#which was not about fanfic and more about like professional writing

[omsocks]

Fanfiction is for fun

​You’re not making it to make money, you’re making it for you

No one can tell you you’re writing fanfic wrong

If you want to write wildly inaccurate fanfic, do it

If someone has a problem with it, they don’t have to read, they can find something else to read, or even better, write what they want to read instead of bothering others about it

If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, then they just want to start arguments and you should ignore them

Where’s that post that’s like “somewhere along the way ‘fanfiction can be as good as published writing’ became ‘fanfiction should be as good as published writing’ and fandom as a whole has suffered since”? Because that’s essentially what I’m trying to say

[bluzebub19]

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

[caspercryptid]

Hello everyone I am so unbelievably pissed about the NaNoWriMo situation that i'm going to take my massive stack of writing and craft books and my English degree and channel all my rage into making an email newsletter to send craft-oriented writing prompts and tips during the month of November. Say No to NaNoWriMo, but yes to WriMo. You get it.

I'm not going to make this have the same goals as Nanowrimo-- I'm not reskinning it but less ableist, I just really think having a whole month where people focused on their work is pretty cool and I want to keep up that spirit. This is going to be informal and run by Just Me, though I'll make a discord server if it's clear there's interest. Direct questions to @nowrimomo , which I literally just made and so will look like a skeleton currently.

I'm going to include prompts from various professional sources with options for Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Fanfic, so everybody can get in on this. It doesn't matter what you write, but we should all Write More.

[illbegottenfaith]

in sweetness (inspired by robin by t. swift)

visiting theo's childhood home grants you a deeper understanding of his inner workings (theo nott x reader)

a/n - I haven't genuinely loved a piece of writing like I do this one in a loooong time, I'm aware of how it strays away from the conventional flow/storyline of fanfic but I feel like that's what makes this so special! this is kind of the backstory of Theo I have in my head for pretty much any fic I write, regardless of the tropes/au's involved.

tropes/warnings - love?? hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, friends to lovers

word count - 2.7k

In their third year, Theodore Nott broke the nose of his then-teammate Mattheo Riddle. The fight had broken out on the Quidditch pitch after a practice; over what, no one could remember, least of all the boys themselves. Mattheo had said something undoubtedly incendiary in that arrogant, goading voice of his, and Theo had lunged at him, knocking the pair down. The brawl had come to a surprisingly quick end once he had decked the stockier boy in the face.

Years on, most people put it down to a culmination of red-hot emotions and pubescent testosterone. But it was more than that. Even then, you found the incident more telling than most others. Friend or foe, Theodore Nott never hesitated to exact justice by his own means, as he saw fit.

Perhaps it was his only means of control in a world that had treated him unforgivingly all his life.

You put down the photo of a bloody-nosed Mattheo sitting next to a busted-lipped Theo in the Hospital Wing, a photo taken to commemorate, as Blaise Zabini cheerfully put it, 'Baby's first fistfight.' You are standing in Theo's bedroom in his childhood home while waiting for him to return. You wanted to surprise him, but as his aunt had told you, he had popped out to drop by some old friends in the area. Still, she said that he would be returning soon and that you were welcome to wait in his room.

Looking around at every little photo, artifact, and piece of evidence of the years gone by feels like you are watching him grow up in front of your very eyes. And just like his life, something about the room feels disjointed and unharmonious. Other than a few obligatory photos or trinkets, most of the room appears sparsely decorated. The air feels heavy, as if it carries an unbearable silence even when he is home for the holidays.

There are posters of some vaguely familiar professional Quidditch players decorating one wall. Looking at the years printed in the corner, you glean that they must have been from before you met Theo. Although a layer of dust now sits on the untouched but otherwise pristine posters, it's clear that they were once highly beloved by their owner.

You see something similar in the rest of the room - different phases of his life cluttered different corners of his room. It was as though the room itself never changed; rather, he learned to grow in whatever space was left. You tilted your head up. There, hanging from the ceiling above his bed, appears to be a slightly misshapen, dusty baby mobile made of flimsy, plasticky dragonflies. It looks handmade. It sticks out like a sore thumb in what is otherwise a tidy room.

You wander over to the window on the other side of the room. You pick up another picture frame, this one containing a photograph of a toddler Theodore at the very windowsill you were standing in front of, taken from the garden just outside his window.

Back then, with a face that small, his dark curls seemed to overwhelm his tiny stature. He was laughing with a twinkle in his eye which he seemed to have lost over the years, unabashed with a face overflowing with love for whoever was behind the camera. You peer through the crooked window and imagine him scrambling up, not yet three feet tall, towards the photo-taker who humoured his nonsensical babbling with the forgiving kind of maternal patience. What had she looked like? Did she have his hair? His nose? His dry wit? His temper? His unexpected, if endearing, touchy side? It was a fragmented sort of picture in your head, but it was better than nothing.

You look back at the photo and your heart twinges with regret. Theo didn't talk about it much, but you knew he had lost her when he was very young - far too young. This had to be one of the last few moments when he was blissfully unaware of the horrors that waited for him in the real world. And even after that, how could he have anticipated just how much worse things could get? You bite your lip. No, you decide, he had no idea.

After the Quidditch pitch incident, unlike his newest best mate, Theo's penchant for violence was short-lived. Yet his ruthless efficiency remained almost cutthroat - whatever Theo wanted, he got, everyone else be damned. In fact, he hadn't really understood what it felt like to care for someone else until he met you.

With your round, trusting eyes and irrationally lovable affectations, you had somehow wormed your way into his otherwise cold, distant heart, and there you stayed. Your friends hadn't held back on the teasing, especially in the early days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when an electric kind of thrill would run through you as he'd duck his head oh so slightly to better hear whatever spiel you had chosen to grace him with between lessons that day over the din of the moving staircases and their unfortunate victims. The electric thrill of having a friend, of course.

But that didn't stop you from noticing how his past seemed to hold him back, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. With his father's less-than-exemplary background, you saw him struggle to not follow him down that same path. After all, how did one break free of the only world they've ever known? Sometimes you could feel his frustration, as if he felt stuck or stagnant. While everyone else busied themselves with orchestrating life plans as graduation grew nearer, Theo seemed woefully encumbered by the one thing he could never rid himself of, shackled by the chains of his lineage.

You had picked up on this the time he had come down with a bout of the flu. "Maybe I should take your temperature again," you had said, anxiously looking at his wan face as his skin burned the back of your hand.

"I'm fine, really," he had repeated, as he dragged your hand down to his chest, eyes lidded. "I'll sleep it off."

You had pressed your lips into a thin line, highly conflicted over how much you wanted to argue with a clearly sick patient. Your other hand had drifted to his scalp as you had distractedly started raking your fingers through his hair. Theo's lips had parted as he sighed in relief, melting further into his pillow.

"Just...just stay. For a while." His eyes had been fully closed by then. "I get the worst dreams when I'm sick."

You had run your thumb along your clasped hands. "What do you dream about?"

Theo had paused. "Terrible things," he had said after a moment, in a pleasant, light voice, as if you were merely discussing the weather. "Terrible things that I can't change."

He had no idea.

The least you could do was let him feel free when he was with you. You knew just what to do to tug a smile onto his face, no matter how reluctant, on the greyest of days. It helped that it didn't take much for you to amuse him. It wasn't always easy, keeping spirits high enough for the both of you, but you managed. Anything to make his life a little brighter, a little sweeter.

And so the time he spent with you only served to further mellow him out, soften his sharp, unrelenting edges. His bloodlust moulded itself into something kinder, something that didn't itch for retribution for every wrong-doing or misdeed. A compassion that presented itself in the oddest of ways - like the time you had found Theo entertaining one of the toddlers from the annual gift donation drive in the Slytherin common room over the holidays. Your eyes had nearly fallen out of your head when you had seen him sitting cross-legged on the floor, highly engrossed with a bunch of plastic dinosaurs.

You had shot Mattheo a mystified look as you walked by, and he had shrugged from his place on one of the armchairs. But you had noticed how the crossword he had allegedly been pouring over had gone slack in his hand. Clearly, he had been just as intrigued as you were.

"I thought you never liked playing with toys," you had started, fixing a lock of hair falling into Theo's eyes as he looked up at you. He had looked so earnest as he put the toys down that you had had to fight the urge to laugh - not at him, but at how disconcertingly happy he looked. Why, Theo would have mocked anyone who looked half as delighted any other day of the week.

You had let your thumb run along his cheekbone. Perhaps it was an unintentional reclamation of the childhood he had been robbed of.

"I didn't. But maybe I just needed more time." He had glanced back at the child crudely now scribbling in his sketchbook and winced. "Erm, fourteen years more time."

You had nodded, trying to be more discreet about your staring at the smear of dirt you had just noticed on the side of his face. He had no idea. Over Theo's shoulder, you had frowned questioningly at Mattheo. Sand pit, he had mouthed back at you.

"You always were slow on the uptake," you had murmured. Something must have shown in yours or Mattheo's expression because he had started glancing between the two of you, gingerly touching his face.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"No," the both of you chorused.

"I don't see anything on your face. Mattheo, do you see anything on Theo's face?"

"Not a speck," Mattheo had agreed, nonchalantly returning to his crossword. You had tapped Theo's face, making him flinch.

"You need to stop being so obsessed with your looks. Vanity doesn't become you."

And before he could catch on - as he was dangerously close to, if that suspicious frown of his was any indication - you excused yourself to put your coat away. Neither of you had wanted to snap Theo out of whatever weird trance he was in. A moment like that deserved to be preserved.

Standing in Theo's room, you suddenly felt claustrophobic, overwhelmed by memories you hadn't given a second thought in years. There was so much tragedy written in every crack in the wall. How did Theo bear it? Did he simply not see it?

You walked out of the room and explained to Theo's aunt that you were just heading out for a bit of fresh air. If she noticed how upset you looked, she didn't comment on it. Once you left, you started walking very quickly very blindly, anything to put as much distance between yourself and that house of horrors.

Eventually, you walked until there was nowhere else to walk, ending up at an old, slightly grimy playground. You sat on one of the swings, replaying those scenes you couldn't seem to move on from. The pallor on Theo's face as he shivered from that fever. The blood-soaked rag he had held to his mouth to stem the flow of blood. The grit that had decorated the side of his beautiful face. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the leaves crunching under the footsteps that approached you.

