wanting. It remained slow, perfectly slow and affectionate, but carried an undeniable neediness. Hands once resting respectfully on waists and necks would begin to wander, indulging in the freedom to explore lustful territories, and Heeseung’s body would start to betray him, throbbing in anticipation. 

That one kiss, however, was escalating quickly into a frantic rhythm, heading towards a heated and intense atmosphere far too inappropriate for a workplace. But, on your part, you seemed to care little, feeling a burning need for him like never before.

It was an odd sensation, this overwhelming desire to have Heeseung inside you in the most sinful way possible. The kiss, which had started as a means to calm your nerves, quickly morphed into a chaotic tangle of hands ruffling clothes and hair, desperately grabbing at any inch of covered and exposed skin as a way to relieve the growing arousal between you two. Breaths intertwined in a fiery rhythm, each exhale more desperate than the last.

“Fuck,” you moaned against Heeseung’s lips as his large hands gripped your ass, squeezing with an urgency that made your head spin and your breath to hitch. 

Your beautiful noise triggered an electric pulse that shot straight to Heeseung’s arousal state, causing his dick to become increasingly stiff, the fabric around it starting to feel suffocating. He pushed you back against the sink’s counter, lifting you effortlessly and seating you on the edge, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

Your fingers gripped his face tightly, almost as if you were afraid of losing him, weaving into his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands that had grown just enough to become your new addiction. Heeseung’s touch was like a drug, each caress making it harder to pull away from him, as if losing yourself amidst his brown locks would somehow break the spell.

His hands roamed lower, exploring with a quiet urgency, trying to trace every inch of you without leaving actual marks; your thighs were his favorite place to lose himself and in any other given moment he would definitely be buried deep between them.

Seeking a break to allow your breaths to find a steady rhythm, Heeseung trailed his lips down your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. Yet, his movements were slightly hindered by the persistent frame of his glasses, which kept getting in the way , nudging against your skin, slipping down his nose, and frustrating his efforts to fully indulge in the moment. 

Although he struggled to ignore, he made sure one of his hands remained firmly planted on the marble surface behind you, ensuring you wouldn't lose balance, while the other wandered shamelessly over your thigh, fingertips tracing the fabric of your tailored slacks with deliberate intent.

“You look so fucking good in these,” he murmured between wet, heated kisses, his lips mapping out the sensitive spot on your neck he already knew too well.

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped you as you tilted your head back, granting him full access, your own fingers getting lost amidst his hair, pulling him closer. But just as quickly as the amusement flickered across your face, it melted into an expression contorted in pleasure, body betraying you.

“I always wear these…” You managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

Heeseung let out a low giggle against your skin, a sinful sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Exactly,” he mused, voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re always so fucking hot.”

Without even realizing it, your hips rolled forward, chasing the friction your body so desperately craved. And it was only then, as a deep heat pooled low in your stomach, that you became fully aware of just how ruined your panties already were. You were wet and needy for something, for someone. Precisely, for Heeseung. 

Having his touch so close to your pulsing cunt made it difficult not to get more demanding of contact, to succumb into whatever he was willing to give you, so you guided your command. 

“Help me remove it.”

Heeseung didn’t question further – he didn’t have to. Not when you had made your intentions crystal clear as your hand trailed down to unbutton your pants, fingers working decisively and quickly. Without hesitation, you reached for his hand, leading it to the waistband of your pants and urging him to tug them down, silently inviting him to take things beyond mere kisses.

The air was thicker than ever when Heeseung halted his kisses on your neck and saw your bare thighs as well as a glimpse of the wet spot in your panties, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. His body reacted immediately, the sight setting every nerve on fire and making it impossible to focus on anything else other than your pussy.

His lips fell ajar, whispering ragged breaths that rawly exposed his desire; the clenched jaw also was an indicator he was getting just as needy, and his cock growing heavier and harder inside his underwear was barely containable. 

“I want your fingers,” within a murmur, you revealed what you wanted once realization hit you about Heeseung. He was about to get on his knees in order to be at the height of your pulsing core, his eyes locked with it as if he was in trance, but you didn’t have time to enjoy a proper head. 

Besides, that part of his body was definitely one of your biggest weaknesses. 

Heeseung looked at you with that mesmerizing gaze, filled with a type of confusion and innocence that you only met in them, where somehow it molded a perfect fuckable expression that gnawed at your necessity of ruining it.

Then, you pulled the hand resting in your thigh to guide it towards your mouth, where you gently wrapped your lips around his middle and ring finger, enveloping them into the warmthness of your humid interior; your tongue danced between them as you deliberately sucked, not once breaking eye contact. 

Heeseung’s breath struggled to keep a pace, his eyes charmed by the alluring view you were giving – and for free. He was focused, as if you were spilling all the important information in the world to him; instead, you were making his dick twitch, since the feeling of your wet muscle brushing against his skin were sending straightforward messages to his sensitive and neglected area. He had to hold back a pathetic whimper threatening to escape.

With a smirk, you released Heeseung’s fingers slightly covered in your saliva, a string of the fluid connecting both areas, but held them close to your lips, grazing over it.

When you next talked, it tickled both skins. “I want them,” and, slowly but surely, you directed his hand downwards, Heeseung intense stare following until you stopped on your pussy, where, with your other hand, you pushed your underwear to the side. “Here.”

It was amusing and funny to perceive the way Heeseung’s breath hitched in his throat before he let out a sharp gasp, his gaze locking onto yours in search of an answer beyond the obvious, like he was utterly stunned with your request.

“Right now?” He asked, his voice airy, every ounce of disbelief laid bare as well as the typical hint of innocence and confusion. Heeseung was so fucking adorable. Having his big bambi eyes decorated by those gold-framed glasses was a sinful image.

Yet, his reaction stood in contrast to his actions; he was already closing the small space between you, his fingers, the very ones you had guided there, now teasing against your pulsing, needy pussy.

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, a taunting sultry grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Right now.”

Heeseung watched in awe and with his heartbeats accelerated how confident on your demand you were by forcing his fingers inside before releasing your grip, leaving your wetness in full display to his digits to play with; you had flattened your palms on the counter beneath you, searching for support and to grant easier access.

“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling the unmistakable throb of his dick inside his underwear. 

Randomly, a flicker of moral consciousness urged Heeseung to glance towards the locked bathroom door, as if someone might materialize out of thin air and catch the two of you in an undeniably compromising position.

This wasn’t him. He had always been the ideal student and eventually the dedicated professional, the man who prided himself on focus and discipline… But how the hell was he supposed to resist you?

The restroom you had chosen was one reserved for faculty – small but comfortable, designed for privacy, with only a single stall and sink. More than enough space to accommodate two professors caught in the heat of their desires.

Unlike Heeseung, you weren’t oblivious to the whispered stories of other faculty members using the same space for similar purposes, and that knowledge alone reassured you that the risk of getting caught was low.

But Heeseung’s sudden hesitation became palpable when he turned to look at you, one of his fingers still slowly burying itself inside you, yet his expression now laced with uncertainty, concern evident in the subtle furrow of his brows.

“Relax, baby,” you murmured, voice tinged with quiet reassurance as you rolled your hips forward, urging him deeper. Your half-lidded eyes locked onto his, inviting, unwavering. Heeseung winced. “I need you, hm?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His breath faltered. And as if your words had snapped the last thread of restraint holding him back, his hesitation melted away, replaced by something darker, more desperate.

So Heeseung positioned himself into a comfortable position where his face was hidden in the crook of your neck, smelling the perfect mix of your perfume and natural scent while taking advantage to kiss you there. One arm held your waist and steaded your body while his other hand busied itself to please you.

Although it had started with one digit to stretch you out before adding the second one, you had to bite your lower lip in order to suppress the noises threatening to escape, since Heeseung easily found your sensitive spot from the very beginning and made sure to hit it with precision within each pound. And because of that, the strange intrusion quickly turned into a delightful wave of arousal flushing through your interior, your muffled whines growing louder.

Hearing your suppressed moans, however, was shattering Heeseung’s self-control, making it exponentially harder to contain the urge to get some relief himself. So almost unconsciously, yet deliberately, his hips started to move back and forth, brushing the painful boner on the edge of the counter.

“Fuck,” you mewled, hands flying to hold on Heeseung’s shoulders, intending to somehow anchor your spinning head and lost thoughts, but everything felt overwhelmingly good and you became pathetically desperate to have your orgasm. “Love your fingers, baby.”

The praise was more than honest, because Heeseung did, in fact, an amazing job inside you; flickering his fingers with mastery to curl at the very moment you needed them to, now speeding up the pace of his movements, wrists nearly burning from the exercise – and fortunately, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Not without your juices coating his digits.

You almost failed to catch the act of his hips rocking into anything that could give him some friction and consequently some kind of satisfaction. You even briefly wondered if your ears were deceiving you when soft moans grazed the skin of your neck, but Heeseung quickly confirmed your doubts not long after.

“I'm so hard,” he whined breathy in your neck, the pace on his fingers never faltering although his entire body shuddered within each soft thrust into the counter. 

From your lips, a cascade of curses blended with soft moans dripped, bouncing on the stillness of the walls surrounding you two, now more than never caring a little to nothing about getting caught; you, yourself, already extremely lost into pleasure the two digits fucking your pulsing cunt were providing. 

The position allowed his palm to glide across your bundle of nerves, ever so slightly giving the contact to drive you insane, you could feel your climax approaching. Your hands clutched the fabric of his blazer and you moaned. 

“So fucking good–”

“Will you cum for me, yeah?” Heeseung urged desperately, consciously wishing to finish you fast enough so you could help him out before heading back; even when he was somehow in control, he sounded completely surrendered to you, as if you owned each unique piece of his soul.

“Yes, yes, yes! I fucking will, oh my God,” your eyes rolled back and your whole body trembled, your muscles tensing the moment the coil in your core snapped.

Heeseung didn’t stop a second, fucking you through your high as your liquid drenched your long gone panties, stirring wet lewd sounds from the in and out. Your body jolted, nearly convulsing as Heeseung’s name fell past your lips amidst sobs; you noticed the mildly drying tears at the corner of your eyes as the world around you crumbled briefly into a blur.

“So pretty,” Heeseung murmured with his raspy tone against your cheek, kindly kissing the area as his fingers gradually slowed, eventually coming to a halt.

At the back of his mind, though, there was a faint reminder about the lecture waiting for both of you, so the time was running short – and he had a big problem to solve before going back.

You felt languid, too relaxed. Maybe you had overdone it with the dose of Heeseung that had seeped into your system, leaving your body in a state of calm you hadn't expected, but you didn’t regret it for a second. 

Now you would have to hope you had an extra pair of underwear tucked somewhere in your bag and pray for a little jolt to snap you back into reality, to remind you that your soul hadn’t been completely drained by Heeseung’s skilled fingers.

Speaking of which, Heeseung was dotting your neck and face with gentle kisses, patiently waiting for you to regain some semblance of consciousness, to come back down from wherever you had just floated off to. The sound of a notification on your phone, however, was enough to drag you back immediately.

You startled, almost leaping off the counter in a frantic search for your phone, your hands fumbling until they finally brushed against it behind you. Your heart raced so loudly you swore it might burst from your chest.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you read the message from the principal calling you backstage.

Meanwhile, Heeseung continued his affectionate attack on your neck, like a needy little kitten, completely unaware of the devious plan that had just been planted in your head; he was hard, and now, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. A wicked, almost mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you typed a quick reply.

“Hee,” you said, pushing him gently away from you by his chest. But he wasn’t ready to let go. “Hee, listen to me. I have to go.”

“Huh?” He leaned back only to look at you, his large eyes brimming with desperation, though now confusion started to creep in.

“Yeah,” you showed him the message, watching how his gaze flicked rapidly over the words. You couldn’t help but notice – and enjoy – the way his expression shifted: first, confusion, then realization that you weren’t about to stay and finish what he so desperately wanted, and, to close it all, a flawless culmination of his state, expressing a combination of both desperation and frustration in equal measure.

His lips were swollen and slightly parted, he was just as breathless as you and it was an amusing vision, because you didn't even do anything to leave him like that. Your noises and reactions, and the feeling of your clenching pussy around his thick fingers were more than enough, apparently; being aware of that fact made a warm, comforting sensation rise in your chest, almost as if your self-confidence depended solely on it at that moment. It inflated your ego in the bestest way.

Before jumping out of the counter, you settled his messy, disheveled strands caused by your early fidgety hands.

“But what about... Me?” He finally asked with puckered lips, pleading eyes and a soft, nearly helpless expression. You almost folded. Almost.

With a final touch by adjusting his blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles that would give away your small adventure, you smiled. 

“Behave.”

Heeseung watched in pure astonishment as you removed your panties completely, folding it into a small ball and throwing it into the trash. Then, you cleaned yourself quickly, washing your hands, acting as if nothing had happened. 

His body refused to move due to his dumbfounded state. You weren’t that devil, were you?

Turning on your heels with the biggest smile ever, you searched for his lips to give it a small peck, “Behave and I'll reward you later,” and just like that, you patted his head and winked.

“But–”

“Be a good boy, Heeseung,” you instantly cut any possibility of disagreement, holding his face in place to keep eye contact. “Can you do that for me?”