"Oh, my days," a familiar voice crowed from behind you, "is that Y/N L/N I see before me?"

You froze. He must have spotted you on his way back. You couldn't bring yourself to turn around to face him just yet.

"You're in my spot, you know," Theo continued smoothly. "That's the best spot on the swing set right there."

Reluctantly, you glanced behind to see Theo standing behind you, wearing a thick denim jacket, his teasing expression slightly shadowed by his stupid hair that was always falling into his stupid face, and all you can think is, he has no idea.

As soon as you turned, his face softened into something more concerned.

"Are you...crying?"

You brushed a hand against your cheek and realised he was right. You sniffed, turning away from him. Theo moved to kneel in front of you almost immediately, gently clasping your elbows when you refused to meet his gaze.

"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Who hurt you?"

You shook your head. "No one hurt me."

Theo stared at you unrelentingly. There it was, the bloodlust. "What happened, cara mia?"

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. "I was waiting for you at your house but I wanted a bit of fresh air."

"Was it my aunt? Did she say something? Honestly, the things she says about my hair -"

You laughed through your tears abruptly, and you could see Theo relax fractionally at your smile. You bit your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Anything to stop the crying.

"No," you were saying, "your aunt was very sweet. She let me wait in your room."

"Okay."

"And there were -"

"- magazines?"

You frowned at Theo, who looked unreasonably panicked. "You have magazines in your room?"

He hesitated for a moment, before delicately clearing his throat. "No, of course not. So what did you see?"

"Pictures. From years ago."

"Oh, yeah. What about them?"

You stared back at him, fidgeting restlessly. How could you explain why you were suddenly so upset when you didn't fully understand it yourself? The pictures in his room were nothing revelatory - in fact, wasn't that why it was so heartbreaking? You knew what his life had been like, and you knew how it had shaped him. But maybe something about seeing unflinching proof of it firsthand made it all the more unbearable.

And then you started bawling again.

"I just -" you choked out, "you had such an awful time as a kid- no mother, a good-as-dead father -"

Theo had this strange look on his face like he was desperately trying not to laugh.

"Y/N," he was saying gently, "they're just pictures. And all that was such a long time ago. I'm fine." He grinned. "Really."

You glared at him. You had half a mind to shove him away.

"Well, I'm not fine. How do you expect me to turn a blind eye to your hellish childhood? When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that I care for you and I love you and it hurts to think about all those years you spent unloved?"

That sobered the both of you fairly quickly. After all that, Theo had the audacity to blink at you like some half-wit goldfish.

"...what?"

You pressed on impatiently. "You have to understand," you muttered through gritted teeth, "I cannot help but wish you didn't have to deal with - with any of this. Year after year, I see you trying so hard, trying your best even with all the odds stacked against y- and you're amused. Honestly, you're impossible. I'm baring my heart, sobbing my fucking lungs out, and you look like you want to laugh."

"It's just..." Theo shook his head as he trailed off, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "I haven't thought about any of that in a while."

His eyes crinkled, and suddenly the runt of a boy from the picture and the long-legged nineteen-year-old in front of you were one and the same.

"I don't feel unloved." He dragged his thumb down the vein in the crook of your elbow, all while looking at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. "Not anymore."

Your hand crept up until they were holding his face. He stiffened slightly, not like he wanted to pull away, but like he didn't know what to expect. You leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours, feeling his warm breath tickle your face. He wasn't pushing you away. If anything, his grip on your elbow turned more vice-like as his eyes fluttered close.

Maybe you misread his signals. Maybe he'd hate you for this afterwards. But you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment.

A sweet memory to balance out all the bitter ones his home held.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together��cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

Check my other stuff out too? | M A S T E R L I S T

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HMU WITH AN ASK IF U WANNA GET TAGGED

Permanent taglist!!! ( i don't even know if these ppl r still on here man) @gracielou0518 / @memory-of-a-goldfish / @thatbitchsaidhi / @xxashy999xx / @queenlouisa2001 / @shliic / @speggehi / @blackdaisybitch / @tuliptx / @m-a-t-91 / @milkshakeslou-blog / @fireboltrose7559 / @justmesadgirl / @makloveswritingofficial-blog / @cocacola-cocaine / @impalatobakerstreet / @laochbaineann / @justakpopfan4 / @kiramotherofsnails / @yknott81 / @heartssick / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @oldwhalien / @padackles2010 / @lolabean1998 / @ayee-style

[insertdisc5]

I finished ISAT yesterday and I can't get it out of my head. I will spread it to as many friends as possible. Thank you so much for making it. How else can we support In Stars and Time after buying the game?

that is a lovely question to ask!!! um um um this applies to all indie games and all cool stuff you like btw <3

✨✨✨ How To Support Something Cool After Having Bought The Something Cool ✨✨✨

-if you bought the game on steam, leave a review on steam! Reviews tell the Steam Algorithm(tm) that the game is worthwhile and cool, and so the algorithm will be more likely to show off the game!!!

-if you bought it elsewhere uuuuh leave a review on metacritic i guess????

-word of mouth!!! tell your friends!

here's a tangent.

Word Of Mouth For Dummies (written by me, a professional Word Of Mouther) ok so if you wanna make your friends play the game. here is my advice. or at least thats how i do it. i made all my friends play disco elysium and. ive even made one. play. umineko (everyone gasps in amazement) 1. dont be too insistent about it. so, GO CRAZY AAAH GO STUPID AAAH only ONCE. and explain the game in thirty pages there if you want. ONCE. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE. 2. if you know them well and what they like, personalize the paragraph. you like timeloops? thats for you. you like old ladies? thats for you? you keep beating me at rock paper scissors? Do I Have The Game For You. 3. now that you've gone crazy aah stupid aah Once, you have successfully PLANTED THE SEED. like in inception. no need to go crazy stupid again for a while. i know it's hard. but you don't wanna go crazy stupid too much. control yourself. for the Thing. 4. from that point on though, when the game is on sale, just go "hey btw the cool game i told you about is on sale! smiles smiles smiles". 5. every six months go "i was just thinking about a cool game again." "what cool game?" "IN STARS AND TIME" and you can go crazy aaah go stupid aah again. 6. after Some Time (from 2 weeks to 5 years) they will play the game. yes i said 5 years. word of mouthing is a WAITING GAME. little sprouts grow into trees. 7. they play the game 8. ???? 9. profit <3

-word of mouth, 2!!!! SOCIAL MEDIA!!!! tweet about the game! reblog other people's posts! make fanart! make fanfic! write a long essay about which parts made you cry! cosplay as the characters! make a video essay! just yell!!!!! you know how you only got into That One Thing because someone made a post about it? you could be The Post.

-(this one is if you want more merch specifically) buy the merch if it's available! the only reason we have a second Loop wave with the Yetee is because the first wave sold so well ;w;

-ummm that's it really????? that's already a bunch!!! but yeah!!!!!!!!!! ty!!!!!!!!!!

[solxamber]

Hello! I saw that you said it was fine to request still, so if it's alright I'll give you my thoughts/promt if it's fine by you.

Also wanted to say i love you're fanfics! Super entertaining and well written so i was wondering if you could write one that's Vil x mermaid! Reader (romantic) the prompt is-

Vil has been slowly falling in love with the reader; not just by her beauty but her personality the two have these little meet ups where she sings/the two talk endlessly and just enjoy eachothers company, but what I'm getting with this,is that Vil would take time to process his feelings but eventually he gets there and confesses. Maybe it could be a friends x lovers?

whatever you want to do with this idea is cool beans, I just really want to see what you come up with!! Alright,that's all much love ♡♡

Vil Schoenheit x Mermaid! Reader

the idea is so big brained!!! I hope you like it <3

Vil has always appreciated beauty. He lives and breathes it—the art of refinement, the craft of elegance. But lately, beauty has taken on a new form for him, and it looks suspiciously like you. He can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but he knows it’s tied to those secret meetups you two share by the shoreline.

You’re a mermaid, and you make a point to remind him of that every time he mentions something about the "unbearable" human world. You always roll your eyes dramatically, your tail shimmering in the moonlight as you laugh at his over-the-top complaints about fashion disasters, inferior skincare routines, or the latest scandal in the entertainment industry.

"You humans are so fragile," you often tease, resting your chin on your hand as you float lazily in the water. "Honestly, Vil, it’s a wonder you haven’t all crumbled under the weight of your own drama."

He gives you a sharp look every time, but there’s always a trace of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And yet, here you are, meeting up with one of these fragile humans every week."

"I didn’t say you weren’t entertaining," you retort with a sly grin. "It’s like watching a soap opera, except with more skincare tips."

Vil chuckles, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, which somehow manages to stay flawless even in the salty sea breeze. "You’d be lost without my advice. I’ve seen your seaweed face masks."

You pretend to gasp, putting a hand to your chest. "Seaweed is a perfectly valid skincare ingredient! In fact, it’s far superior to that toxic concoction you call moisturizer."

"Seaweed smells like the bottom of the ocean."

"And you don’t?"

That’s how it always goes—banter, teasing, comfortable silences filled with the soft crashing of waves, and eventually, music. You sing sometimes, when the mood strikes you. It’s never anything planned; it just happens. Vil always listens, captivated, because your voice is something he can't quite describe. It's raw, but pure, untouched by the expectations of the stage or the pressures of fame.

Sometimes he sings back, though he pretends he’s only doing it because you insist. "Come on, Vil. Just a few bars. You know you want to."

"I am a professional," he says, crossing his arms. "I don’t perform on a whim."

But you know how to coax him, and soon enough, he’s harmonizing with your lilting melody, his smooth, controlled voice intertwining with yours in a way that makes the night feel magical.

It’s been months of these little meetings, and Vil has never been quite sure what to make of you. You’re beautiful, of course—stunning, really—but that’s not what has him coming back to the shore every week.

It’s the way you make him feel completely at ease, the way you challenge him without being mean-spirited, the way you listen to him vent about things you couldn’t care less about yet still offer thoughtful responses.

And then there’s that laugh of yours—sharp, like the crack of a wave against the rocks, but warm enough to make him feel lighter every time he hears it.

He’s always valued control—over his image, his career, his emotions—but with you, he’s found himself slipping. He realizes, with some discomfort, that he’s been looking forward to these meetings a little too much. It’s not just the singing or the banter anymore. It’s... you.

That thought bothers him, because Vil Schoenheit does not get "distracted." He doesn’t fall for anyone. At least, not like this.

But here he is, walking down to the beach again, heart beating faster than usual as he anticipates seeing you. Tonight, though, something feels different. Maybe it’s the way the moon is hanging lower than usual, casting everything in a silvery glow, or maybe it’s the fact that Vil can’t deny his feelings anymore.

You’re already waiting for him when he arrives, sitting on a rock with your tail swishing lazily in the water. "Late again, Mr. Superstar?" you call out teasingly.

"I’m fashionably late, thank you," Vil replies, though there’s a softness in his voice. He takes a seat on the sand, smoothing out his coat with practiced precision before looking at you.

"You’re slipping," you say, eyeing him critically. "Usually, you’d have a comeback ready. What’s the matter? One of your beauty products finally backfired?"

Vil snorts softly, shaking his head. "No, though if it did, you’d be the first to hear about it." He looks out at the horizon, his expression thoughtful. "I’ve just been... thinking."

"Uh-oh," you say, folding your arms over your chest. "That sounds dangerous. What about?"

He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Vil has always been calculated, measured in everything he does. Confessing his feelings, though? That’s not something he’s prepared for. He glances at you, and suddenly, the words start spilling out before he can stop them.

"You know, for someone who claims not to care about humans, you certainly seem to enjoy spending time with me."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the shift in tone. "Are you fishing for compliments, Vil? Because I don’t need to stroke your ego any more than it already is."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, it’s just... You’re always teasing me about humans, about my world, but you keep coming back. Why?"

You tilt your head, considering his question for a moment before replying. "Because you’re interesting, Vil. You’re not like the others I’ve met. Most humans get caught up in themselves, but you... you’ve got a spark. You’re genuine, even when you’re being all high-and-mighty. And, well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of options for good conversation under the sea."

Vil’s heart skips a beat at your words, and he finds himself smiling despite the nerves building up inside him. "I see. So I’m just your entertainment, then?"

"Oh, definitely," you say, grinning. "But you’re also... more than that."

Vil blinks, his breath catching slightly. "More?"

You nod, your expression softening. "You’re someone I look forward to seeing. I like being around you, Vil. You make me feel... seen. And I’m not just talking about my looks. It’s like you actually care about me as a person, not just a pretty face."

He swallows, his chest tightening as he listens to your words. This is it. He can’t hold it in any longer. "I do care," he says quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "More than you know."

You look at him, your teasing expression fading as you sense the weight behind his words. "Vil...?"

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I think... I think I’m falling for you."

There. He said it. And now his heart is racing, his palms are sweating, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Vil Schoenheit is unsure of himself. He braces for your reaction, half expecting you to laugh it off or tease him like you always do.

But you don’t. Instead, you blink at him, your mouth opening and closing as you process his confession. "You... what?"

Vil clears his throat, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I’m in love with you," he repeats, more confidently this time. "I’ve been falling for you for a while now, and I didn’t want to admit it, but... I can’t keep it to myself anymore."

There’s a moment of stunned silence before you break into a wide smile. "Vil, you absolute idiot."

He recoils slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months now! I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you."

Vil blinks, taken aback. "You... you knew?"

"I didn’t know know," you admit, "but I had a feeling. You’re not exactly subtle, Vil."

He stares at you, a mixture of relief and embarrassment flooding his system. "Why didn’t you say anything, then?"

"Because I wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out yourself," you say with a smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I didn’t think it’d take this long, though."

Vil narrows his eyes, though there’s no malice in his expression. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you love me," you tease, reaching out to cup his cheek gently. "What does that say about you?"

He huffs, though his heart is fluttering in his chest at your touch. "That I have terrible taste."

You laugh again, the sound bright and infectious, and before Vil can say anything else, you pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, gentle, and Vil feels like his entire world is melting away in that moment. The taste of saltwater lingers on your lips, and for the first time in a long time, Vil isn’t worried about appearances or perfection. He’s just... happy.

When you finally pull away, both of you are smiling like fools. "So," you say, your voice teasing, "does this mean we’re a thing now?"

Vil rolls his eyes, though he can’t stop the grin spreading across his face. "I suppose it does."

"Good," you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Because I’m not letting you back out of this one, Mr. Superstar."

Vil chuckles against your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you even closer. "Oh, trust me," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, "I have no intention of backing out. But I do expect you to stop wearing those dreadful seaweed masks."

You gasp dramatically, pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye. "Excuse you! Seaweed is nature’s skincare miracle, Vil. Just because it’s not wrapped in fancy packaging doesn’t mean it’s ineffective."

He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Perhaps, but you’ll have to let me introduce you to something a little more refined. If we’re going to be a couple, I simply can’t allow my significant other to use subpar beauty products."

"Oh, is that so?" you ask, amusement twinkling in your eyes. "I didn’t realize I was dating a beauty tyrant."

"It’s for your own good," he says with mock seriousness, though there’s a warmth behind his gaze that betrays his affection. "Think of it as part of your glow-up. You’ll thank me later."

You can’t help but laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. It’s strange, really—how quickly this has all come together, yet how natural it feels. You never would’ve guessed that your casual banter and late-night talks would lead to this, but now that it’s happening, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Vil reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but purposeful. "You know," he says softly, his usual sharp tone melting into something softer, "I’ve never met anyone quite like you."

You smile at him, feeling the warmth of his words settle into your chest. "I could say the same about you, Vil. You’re not as scary as people think, you know."

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "That’s a well-maintained persona, I’ll have you know. Can’t let people think I’m soft."

"Oh, but you are," you tease, poking him lightly in the chest. "At least with me."

He scoffs lightly, though there’s no real bite behind it. "I’ll deny it if you tell anyone."

You laugh, resting your forehead against his as you savor the closeness between you. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel completely at peace, as if everything has fallen into place. Vil, with all his elegance, wit, and sharpness, has somehow become the person you’ve come to care about more than you ever thought possible. And now, as he holds you close, you know that you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

"I’m glad it’s you," you whisper, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "I never thought I’d fall for a perfectionist with an ego the size of the sun, but here we are."

He lets out a soft, genuine laugh, his arms wrapping around you more securely. "I never thought I’d fall for someone who argues with me over skincare, but I suppose life has a sense of humor."

"Looks like we’re both in for a wild ride, then," you say with a grin.

Vil hums in agreement, his hand gently stroking your hair. "As long as it’s with you, I think I can handle it."

You smile, feeling your heart soar at his words. There’s a certain magic to this moment—a kind of fairy tale that feels like it’s been written just for the two of you. And as you sit there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something truly beautiful.

"Well then," you say, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye, "looks like you’re stuck with me, Schoenheit."

"Forever, I hope," he says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss—this one longer, deeper, filled with the promise of something lasting.

And in that moment, with the moon shining overhead and the waves lapping gently against the shore, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together..

Masterlist

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era: the visual novel (a fan project)

On a whim, I've decided to finally just publicly release this project that I've had laying around for two years at this point, for Dazai's birthday today. It was originally made for my very dear friend @letmereachforthestars , when I first introduced her to the series and wanted her to be able to read my favorite BSD light novel in an easier-to-read format. You need a computer to be able to play. The details and links are under the cut:

If you've never played a visual novel before, it's basically a novel in the form of a video game. Text will appear line by line, one a time on the screen, and it will be accompanied by relevant background visuals, music, and sound effects, to make the reading experience more immersive, and more stimulating than just reading from a book. Some visual novels have actual gameplay elements to them, and some are just books and nothing else (oftentimes dating sims/choose-your-own-adventure novels), the latter of which this is. If you've played the mobile game Bungou Tales/Mayoi, the story sections of that game are basically mini visual novels.

This game was made with screenshots and music from the anime, sound effects from the anime and Bungou Tales and free sound effect online sources, as well as graphics and fonts and other assets from Bungou Tales and other official BSD art (particularly the official anime soundtrack cd covers). The script is taken entirely from the official Yen Press translation of Dark Era, with the exception of about two or three iconic lines that I used different translations of because I felt like they had more impact. Additionally, at the very, very end, I added on the original ending scene from the Dark Era stage play and wrote a few fanfic lines of my own to accompany it you can tell because they are very cringe and don't match Asagiri's writing style.

Before playing the game, there are a few very important things to keep in mind; PLEASE read all this:

I am not a professional in the slightest. I took some coding classes in high school, and have some photoshop skills (when it comes to the design elements of the menus), but for the most part the former wasn't much help here; this was my very first time ever using the Renpy engine, and I made this entirely from scratch. I used my knowledge of playing other visual novels to emulate the kinds of effects and timing that is typical for these games, and I think it turned out pretty well all things considered, but it's still very amateur. This is most evident in the sound effects. The sound effects have no volume consistency between them, and some of them, particularly the gun/battle sfx, can come on very suddenly and be loud. I highly, HIGHLY encourage going into the settings and turning down the sound effects volume (the music should be fine), so that you're not startled by certain sounds when they happen, and for a lengthy time. I wouldn't blame you if you decide to turn the sfx off entirely if's too distracting, honestly 🫠 I am no expert in sound files equalizing and making sound files loop seamlessly, so this was by far the most tedious and frustrating part of the process of making this for me. Hopefully it doesn't ruin the game or break immersion too much if you decide to leave them on (I hope you do, for the rain and clock sounds at least, but again I wouldn't blame you if you can't).

Dark Era is the most faithful light novel adaptation in the anime, but there are still a handful of scenes, mostly fight scenes, that got shaved down significantly. Because of this, there are numerous occasions where I had to simply linger on a black screen or the same screenshot for a long period of time, while tons and tons of narration happens, because there's simply nothing I can show to accompany said narration. This is not ideal, but unfortunately I didn't have much else of a choice in those instances, so I hope it's not too distracting. There are also a few instances of straight-up inconsistencies between the novel and the anime (ex. the fight between Oda and Akutagawa happens in the woods in the novel, but in the anime it's still right outside the art museum), so sometimes what you're reading won't quite match the screenshots I use. Fortunately it's never anything major, but it does happen.

There will sometimes be long, unchanging black screens. Don't worry, the game isn't broken; just wait long enough and it will continue.

Sometimes, a character will get cut off when speaking, and when that happens the dialogue will auto-force to the next line. If you didn't get a chance to see what was said before, check the text backlog/history (in the menu or the H key).