Unseen by you, his dick twitched inside his slacks. He gulped down the urge to lock you into that bathroom and fuck your mouth, because the idea of having his body used by you later was far better. 

“Yes.”

Though you had grinned at his whispered answer, your squinted your eyes gave away you were waiting for something more. Heeseung felt blood rushing towards his face, his cheeks with a faint blush, burning, as his gaze flickered away when he replied properly.

“Yes, I can be your good boy.”

You had never been the type to break promises. Not even the smallest, most trivial ones, and especially not the ones left unspoken. If you promised something – whether directly or not – you would follow through, no matter what.

And what cost was there in giving pleasure to your current… boyfriend?

It all happened so quickly. You and Heeseung delivered the presentation and it went flawlessly; the thunderous applause that filled the room was a clear answer to any lingering doubts in the air.

He did well, despite the painful erection he had been fighting with moments leading up to the presentation – thankfully, thinking of repulsive things had helped him relax and soften his shaft, otherwise, the embarrassment of standing there, hard in front of a room full of students, would’ve been irreparable.

Especially after you made sure to point out, indirectly, that you hadn’t found any spare underwear in your bag or car, suggesting, well, that Heeseung’s prize was tantalizingly close.

Every second you spent together during that presentation, Heeseung had to fight the fire of desire building low in his stomach, praying his loose pants wouldn’t betray him with the growing evidence of his arousal.

Then, you both left, your only task for the day completed, which led to Heeseung arriving at your bed much earlier than expected. The need to have you was much stronger than the plan to go out and celebrate the success of the presentation. He didn’t want to celebrate with food or drinks; he wanted to devour you.

And so, kissing you feverishly from the elevator to your room, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Please?”

It was a rushed, spontaneous request, made amidst a kiss just as frantic and intense. It made you stop for a brief moment, shocked, your breath ragged and your eyes wide with more emotion than words could capture.

Apparently, all it took to win him over was edging him. And, well, of fucking course you said yes.

So now you had your lips wrapped around Heeseung’s dick as if they were made to be there, tailor-made to envelop him with mastery and desire, the same desire that compelled you to bob your head up and down slowly, lingering deliberately and with intent on the head.

The tip of your tongue played with its slit, the sensitivity of the area stirring a guttural moan from Heeseung who couldn’t hold longer in the silence; he barely noticed he was holding his breath so far, releasing it among a shaked trail of pleas for you not to stop.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, rolling his eyes when your throat met his tip, at the same time your nose made contact with his pelvis. He winced and stuttered a curse, hands clutching the already messy sheets beneath. “F–Fuck…”

The most thrilling part was that Heeseung had no idea that this wasn’t even the prize he had earned for his good behavior. Of course, what could possibly be a better reward for hours of unintentional edging? Well…

Hidden beneath your dedication to giving a truly memorable head was the curve of a wicked smile, one that concealed every sinful, far-from-innocent thought that had spun through your mind all day. 

If two hours of self-restraint had been torture for Heeseung, then for you, the real challenge had been thinking of anything other than the countless ways you could unravel him, the infinite methods you could use to push him past the edge of sanity. Fuck… Just the thought of it had your heart racing and your stomach twisting in excitement, not to mention the throb in your bare cunt – you got rid of both your clothes the moment you crossed the room’s door. 

In a way, you were grateful that Heeseung was struggling to keep his eyes open, avoiding your gaze altogether, because if he dared to look he would see right through you. He would catch the teasing glint in your eyes, the sheer amusement at how effortlessly you had him at your mercy and the uncountable devious ideas crossing your head. 

But then, there was a moment, a fleeting second when he was reckless enough to glance down at you. Little did he know you had been watching him the entire time, your focus never once wavering since your lips wrapped around his leaking length. You were drinking in every micro-expression, every twitch of his muscles, every tremor in his breath, the way his brows knitted together as pleasure consumed him.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that…” He groaned, voice strained.

The position had changed a few seconds ago, now with a hand gripping tightly the base of his shaft and massaging the part your mouth couldn’t take, as you focused solely on his sensitive head. The other hand rested dangerously close to his balls.

With a wet pop, you let him slip from your mouth just long enough to speak, your fingers never pausing as they jerked him off. “Or else…?” You trailed off, the mischief in your voice unmistakable.

His eyes flickered with hesitation, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had no “or else” to offer. He wouldn’t do anything. He would take whatever you gave him without question, without resistance.

There were no agreed-upon punishments, no threats looming over him. But after what you had done to him in the bathroom earlier, he already knew just how far you were willing to push him, how cruelly you could toy with him if you wanted to – and, damn, he would be down to anything if it involved you.

He swallowed thickly, voice faltering as your fingers cupped around his tip, your wrist twisting in slow, deliberate circular motions.

“O–or else nothing, b–baby,” he stammered, his body trembling under your touch. His breath started to rag with a certain constancy, pitch climbing higher as his resolve shattered completely. “N–Nothing at all. I’m all yours, right? Do whatever you wan–” He had to stop himself, since you thought it would be the right time to toy with his balls. The rough moan echoed through your interior like a visceral energy straight to your pussy, stirring it to clench, your arousal growing. “Fuck!”

It was such a beautiful view; Heeseung threw his head back and clutched his eyes close, back arching involuntarily within a sudden jolt, and his legs, once softly idling on the bed, now squirmed as you didn’t stop, never once, none of your movements, silently pressing the orgasm you knew it was close. 

Your piercing gaze zeroed on his trembling form, the way his lips fell open and how his Adam’s apple bobbed with the failed attempts to gulp his saliva; you could see it trailing down from the corner of his lips, his tongue struggling to gather it back on his mouth.

“So beautiful, Hee,” you whispered loud enough to make yourself heard, basking in the sight of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

And that was the last thing you said before taking his dick in your mouth again, deepthroating instantly and provocatively making swallowing motions, which pressed the very tip and elicited another guttural-high pitched whimper, sounds you had never heard coming from him before.

Heeseung was seeing stars, for sure. His eyes could barely stay open, yet they still rolled back as everything you were doing drove him absolutely wild. It wasn't just sensitivity or neediness; you were touching him in such a specific way that left no room for anything else, no space for coherent thoughts or self-control.

He could feel his body slowly unraveling, but not in a painful way. It was strange, like all his energy was being funneled entirely into the place where your mouth was consuming him. The rhythm of your tongue around him was hypnotic, but every time he tried to focus on how incredible it felt to have you taking him in, your hand playing with his balls distracted him completely. He had no idea what to do, how to react, or what the hell was going on in his mind anymore.

Only a few seconds into it and his entire body shuddered, his warning filling the room nearly at the same time as the warm stream cascaded down your throat, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. ‘M cumming…”

You swallowed Heeseung’s release as if you were parched, drinking it down like water, which accidentally overstimulated his spent cock through his high. Not a single drop escaped your hungry lips, cleaning him almost completely before you detached your mouth from it.

Heeseung trembled beneath your touch, the aftershocks rippling through his body in such a ridiculously captivating way that you could have admired it for hours without tiring. His lightly bronzed chest was now flushed in a lovely shade of red, coated in sweat from the heat of desire that had enveloped the room. In that moment, your gaze shifted to your next... target. The owner of it being entirely unaware of the mischief brewing in your mind.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you took a moment to steady your breath before continuing with your plan. You shifted up just enough to reach Heeseung’s swollen lips, his face still contorted in a look that could only be described as pleasure, but relaxed, as if he were sinking into the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his body still quivering as your fingertips traced the outlines of his collarbones, studying him with the kind of admiration you reserved for someone who didn’t know what he had just experienced.

“Hey,” you called softly, caressing his cheek tenderly as though you wanted to make sure he was okay. 

Heeseung fluttered his eyes open, the tiredness of them exposing how affected he was. You wavered about continuing with your ideas, but with the smirk he showed you and the way his gaze flickered lazily to your lips as if asking for you to continue it was the green light you needed.

So you captured his lips with yours, starting a kiss that was both passionate and affectionate. It was, somehow, an aftercare; one you would give even not having the need to. And Heeseung was more than receptive to kiss you.

It was oddly addictive, the mingled taste of you and himself, the bittersweetness melting across his tongue, igniting each particle of his body to move along with you. One hand slid instinctively to the back of your head, his fingers carefully threading through your hair as he held you in place, gently yet firmly pulling you closer.

Heeseung quivered when your fingertips started to move innocently down, not paying enough attention to it, until they touched his, now, softening shaft. 

He tried to break the kiss to complain, to alert that he was still sensitive from the previous orgasm and you would have to wait a few more seconds, maybe minutes, so he could get hard again; he definitely wouldn’t mind another round. But you only moved further, pressing yourself into his lips, shutting any possibility of him letting you know he was slightly in pain.

“Y/N–” “Shh,” a shush was enough to leave him speechless, especially because your hand kept its exploration, now settling into a languish pace of moving up and down along his length.

“S–Stop…” Heeseung, once again, tried to part the kiss to plead. This time, you leaned back only enough to search for his eyes. They were wide in alarm. 

“Do you want me to stop, baby?” 

Your voice had taken on a specific rasp, clearly affected by the pressure you had previously exerted on your throat. But that was worse for Heeseung’s state, because you still shaped it to sound sultry, almost seductive. It was pathetic how he responded to your every stimulus, in all its varying intensities and nuances.

“It’s burning,” he whispered softly, not wanting to disappoint you in any way. You had already tried overstimulation before, so this was a sensation and dialogue he was familiar with.

You cooed, “Yeah? Is it?” Your tone, feigned concern, was completely overshadowed by the mocking edge beneath it. It was almost comical, but Heeseung loved it.

And then, a soft moan escaped him. He was getting hard again, which only spurred your hand to move faster, causing him to hiss.

“Uhm…”

The last time you had tried this, he had done exactly what he had just done: his hand had moved to grasp your wrist, but he didn’t exert any force to pull it away. It seemed more like a desperate attempt to hold on to something, almost as if he were clinging to his sanity.

The naughty grin that curled your lips only revealed how much you were enjoying watching him like this, eyes blinking rapidly, unsure whether to stay focused on the slight sting of discomfort, or to surrender to the imminent pleasure.

“But that wasn’t my question, was it?”

“N-No,” he shook his head, his voice shaky. “It wasn’t.”

You gave him a moment to respond, almost considering asking again just for the sake of it, but it seemed much more satisfying to use his lack of a correct answer as a small “punishment”, so your lips trailed down, leaving a path of warmth and chills through your way until they encircled Heeseung’s nipple, but not giving the entire touch; it was just a test of waters, just to drag out any reaction aiming to guide your following decisions, as you peppered soft kisses near the area and read his body response.

Heeseung’s breath hitched with the proximity of your mouth to his sensitive buds, his eyes fluttering shut and a small frown pressing his forehead to contort. Yet, his silence was heavy.

You raised your gaze ever so slightly to catch a glimpse, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized he might be into it, though he seemed to be trying to hide his blatant reactions; your hand on his cock now slowing to an almost full stop.

With that, you decided to wrap your lips around his nipple again, this time shortening the distance to flicker your tongue a few times right on the hardened tip, and the answer was immediate and modestly unexpected. 

“Oh, shit!” Heeseung nearly screamed, body jolting abruptly as a sharp spasm overtook his nerves. The coil in his stomach tightened, twisting further with each passing second you continued to play with your tongue.

Now absolutely certain of the pleasure you were causing, every whimper that fell from his lips was a delicious incentive for you to keep going, alternating between wet, noisy sucks and flattening your tongue to rub it along the bruised bud, your saliva coating his chest.

“Ngh, damn, fuck–” Heeseung exhaled shakily, unable to comprehend anything other than the crescent blissful thrill in his body, the temperature rising considerably due to your effort to make him go insane.

He was sure you wanted to make him go insane.

Blindly, you went back to grab his already very hard dick to give it some attention again, and the combo of everything you were doing to his body was more than enough for him to come undone in your hands.

“Babe, oh my god– Please–” He urged. “Don’t stop…” His voice was almost a broken whisper, but the pleading tone was clear, like a fragile thread that he hoped would keep him tethered to reality.

You giggled, continuing your work on his sensitive nipples, nibbling softly and then brushing your tongue to soothe any pain. 

“Please…” Heeseung’s voice cracked slightly, the desperation seeping through within pathetic moans, as his fingers gripped your wrist tightly.

“Aw,” you cooed, lips curling into a devilish smirk. You kissed his nipple a few times before letting go of it. “You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

The word fell from his lips again similar to a mantra, his entire body trembling under your touch, yearning for more but unsure if he could handle it. A small giggle escaped you. “Is that all you can say, my love? Please?”

You repositioned your body to sit on your knees by his side, one hand focused solely on jerking him off, while the other rested on his chest, until you decided to flicker your finger on one of his nipples. 

“Aw, so sensitive, aren’t you?” You murmured with amusement, your voice soft yet dripping with teasing.

He was already leaking heavily, and when he started to whimper, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist that had been touching his chest, pushing it further into him, as if urging you to continue, you could feel how dangerously close he was to the edge again.

“Oh my God, oh my God…” His words came out as breathy nonsense, barely coherent, his hips instinctively grinding against you, seeking more friction. He was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by it all.