Last but not least, this game was made with the default text speed in mind. Meaning, that when it comes to certain specific scenes, the mood/tone of them, made up of the timing of music, transitions, sound effects, etc, all of it was arranged around the speed at which things progress when using the default text speed. I completely understand if you can't, but if at all possible, please try not to change the text to go too much faster or slower, especially faster, because certain scenes will lose a lot of impact otherwise. If you already know Dark Era, you probably have an idea of some of the scenes I'm referring to. At the very least, during the more high-stakes/intense scenes, please try to play through those all at once without stopping, for the greatest impact based on how I designed the game, and only pause/quit during the slower scenes. There are specific moments that I'm really proud of how they came out, and I'd like for them to have the maximum impact that I intended :') (also note that if you make the text appear instantly, the cut-off dialogue mentioned above simply will not appear at all, and you won't even know to look back for them, so please refrain from making the text instant at the very least)

Ignore the cringe sappy final message

...I think that's everything. With all that out of the way, here are the links for both PC and Mac:

Download the PC version

Download the Mac version

This was a passion project for me for a good many months back in 2022. It started out just as a gift for my friend, but in the end I was really satisfied with how it turned out, despite how tedious and frustrating it was to work on. I've been hesitant to share it with the fandom for all this time because I kinda doubt anyone would really be interested in something like this especially since it's not stormbringer or beast, but someone on discord who tried it told me that I should share it, so here it is. I'm sharing it not just because I'm proud of my work, but because Dark Era is a truly amazing light novel — underrated, in my opinion (yes, I said what I said) — and far better than the anime adaptation, as good as that is, and I want more people to read it. If reading the books is hard for you and you've never read Dark Era before, if I can help just one more person to read it with this, I'll be happy, and consider my job done. 💖

I so desperately want to make more of these visual novels for the other light novels, but sadly, some of them simply aren't possible thanks to how many scenes are missing from the anime, like with Entrance Exam in particular. I've also been waiting with vain, thin hope that Bungou Tales will eventually reach seasons 3 and 4, so I can use their Fifteen and Untold Origins title screens like I did here, if those ever exist. However, I'm also held back thinking about certain scenes that would require some redrawing/drawing additional details to match what's written in the novels. If anyone has any ideas on things I could do to possibly get around these issues, or just thoughts in general about how the other light novels might be tackled, or if you're an artist who can recreate the anime's style and takes commissions/knows someone who does, I'd absolutely love to hear from you! As well as any advice/help on how I can smooth out/improve this project here!

Anyway, sorry for the long wall of text. Thank you for reading all this, if you did, and if you do try the game, please let me know your thoughts; I crave any and all feedback. 💙✨

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 10

18+ / NSFW!!!! MDNI!!!!!

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~6.7k words

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

Chapter Content: smut (NSFW c/w below the cut!), kissing, making out, some unwanted advances by an NPC on Y/N!, hannie gets a little jealous

My Masterlist

NSFW Chapter Content: dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (please practice safe sex!), Jeonghan has a corruption kink and a ‘sir’ kink!, scolding/light degradation, edging/orgasm denial, some manhandling w/o establishing ground rules (please communicate before you do any kind of roughhousing in the bedroom ok? these two just happen to like the same thing!), nicknames: sir (for JH), ‘little whore’ (just once for Y/N).

Author’s Note: We’ve reached the final chapter!! I decided to end this series with Y/N and JH’s first time having sex together because I wasn’t rly sure how to end it without literally writing an entire series of novels lol (not that I WOULD’NT!). Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reblogged/liked this series!! It’s my first fanfic series for Seventeen and I had so much fun! I’m working on a school life AU fic featuring Wonwoo and a dystopian AU featuring DK next!! 😊

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @Illucere @lukeys-giggle

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You had never been to Paris, but it fit how you’d pictured it almost exactly. The filigreed architecture, the wide, cobble-stoned streets, the elegant storefronts along the Champs Elysée... you were drinking it all in on the car ride to the hotel.

You had your own hotel room, which was more than you had expected. The designer brands had sprung for an entire floor, accommodating single rooms for each member and their staff—an upside of having so many brand ambassadors in one group.

You didn’t exactly have time to settle in, however. Your next event was taking place in the afternoon the following day and you and the other staff still needed to coordinate with each venue’s security on exactly when the members would arrive at their respective events. For you, this meant another car ride to YSL’s offices, where you and other staff would discuss details and procure badges for the runway show and afterparty the next day.

You dropped your bag down on the hotel bed, barely absorbing the luxurious room before you heard a knock at the door.

It was Yoon Jeonghan.

“Nuna,” he said as he waltzed right past you and into your hotel room. You instinctively looked out into the hallway, eyes wide, making Jeonghan laugh as he took off his shoes and sprawled out onto the bed, making himself at home.

“It’s more suspicious when you do that, you know,” he said, and you immediately shut the door and quietly—but urgently—told him to keep his voice down.

“What are you doing here?” you basically whispered, getting closer to where he was lying on the bed.

“You don’t want me to be in here?” The look he gave you was somewhere between a smirk and a pout, but the glint in his eyes made you pretty certain why he was here.

“Jeonghan-shi,” you said politely but firmly.

“Oh, professional mode,” he said—in English, too, just so it was crystal clear that he was making fun of you. You just fixed him with a glare, which unfortunately only made his grin wider.

“I have to go to the YSL office with the other staff soon, so I don’t have time to entertain you right now.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just watch you get ready.” The look on his face seemed to challenge you to kick him out as he laid back on the bed, fully spectating now.

“Okay, fine,” you said, deciding to call his bluff and quickly unzipping your bag, taking out your makeup and other supplies to freshen up a bit before you had to leave. Does he actually just want to be in here with me? You wondered, finding the idea hard to believe. Jeonghan could be doing a million things right now—it wasn’t often that he got to relax away from the commotion of the other members and their constant schedules. You knew he had tonight off, and that he could at least get dinner with Joshua or Mingyu... but he was in here, in your room, instead—watching you carefully as you sat at the sleek, modern-style vanity table in the corner of the room combing out your airplane hair with your fingers.

“Nuna, you didn’t bring a hairbrush?” he asked, sounding almost like a little kid.

“No, I forgot it,” you said, slightly embarrassed at even this extremely minor error. You’d moved on to gently patting your face with oil blotting paper as you saw Jeonghan walking out of the room.

“You can use mine; I’ll be right back.” It was a pretty innocuous thing, just lending you his hairbrush... But something about the way he’d said it... so casually, the way that a boyfriend would talk to you, made your heart leap a little bit.

Sure enough he returned with a hairbrush, but rather than handing it to you, he came up behind where you were seated in front of the small mirror and started gently brushing out your hair for you, making you tense up at first, but gradually relaxing under his touch.

Wow, you thought, unsure of the last time someone had brushed your hair for you... You honestly couldn’t even remember if your mom brushed your hair as a child. This feels nice.

You closed your eyes before even realizing it, the sensation of Jeonghan softly brushing out your hair was so relaxing. Jeonghan glanced at your face in the reflection of the vanity mirror, his heart squeezing inexplicably at your clearly exhausted expression. After a minute, he stopped brushing, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head.

Your eyes flung open at the feeling of his sweet kiss, and you whirled around awkwardly, eliciting a laugh from him.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” he teased in a low voice, “but you looked like all you want to do is sleep just now.”

The thought of staying here, ordering room service, and having Jeonghan’s fingers gently run through your hair, lulling you to sleep... to be honest, nothing sounded more appealing. But you couldn’t abandon your responsibilities, no matter how tempting it was.

By some stroke of genius (or insanity) your hand reached up to Jeonghan’s face, cupping the side of his cheek before gently running over your thumb over the cute mole under his eye. You were struck by how good his skin looked, even right after a long flight. It was so soft... He smiled at the touch, nuzzling into your hand slightly before you stood up and whispered to him.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t go,” he answered in a low voice immediately, shooting some kind of electric charge right through your body. He’d told you not to go on the plane, too.

I don’t want to go.

You were both standing close together now, his eyes trailing down your face, then down your neck, all the way down your body it seemed. You wanted so badly to pull him into an eager, hungry kiss, but you felt that if you started you wouldn’t be able to stop...

But a rap at your door cut the tension immediately, making the pit of your stomach drop.

“Y/N-shi,” it was the sound of Jeonghan’s manager’s voice. “Are you ready? We’re going to head downstairs.”

“I’ll be right down, thank you!” you said quickly.

You bolted to your bag, pulling out a blazer to throw over your t-shirt and jeans from the flight.

“You’re so jumpy,” Jeonghan pouted, having been on the verge of kissing you—actually, more like devouring you. The truth was you were driving him insane. That worried but determined look in your eye, the gentle waves in your hair after he’d brushed it—you looked like a princess. Something powerful inside him wanted to...

Wanted to what exactly? This feeling he had looking at you—bleary-eyed from the plane, but somehow still gorgeous—it wasn’t violent... but it was intense.

Like he wanted to... corrupt you.

He realized he’d never felt this kind of urge before. But he wanted to see your pretty, innocent face blush dark red while he did filthy things to you. Things that you may have even done before... he couldn’t say because he didn’t know that much about your past experiences in the bedroom, really, and honestly he didn’t care. Your whole aura exuded innocence to him, and he knew it might be wrong but truthfully... it drove him up the wall.

You didn’t really pick up on this, though, now having been thrown back into reality—where your professional responsibilities laid in wait for you. You quickly rummaged through your things in your carry-on, desperate to find where your folder of schedules and contracts was buried.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Jeonghan said, unable to ignore your frantic rush out the door and trying to bring you back to him with his soothing voice. You were so affected by your work. You cared a lot. It was plain to see how big your heart was.

Jeonghan knew he was being selfish. He knew that you were making the choice to go out the door right now, and that your job came first... but he’d been finding it more and more difficult to resist getting close to you, teasing you, touching you...

“Will I see you later?” You turned to Jeonghan before leaving, trying to ignore his blatantly hungry stare.

“Mmhm,” he hummed sweetly right away, his eyes almost boring through you. His gaze was so intent, so tempting that all you could do was immediately slam the door behind you, practically running to the lobby.

***

The meeting with YSL was briefer than you thought it would be. It turns out, their team really just wanted to get drinks. They asked you and the other staff to go out with them, and you could hardly refuse.

“We can discuss business over some wine, yes?” The tall gentleman in the impeccably-cut suit said to you—he was apparently a production director who worked with a lot of brands during Fashion Week. You didn’t like the way he had guided you by the small of your back into the dimly lit bar, but you brushed it off as him just being friendly.

You were honestly too exhausted for drinks and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel, your chest still fluttering after the way Jeonghan had looked at you before you’d left.

“Where did you learn French?” the tall man asked you. You were now seated around a low table on red, velvety booths at the back of the chic bar. “It sounds like you’ve been speaking for a long time.” You were flattered that he was complimenting you—sincerely, too, by actually speaking to you in French instead of English. A seal of approval, you had learned.

“Oh, I kind of learn languages as a hobby,” you said.

“Y/N-shi is our language ace,” one of your coworkers said.

“That’s a good asset to have, indeed,” the man said, “I’ve never met someone who does something so laborious for fun.” He was kind of sprawled out on the bench, right next to you. He had his arm draped casually along the back of the seat behind you, which wouldn’t have bothered you if he hadn’t also been looking at you up and down... This guy felt sleazy. And you were pretty sure that he was trying to neg you with that ‘laborious’ comment.

“Yeah, I’m very into boring activities,” you said sarcastically in French, and then repeated it to your coworker in Korean, who mercifully laughed, hopefully picking up that you wanted her to stick around in the conversation so you wouldn’t be cornered by this guy.

“You don’t seem to have time to get bored with how hard you work,” the guy said, “Live a little.” He was changing his strategy. He had turned fully toward you now, the first two buttons of his shirt coming undone under his blazer. His cologne smelled overwhelming. You didn’t like the grin he flashed you with the words ‘live a little.’ His whole aura made your stomach turn. Your mind flashed to the smell of Jeonghan’s perfume. Much more subtle and beautiful...

“That’s true,” you said stiffly, before deciding that you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. “I’m so sorry, but I am actually starting to get a headache—” you tried to politely extract yourself from the conversation, standing up as you made your excuse, but the man suddenly grabbed hold of your wrist.

“Oh, don’t go just yet,” he said, obviously trying to keep his tone lighthearted, “the night is young!”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, adamant about keeping things professional, although now you’d put it together that this whole meeting was probably an excuse to go out and hit on the women in your team all along, “It’s been a long day, I’m going to go back to the hotel.” Your tone was firm enough to leave no room for interpretation, but you turned to your other colleague, indicating with your eyes that you needed help getting this guy off of you. Thankfully, she picked up on it.

“Yes, Y/N-shi,” she said quickly in her broken but polite French, “I saw you didn’t sleep much on the plane—go get some rest!” You couldn’t have been more grateful that she said that. The guy’s grip loosened on you, and you took the opportunity to quickly leave—not even looking behind you or saying goodbye to the others.

It’s not like similar things had never happened before. Working in this industry, especially on the production side of things, you met all kinds of sleazy guys like that. You were just glad that he hadn’t been drunk enough to make a scene.

But still, you felt agitated now.

Who does he think he is grabbing a total stranger like that, angry, indignant feelings swirled through you in the cab back to the hotel, and we’re supposed to work together this week...

Your mood hung heavy over you as you finally returned, opening the door of your hotel room with a click, relieved to at least be back in your own space.

But the space wasn’t entirely your own, it seemed. You entered to find Jeonghan, dozing off on your bed.

He looked just as angelic as he had sleeping on the plane. You quietly took off your shoes and shrugged off your blazer. Normally, you’d be panicked about him still being in here... in your bed, no less. For a split second you considered calling the front desk to send you a roll-away bed. That’s something hotels do, right? But even your inner rule-follower seemed to scoff at how absurd the idea was. Who am I kidding? Honestly, you were too tired to even fight with yourself. Of course you were going to crawl right into bed next to Yoon Jeonghan. Of course you had imagined moments like this for months—though, not exactly under these circumstances.

You quietly got your things from your bag, changing and getting ready for bed as silently as possible in the bathroom.

But Jeonghan’s eyes had fluttered open when you returned.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice coming out so sweet and sleepy it made your heart ache a bit.

“Ah, did I wake you up?” you asked softly.

“No, no,” he said in a quick and reassuring voice. You liked how he did that when it was clear someone was worried. You could clearly see he didn’t want the people around him to overthink things and get stressed out, so he was always quick to reassure them. Including you.

“Come here,” he said, motioning for you to lay in his arms. Your heart pounded, more self-conscious now that he was awake. But you crawled into bed next to him, despite feeling like you might turn to dust right then and there.

“How was your meeting?” he asked softly as you nestled into his chest, his arms wrapping around you sweetly, one hand smoothing down your hair... You could almost cry it felt so sweet and nurturing when he did that.

“Oh, it was—” you weren’t sure what to say. It wasn’t really a meeting, more like an odd excuse to go out and hit on the female staff...

But Jeonghan picked up on a shift in your tone right away.

“Did something happen?” He asked, gently brushing your hair away from your face, tucking it sweetly behind your ear. He was so close to you. This was the closest you had been since he’d come to your apartment that night. You didn’t want to talk about some sleazy guy on the production staff, you just wanted to fall asleep in Jeonghan’s arms, his hand petting you sweetly until you both drifted off... But Jeonghan’s curiosity was piqued even more by your pause.

“It’s nothing,” you sighed, “Just some French asshole.” Jeonghan’s hand stopped mid-brush along your hair.

“Who? What asshole?” his voice was still low and quiet, but he propped himself up a bit on his elbow to look directly at you.

“This guy who works on these runway shows,” you said, “He was just... he didn’t seem to be very professional.”

“What does that mean?”

Whoa, he’s worried, you realized.

“It’s nothing, Jeonghan,” you said, taking Jeonghan’s face between your hands, suddenly feeling anxious at his reaction, “they took us out to drinks, which I think was the point of the meeting all along, and he was just clearly only interested in flirting with the women there.”

“With the women there, or with you?”

“...What’s wrong?” It was strange for you to see Jeonghan react this way. You hadn’t seen him this amped up before, though he was still speaking at a low volume. You didn’t expect it—he always seemed so unflappable. He seemed to snap out of it at your question, though, quickly turning away from you. You could tell that he was embarrassed.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said after a moment, his immaturity dawning on him, making him feel ashamed that he had reacted so hastily. The thought of other men hitting on someone he was seeing usually didn’t bother him... But the thought of someone else putting you in a position like that made him kind of furious. He faced you again, his stomach sinking at the look on your face—desperate and exhausted.

“Sorry,” he repeated, his tone calmer and sweeter, apologetically brushing your cheek, “I just don’t like that some idiot was making you uncomfortable.”

Your pulse raced. You had to admit... he seemed to feel bad about it, but it felt kind of nice to see him get protective like that...

“Let’s forget about him,” you said softly. It was like the words fell straight onto Jeonghan’s heart, making it flip over. He gazed at you; his eyes unable to hide how badly he wanted you. He pulled you closer, embracing you under the covers now. The tightening grip of his arms around your waist filling you with butterflies. It felt good to be held by him. You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest, making him want to squeeze you even closer, you were being so cute.

You felt Jeonghan’s hand take a gentle hold of your head, tilting it up toward him, and before you could think, he was kissing you. His lips felt so soft... but the way he was sweetly teasing your lips made some deep urge within you come to life.

You leaned into his kiss, pressing into him with a little more eagerness. He noticed, taking the cue to deepen the kiss, gripping your head in both of his hands now as you two laid there, making out in the hotel bed.

It wasn’t long until you were whimpering quietly against his lips. He traced your bottom lip with his tongue before pulling away slightly... Hovering over you now, your eyes meeting to exchange a brief, craving look before he smoothly hooked his thumb into your mouth, forcing it open, and dove in again, kissing you much more aggressively.

Jeonghan’s tongue invaded your mouth and you couldn’t help moaning sweetly into him, the vibration making his body heat up even more. You looked so beautiful and desperate... He wanted nothing more than to tear your clothes off and fuck you right away—make you pant, beg, scream... But he knew it would be better to take his time.

Not that you couldn’t tell how hungry he was for you—the pleading feeling of his tongue, the way his hands were starting to roam over you. It occurred to you that Jeonghan had wanted to do this with you for a long time.

As he kissed you, your mind began to melt—falling further and further into the realm of total surrender.

Jeonghan could feel your body relaxing beneath him. Not to mention the way you were openly and greedily responding to his kisses.

She likes this.

You felt his fingertips slip underneath your pajama top; his hand cool against your skin as it slid up your bare stomach. You wrapped your arms around his neck, not discouraging him. His other hand was still holding your face firmly beneath his as he continued to feverishly make out with you. You could hear the soft, lapping noises of your kissing echoing through the room...

Suddenly you let out a yelp—louder than you’d intended—when you felt his hand ghost over your breast, his thumb brushing lightly against your already-pert nipple through the fabric of your cute, lacey bralette.

You felt Jeonghan smile against your lips, satisfied at your reaction.

“Mm, Y/N-ah you’re going to get us in trouble if you’re that loud,” he murmured in your ear, teasing you before trailing more kisses down your neck—making you gasp softly at the feeling of his silky, wet lips; reflexively gripping his shoulders.

He was making his way down your body, and you knew that if he went any further you might not be able to handle it... but with all of the pleasure coursing through you, gathering in the pit of your stomach, making your legs start to squirm... you didn’t want him to stop.

Jeonghan nipped at your collarbone, making you draw your breath in sharply before he continued to kiss you over your top—the space between your breasts, your abdomen, just below your belly button... You could feel your breathing getting more ragged the lower his face got.

His lips arrived at the space between the waistband of your pajama shorts and the raised hem of your top—his hand was still up your shirt, holding onto the sensitive spot along the bottom hem of your bra on one side. He looked up at you. His expression made it feel like he was challenging you, but you knew he was waiting for permission to go further. You had no idea what kind of face you were making... you felt like you could scream, your body felt so overwhelmed already.

In an attempt to control your volume, you bit into your own hand before glancing down at Jeonghan with your best “please continue” look.

He honestly didn’t care what kind of look you gave him; all he knew was the way you were desperately biting your own hand was hot enough for him to throw caution to the wind and discard your top for you. He pulled it over your arms and flung it aside in one fluid motion before returning to the space between your belly button and the waist of your shorts... kissing the sensitive spot sweetly while hooking his fingers underneath the band and pulling your shorts down to reveal your absolutely soaked underwear.