Heeseung's chest rose and fell with a desperate pace as he fought to catch his breath, each exhale shaking. His skin was flushed, a deep, beautiful shade of red coated in a thin sheen of sweat that caught the dim light of the room, making him glow with every movement.

Amidst pleas, blended with delectable whines of your name, there was a heavy desperation underlying beneath the whole surface he was showing you. 

He sounded dumb. 

He teetered the edge of madness, your touches weighting tons along his spent length; the nearly purple tip was nothing but pure perfection for your eyes, painfully hard still, because behind his despair there was the actual need to be there, to please you with by offering his own pleasure, to be your good boy.

And you wanted to make sure he understood it.

“You’re such a good boy, Hee.”

And as if your words snapped the bliss away from him, only to drift strongly back with a much intense force, the fierce orgasm built for the last minutes burst out through thick ropes upwards, landing perfectly on the very end of his tummy, on the sheets and on your hand. Thinking ahead, you used some of his release to lubricate what would soon become your seat.

Heeseung was fucking breathless, not sure if he was still alive but definitely pleasured. However, before he could regain full consciousness of his body, you were already straddling over, aligning your needy pussy, aching for some relief, already dripping in arousal, to be fulfilled by his dick, though it needed some rest before anything else. 

His eyes flew open as he held your hips in place, preventing you from sinking into the very sensitive extension of his cock. He would probably lift his torso as well, but he was too tired to even try, so his persuasion game was reduced to merely the plea in his gaze and the obvious tiredness of his breathing.  

“I already came so much,” Heeseung murmured, his bambi-eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t think I can…” His eyes darted briefly to your pussy, and the view of it painfully asking to be filled to the brim had him tweaking.

Once again: it was pathetic how devoted for you – and your body – Heeseung was. 

“Oh?” You pouted, cocking your head to the side with feigned sadness. “But I didn’t come, though?”

“Can you wait just a little?” 

You carefully observed the genuine tone laced in his voice as he made his request. There was a desire to continue behind his words, but he had asked only for a brief moment of pause. You could wait for as long as it took if it meant fulfilling his wish and not pushing further his boundaries. 

So you nodded, rising from your position to grab a water bottle from the nightstand. It was difficult to ignore just how wet the inside of your thighs had become or how the slightest friction on your clit only heightened your arousal.

“Here, baby,” you handed him the water bottle, watching the charming Adam's apple move with each swallow. It was definitely one of your favorite features of his. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you gently caressed his sweaty face, brushing away the strands of hair that clung to his forehead. “You did so well today.”

Heeseung wasn’t naive, he could sense the undertone of “farewell” in your voice, almost as if you were ready to end the moment without a second thought. Yet, for him, that would have been a huge problem.

You hadn't reached your climax.

Finishing the water, he silently thanked you, and before you could stand up he stopped you, cupping your hand on his face with his own.

“But I’m– I’m your good boy, right?” His wide, shining eyes blinked up at you, the innocence in them belying the desire to be praised, laid bare behind those expressive orbs.

His words left you momentarily disoriented. Honestly, you had been willing to take care of your own needs alone, and there would have been no issue with that. But Heeseung was clearly eager for more, and the sight of him rubbing his cheek against your warm palm was more than enough to reignite the spark in you.

“You are,” you nodded again, lowering yourself just enough to kiss his soft, flushed lips. “My good boy,” you whispered against them, your words carrying a promise – a silent vow of how grateful you were to have him with you. Then, you pulled back, returning to your previous position.

Heeseung watched you with both curious and excited eyes, watching how you climbed on top of him, reoccupying the earlier position just to sit directly on his sensitive length. His abs clenched with the immediate and unwarned touch, his back curving forward while his hands flew to grab your waist.

You smirked, though it showed more than just raw desire; it had, lying underneath, the very affection that warmed your chest by knowing Heeseung would be down to anything with you. He let out another groan when you started to move back and forth ever so slightly to coat your own arousal around his cock and lubricate once more.

Also, it helped to make him hard again, and it was obvious how easily sensitive he was once you felt the stiffness growing beneath you.

“There you go,” you murmured cheekily, adjusting your height only to align Heeseung’s dick in your pulsing hole, not waiting a second as you felt it filling you. It was your time to choke a moan.

Your body relaxed almost completely to welcome him inside, leaning slightly forward as the overwhelming sensation of finally being filled with friction surged through you. You were just as eager as he was, and soon enough, your movements started without hesitation.

His touch lingered in the exact spot he once held you, and you had positioned yourself on the right angle so you could feel your clit rubbing against his pelvis, only deepening, urging, your pleasure.

With Heeseung’s length dragging across your tight, sensitive walls, it was undeniable your growing desire to finally cum, and with that you searched for the right pace to please both of you. Your eyes were closed as you focused on moving your hips in a steady motion.

On the back of your thoughts, however, there were the beautiful whimpers Heeseung was letting out, as he felt the third orgasm of the day building up too quickly. 

And you noticed, of course; you could feel him leaking in you. And… You couldn’t hide or prevent your teasing side to show up, so you asked, your mouth whispering moans and his name, but also having a grin that made you too lustful to look at.

“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?” 

You slowed your pace deliberately, watching Heeseung’s body react. A sharp gasp left his lips, his chest heaving, but no answer followed.

“Heeseung,” you called his name again, voice soft yet commanding, hoping to anchor his mind back to you, to keep him tethered amidst the pleasure clouding his thoughts. You purposely clenched. “Can you give me one more?”

A strangled noise caught in his throat, and his hips jerked up instinctively, chasing the friction he was so desperately losing. “Nnngh, fuck!” He was a writhing mess beneath you, legs trembling, unable to stay still as he practically fucked himself into you, searching for the sensation that had him spiraling. A quiet sob echoed from his lips.

“Babe, I won’t move until you answer,” you murmured, slowing your hips until they stilled completely. “I need your words.”

“Ah–no! Please, please, don’t…” His voice broke into a whimper, his entire body shuddering with the withdrawal of pleasure.

A burning sensation coiled deep inside him, pleasure and frustration mixing into something unbearable. His hands clutched desperately at your flesh, definitely marking the extension; his lips parted as he let out a shaking breath, his body twitching for any form of relief.

“Please…” The plea left him again, raw and unfiltered, but even he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for. For you to move again? For you to let him fall apart? For you to ruin him?

Your gaze flickered up, catching sight of his tear-streaked cheeks. His big, round eyes fluttered between half-lidded and tightly shut, brows furrowed in pure, pathetic desperation. His lips, swollen and parted, trembled slightly, whether from the overwhelming sensation or from how hard he had been biting them, you weren’t sure.

Then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Heeseung finally looked at you. You smiled at him, something soft, something appreciative, as if silently letting him know just how much you adored seeing him like this, completely unraveling in your hands.

But you wanted something. Something simple. Something so easy. Just his words.

“Hee…” Your tone turned warning, coaxing. “Words. Need your words, yeah?”

It was like a switch flipped inside him, acknowledging you would easily stop and leave him without his release, frustrated and helpless. His breath hitched, and then his entire body jolted like a shockwave had run through him, with his eyes flying open and his back arching as a frantic urgency flooded his tone.

“Yes! Yes, fuck–yes! I can give you–” His words cut off in a choked moan as you tightened your clenching, circling your hips in slow, deliberate motion. His fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling as his brain melted into pleasure.

But then you stopped. His whine was downright pathetic.

“Another,” he rushed out, panting, the desperation laced thick in his voice. “I can. I can give you another.”

A slow smirk tugged at your lips, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you leaned forward, already going back to roll your hips.

“Good boy, Hee.”

Due to the proximity of your mouths, you even tried to initiate a kiss, but it quickly turned messy, chaotic even, though your lips didn’t fully part. You both moaned into each other, breaths, sounds, and whispered desires blending into the creaking of the bed that shifted slightly under your relentless movements.

There was a deafening determination in the way you grinded against him, fast enough to give you pleasure and leave Heeseung completely broken.

And then, silence. At least, on his part. You tried to open your eyes to meet his, and through the blur, you caught a glimpse of his lips slightly parted, breathless, his eyes shut in the intensity of the moment.

Fully committed, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line, feeling the familiar tightness in your core signaling your impending climax. You also managed to get his dick brushing against your most sensitive spot, propelling you faster towards the edge.

Suddenly, Heeseung gasped for air and moaned loudly, filling you with his release, the pressure inside you intensifying. It was different from all the other reactions, and it would definitely stay with you. 

He was gorgeous, his neck completely exposed and glistening with sweat, his body trembling as he gasped and moaned beneath you. And, finally, with one last powerful movement, you reached your own peak, your body shaking in the aftermath, clinging to him as your world spun with the intensity of it all.

Heeseung, still a little lost in the moment, hugged you back. There were no words needed to express that this had been a significant moment for both of you, a journey through uncharted paths, where you respected each other’s desires and understood your own limits, while still daring to push beyond them a little.

It felt different and fulfilling to be with someone like that, your thoughts syncing in unspoken understanding. And that simple embrace, though messy and sweaty from your shared experience, was more than enough to mark the beginning of something new.

A new chapter.

[blubunz]

OBSESSION, INFATUATION, CONFESSION

— leon s. kennedy x gn! reader

Tags: the title says it all actually.

A/N: I'll work on other fics and stuff later I promise! Been busy lately and my period does not help lmao grah omg,, so I only have a short little thing for you guys :(

Leon who views himself as tainted, a hollow shell of a man, a weapon only to serve the government and protecting other tainted people.

He's got no right view of the typical romance he'd read or seen. Those typical rom-coms and books are just fictional to him. Well, in his line of work, he doesn't have the mind to view the world as a silly rom-com.

But, he knows what he wants when he sees you. Just a quick meeting, no deep conversation whatsoever yet somehow you have managed to make Leon think he was in highschool again by how his heart is thumping loud and palms sweaty from nervousness.

He doesn't let it show, obviously. But the moment you were gone, his knees crumbled and he has to lean on a wall nearby to steady himself.

God, he's already past his 20s. He's not that young, certainly doesn't look the part. But you make him feel like a teenager, a boy who only worries about impressing his crush rather than bioterrorism.

Day after day, Leon sees you even more radiant, like an angel. He might as well worship you and kiss the ground you walk on. He has to resist that urge, to fall on his knees, begging you to be with him, to hug you and feel your bright aura as he take the wings off to keep you forever with him.

To him, you are everything. Even if his everything should be his job, typically his life depends on it. But not to how Leon sees it. To him, you're providing him air to breathe when you're near. You're giving him a purpose to live his days even more productive, not just throwing himself carelessly here and there just to get things over with.

To you, however, you're not...that special. And you aren't. You're just like anyone else. You're not some hero in a movie, or some angel sent from heaven. You're you. A human with feelings and thoughts about simple things like what to eat, or just getting annoyed at something during your work.

You're aware you're not that crazy, big, admirable figure that everyone knows. Just a nice person doing their best throughout the days.

Yet, Leon's absolutely infatuated with you.

You never noticed it during your usual meetings, but you grow to realise how big of an impact you have on Leon when he's ticked off by the knowledge that you had troubled at work, caused by someone he doesn't even know. It's normal to you, annoying, but normal, everyone has to have a few bad experiences at work. But Leon's fuming, like it was him experiencing it and not you.

And on some random days, you would receive gifts. It's not consistent, but not entirely rare. Seeing a box by your desk every now and then with his initials written on the box. Each time, it was something different, but what they all have in common is that they're all expensive. You already have enough perfume and jewelries by now, with more than enough clothes that you don't need to go shopping anymore. You're slightly scared of how Leon knows your size and what your preferences are.

Nonetheless, you embrace it, and Leon can't be happier. He's an absolute gentleman, doing everything for you as much as he could and treating you to fancy dinners.

He does all of them so easily, but when he finds the perfect time to properly confess to you, he's shaking like a leaf. Leon wants to slap himself at how similar he is to a schoolboy, with you standing before him with a curious expression, and him sweating bullets with a whole paragraph well-constructed in his mind.

His first few words are heavy and shaky. You're almost concerned he'd just cry and run off, but Leon holds himself still, trying to speak his heart out to you.

He freezes when you smile. Honestly, you've predicted it. No one's just nice enough to give you expensive gifts and treating you out like a royal.

“So, is...is it a yes...?”

“Yes, Leon, it is.”

[partydemoman]

I'm not an ask blog, but I wanted to answer these anyway. Answering for my Wol, Naraya Tuivione

1. It would depend on who is doing the perceiving. Someone who hasn't seen many Au Ra might think she is a child/teen given her short stature, while anyone with combat training will notice that she has the air of a highly experienced warrior. In general, though, most people's first impression might be her air of competence. People can easily see that this is a woman who knows what she is doing.

2. Naraya was born in the Azim Steppe, but has spent most of her life in Eorzea, particularly spending most of her childhood in Gridania.

3. At first she followed Oschon the Wanderer, but after dealing with primals for so long she has become kinda desensitized to all things divine and doesn't really care anymore (If the Endwalker Alliance Raids would change this, don't spoil me. I haven't played them yet)

4. She is an only child, both to her birth parents and her adopted family.

5. Her birth father specifically didn't influence her in that way since he wanted her to choose her own path. Her adopted mom kind of did, but only in that she picked up archery to follow in her mom's footsteps.

6. Naraya treats pretty much everyone the same, in that she won't hesitate to help anyone who is in need. There was the exception of the beast tribes for most of the story, since they were all tempered, but now that that isn't a factor she'll gladly help out the allied societies just as much as anyone else.

7. Naraya has, admittedly, felt somewhat forced to play the part of World Saving Adventurer/Hero for a while, since she felt she is pretty much the only one strong enough to succeed at what she does. Since the end of Endwalker, though, she has been able to put more focus on being an adventurer, and it has been a massive breath of fresh air. As for side gigs, she is a rather talented singer, musician, and dancer, having acquired both the Bard and Dancer jobs. She doesn't really perform, per se, but mostly uses them for small personal things. For example, she created the songs Dragonsong, Tomorrow And Tomorrow, and Footfalls, and sings little bits of Flow to calm herself down at times.

8. At first, she learned each job from the in-game mentors but has since iterated on each of them to suit her style. She also taught herself a style that uses her ability to hot-swap between jobs mid battle to make a fighting style that is really hard to counter, swapping between weapons and styles rapidly while maintaining coherence and proper technique.

9. Naraya likes the neutrality of the Scions and uses it to help as many people as possible across nation borders, rather than tying herself to one specific nation.

10. It would vary. Sometimes, she'll take walks, make little doodads out of metal or wood, spend time with the Doman Adventurer's Guild, things like that.

11. I don't really use minions much, myself, but probably either Midgardsormer or the Starbird.

12. I haven't done enough with the Allied Societies to really say.

13. Naraya lost her adopted mom, Asene, who was on patrol near Fallgourd Float when the Calamity happened. Naraya herself was in Gridania and managed to make it through relatively unscathed.

14. I've made the occasional small change, like a specific line of dialog or Naraya's exact relationship with a character, but I've generally stuck pretty close to Canon.

15. I don't ship my wol with anyone so I don't have any screenshots like that.. Something something aroace.

16. Am I allowed to say Venat? I'm gonna say Venat.

17. I would absolutely save Haurchefant. I'm not having it happen in my Canon since his sacrifice was extremely meaningful and I want to keep it, but damn do I want to save him.

18. There really isn't anyone for me, so I'm gonna flip this around and say a villain I kinda wish we hadn't persuaded to join our side: Bakool Ja Ja. I can definitely see what they were going for and him joining our side is… fine. But he had been a relentless monster for the whole expansion up to that point. I'm not a huge fan of how quickly he flipped around to our side.

19. So long as there are new and exciting things and places to see, Naraya is right where she wants to be.

20. As I said, I don't ship my wol with anyone, so no, she doesn't have any plans to settle down like that.

21. Probably a really low stakes adventure. Just enough to see some new things and new places, but nothing especially important in the grand scheme of things.

22. Our journey will never end.

23. Naraya might be tempted to forget a few things, but ending up like Elidibus is an unimaginably horrible fate to her. She wouldn't take the risk.

24. Let's go Gambling! No, not really.

25. No, I don't really interact with FCs, and neither would she.

26. Light/Astral aether. Constant activity.

27. I've never actually thought to make any other shards before, but I have some lore for my Azem, who I've named Mnemosyne after the Greek Titaness of memory.

28. Naraya is fascinated by all things Amarotine, partly because she wants to learn all she can about Azem.

29. They're cute! Though they can be kinda hard to deal with sometimes.

30. It feels anticlimactic to say, but I don't have any.

I decided to make a very in depth and fun ffxiv oc question meme! (Feel free to steal and use)

[chenlezip]

first time with dreamies

⤷ summary : how your first time with dreamies goes.

warning : fluff but mixed with smut sorta, there’s nothing really wrote out but it’s hinting to it so.. will be a read more added.

MARK LEE :

“Fuck, I’ve never— I’ve never done this before—“ “That’s fine. We can take it slow. It’s all about you, okay?” Mark reassured you lightly as he placed your back against the mattress. You felt comfortable with him obviously but you just were so nervous about having sex with him for the first time time - especially since he was experienced and you weren’t. Your fingers were gently playing with his tshirt, you avoided eye contact.

He could tell you were too in your mind - overthinking so much. He shook his head and tilted your head up so he could meet your eyes, “You’re thinking too much..” He whispered. You sigh, “I-It’s just your experienced and I’m—“

He quickly shut you up by pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I don’t care, this is about us, not my past. That doesn’t matter. Just tell me to stop and I will, okay?”

HUANG RENJUN :

“If it’s too much, tell me. I don’t want you being overwhelmed okay? And I don’t want you forcing yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Renjun explained, he could see that you were nervous. God, it was written all over your face. It was worse that you couldn’t even spit it out to him that you were comfortable- you were very comfortable with him.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I’m like this.” You look down, playing with your fingers and Renjun just chuckled, “Shush, don’t apologise about something that isn’t your problem. I’d wait forever if it meant that you’d be comfortable enough for this.”

“I’m comfortable.. I just..” “Not the right timing, hm? Don’t worry. We’ll take our time.”

LEE JENO :

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready…” Jeno murmurs, and you shake your head, arms only tightening around his neck. “I’m ready. And I trust you,” You whisper, pulling him down for a kiss by the nape of his neck. He hummed in response and smiled, pulling back so he could look at you properly. He moved between your legs, “Yeah?” he murmured, voice so low it was almost lost between you two. He lifted his hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb gently across your cheek, “Yeah.” You whisper.

Jeno moved his hands down to your waist, taking a gentle grip and moving your hips closer to his, “Tell me if I hurt you, alright, pretty?”

LEE HAECHAN :

“I don’t know if I can do this.” “That’s okay. We don’t have to do this. You want to cuddle instead?” Haechan suggested, he didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want to do. That would be the last thing he would do on earth. That offer made something in your chest unclench; relief, gratitude, love even.. you felt yourself getting choked up.

Haechan reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with such tenderness. “I mean it, seriously, we do not have to do this. I’d hate to ever put you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable when I want the best for you- for us. C’mon, put something nice on.” He chuckled as he moved you to his side, placing your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, hyuck.”

NA JAEMIN :

You let out an unrestrained whimper and then slap a hand over your mouth, your cheeks reddening in embarrassment, and jaemin just chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your blushing cheek. “Don’t be shy baby, it’s normal to let noises out like that when you feel good, ‘kay?” He continued rubbing small circles to your inner thigh, gripping tightly once again which made you whine and buck your hips.

He loved seeing you like this, he had to bite his lip and control the thoughts swirling around his head, reminding himself that you’re new to this and to not put you through so much already.

ZHONG CHENLE :

“I’m so embarrassed—” “It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. It’s a safe space, okay?” Your boyfriend mumbled as he held you tightly against him, his voice calming to you. You tried to cover yourself up but Chenle took your hands and pinned them up against your head, “Don’t hide yourself. You’re beautiful..” He whispered, placing soft kisses from your lips trailing down to your collarbone.

“You’re so, so perfect..” He continued, moving further down to your chest. You blushed, looking down at him as you moved a hand to his hair, “Le..”

PARK JISUNG :

“Is this okay?” “Yeah, that— that’s okay. Please— keep going.” Jisung pleaded with you as he threw his head back, a whimper exiting his lips. You gulp, watching him with dazed eyes as you made sure he felt comfortable and that you were doing things right. Jisung helped you through it, you stroked his thigh and leaned in closer to where he wanted you the most. “Mhm..” He hummed, slipping further down the chair he was sat in.

You smile at the male, “let me know if i don’t do something right, okay? want you to feel good..” you whisper.

[goldentreasuredump]

I love my Beast/Ancient fan kids wayy too much and I'm making it everyone else's problem. So take this lore and art dump!

In this Au (that doesn't have a name yet) There are ten fankids in total, but the "main characters" are the Shadownilla kids. Because of course they are

The general backstory for these guys is that they were made in a lab using the stolen DNA of both beasts and ancients (don't ask how the scientists got said stolen DNA, I don't have an answer). They were created to be "the ultimate cookies" but it backfired horribly for the scientists as all ten kids are more ancient than beast and are far more pure and genuinely good than what was planned. Then the kids planed a jail break, escaped the lab, stole an air ship, and set off for the Vanilla Kingdom.

Now, why the Vanilla Kingdom specifically? Simple! The Vanilla Kingdom is a place where all cookies can live together, no matter their flavor or texture. So of course this would be the safest place for half-beast cookies to seek temporary asylum. Pure Vanilla is also the safest out of all of the Ancients for the kids to go to as this au takes place between chapters 6 and 7, so Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese have already experienced the horror of their beasts and they don't need children who are half beast. So Pure Vanilla becomes a single father of ten for a good chunk of time.

Once they all settle in and calm down, Pure Vanilla does call for the other Ancients to come get their kids but they happens later. I dont have a lot of stuff for the other kids as I personally don't like Mystic Flour or Burning Spice all that much, and the other two beast aren't out yet...

The Beasts have absolutely no clue that these kids exist and are absent for most of story until the kids go off to live with their respective Ancient parent.

The reason why Shadow Milk specifically doesn't know the kids exist is because of Half Moon. She was the first kid to be baked and was made with dark moon magic, she does have access to the dark side of the moon but her powers act as more of a Shadow Milk repellent. Kinda like forcing the same side of two magnets together. So once Half Moon was made, Smilk lost access to the lab, which confuses the heck outta him. And once she's in PV's care, Smilk loses access to Pv as well. Smilk is confused, angry, and I love bullying him.

I should also add that in the beginning, the trio absolutely adores Pure Vanilla and do NOT like Shadow Milk. Like at all. They hate him.

Half Moon can tolerate Smilk. She does want a relationship with Smilk because he is their other parent, but she's heard to horror stories and makes sure to keep a safe distance between him and her siblings cause she has the power to do so. Half Moon is out here protecting her family from the deranged gay jester 🫡

Half Moon and Smilk probably have the best relationship out of all of the kids but thats saying something. The bar is on the floor.

Vanilla Extract DESPISES Smilk and rejects the very idea of being related to him. Extract was literally baked in PV's image and was supposed to be a healer as well, but the little bit of Smilk in him ruined everyone. Extract is the only member of the family who can use or learn healing magic and he blames Smilk for it. Extract is just so full of teenage angst, it's great.

Blueberry Orchid is the baby of the family and is probably the most successful creation out of the ten. She is the living embodiment of pureness and truth baked into a baby sheep girl. Orchid is incapable of lying and is basically a human (cookie?) lie detector. Smilk annoys her because she knows he's lying to her, so she ignores him every chance she gets in that sassy child way! It amuses everyone else but Smilk's poor ego cant handle the amount of sass this child is giving him.

Shadow Milk has to win over each kid and PV but they will eventually be a happy family! But it will take a while. Im an absolute sucker for domestic fluff and the idea of these two raises children (One young adult, a teenager and a child) is so so so amusing. I need that found family, I need the angst and hurt comfort, I need Shadow Milk to step up and be a better guardian cause he's doing a shit job with Candy Apple and Black Sapphire! Shadow Milk dad redemption here and now!!

[count-on-mi]

AU Twice IS Side Story “Interview” (Twice Mina)

‘Thank you, Miss Kwon, today’s interview is over. Thanks for coming. Honestly, you have a really high chance to be employed.’ You stand up and offer your hands for shaking.

‘Thanks, Mr. Y/N, just call me Eunbi, I am looking forward to work with you too.’ Eunbi shakes her hand with you, you can feel her finger is flirting your palm, you two just smile before you sending her out. ‘It’s going to have so much fun.’ You talk to yourself.

As your original secretary has resigned, you are now employing a new one to replace her, among all the shortlist candidates, Eunbi is the most suitable, she is experienced, have a high ability on working, of course her big tits are another bonus point for you to consider hiring her.

‘Boss, the last interviewee is here, should I invite her in?’ Your subordinate Sana calls you through the extension.

‘No, Sana, you can let her go. I think Eunbi, no, Miss Kwon would be the most suitable candidates. You can also contact HR for drafting the contract, thanks Sana.’

‘Sorry, you can’t come in…’ You hear some noise outside, You stand up to see what is happening. The door is opened, Sana and a pretty woman enters your room. ‘Sorry, boss, the interviewee desperately wants to enter your room, I can’t stop her.’

‘Please Mr. Y/N, please at least give me a chance.’ You turn around to look at the interviewee, a pretty woman, much younger than Eunbi, although her tits are much smaller, her bodies is hotter, especially her ass, it’s so big that you want to spank it hardly. The interviewee blushes when she see you are scanning her body.

‘Take a seat, madam. You have earned your chance, I will give you five minutes to convince me.; You sit down and signal Sana to leave your room.

Thank you, Sir. I am… I am Myoui Mina, you can call me Mina or Minari, I am a Japanese and a fresh graduate from University of…’ You feels so fun so you just interrupt her, ‘Sorry Miss Mina, sorry to interrupt, but isn’t the things you mentioned all included in your resume? May I see it first? Remember you only have 5 minutes, take your time.