“Ah, who knew Y/N-ah was such a dirty girl,” he pretending to chide you in a low, commanding tone. Your stomach lurched at his words as your legs instinctively tried to snap together, your hand flying down from your mouth to try to cover yourself from his up-close view. But Jeonghan caught you by the wrist, forcing your hand to the side and holding it in place against the bed. He was surprisingly strong, and the decisive way he averted your attempt to cover yourself... did something to you.

You wouldn’t say that you were the kinkiest person out there... not by a long shot. But you couldn’t pretend you didn’t like being dominated a little. Especially by Yoon Jeonghan.

“No hiding,” Jeonghan’s command sent an electric shot right through you with his direct gaze and scolding tone.

“Yes, sir,” you said before thinking. There was a pause as you realized what you’d just called him, your hand writhing under Jeonghan’s grip in a futile attempt to cover your face out of embarrassment. Since when did you call people ‘sir!?’ Had you ever said that to someone!? Your eyes were wide and your face hot with disbelief, completely mortified.

You peeked down at Jeonghan, worried that he’d be weirded out by you calling him that out of nowhere, but he didn’t look weirded out at all...

If anything, he looked feral.

“Good girl,” he hummed, his smirk making it apparent just how turned on he was. It wasn’t just that you had called him ‘sir,’ but your cute, flustered reaction made him want to push your buttons even further. He kept his gaze directed at you as he placed his head between your legs again, watching as you averted your eyes—too overwhelmed to watch as he kissed the sweet wet spot that had formed on your underwear. So fucking cute, he couldn’t help thinking, enjoying this rare opportunity to see you so helpless. His lips started teasing you, planting wet kisses against your folds, with only the drenched fabric of your underwear standing between your bare cunt and his mouth. The embarrassment of him being so up close made your whole body flare up. Your legs were trembling with anticipation as you felt Jeonghan’s mouth moving before sucking lightly on your clit—making you moan, your back arching from the effort of trying not to be too loud or squirm too much.

Jeonghan was grinning against your underwear now. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. She can’t stand it. Your squirming, whimpering voice was too sexy. He wished he could watch you all hot and bothered like this forever, edging you until you cried.

He finally let go of your wrist, sitting back on his heels and making sultry eye contact with you before removing your underwear.

“Ah, I knew it,” he said softly, “nuna’s pussy is perfect.”

You couldn’t help turning your face to the side. You were so wound up that you didn’t know how to even react, like your mind wasn’t even aware of what your body was doing.

You felt Jeonghan shift his position slightly, threading his arms beneath your knees now so that your thighs were resting on his shoulders and he could grip your waist with his hands. Your face snapped toward him, something like fear rushing through you at the realization that he could see all of you up close now. He noticed the look of panic in your eyes and kissed the inside of your thigh sweetly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a velvety, whispered tone. He bent his head down and kissed the space just above your clit softly.

You threw your head back, biting your lip to contain the filthy sounds that were threatening to burst out of you as he began to lick and kiss your folds. His earlier kisses were delicious, but his mouth working delicately at your soaking wet cunt felt unreal.

“Mmm,” he moaned into you, the vibration stimulating you so harshly and suddenly that your hand flew down to his hair, taking the soft strands into your grip before you could even control yourself. But this only made him go harder at devouring you... He held you down by the hips, your legs shaking with ecstasy.

“Ah, Jeonghan-ah...” you moaned his name, making him murmur in satisfaction against your pussy, loving the sensation of you tugging his hair as his tongue dove in and out of you. He moved his head slightly, taking your clit between his lips and sucking on you. This threw you into a full-bodied convulsion. He wished you could just scream out the way you clearly wanted to... 

“Ah, I’m gonna come—” you breathed, certain that if he continued to fuck you with his tongue like this, you would surely get his face covered in your juices. The thought of it made you desperate to get him off of you and eager for him to keep going at the same time.

“Mmm, I can feel you tighten around my tongue when I put it in,” he mused against you, making you laugh nervously, caught off guard by such a specific and perverted comment. He took the opportunity to eat you even more vigorously, his tongue lapping up your juices as your clit twitched out of control...

You were about to succumb to a powerful orgasm, when suddenly the sensation of Jeonghan’s tongue disappeared.

You jerked your head up in confusion, only to see that Jeonghan was now standing at the end of the bed, giving you an incredulous look as he started casually removing his shirt.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, feigning innocence, “I thought you knew that if you want to come, you have to ask nicely.”

Your breathing was heavy, making your chest rise and fall dramatically as you narrowed your eyes at him. He just smirked, his lips and chin still glistening with your arousal. His taunting look turned you on way more than you wanted to admit. You gulped in air, trying to catch your breath. Jeonghan was down to just his underwear now, and you could see the burgeoning outline of his cock pressing against the black fabric of his briefs.

Alright, if you want to play that game...

You sat up, softening your face but still holding Jeonghan’s cruel gaze. You made your way to all fours on the bed before him and looked up, attempting your best coquettish face.

“Please, sir,” you said in a poutier tone than you normally used, batting your eyelashes and everything. “Please let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face almost cracked into a full-blown smile, making you feel smug for calling his bluff. Honestly, he didn’t think he could stand it either if that’s how you were going to be. The erotically pure sound of your voice, the angle of your sweet eyes gazing up at him, your begging tone... He didn’t think he could get any harder looking at you but somehow you’d provoked him even more.

He took your jaw roughly in his hand, jerking your face up further to meet his wolfish gaze.

“Better,” he said, “but not quite nice enough.” He enjoyed the flash of panic in your eyes almost as much as the glare that followed. Letting go of his grip on your face, he bent down to unhook your bra. His face was closer to yours now, and you could tell that he was reaching his limit, too.

“Sir, could I please make you feel good then?” you asked, your voice soft and syrupy sweet.

Jesus, Jeonghan thought, chuckling now at how outrageously turned on and amused he was by you toying with him like this.

He removed your bra, exposing your cute boobs. You sat up, suddenly nervous again and attempting to cover yourself from being totally naked in front of Jeonghan like this. Your abdomen was aching with want, your pussy still dripping from him going down on you... But his voice brought right back to the task at hand.

“What did I say about hiding?” he snapped at you, and you hurriedly lowered yourself back down to all fours, giving him an exaggerated, apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said, “please, let me make you feel good.”

“Oh? And how are you going to do that?” he asked, his tone mocking.

“Could I suck your cock?” you quirked your head cutely to the side, puffing out your lower lip and hoping that this would be enough to please him.

“What do you say?” he asked, but he was grinning—already palming his hard length, clearly enjoying this...

“Pretty please?” you smiled sweetly, and Jeonghan almost groaned he was so overwhelmed with how sexy and cute you were being. How could he have known that you would turn into this perfect, provocative sex kitten for him? How did he get so lucky?

“Good girl,” he said and he let his stiff length spring from his briefs as they fell to the floor. You couldn’t help letting a small gasp escape your lips. You should have expected his cock to be just as pretty as the rest of him, but this man had the most beautiful dick you’d ever seen. You looked up at him again, smiling gently, before taking his tip into your mouth, teasing his slit a little with your tongue. Jeonghan let his head fall back, the feeling of your mouth on him making him groan in pleasure.

You gradually worked his cock further and further into your mouth, swirling your tongue in slow, sensuous circles around his girth before getting into a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his length. He looked down at you, gritting his teeth from the stimulation you were giving him. You were talented at this. You probably wouldn’t say so, but Jeonghan could tell; your obliviousness to how sexy you were just making him desire you more.

He took a fistful of your hair in his grip, gently helping to push his cock into your throat. You made a slight gagging noise, but didn’t show any sign of stopping—instead grabbing onto his thighs to support yourself as you picked up the pace.

Jeonghan was moaning, but conscious of not getting too loud. He sounds so good, you thought as you sucked your cheeks in, maximizing the pressure on his cock. You held onto him tightly, sure from his grip on you that he was getting close to coming.

But before you could finish him off, he pulled you away from his dick by your hair, your mouth releasing from him with a pop as his grip forced your face roughly upward  to look straight into his ravenous eyes.

“You little whore.” His voice might have been low and seductive, but there was a bemused smirk on his face as he called you the degrading nickname. You couldn’t help smiling a little, too, feeling cocky at him lashing out like that—clearly you’d almost made him come before he wanted to.

But you couldn’t say he looked mad. He was grinning softly, still holding you roughly by your hair as both of you panted, challenging each other with the respective gleams in your eyes, held upright only by the tension of the other’s grip.

After a moment of catching your breath, Jeonghan closed the gap between you with another deep, gluttonous kiss. His arms wrapped around you and you felt his hard cock—wet now with his precum and your spit—press into your lower abdomen from his standing position as you held onto him, still on your knees atop the bedspread.

Jeonghan guided you backward onto the bed with his body, crawling on top of you as he pushed his tongue further into your mouth. You could faintly taste your own come still left on his lips. He raised your arms above your head, holding you down by your wrists and making you squirm beneath him. He left hungry, heavy kisses along your jaw, your neck, moving down to your chest... You mewled with pleasure at the feeling of his tongue capturing one of your nipples, lathing over the hard bud and making you jolt.

“Y/N-ah’s nipples are so cute,” he said, suddenly shifting back to his regular speaking tone, making you laugh at his random sweet commentary. But you weren’t distracted for long before he was sucking on your other nipple, still pinning you down by the wrists to ensure you wouldn’t to put a stop to his teasing.

“Ah, Jeonghan...” you panted his name, and he turned to look at you again. He was so beautiful. You couldn’t believe that this beautiful man was ravishing you like this...

“Nuna, I can’t be patient anymore,” he said in your ear, and you felt his hard length slide against you... You simply answered his implied question by reaching your neck forward to kiss him again, softly this time.

“Please let me come this time, sir,” you whispered, smiling at him. Jeonghan returned your sly smile, adjusting his body ever so slightly before effortlessly gliding his hard cock into you.

You let out a high-pitched sigh at the luxurious stretch his cock gave you, his thick length seeming to barely fit between your walls. It had been a while since you’d done this, really—you were just thankful that he’d gotten you so wet already. It didn’t hurt at all, but you felt a delicious tension at the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, Y/N,” he breathed in your ear, his hands pressing down firmly on your wrists as his head dropped to your shoulder. You were so tight; he was sure if he moved at all he’d come right away—and he didn’t want to do that just yet. It wasn’t nearly enough time inside of you. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t masturbated a few times while imagining this exact moment, but of course the real thing was beyond compare...