‘Oh, yes, sorry Mr. Here’s my CV, ah… Sorry.’ Mina take the documents from her bag, but she is too nervous, and she just falls all her documents on the ground. She seems panic and immediately kneels down to pick up the document.  ‘Sorry, Mr., sorry Mr.’ Mina keep saying sorry. At your vision, you can see Mina’ ass arcs up as she is crawling on the ground. ‘Wow, such a great ass.’ You talk to yourself in mind, you can even see her pants in the dress, you feel your cock starts to erect, perhaps you just do not have sex with your girlfriend Nayeon for too long, the sight of Mina’s ass and pants make you feel horny, you start imaging how would her pussy look like.

You untied your belt and slowly started jerking yourself under the table while enjoying the view. Mina is different form all the girls you have hooked up with, She is very innocent but having a hot body. Your balance in your hearts slowly turn towards Mina. You are still masturbating while Mina is presenting herself, her innocence makes you turned on. You moan her name lightly, imaging her serving you under the table.

Mina witness your face change to red so quickly, and hear you keep saying her name. ‘Sorry, boss, did Minari doing something wrong, please give me a chance. I need this job, I don’t want to back to Japan.’ Mina is so worried and she stands up and walk towards your seat.

‘No, Mina, sit down, don’t get that close…’ You already near your orgasm, so your hands stroking faster and faster, not wanting to stop.’ Mina stands from her seat.

You heart nearly pop out of your heart when Mina is approaching you. You consider to stop but the way Mina leans over toward you make you feel like she’s the one that stroking you. You stares on her exposed cleavage as she bends down.

‘Please stop staring me so intently, Mr...’ Mina blushes and turns her head down. ‘You think I am really good looking?’

Seeing Mina has overcome her shyness, you are more excited, you want to see how the innocent girl would reacts, your hand strokes faster, your sight fallen in Mina’s cleavage, you feel your cock starts to throb, you need to release it desperately.

‘What are you hiding under the table, Mr. Is it other candidate’s resume? Mina walks towards you and grabs the handle of your chair, she wanna check what you are hiding. Mina’s breast is now right in front of you face, you can smell the scent of her perfume.

Mina finally discovered that you are masturbating to her, she wanna push your chair back, but it’s just too late, you reach your orgasm and thrust your hips, you cum waves of cum on her clothes.

You two stare at each other, don’t know what you can say.

‘What did you just do to me, Mr. It’s… It’s all over me, oy my god.’

‘Ok, Mina, let’s calm down, I should clean it up first, you can do it Mina.’ Mina cleans her finger before grabs a tissue box and kneels down in front of you. Mina starts to clean you still erected cock with the tissue, your cock twitches when she is stroking you.

‘Can you stop moving, Sir?’ Mina seems frustrated that you cock keep twitching in her hand.

‘It’s a part of test for the interview, let me see how you can do it.’ You tease her and just sit on your chair, let her clean your cock.

Mina thinks a while, them she use another hand to grab you base, squeezing it lightly, make sure it don’t move anymore. Meanwhile, Mina is still stroking your cock with tissue, wanting to clean you completely. Your cock is still sensitive from the previous orgasm, the sensation is so good, you feel another wave of pleasure is building.

You can’t hold on anymore, so you let the pleasure overtakes you and you cum in her hand again. ‘Ah, Mina, you are doing a good job.’ You thrust in her palms, aiming for extend your orgasm.

‘Again, why would you cum before I clean you properly? Is it all of them?’ Mina blushes again and stop stroking you, she cleans her fingers and then stand up, unsure what she should do.

You keep turned on by Mina’s innocence, you decide that she is the most suitable choice as your secretary, you already forgot about Eunbi’ s large breast, it is not hard to find a secretary with great body, it is much more hard to find a totally untrained young lady, it is an achievement that you can train a young lady to your plaything.

You stand up and grab her arms, ‘Mina, if you want to get the job, there is one more test for you, ready?’ You slowly guide her lay on your table. ‘A secretary need to help the boss to ease his stress away.’ You guide her hands to your still harden cock, ‘Can you feel how much stress I am having? It’s time for you to do the duty.’ You smirks and start rubbing her clit with your cock.

‘I don’t know how to do it, sir. Ah…, it feels so strange. Ah…’ Mina moans slightly and hide her head on your shoulder. You feel her pussy starts to get wet, you align your cock and ready to thrust in. “Just let me do it, relax, Mina, is it your first time?’

Mina shyly nods, ‘ Yes, sir, please be gentle… Ah’ Mina stops as your assault her, you thrust all in and your break her hymen. ‘Ah, stop, boss, pull out, it’s so pain, pull out!’ You ignores Mina and gently kissing her, you hands slightly play with her nipples, distracting her pain and allow her to adjust cock.

‘Ah, it feels so strange, I don’t know how to explain it… Ah…’ Seeing Mina is ready, you pull out and thrust in again. ‘Ah, what is this feeling.. Faster Sir, it feels so good.’ You stop again, and teasing her.

‘Why do you stop, its feeling good, please continue.’ Seeing Mina is addicted to your cock, you are satisfied. ‘Is little Mina wanting boss’s cock, does Mina wants to be Boss’s secretary.’

‘Yes, boss, please give it to me, Mina always belongs to Boss.’ Waiting for this answer for a long time, you start fucking Mina again. ‘Ah, yes, boss, Minari is so full. Minari loves your cock so much.’ Mina moans loudly as you fuck her real quick.

‘No, boss, please stop… Mina is going to pee, No, no!’ Mina soon reaches her first orgasm of her life. Her walls tightly wrapping you, you are struggle to thrust in, but you do not stop, you keep fucking her, chasing your own orgasm. You thrust all in hardly, and you feels like you have entered the entrance of her womb, the suction is much more strong compared to her pussy. You can’t hold on anymore, and cum all of your cum in her womb. ‘Mina take it all, be Mine!’ You moan loudly when you cum in her.

‘Yes, Boss, Minari will always be yours…” Mina hugs you tightly when she reaches her second orgasm. You pull out and see a mixture of white and red dripping from her pussy, you took her virginity.

‘Yes, yes, Eunbi is no longer a suitable candidate, I have decided to hire Myoui Mina. Ah… Yes, please help me for the documentation works. Thanks Sana.’ You end the call, and looks at Mina under your table who is giving you a blow job. ‘No, Mina, use your tongue, not your teeth.’

‘Sorry, boss, I will do better next time.’ Seeing Mina’s innocent face, you are turned on again, you put her on your table and start fuck her again. ‘Maybe I should train your another lips first, Mina.’

‘As your wish, boss, please use Minari as you want.’ Mina starts moaning again.

[andy-15-07]

Hello, could you do a Pedro Pascal x fReader curvy CIA agent, they meet for the first time and go on a date, Pedro after the date goes home and says he found his soulmate and has a silly smile, exuding happiness

Secret Hearts and Stardust

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2854 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The evening was unusually warm as you stepped out of your sleek, black sedan and into the softly lit ambiance of The Gilded Lily—a chic little restaurant known for its intimate vibe and artfully curated jazz background. You, a curvy CIA agent who’d spent years blending into shadows and decoding secrets, were now about to step into a light you rarely allowed yourself: vulnerability. Tonight was different. Tonight, you had a date with none other than Pedro Pascal.

Standing near the entrance, your heart pounded a curious rhythm as you smoothed down the fabric of your form-fitting emerald dress. The dress hugged every curve of your body, a gentle yet assertive declaration of self-love and confidence, a far cry from the utilitarian uniforms of your everyday covert life. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on him: Pedro, leaning casually against a polished mahogany bar, his dark eyes scanning the room until they rested warmly on you. A slight, self-assured smile played on his lips as he stepped forward.

“Good evening,” he said in that familiar, mellifluous tone that had captivated audiences around the world. “I’m Pedro.” His voice carried an effortless charm, and even in the bustling atmosphere, it seemed to wrap around you like a protective cloak.

“Hello, Pedro. I’m Y/N,” you replied, offering a handshake that quickly evolved into a brief, knowing smile. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

Pedro’s laughter was light and genuine. “Neither was I, but sometimes the most delightful surprises are the ones we don’t plan for.” His eyes crinkled with amusement as he gestured to a quiet booth in the corner, its warm lighting promising an oasis of conversation away from the clamor of the restaurant.

As you both settled into the booth, the conversation began with the casual ease of old friends reuniting after a long separation. Over a shared appetizer of truffle fries and a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc, you discovered how Pedro’s day had been spent balancing film shoots with unexpected moments of hilarity, while you recounted a day filled with high-stakes meetings and covert operations that were as challenging as they were unyielding.

“So, you work in… a field that requires a lot of discretion?” Pedro inquired, leaning in as if he were about to unravel an intriguing mystery.

You smiled wryly. “Discretion is an understatement. I’m in the intelligence community—a CIA agent, if you can believe it. I spend my days untangling webs of secrets and navigating through a maze of lies.” Your tone was light, yet behind your eyes lay the depth of experiences that few could imagine.

His eyebrows lifted in genuine interest. “That sounds like something straight out of a spy novel. I can only imagine the stories you must have.”

You chuckled softly. “Stories? I suppose I have a few, but not all of them are meant for dinner conversations. The life I lead is often hidden behind layers of duty and codes. But tonight, I’m glad to share some of the lighter moments. After all, everyone deserves a break.”

Pedro’s eyes sparkled as he leaned back, clearly fascinated. “Well, tonight you’re giving me a glimpse into a world I’d never experience otherwise. And trust me, I’m all for experiencing the unexpected.”

The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by moments of laughter, reflective silences, and the occasional shared anecdote. Pedro recounted tales from his travels on set, the odd mishap with a prop that turned into an impromptu comedy skit, and the time he had to improvise during a tense scene. You, in turn, found yourself sharing snippets of your life that were seldom told—the thrill of chasing leads in distant lands, the camaraderie of working with a team that trusted you with their lives, and even the surreal feeling of living two different lives: one defined by duty and the other by moments of genuine connection.

“Do you ever wish you could just… step away from it all?” Pedro asked quietly, his gaze earnest as he took a sip of his wine.

For a moment, you considered the question. “Every single day,” you admitted, “but then I remember that it’s not the work, it’s the mission—the idea that I’m making a difference in some small way. Still, nights like these remind me that there’s more to life than secrets and strategies.”

Pedro nodded, his expression softening. “I get that. Sometimes, being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either. You’re always playing a part, always expected to be something or someone. But tonight, I want to just be with you—no pretenses, no roles. Just two people sharing a moment.”

As the evening deepened, so did your connection. The restaurant’s gentle hum faded into the background as your conversation ventured into more personal territories. You spoke about your childhood dreams and how life had taken unexpected turns, while Pedro confessed his own struggles with living up to the image the world expected of him. There was a sense of relief in laying aside the masks you both wore every day.

“Tell me,” Pedro said with a teasing glint in his eye, “what’s something about you that no one would guess?”

You paused, considering the layers of your life. “Well,” you began, leaning in conspiratorially, “I can infiltrate some of the most secure facilities in the world, but I still sometimes struggle to assemble IKEA furniture without losing my mind.”

His laughter filled the booth, warm and infectious. “Now that, I would love to see. I can only imagine the epic battle of man versus Allen wrench.”

Between bites of dessert—an exquisite molten chocolate cake—and sips of a decadent port wine, the evening turned into a series of joyful revelations and shared confidences. Pedro’s charm wasn’t just in his celebrity aura but in the genuine curiosity he had about the world and the people in it. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t anticipated, shedding a layer of guarded professionalism to reveal the person behind the badge.

“You know,” Pedro said, his tone shifting to something more contemplative as he looked into your eyes, “life is full of unexpected encounters. I’m beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, I’m in the middle of one of those surprises right now.”

A gentle blush warmed your cheeks. “I’m glad you think so. It’s rare to find someone who can see past the surface, to appreciate the complexities beneath.”

He smiled, a soft, silly smile that hinted at a profound joy. “I have a confession to make.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a near-whisper that somehow made the words feel even more intimate. “Tonight has been unlike any other date I’ve ever been on. I know it sounds crazy, but I think... I think I’ve found my soulmate.”

The words hung in the air, a delicate promise wrapped in sincerity. For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his confession mingling with the joy of the evening. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a dramatic declaration—it was a quiet, honest admission that resonated deep within you.

“Pedro…” you began, searching his eyes for a trace of jest, “that’s a big statement for a first date.”

He chuckled, a light, self-deprecating sound that belied the intensity of his feelings. “I know, I know. It might seem impulsive, but I can’t shake this feeling. There’s something about you—something real—that makes all the chaos of my life seem worth it. I’ve met a lot of people, played many parts, but with you, it’s like I can finally drop the act.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. In that moment, all the complexities of your secretive world and his public persona seemed to converge into one perfect truth: that connection, genuine and unexpected, had the power to transform everything.

After dinner, you both took a slow walk along the moonlit boulevard that lined the river. The city lights danced on the water, casting shifting patterns of gold and silver. The conversation continued effortlessly—this time, quieter, more reflective. Pedro shared a memory of his grandmother’s advice about always following one’s heart, while you recalled a rare moment of vulnerability from a past mission that had left an indelible mark on your soul.

“Do you ever worry that we’re just... too different?” you asked softly as you paused at a quiet overlook, the city sprawling before you like a living tapestry.

Pedro considered your words, his gaze drifting to the horizon before returning to meet yours. “I think it’s our differences that make this so exciting. I come from a world of bright lights and constant scrutiny, while you navigate the shadows with a grace I can hardly imagine. But maybe that’s exactly what we need—a balance, a merging of two disparate worlds.”

You smiled, feeling the tension in your chest ease as the thought sank in. “A balance,” you echoed. “I like that.”

There was a gentle pause, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the soft rustling of leaves in the night breeze. Pedro reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a tender gesture. “I’m not saying everything will be perfect. Life never is. But what I do know is that I want to explore this connection—every unpredictable, exhilarating moment of it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you squeezed his hand in silent agreement. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. No expectations, just us figuring it out as we go.”

As the night wound down, you found yourself back at the restaurant’s entrance, reluctant to part ways but knowing that the evening was far too special to end on a hurried goodbye. Pedro walked you to your car, the warmth of his hand lingering on yours a promise of more to come.

“You know,” he said as you reached your vehicle, “tonight has been nothing short of magical. I can’t remember the last time I felt this... alive.”

You paused, meeting his gaze. “I feel the same, Pedro. Thank you for a truly unforgettable evening.”

After a final lingering look and a gentle kiss on your cheek, you climbed into your car, the gentle hum of the engine mingling with the soft afterglow of your shared moments. Meanwhile, Pedro lingered by the doorway, watching until you were safely out of sight. With a small, silly smile that betrayed his inner joy, he muttered to himself, “I’ve found my soulmate.” The words, simple yet profound, echoed in the quiet of the night as he slowly walked away, each step buoyed by the newfound happiness that filled him.

Later that night, as Pedro finally reached the solitude of his apartment, he couldn’t help but replay the evening’s events in his mind. Standing in front of his mirror, he caught his own reflection—a man whose eyes shone with a mix of wonder and certainty. “I’ve found my soulmate,” he repeated softly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. The admission was not just a fleeting thought but a declaration that resonated deeply within him—a truth that had emerged from the shared vulnerability of an evening spent connecting beyond the masks and roles they both carried.

The next morning, Pedro’s phone buzzed with messages from friends congratulating him on the mysterious and captivating woman he’d met. With every notification, his heart swelled a little more, and as he sipped his morning coffee, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of your laughter, the way your eyes had lit up when you spoke about chasing justice in a world of secrets, and how you had, in that moment, allowed him a glimpse into your soul.

Meanwhile, as the day unfolded for you, you found yourself reflecting on the previous night with a mix of awe and cautious hope. Life in the intelligence community rarely allowed for such moments of unabashed honesty. You recalled Pedro’s words, his vulnerable confession echoing in your thoughts, and wondered how a man so steeped in the glitz of fame could see the raw, unguarded parts of you that you usually kept hidden. Yet, somehow, in that brief interlude, the distance between two very different worlds had dissolved into nothing more than a shared human experience.

During a quiet break in your hectic day, you picked up your phone and sent a simple message to Pedro: “Last night was incredible. I hope we can do it again soon.” His response was almost immediate: “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see you again, Y/N” There was something so comforting in that exchange—a promise that, despite the chaos of your respective lives, there was now a space where both of you could be completely authentic.

That evening, as you prepared to wind down, you found yourself replaying the night’s memories in your mind. The gentle cadence of Pedro’s voice, the twinkle in his eyes when he spoke about following one’s heart, and the quiet strength in his declaration—it was all so unexpected and so real. In your line of work, trust was hard-earned and vulnerability was often a liability. But with him, it felt like a risk worth taking, a rare chance at genuine connection.

Across town, Pedro settled into his couch, a contented smile still curving his lips as he scrolled through photos from past events and snippets of fan messages. Yet none of them compared to the authenticity of last night. “I’m not one to believe in soulmates,” he mused aloud to his reflection in the darkened room, “but maybe I should start reconsidering.” His mind drifted back to the way your laughter had filled the quiet corners of that intimate booth, the subtle way you had looked at him as if you were reading between the lines of his carefully crafted persona. The memory was enough to make him feel like a young man again, full of dreams and possibilities.

It wasn’t long before Pedro picked up his phone once more to send a quick, playful text to a close friend who had always known his heart better than anyone else. “I think I met someone who might just be the real deal. I’ve found my soulmate, and I can’t wipe this silly grin off my face.” The response was immediate—a mix of teasing banter and heartfelt congratulations that warmed him even more.

Over the next few days, both of you found subtle ways to integrate these newfound feelings into your everyday lives. In the midst of strategic briefings and covert assignments, your thoughts would stray to that magical evening, to Pedro’s honest words and the undeniable spark that lingered in the air long after the night had ended. And Pedro, in the midst of film shoots and press interviews, found himself waiting eagerly for the next time he’d get to see you—curious to discover more about the woman who had so effortlessly disarmed him.

One lazy afternoon, as you sat in a quiet corner of a bustling café—your temporary refuge from the relentless pace of your work—a familiar notification popped up on your phone. It was a message from Pedro: “How about dinner tomorrow night? I’d love to hear more about your adventures in the field…and share a few more of mine.” You couldn’t help but smile as you typed your reply, feeling that same spark of anticipation that had made you step out of your comfort zone just a few nights before.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” you replied. “I have a few stories that might just rival your tales from behind the scenes. See you then, Pedro.”

That simple exchange carried with it the promise of new beginnings—a chance to weave together the disparate threads of two lives that had found each other in the most unlikely of ways. And while the world around you continued to spin with the weight of secrets and staged performances, there was now a corner of your heart that belonged solely to the memory of a date that had redefined what it meant to be truly seen.

In the end, it wasn’t just the allure of Pedro Pascal’s celebrity or the thrill of stepping out of your usual guarded persona that made that night unforgettable. It was the authenticity of a moment when two people allowed themselves to be vulnerable, honest, and open to the possibility of something extraordinary. A moment when a curvy CIA agent and a celebrated actor discovered that beneath all the layers of duty and public image, there lay a simple, undeniable truth: that sometimes, in the most unexpected encounters, you find the person who makes all the risks and uncertainties of life seem utterly worthwhile.

And so, as you closed your eyes that night, memories of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and promises of tomorrow gently lulled you into a peaceful sleep. Somewhere in the city, Pedro did the same, his silly smile a constant reminder of the joy that had unexpectedly blossomed between you. In the delicate interplay of shadows and light, in the blending of two very different worlds, you both had discovered something rare—a spark of soul-deep connection that would forever alter the course of your lives.

[mayday2007]

Daryl Dixon nsfw alphabet

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and posting it on the internet for people to see, so be nice or imma hunt ya down (jkjk). Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. P.S if you see any mistakes, no you don't.

~

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Contrary to popular opinion, I think that Daryl wouldn't quite get the whole concept of "aftercare" in the beginning. I think that all the poor guy has for reference is porn and Merle, I also recon that he was a virgin. Merle's preferred sex session was a "fuck-and-dump", so Daryl didn't think it was normal for people to "bask in the afterglow". But, eventually, with your guidance, he realised that it wasn't too bad, and gave it a go. Now, he can't have sex and not give you water and cuddles afterwards.

★

B=Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partners)

I think Daryl is more of an ass kinda guy. Sure, he likes looking at tits as much as the next dude, but there's something about a woman's ass and hips that draws him in. He likes to squeeze, and grope, anything to get him and you to cum.

He likes his arms and his hands. No two ways about it. I think he likes them because, I mean, they're handy. They are one of the sole reasons why he's helpful. Because he's good with his hands, and he's strong. But he doesn't just like them because of that, be likes them because you've said on multiple occasions that you like them. It makes him feel like a big, strong man.

★

C=Cum (basically anything to do with cum)

Daryl Dixon is a certified creampie lover. He can't help it. It's in his nature. It's just so warm and tight, he never wants to leave, so cumming inside you is his go to thing (if you guys don't have birth control pills, he'll wear a condom, but only until you find another pack, then he's cummin' inside at LEAST three times).

★

D=Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He's waiting impatiently for the day that he has the courage to ask you to try bondage with him. The idea of his hands being bound, tied to a chair or bed and having a blindfold on so he can't see shit makes him horny as fuck. Like, he has wet dreams about it. He's laying on the bed, hands and ankles bound to the bed, and a blindfold on while your straddling his lap, doing whatever comes to your head to him... You've woken up in the night to pee and seen him, face flushed and a MASSIVE wet patch in his pants (underwear).

★

E=Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Like I said in the first one, I think Daryl is a virgin. He's got all his info about sex from Merle and porn. I mean, he done drugs before, he's jerked off before, but never has he had the opportunity to sink his cock into a woman's tight heat. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Couldn't find a woman he wanted to give his virginity to. So, he remained a virgin until you came around, then he was fucking you like he should've done when he was a horny teenager.

★

F=Favourite position (this one goes without saying)

I recon cowgirl is his go-to. Like, he's in a daze when your ontop of him, riding him to your heart's content, bouncing eagerly and chasing your high while he just lays/sits there, head spinning and barely being able to form a coherent sentence. But, if not cowgirl then either reverse cowgirl or missionary. Reverse cowgirl has him seeing stars within a record time of about a minute and missionary feels more romantic, like he can connect more with you on a physical and sexual level. For some strange reason, I think he doesn't like doggy style, I think he thinks it's disrespectful.

★

G=Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humourous? etc.)

Too far gone off the deep end of pleasure from the moment he's buried to the hilt inside you to fully comprehend what's going on around him. It scares you sometimes how oblivious he is to the goings on around him. Like, a tree could fall down in your backyard and he's pleasing for you to let him cum.

★

H=Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

Not groomed at all. In fact, I'd even go as far as to say he hasn't shaved since he tried it once when he was 19. He found a razor and tried it, but he didn't like the way it felt, so he never did it again, not that you mind. The carpet does in fact not match the drapes, and is a slightly lighter shade of brown compared to his hair.

★

I=Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He likes to be intimate, but again, the poor guy hasn't a clue what he's doing when it comes to sex, so he tries his best. Once, he found some scented candles and lit them in time for you to come home from whatever chores you were doing that day. Sex lasted a long long time that day.

★

J=Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he first met you, it was a rarity to see him out of his tent/house/apartment because he was constantly jacking off thinking about you. He'd never been as horny in his life than he was when you both fist met and began to know eachother. He was constantly inside, stroking his cock and allowing himself to feeling fantasize about you: what you would smell like, how you would say his name, his fast or slow you wanted to go with him, the works.

★

K=Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage. Has never done it but wants to do it. He's got a dangerous cream pie/breeding kink too (you can't have one without the other I will bury myself on this hill). He also got a fascination about you choking him. Just, being in your grasp trying to cum with limited oxygen sounds hot to him. But, poor baby's too shy to ask.

★

L=Location (favourite places to do the do)

In bed. It's safe, comfortable and your bathroom isn't too far away. I think he'd be down to do it in the woods, not just because of the primal aspect of being connected with nature or whatever, but like, the woods have been more of a home to Daryl Dixon in his whole life than a house ever was. But, anywhere you want to, he's down. Except in public, the risk of getting caught turns him on a bit but the sensible part of him speaks louder than his dick in this scenario, so he wouldn't be able to do it.

★

M=Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

You, the essence of you, your shampoo and conditioner. Just, standing completely still, arms crossed listening to or watching something and shifting your weight from one foot to a other has him rock hard and ready to go. Like, you could just be sat down and this man is all over you. He's just a horny guy.

★

N=No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Hitting you. Because he had a childhood where being physically punished was a regular thing, he's gone off physical violence completely. I don't even think this man can watch and action movie with too much violence in it, he'll get uncomfortable or have to look away. That's why whenever he has conflict with another human being, he'll keep physical violence to a minimum and opt for shooting them in the head instead. Also, hardcore degradation is an absolute no-no.

★

O=Oral (preference in giving or recieving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, eats you out like it's his favourite meal. He's rock solid hard from the moment he licks the first wet stripe up your dripping wet heat, grinding his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure building up in his cock. When he's on the recieving end, however, it's a while new story. He's whimpering, holding onto your hair and making a makeshift ponytail so he can bob your head up and down his length, causing you to choke. He doesn't mean to make you gag on his length, but when you suck him off as good as you do, he can't help it.

★

P=Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

To be honest, he starts off every time you have sex slow. He wants to be romantic and sensual, so he tries to take it slow. But, you moaning underneath/ontop of him and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin has his head in a daze and he can't help but let his body take control and pound into you hard and fast, too eager to make you and himself cum.

★

Q=Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd do it, but only if the it was safe and you had enough time. He fumbles with his belt when you have quickies. You undress like you've been practicing, only making him harder and fumble more with the belt that he'd somehow end up doing up tighter rather than ridding himself of it.

★

R=Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes and no. Yes, because he doesn't want it to be "just sex", he wants it to be fun, and a good time for both of you. But, no, because he hasn't tried it. It took him so long to finally get acclimatised to having sex, since it was so new to him, so why wouldn't it take him long to try something else that was equally as new to him.

★

S=Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ages. He lasts so long it feels inhuman. At first, he just has one round and leaves, but the more he gets used to it, the more time he's willing to invest in it, the more he's going to put into it and the longer he's gonna last. The regular "fuck" lasts about an hour, and that's only the regular. Sometimes, he comes home and can't do anything else until he's fully rid his mind and body of stress, which can sometimes take a while.