You started to lose it, the way that Jeonghan wasn’t moving—just kissing you languidly, letting go of your wrists in favor of holding you by the waist.

“Jeonghan—” you whimpered his name, unable to even form a full sentence you wanted him to start fucking you so badly. Jeonghan glanced down at you, giving you one more kiss before he started to thrust his hips into you.

His cock slid in and out of you so easily, the delicious rhythm of stretching you and then releasing the tension and then stretching you again making you moan, and even you weren’t sure if you could keep the volume down.

Jeonghan watched your beautiful face twist into an expression he’d never seen from you—completely ecstatic. He loved that you smiled while he was inside you, feeling your whole body respond to his made him feel in danger of losing control.

He picked up the pace, holding you in place with one hand on your waist and the other hooked underneath your knee, pulling it up higher to get an even deeper angle into you. You felt his cock hit your most sensitive spot repeatedly, covering your mouth again to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure.

“Uh-uh,” Jeonghan quickly pulled your hand away from your mouth, “you don’t get to cover your mouth, Y/N.” You pressed your lips firmly together, practically biting your tongue now. Jeonghan had sat up on his knees, holding you by the hips as he slammed his cock into you repeatedly, his pace getting brutal now.

“Jeonghan!” you couldn’t help letting out a yelp of his name as your orgasm finally hit you in full force, making your legs tremble against Jeonghan, your arousal dripping down his cock—still beating into you steadily. Your face was flushed and there were tiny tears pricking at the edges of your eyes, which was all Jeonghan needed to be sent over the edge, as well. He felt the coil inside him snap and quickly removed himself from you, coming instead all over your bare stomach and tits.

You felt the hot sensation of his come on you, both of you breathing heavily... You looked up at him to see him already looking at you, panting, completely fucked out. He drew his breath in sharply, and you both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

You covered your face in embarrassment, suddenly internalizing what just happened, your exhaustion mixed with the joy of having finally done it with Jeonghan making you delirious.

“Stay there, nuna,” Jeonghan said sweetly before scampering off to the bathroom, returning with a towel and carefully cleaning you up. He was back to making cute and silly noises as he touched you, any trace of the man who just fucked you had gone now, replaced with your usual adorable Jeonghan. He finished cleaning you and himself up, and jumped right into bed, curling up next to you like a baby.

You couldn’t stop giggling; you were so excited and nervous—you were sure that at least someone on this floor heard the two of you... these old fashioned hotels didn’t exactly have sound-proof walls. But even you were fine with leaving that to be tomorrow’s problem.

Jeonghan watched you, overjoyed that you seemed so giddy.

“Ah, nuna’s smile is the best,” he said, nuzzling your nose with his.

“Hannie’s smile is the best,” you said, melting his heart with the nickname.

Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around you and you cuddled your face into his silky hair,  unable to stop smiling even after you drifted off to sleep.

[radioapple-heathen]

My Top 10 Radioapple Fic 'Series' Recs

I've been working on this for a while. With nearly 4k fics for this ship on A03 (at the time of me writing this rec list), it can be difficult to find gems. I was really grateful for the rec lists I stumbled upon when I first joined this fandom, and I want to share the fics that have changed my brain chemistry with both newcomers and oldtimers alike. As with all rec lists, this list is completely subjective and curtailed to my tastes/preferences. I'm also sure this list will change with time as more fics get added to the fandom. As of mid-2024 though, here's where I'm at.

For background, I am an acespec 30+ married woman with ADHD raising a AuDHD child, and I appreciate fics that handle these aspects with respect and care. I've also been in fandom/writing for 20+ years, never professionally, always for fun.

My fic preferences:

I gravitate towards crisp prose that is sophisticated but not weighed down by excessive $5 dollar words. I like my fic like I like my food: digestible. The writing doesn't have to be perfect (typos and grammatical errors happen, that I can deal with) but the characterization is important to me.

I gravitate towards top!Lucifer because Alastor is a prissy little power bottom, but there are certainly exceptions to that on this list. At my core, though, I think they're switches with preferences.

I gravitate towards fics that have a nice balance of plot and romance, preferably leaning more towards the latter. I read fanfic for the relationship so if the plot supersedes the 'radioapple'-ness, I tend to find myself drifting/skimming, before giving up altogether.

I gravitate towards fics in sub <200k. Again this is an attention thing, no fault of the author, people loveee long fics. But often, even if I'm loving a fic, I'm like okay, where are we going with this? Again, some exceptions, which I'll highlight below.

I can be picky about my slow burns, like if it takes 100k to hold hands, I'll prob pass? BUT THIS IS JUST ME AND I HAVE THE ATTENTION SPAN OF A GOLDFISH AND I WANT TO FORCE THEIR HEADS TOGETHER AND MAKE THEM KISS ASAP?????

I gravitate towards genderfluid or intersex Lucifer, he's a shapeshifter and an angel, it just.. makes sense to me.

I have a preference for M or E-rated fics. I just really love the vulnerability and character development that can be explored through intimacy, especially in re: to Alastor's ace-ness. And what can I say? I wanna read about twink king getting it on with his deer man. That being said, I do have some T+ recs in my multi-chap/oneshot rec list.

Anyways. With all that said, let's get into the actual fics. Note, this isn't an exhaustive list, I could rec fics forever, there's so much talent in this fandom. These are just the ones that have altered my genetic makeup.

Top 10 Series

1.) All changed, changed utterly by @tollingreminiscentbells

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for installments 1-5. Last installment (6) it switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

This is actually my favorite radioapple fic/series in the entire fandom. This series has rendered me somehow both speechless and bursting at the seams with praise. The writing is superb, the prose is elegant, but also easy to parse. Alastor meeting Lucifer as a human (and then again, in Hell) is by far my favorite trope of this ship, and this author takes said trope and weaves it into a masterpiece. The way they write Lucifer’s character (grieved by wrongs and loss, ancient and capable and so, so loving) is such a joy. And Alastor, god. I personally find Alastor’s POV tricky to write. He is a very complex character with a very specific narration voice, whimsical and deadly and clever and emotional stunted and possessive of what's his — which in this case, is Lucifer. I will never be able to sing enough praises. It truly cemented my love for this wonderful, complex, violently loving ship.

2.) Between the Shadow & the Soul by winterveritas

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

This author will pop up several times because everything they touch is gold. I really love this take on the radioapple dynamic where Alastor is rather smitten from the start, because I feel like many fics drag him kicking and screaming into admitting he cares (mine included, no shade). But like, Winter is able to write him this way while still keeping him in-character imo, and I just... love it???

3.) Lucifer and his Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by @keelywolfe

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

You might actually be living under a rock if you haven't read this series. If that's the case, I IMPLORE YOU, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, read this series. It has one of the best Lucifer's narration voices I've ever read. Also, it has one of my favorite tropes: "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time." AND AND AND intersex!top!Lucifer, YES PLEASE???? This series also is one of my 'typical attention span for fics' exceptions because it just hit 200k, and I am still 100% invested. I could read about these two idiots forever.

4.) Wicked Game by TrashDemonX

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Not gonna lie, I went into this with the idea of just like, Smut Galore (and it is, bless), but it's actually become just a fascinating character study on Alastor. Impeccable writing, and there is currently one chapter left of part 3 AND I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT???? This is a top!Alastor fic but Lucifer isn't like a pillow princess, my man is involved and so for me, it works well. I can't say enough about how WELL this author writes Alastor's voice. Again, not an easy feat imo.

5.) Radioapple Broadcast by blatantblue

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for Part 1, Lucifer for Part 2, Alastor for Part 3. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: This was a positive JOY. Incredible writing and storytelling. Dom/sub undertones which is a huge plus for me, especially when Alastor is the sub. I reread this series often (and I usually am not a huge reread-er unless its been a while), but this is just a comfort fic, I think.

6.) Cataclysmic Cathechism by @wyldefire-writings

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: MPreg.

Notes:

I am about to show my entire ass right now but this series. My LORD.

Not gonna lie, MPreg was actually a squick for me before I joined this fandom/ship, but after reading this fic specifically, I'm now like, Al, my deer, my main man, knock that KoH the fuck up. Honestly, this was such a ride, and both of the boys were written SO WELL. Also, this author has the funniest A/N's I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

7. Hunger Pains by @theaffablescamp

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Excellent writing and some very intriguing plot happening right now. Has arguably the most intense wing preening session I have ever read that legit lives rent free in my head. Another "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time" fic which is just delightful.

8.) machinations by fiveandnocents

Series: Complete. Rated: T-M. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

AHH I love this so much. Essentially, Alastor strikes up a relationship with Lucifer, as a means to manipulate him AND THE IDIOT FALLS IN LOVE UGHHH. It's chef's kiss. Spectacular characterization, this could be canon, and I'd be like yep, this happens in season 2, haha.

9.) By Name by @eunicorne

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Murder? He regens, it's fine.

Notes:

So. I will continue to show my ass. As a note, I don't like violence/gore for violence's sake but when there are BDSM undertones and aftercare, I'm a fucking goner. This was one of my first dives into very dark aspects of radioapple, and I.. my brain chemistry has been altered by this series.

10.) imagine being loved by me by deliciously deviant

Series: In-Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Cannibalism, I have never met a deader dove.

Notes:

Incredible writing and character voices BUT HOLY SHIT not for the weak or even average stomach. Again, I am soft for the whole, "I'm gonna cause you pain that you want/need to get out of your head" and I feel like I couldn't leave this rec out just bc of the content matter, but I am serious, read at your own risk.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. If you have any series recs of your own, feel free to share in the comments!

I also have my top 10 Multi-Chaptered (non-series) and top 10 oneshots recs list in my drafts rn, I'll be posting those in the next few days!

[what-even-is-thiss]

Part of the reason I stopped writing fanfic was because my audience expected sanders sides from me and I was sort of petering out on that series already. There was more to it than that though. I could’ve moved on to other fandoms. Maybe gotten an ao3 account and just been someone that writes for a lot of fandoms. But there’s other things about it I don’t really find fulfilling anymore.

Fanfiction is by its nature really limiting. You’ve gotta stick to certain characters, certain archetypes, certain specific tropes if you want to get back a lot of positive feedback. Or feedback in general.