★

T=Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nope. Absolutely not. He doesn't seem the point of it. He enjoys sex enough, so why bring toys into the equation? Also, it's the apocalypse, where the hell is he going to find a sex toy? It's not just that, either. Sex was a whole new thing for him, it took him a while to get used to, and I don't think he'd want to go further than the basics.

★

U=Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Like I said before, I think he'd be too far gone in his visit to cloud 9. But, if he was topping, I think he would tease. Saying foul shit like "ma dirty girl, ya like that?" "ya wanna cum all over this cock, huh?" "wanna fuck your man so badly, don't cha?"

★

V=Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Now, unpopular opinion: Daryl is a moaner. Think about it, he's a quiet man, barely has anything to say during any conversation, no matter how captivating it might be, so it only makes sense that he comes home and has his lover bouncing eagerly on his cock, it just has the poor man in a trance, so he can't help but let out a little noise.

★

W=Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He wants to fuck while your wearing some of his clothing (specifically his angel winged jacket). I think that the sight of your smaller frame in an article of his clothing would make him feral.

★

X=X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Baby boy is THICCC wid a triple 'c'. A good length without being stupidly long, so I'd say a good 5-6 inches while soft and a good 6-7 I chest fully erect with a slight curve upwards, perfect for hitting that one spot inside you that has your vision blurred and specks of white adorning the outside.

★

Z=Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Well, it depends. If you've been going at it all night, he'd flop down beside you, and be dead ass asleep before he even had a chance to catch his breath. If it's the regular, he'd lay beside you, puffing while his head rests on your chest/your head rests on his chest. He falls asleep fast after the regular if your playing with his hair. Something about it relaxes him I to another dimension of sleep.

★

Tags:

@holdmytesseract @liliesdiary @vaniniweenie @dixons-sunshine @janiehellion @marvelcassey05 @ophelialaufey

[luvvictoria]

I've seen so many ghost x reader fics where the reader is younger than him, almost significantly so here an older!f!reader x our dear ghost <3

You're a few ranks above him, and he respects that—begrudgingly. Ghost isn’t the type to blindly follow authority, but you? You’ve earned it. You were in the field when he was still finding his footing, and that experience shows. He might not admit it, but there’s a weight in your voice that makes him listen.

The squad finds your dynamic hilarious. Price is used to being the eldest, but now there's you—someone who’s been through just as much, if not more, and yet just a few years younger than Price. Soap teases Ghost about it relentlessly.

“Damn, Lt., you’re really getting bossed around twice, huh?” “She’s my superior, Johnny.” “Aye, and she’s superior in general, yeah?”

You’ve seen more death than him—and you make sure he knows it. You carry your past like a badge of honor, not as a burden. It’s why, during a mission debrief, when someone asks how you managed to survive something that should’ve killed you, you just smirk and say:

“I’ve experienced death many times… but never my own.” And Ghost just stares. That’s his thing. The man who walks between life and death, the legend. But you? You say it like it’s a flex. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned. Probably both.

He hates how much you get under his skin. You know exactly what you’re doing. A little smirk here, a passing comment there. He’s not used to being the one thrown off-balance. It’s maddening. You call him “Simon” just to watch his reaction, because you know no one else does.

Fights between you two are rare but intense. Not in an aggressive way, but the tension? Palpable. Arguments usually happen when he thinks you’re taking unnecessary risks, and you remind him—

“I’ve been doing this longer than you, Ghost. Don’t forget that.” And that should shut him up. But instead, he grits his teeth and mutters, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He hates seeing you hurt. He knows you can handle yourself, knows you’ve seen worse, but it doesn’t stop the tight feeling in his chest when you get injured. The first time he sees you push through a wound like it’s nothing, he’s both impressed and furious.

“Christ, woman, you’re bleedin’.” “And?” “And I’d rather not watch you experience death again today, yeah?”

He falls for you without meaning to. It starts with admiration—your skill, your leadership, your confidence. Then it turns into something deeper. The way you can match his intensity, challenge him, command respect without asking for it. He never saw himself as the type to be into older women, but it’s not about the age—it’s about you.

When he does confess, it’s not smooth at all. It’s after a mission, maybe after you’ve both been through hell, and he just—

“Y’know, if you died, I’d be pissed.” “Good thing I won’t, then.” “…Noticed that.” And then, after a beat, he mutters, almost grudgingly: “Think I like you too much for my own good.” You just grin. “Took you long enough, Ghost.”

[berfgrimm]

CRΣΣKS | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

warning: angst, minor blood/injury, some fluff, mentions of addiction & depression, mentions of character death within the context of acting (idk how to explain it i’m so sorry)

note: i had this idea about being an actor and starring in squid game while I was listening to my sad playlist so this is what came of that. please enjoy, i love you all.

———————

Emotional scenes were never your favorite to film, especially in front of so many people. You hated having to cry or scream, because, even though you were acting, forcing your body to experience those emotions could exhaust you under normal circumstances. Knowing that this would be your final scene on Squid Game added to the emotion, sure, but there was something that complicated things even more. Seunghyun.

The two of you met for the first time during the casting announcement for the new season. You’d heard of him before, and though you didn’t know much about him, you found him to be very kind, and reserved. When you noticed that he tended to keep to himself, you made every effort to include him, and after a while, you saw him begin to come out of his shell.

Over the course of filming, you grew closer to Seunghyun as the majority of your scenes were together. You both worked hard to craft two characters that compliment one another, letting your blossoming real life friendship bleed through on screen.

You created a rich history that these two characters experienced together, stretching back to their childhood — two people that were driven apart by military service and arranged marriages that fell through. You invented school trips to museums, and vacations to experience live music. You created two characters who didn’t see a future that wasn’t plagued with addiction and depression, but still hustled every day to keep their head above water. You drew from your own experiences with love and heartbreak to create two characters that would never find peace with one another. You fell in love with Thanos and his muse.

After filming wrapped each day, you would often get dinner together and discuss your interests or workshop ideas for your characters. You ended up staying over at his place more often than not, falling asleep on the floor while watching a movie together. You spent more time with Seunghyun than you did by yourself, but it never once felt like it was too much.

When you explained your relationship to a friend, they were certain there was more going on between the two of you than just a platonic bond. The thought hadn’t occurred to you before; even though you knew Seunghyun was attractive, you never looked at him through that lense before. You assured your other friend that you didn’t see Seunghyun that way and you were sure he felt the same. You didn’t allow the thought to fester in your mind, too afraid of it ruining your friendship.

So, here you are. Preparing for your final scene before you wrap. You’ve created a character that you’re infinitely proud of and now you have to say goodbye. But it’s more than that. You know that you’ll be saying goodbye to Seunghyun as well. He still has a few scenes to film, and though you wish you could stay to watch, you have to catch a flight later to start production on your next project. So when you spot him standing quietly behind the crew, watching you set up, you find it hard to fight back the tears.

You’d never found yourself in a situation like this. You got along with many of your co-stars on other productions, and made friendships that would last a lifetime, but this was different. Seunghyun was different from all of them. You’d never spent all day and night with a co-star before. You’d never studied art and poetry with a co-star and discussed it at length until your mouth went dry. You’d never created a shared playlist with a co-star, so of course you never fell asleep with your head on their shoulder while you listened to it. You’d never felt this hollow when you envisioned your life after wrap.

You sit on the edge of the bunk, resting your elbows on your knees so you can clasp your hands together. You breathe in and out as slowly as you can, preparing yourself to film this next scene. When the tears sting at your eyes, you sit up straight, rolling your shoulders.

“Shut up,” you whisper to yourself. “Don’t cry yet. Just hang on.” Your actor mentality kicks; you don’t want to waste tears when you have to film a crying scene. “Pull it together,” you mutter under your breath. “Come on.”

It could have been any other scene, and maybe it wouldn’t have felt like this. You are forced to end your time on Squid Game with the demise of Thanos. In some ways, it’s fitting; sending off both of your characters at the same time. You’d already filmed your remaining scenes but you dreaded this one the most. You think that the production team sensed it, and arranged it like this intentionally; you hope they’ll forgive you if you don’t thank them for it.

Filming feels like pulling your heart out of your chest and holding it out in front of you for everyone to see. The sound of your cries echoing in the silent dormitory is surreal, tears streaming down your face with no signs of slowing. When you fall to your knees on the floor, lamenting the loss of your partner, you feel it — the lines start to blur between the characters and yourself, and your cries become real.

It’s the absence of Seunghyun that scares you. Having been so dependent on one another for months like this makes you fear the loss of him. Of course you’ll be able to call or text or even visit, but you fear it won’t be the same. Does your connection only exist in the confines of your characters? Was this born of longing in the art you created together? Fuck, your head feels like it’s going to collapse on itself.

You don’t realize that you’ve gone on autopilot, lost in your mind to your thoughts but still present in the scene. You also don’t notice that you’ve repeatedly slammed your fist against the floor as you deliver your lines, not until you feel someone wrap their arm around your back and grasp your hand to stop you. Ha-neul. He cradles you against his chest, something that you hadn’t rehearsed but something that fits the scene nonetheless.

When the take ends, you prepare to tell the director that you’d need a break to compose yourself before trying again, because somewhere in your mind you felt that it wasn’t what he needed. Maybe it was too much.

“It was perfect.”

The director was certain, along with your castmates who make sure to check on you as Ha-neul helps you to your feet. You feel like you are outside of your own body, watching from above as you are handed a rag to stop the bleeding on your hand. You try to find Seunghyun but you get lost in the crowd, being pulled in different directions as people praise your performance. You say your quick goodbyes, needing to get away from everyone as you become overwhelmed.

Your hands tremble on the walk to your trailer, your breath coming out in shudders as you try to regain your composure. When you step into the trailer and pull the door shut behind you, the silent tears start to fall.

“Do you need me to bandage your hand?”

Seunghyun is sitting on the sofa of your trailer, holding a first aid kit in his hands, a gentle smile on his face. You nod, stifling your tears and replacing them with what you hope reads like relief because you’re so glad it’s him.

Seunghyun stands, crossing to you and taking your uninjured hand to lead you back to the sofa. He makes sure you sit comfortably before he kneels on the ground in front of you, setting up the first aid kit so he can begin to clean your wound.

You can only watch him in silence at first, your eyes darting back and forth between his hands and his face, watching how he concentrates on his work. The tears start to return, quiet again but you struggle to hide the way you start to tremble.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit, looking down at your hands as he presses a large bandage to your skin. He sighs softly, his hands now still as he stares at the bandage.

“I know,” Seunghyun whispers after a moment of silence. “I don’t want you to leave either.” He shifts his grip on your hand so he now holds it with both of his, fingers gently stroking the top of your hand.

“I think everything is going to be different now,” you say, quietly. Seunghyun pulls in a deep breath and lets it out in a soft sigh, as if he’s trying to find the words. You feel a pang of worry in your chest that he doesn’t feel this same ache in his chest as you do at the thought of leaving.

“I’ll still be here,” he says, finally making eye contact with you. “I won’t keep you out.” You stare into his eyes, an ache in your jaw from struggling to hold back your sobs.

Seunghyun wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb before he takes hold of your chin with the gentlest grip. When his lips touch yours, you feel as though you drift away, floating above the trees out of your body. You’d never felt something so tender and meaningful. It’s over as soon as it begins, and your eyes stay closed, too afraid that you’d imagined it.

“When do you leave?” Seunghyun’s voice rumbles through your bones, settling heavy in your chest. You open your eyes slowly to meet his gaze again.

“Soon,” you reply, your voice sounding unlike your own: weak and forlorn.

“Okay,” he nods. “We can stay here until then.”

Seunghyun sits beside you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close to his chest. He offers you headphones to share, to enjoy your playlist together one more time. Relaxing into his arms, you toil over your emotions; what happens now? Is this the end or is there something else? You can’t bring yourself to even think of it yet, because right now, the world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of your trailer.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with The Guardian (2025)

The actor Jonathan Bailey sits at a large table in an otherwise empty room: charcoal cable knit sweater, loose pinstripe trousers, hair neatly coiffed. He is chewing gum, sipping coffee, talking through his recent career, and a certain serendipity that has rendered him reflective. At 36, he’s fresh from his turn as likely-lad love interest Fiyero in Hollywood’s blockbuster adaptation of Wicked; as a child, seeing the stage show was a milestone for him. “I remember thinking Fiyero was such a good part.” Later this year he will star in Jurassic World Rebirth alongside Mahershala Ali and Scarlett Johansson. “I saw the original Jurassic Park with my family, aged six, at the cinema,” he says. “It was the first time we all went together to something like that. It was seminal, but so rare for us.”

And this month, Bailey will star in Richard II at the Bridge Theatre, directed by Nicholas Hytner. Bailey is its protagonist. It is another example of full-circle career moment. In 2013, he appeared on stage in Hytner’s Othello. Same playwright, same director, same city – Bailey can’t help but consider all that’s changed in the intervening years. “Back then I was too young,” he says. “I came into the rehearsal process not mature or confident enough.”

Landing the role of Cassio, one of Othello’s lieutenants, had been so important to him then. “I didn’t go to drama school,” he says, “and there was a common belief that if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be able to do classical texts, or perform in the big theatres. There are all these stories we are born into that we have to unpick. For me, one of those was how limited I felt.”

Bailey remembers the day that changed. “It was late December,” he says, “and I was walking along London’s South Bank.” He was on his way to the National Theatre to meet Hytner for a callback. “I’d worked so hard and for so many reasons it felt…” He cuts himself off, then goes on, “Working at the National was beyond my wildest dreams.”

Bailey performed the two scenes he’d prepared. Then, Hytner unexpectedly suggested a third, which Bailey hadn’t rehearsed. “I’m not very good at just reading and going,” he says. “I can’t really come up with… Anyway, I went with instincts. He offered me the job in the room. It was a defining moment in my career.”

All sorts of opportunities followed for Bailey: American Psycho at the Almeida; Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s TV debut Crashing; King Lear opposite Ian McKellen; BBC satirical sitcom W1A. He was made very famous for playing a leading Lothario in Bridgerton, the Netflix behemoth. “Now being back with Nick,” he says. “I have a much fuller and more cherished understanding of him as a human as well as a director. Getting back into a room with him now, with all that’s happening, just felt obvious.” Hytner’s praise for Bailey is just as high: “He can speak Shakespeare like it’s his first language… The stage is his element.”

It’s Wednesday lunchtime, early January, in a central London studio space. We’re meeting halfway through five weeks of Richard II rehearsals in full swing a few floors below us. He’s sitting at a large table. In front of him is a bulky script covered in yellow highlights. “It’s only half,” he says, flicking through, playful panic in his voice. “Not only that, I’ve thinned it, and taken out the scenes I’m not in, which feels very Richard II.”

It’s Bailey’s first stage production since 2022. Through Bridgerton, he has been exposed to a global audience. But theatre is where it all began. “So returning to the stage, now, just felt so right. And I don’t think I’ve changed at all, even if certain things around me have.” It has taken some adjustment, this new level of “Black Mirror-esque” notoriety that he’s experiencing. It’s why he likes the intimacy of these rehearsals, after months spent on sprawling film sets. And he’s enjoying being based in London for an extended period, close to friends and family.

Bailey is charming, handsome and self-effacing as we talk, but doesn’t seem entirely at ease. That gum chewing is fervent now; he’s fiddling with what’s in front of him. He habitually self-edits as he speaks. There’s a vagueness that, at times, feels purposeful. At regular intervals, he simply stops mid-sentence.

Take the play itself. “It’s such an incredible, searing interrogation of power, government and monarchy…” he says. “You have someone with the cast-iron right to rule, who is absolutely unfit to lead, emotionally underdeveloped… And Shakespeare wrote to be played, not published. There are so many references and nuances to what an Elizabethan audience would have understood… It’s about translating it from that, and delivering it to a modern audience, so the effect hopefully has the same vivid fervency and front-footedness especially politically and especially in this instance with monarchy and leadership.”

It sounds interesting. So where is he turning to for inspiration for his tyrannical overlord? I ask. Trump? King Charles? The Saudis?

“That’s for the viewer to see. I have very clear ideas and I hope the audience will, too…”

He won’t be drawn. I’m curious as to why. He shakes his head.

“You’ll have to come and see it.”

Later, over email, Hytner is more forthright: “The play wonders what happens when an entirely legitimate leader is set on ruining the country he leads. No good options. Submit or resist – either way you end up with chaos.”

Ahead of Wicked’s late-November release, there was a preview screening in Sydney. “It was part of this massive press tour, but for me it only lasted two weeks. The girls are incredible,” Bailey says of his co-stars Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, plugging the project for months on end. “And they’re still at it, still shining.”

In Oz, Bailey went along with one of his sisters and her two daughters in tow. It was the first time he’d sat back and watched the film properly. “I was so overwhelmed,” he says. “Even now, it makes me quite emotional. If there was the purest form of joy I had as a kid, it was singing and dancing.”

His family was based between Reading and Oxford. Bailey has three older sisters. As a child, he’d be dropped at basketball club at the local village hall. “From outside, I could see my sister’s ballet lessons through the window. I wanted to be in there with them. I’d go and wait at the back of their class in my Velcro trainers.” He enrolled. “I was obsessed and loved it. Dancing and singing felt like a vocation.”

Music also filled the family home. By the time Bailey was 10, his sisters would go out clubbing. “The next morning, they’d come back, and I’d get them, hungover, to do impressions of their different friends dancing.” It was a family affair. “We loved 90s club classics. Me, Mum, Dad and my sisters went through a phase of going into the new room – we had an extension, then called it that for 20 years – and we’d put on vinyls and dance, all of us.”

One day, he stopped. “I don’t know what happened,” he says, “for whatever reason, I didn’t confidently carry through the dancing. I got self-conscious in my teens that it was signalling something else. It just didn’t feel… I probably just knew it was better to be playing rugby than dancing. I became really self-conscious. There weren’t other dudes dancing.” One teacher called Bailey a “fairy” in front of his entire class. “In your teenage years it’s so raw. You lose your skin. And there are certain things in life,” he says, “that allow people to think they know something about you, and those assumptions mean you stop doing something you love. You curb or you police yourself. You don’t make the joke, or say the quip. You don’t stand up and advocate for yourself or your friends. And you start to slowly crumple. That’s purely on the basis of this idea of signalling. These stereotypes.”

One becomes fearful, he continues, of the immense hurt that others can cause. “Even more pain than binding yourself up slowly and creating a space of safety and refuge in your own mind or heart. That’s where it gets dangerous and people stop doing the things they’re supposed to. And how brilliant that we…” He pauses, surprised, concerned even – it seems – by how much he’s sharing. “It’s a scary time, isn’t it. On the one hand, I do think there’s such a… People are so much more open-minded about what defines masculinity now. What defines heterosexuality. What defines gender. But on the other hand, there’s a swing, obviously, towards… Anyway, that one will have to be a dot-dot-dot for you.”

It’s not that Bailey dropped performing as a child, only that things took off in a different direction. Back in ballet class, there’d been a callout from the Royal Shakespeare Company. “They needed young boys to play Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol.” He was seven years old. “My parents weren’t sure. It was so outside their world.” His mum worked in the NHS. “And Dad was a DJ, basically, in Piccadilly Circus at [70s nightclub] Snoopys.” But a child actor? “It’s a big ask, from a kid. I was really protected by them, but they gave me this opportunity.” He was cast, and continued to be through school. “It was extraordinary, really. I didn’t miss any lessons. By 13, I’d done three productions for the RSC, and a stint in the West End. All before I hit puberty.” Then came his first Shakespeare production: Prince Arthur in King John at the Barbican with the RSC. “I was 12 or 13, and that set me on another course. ‘Fuck, OK, you can also do this.’” The memories are visceral, even now: “The sickly, sweet smell of fake blood. Dry ice. All those senses. I was taken. That’s maybe where my creative juices were channelled more, over singing and dancing.”

He has worked solidly since his teenage years. Bridgerton, though, catapulted him to stardom. Afterwards, says Bailey, “I was contending with how things would change in my life.” The press introduction, a growing, global fandom, interest in his personal life and sexuality… “On one hand,” he says, “the success of Bridgerton, being able to play that role, and for who I am not to affect people’s perceptions; the love story between a man and a woman.” He pauses, again. Oh, actually.” Some nervous laughter. “It’s just, I’m cautious. I’m who I am and always will be. It’s an extraordinary thing to see and hear the word ‘gay’ next to your name all the time. It’s something I’m incredibly proud of, but it’s also not something anyone else would be defined by. So to go straight from Bridgerton, where inevitably that was talked about, to do a series like Fellow Travellers? It came along like some sort of beacon.”

Fellow Travellers, a Showtime series in which Bailey and Matt Bomer star, follows the romance between two American politicos, from the 1950s to 1980s. Production started as series one of Bridgerton started streaming. Among a predominantly queer central cast, cocooned on set, Bailey’s sexuality was entirely un-noteworthy. “All with our own experiences,” he says, “coming together. And learning about the history… The men who endured and experienced such horrendous and extraordinary things.”

Simultaneously, he was inundated with requests from charities following Bridgerton’s success. “I felt frozen by wanting to help.” The sheer scale of what was being asked and what he might do with his platform, connections and cash felt overwhelming. So, he founded the Shameless Fund. “Raising cash and erasing shame to support the global LGBTQ+ community. We’re giving grants this year. I’m so proud of it. It was all in theory. It seems so obvious and clear. We’ve raised a lot of money for initiatives that need cash and a platform. “And the thing is,” he says, “I can’t be a mouthpiece. I’m an actor.” As is clear through our conversation so far, he’s impassioned and engaged, but being outspoken doesn’t always feel comfortable. It must be challenging, I say. So many eyes and ears pointed in his direction. “The noise is turned up,” he says. “And when it’s about your family, or your identity… And nobody is going to question that headline, in a different outlet with their own agenda. That’s what’s left and it isn’t true. That’s why I’m really protective. I’ve seen something so specific about my identity be twisted. Ultimately you want peace within yourself, because the world is wild enough as it is. It’s too important now, with rights being stripped away. What’s so obviously looming…” Back to Wicked, I suggest.

“OK,” he says, relieved, ��so I was doing Cock [his West End stint in Mike Bartlett’s comedy about sexual identity] and I knew a film of Wicked was happening.” In the dressing room before curtain up one night, Bailey recorded a self-tape. “As I was singing, doing a karaoke version of [Fiyero’s big number] Dancing Through Life, I got called to stage on the Tannoy. Fuck it, I just sent it.” There were some positive noises. “Then the dates didn’t look to be working out. Wicked said they couldn’t be sure about what they wanted…” Bailey made other plans. Then, out the blue, dates shifted: the part was his. The months that followed were hectic: during one stretch, while juggling Fellow Travellers, Bridgerton and Wicked, he was filming for 34 days straight.

“I’d come from set, sleep on a flight, go straight to a Bridgerton ball, then the next day be dancing with Ari and Cynthia. Everyone else for Wicked had three months of rehearsal. I had three days.” There’s a knock at the door: Bailey is being summoned back down to rehearsals. “The conclusion to that,” he says, “is Wicked happened and I’m so proud. Before I knew it I was Dancing Through Life…” Suffice to say, he’s thrilled to be.

Richard II is at the Bridge Theatre until 10 May, bridgetheatre.co.uk

Source

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. slice-of-life. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

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Alphabet Soup - S

S is for the soft in-betweens. The silly, sweet, soppy moments Wally didn't expect to yearn for. Yet, here he is, coveting them like silver from the stars, stockpiling them in his heart beside childhood memories and first loves. Or, who he assumes are first loves, but the more time he spends with you, the less he's sure he ever experienced that.

Shit.

What he does know is that Janet is at Claire's lake house with the rest of the squad, a weekend away—no boys allowed, except Gabe because he makes the best blended margaritas—and Wally has the house to himself. His parents are in Michigan visiting Aunt Tal and your dad is busy with some lame staff retreat leaving you and Wally with nothing else to do but each other.

It's sybaritic, sexy, sensual, fucking supreme. First, he lures you into the house with the promise of snacks and a movie. Lowkey, innocent. He knows you know it's a scheme. Can see it in the way you stretch to expose a strip of belly and hipbone, the way you take your sweater off because it's, "too hot in here, Wally." Sure it is. And the seducer becomes the seducee because the next thing he knows you're on him, a strip-tease, a lap dance that leaves him panting, kissing him with intention. And, hell yeah, he likes this side of you. Bold. Bratty. Taking what you want when he doesn't give it to you at your pace.

He fingers you on the couch, eats you out on the coffee table, fucks your mouth at the island while the pizza burns in the oven and the smoke alarm shrieks. He can't get enough. Will never get enough. Shower. Bed. The jacuzzi tub in his parents' master suite after splitting a bottle of something worth more than his life. "God, baby, you need my cock so bad, don't you?"

It's after you and he break his fucking bed during Round Double Digits that Wally feels the shift.

You're lightheaded, wobbly-limbed and sticky from lube and come and salted-caramel drizzle, reaching for whatever article of clothing is nearest—Wally's shirt that falls to your thighs—and you say with uncertainty, "I need something to eat, if that's okay?" Like Wally wouldn't take care of you unless it's to make your body sing for him.

He's on his feet in seconds, boxers on, scooping you into his arms as you giggle and squeal in delight. He carries you toddler-style down the stairs to the kitchen, places you on the counter, and searches the fridge for something to throw together. You joke as he cooks, talking about this and that, and Wally laughs, responds, engages. You stimulate his brain, challenge him, tease him, and then he feels it. A tiny thing at first, warm, subtle, but it swells into holy shit, she's perfect so fast it makes his head spin.

You're witty and smart and confident. Wally never let himself notice that before, and now he can't un-notice it. He wants to learn more, know more, gobble up every piece of you he can until he's satisfied.

You eat his food, compliment him, snuggle into his side for the movie he puts on to fall asleep to, his hand stroking your hair, back, side as his eyes droop. He doesn't mean to do it, is hardly aware of himself, but he nuzzles into your hair and kisses your forehead. Softhearted and tender. Like a boyfriend.

Half-asleep, you sigh contentedly and burrow closer, but now Wally's wide awake. Staring at the ceiling, freaking the fuck out because this wasn't supposed to turn into something more than an easygoing, no-strings way to blow off steam.

Double shit.

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MASTERLIST

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