And constructive criticism doesn’t really exist in fandom space either. People are either really positive about your work or huge dicks to the point of easy dismissal. And that’s partially because of all the unspoken rules. Only say nice things or don’t say anything at all. Which I don’t necessarily disagree with because fanfic is free brain candy made for you by a person who’s just passionate about what they’re doing. It’s nearly cruel to try and offer unsolicited criticism in that kind of situation.

But people just want certain things from fanfiction. Fantasy fulfillment, love, very specific types of catharsis, 14 year old goth kid levels of dark and edgy. And there was a point in my life I was fine with that but I can’t anymore.

My ideas got too different. People stopped reading. I stopped wanting to finish things. My prose style is often abrupt and short and poetic. I enjoy being experimental. Experimentation isn’t generally appreciated in fanfiction. Not as much as it is in published fiction in my opinion.

Yes published fiction has its own issues. Its readers are also creatures of habit. But not quite as much as fanfiction readers. And at the end of the day, I realized I want to be a writer. Like a professional writer. Even if that just ends up being a side thing for me. And fanfiction doesn’t really get you there most of the time. For some select few it has, but those folks are often in the romance or smut marketplace. I am not.

Fanfiction has its place. It had its place in my past. I got a lot of practice. I met some good people. But I don’t really read or write it anymore.

I guess what I’m saying is that if fanfiction isn’t fulfilling for you anymore, you’re under no obligation to keep writing it or reading it. I’ve got a perfectly happy online life these days hopping from one fandom to another on a whim without any fanfiction at all. I feel a lot better getting feedback on my writing by talking with other writers and my friends and family about it. I no longer feel like I’m just sending something out into the world to be met with silence. I’m no longer embarrassed to show people I know in my personal life my writing because they haven’t seen the source material the work is based on. My work is just my work, unconnected to the baggage of a source material. I get more ideas from reading, I’m reading a larger variety of things, I’m meeting people who like reading and writing published fiction.

Fanfiction can be great, it can be for some people the kind of writing they want to do forever. But there’s a whole world outside of it. And depending on who you are, it might be holding you back. Just something worth thinking about.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: This is me writing in hopes to distract myself from that abysmal final! Just to preface that Lee Richardson is the performance psychology consultant at LFC :) Also, I feel like Trent’s quite shy so I don’t think he’d be as rude as he is in this fanfic but for this to be a kinda enemies to lovers, I upped his rude boi energy by like 100% lol

There's no age gap btw! In the UK, it's doable to become a licensed sports psychologist in 6-10 years. If it took Reader 7/8, that would place her around 25 or 26 years of age. So, both Trent and Reader are of similar ages!

Warnings: psychology but nothing too in-depth, Trent’s rude in this :D, angst, very tense energy

Word Count: 1.9k words (6 mins reading time avg)

…

You checked your watch once, twice, then three times within a mere five minutes.

The sterile office, with its minimalist decor and muted lighting, seemed to magnify your impatience. Your eyes wandered to the vacant chair opposite you, and you sighed deeply.

Trent Alexander-Arnold was now fifteen minutes late for his first appointment.

“Not the best start,” you muttered under your breath.

Jotting a quick note on a pink Post-it to purchase a digital clock for your desk, you flipped the pen and clicked it shut, placing it down with a resigned finality. The email that landed in your inbox felt almost comically timed. It was from Lee, wishing you luck on your first official day.

You’d been in and out of the training center for the past week, organising your office, which had previously served as a spare room, often only used for the odd meetings.

Boxy and unfamiliar, it was a space you intended to transform into something warmer and more inviting with time. But any attempt to distract yourself proved futile; even the mental image of your office becoming a cozy haven couldn’t quell the unrest you felt inside.

Trent’s absence was more than a minor inconvenience; it felt like a deliberate message. After what Lee had disclosed about his rather aloof attitude, you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised.

Locking your office behind you, you ventured into the heart of the training facility. As you passed by groups of players and staff, your shoulders tensed imperceptibly. You adjusted your pace, trying to find a balance between caution and confidence.

Every corner turned, every nod exchanged with passing colleagues, felt like a small test of acceptance. Your mind raced with thoughts of proving yourself here. While a flicker of self-doubt danced across your features, you masked it beneath a veneer of professional composure.

You eventually found Trent tucked away in the far corner of a sparsely populated gym. A few exchanged ‘good mornings’ and ‘hellos’ momentarily eased your stress, but your tension returned as your gaze settled again on the man who had been purposefully late.

With a deep breath, you started heading towards him, weaving your way through the labyrinth of gym equipment.

You skirted around the treadmills, their rhythmic thudding echoing your own anxious heartbeat. Passing by the clanking weights, you dodged a few stray dumbbells left on the floor. The aroma of rubber mats and iron filled the air.

Finally, you rounded the weightlifting machines and found Trent on a mat, engrossed in his exercises. His headphones were still firmly in place, and his expression remained inscrutably focused, as though he was blocking out the world around him.

When you finally reached him, you hesitated, wanting to wait until he finished his set so as not to disturb his workout.

However, Trent spotted your reflection in the mirror in front of him as he came up. He stopped mid-crunch, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked down, knowing exactly what this would be in regard of. He’d seen you around the training grounds enough to be familiar.

His elbows rested on his knees as his arms folded inward. He exhaled deeply, trying to regulate his breathing.

He wiped the tip of his nose with the pad of his thumb, then pulled his headphones off and let them rest around his neck.

“What?” He looked at you with mild irritation, craning his neck to see you standing just a few steps behind him.

Your lips pressed together in a courteous and tight-lipped smile.

“Hi, Trent. I’m Y/N, the new psychologist. We had an appointment scheduled for twenty minutes ago.”

Turning back to face the mirror, he stretched his arms out in front of him before reaching for a hand towel to wipe the sweat from his brow and neck.

Then he shrugged, his indifference palpable.

“Yeah, I know.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his response as you studied his expression in the mirror. His face shifted subtly, but the changes were too fleeting to decipher.

“Then why didn’t you show up?” you asked, your tone calm but firm.

"I don't see the point," he responded flatly.

In one fluid motion, he planted one palm firmly on the ground before twisting his torso and hoisting himself up with a push, turning to face you as he rose gracefully to his feet.

Your eyes locked inevitably, the proximity of his body left you no choice but to gaze up at his face, your chin tilting ever so slightly upward.

Beads of sweat glistened from his forehead, and his mouth was slightly parted as he scrutinised you from head to toe. A scoff escaped him before he turned away, sliding off some weight plates and placing them methodically beside his mat.

"I don’t need some shrink telling me how to play football," he asserted dismissively, the hints of his accent colouring his defiant tone.

You took a moment to consider your response, your gaze tracing the broad shape of his shoulders. Despite the urge to react defensively, you couldn’t shake the awareness that someone might be listening in from behind you.

You cautiously approached him, aware of the tension hanging in the air, his eyes flicking to your reflection in the mirror.

"I'm not here to tell you how to play football," you began calmly, letting the weight of your words settle between you. "I'm here to help you navigate everything off the pitch that might impact your performance on it."

"Well, thanks, but no thanks," Trent said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've managed fine so far."

“Have you?” you questioned, quickly scanning the room for any prying ears, relieved to find everyone engrossed in their own routines.

Trent rose up, clutching a 15-pound weight plate between his hands.

"Because from where I stand, the club thinks you could use some support. And honestly, there's no shame in that." That was a saying your professors had instilled in you from day one.

Trent's jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might ignore you. Instead, he pivoted to face you once more, his presence suddenly palpable.

"Look, I get that you're just doing your job, yeah? But don't expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else's schedule." He emphasised.

You blinked, but maintained eye contact, refusing to back down. "Fair enough. But I'm not going anywhere, Trent. Whether you like it or not, I'll keep trying to reach you."

He studied you for a moment, then shook his head slightly, leaning in just a bit closer.

"Good luck with that, psychologist."

…

"I think that's our time wrapped up, thank you so much, Conor." You hoisted yourself up with the armrests of your chair and gave a warm smile to the man opposite you.

"Yeah, no worries. I'll see you around." Conor said as he turned, rounding the chair he was just sitting on, giving you a final nod and smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.

You waited until it clicked shut before you sinked into your chair again. Your work was deeply important to you, one of few things in life you were immensely passionate about, but man, it took its toll on longer days.

You rubbed your temples in a poor attempt to alleviate the dull ache that had formed from hours of conversation. As you tried to gather your thoughts, the interruption in the form of a new email snapped you back to reality.

It was from Lee, asking you to come and see him when you were free.

Your head rolled back for a brief moment of respite. Trent had been on your mind ever since your confrontation earlier, lingering in the back of your thoughts throughout the day, despite the overall improvement as the hours ticked by.

Resigning yourself to more work, you pushed yourself up with a temporary surge of motivation. Straightening your blouse and combing your hair with your fingers, you headed towards Lee's office across the hall.

The door stood ajar, a silver name plaque bearing his name neatly affixed. Lee's office exuded an air of scholarly authority, with shelves lined with books, framed certificates adorning the walls, and strategically placed pieces of Liverpool memorabilia.

He glanced up from his desk as you knocked on the doorframe.

"You asked to see me?" you inquired, your head tilting slightly as he closed the folder he was reading, sliding it into the filing cabinet behind him.

"Yes, come in," Lee replied, gesturing toward the chair positioned across from him.

You smoothed down your skirt as you settled into the chair, intertwining your hands on your lap.

His demeanor exuded encouragement, warmth evident in the gentle lines of his smile. As he gathered his thoughts, your eyes fell upon a framed picture on his desk. Lee stood on the far left, flanked by several players including Trent and Curtis, their bright smiles frozen in time.

Your own smile deepened at the sight, noting how much younger they all appeared in the photograph. But as today's events replayed in your mind, your gaze momentarily lowered before returning to meet Lee's.

"A few years ago, that one," he pointed briskly at the photo, though he didn't give you time to respond before changing the topic - a relief, in your opinion.

"So," Lee clasped his hands together, "first official day? How'd it go?"

Pushing back thoughts of Trent deliberately, today had gone rather well.

"Good, honestly. Wataru and Conor were a little shy at first, but I think I was able to break through by the end of our sessions. Curtis was quite bubbly and a joy to talk to. We had some positive discussions too." You truthfully answered, giving a polite smile to round off your answer.

He nodded, impressed. Without a word, he turned to squint at his computer screen, his glasses perched atop his head. "And Trent?"

You cleared your throat, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip nervously. After a moment's hesitation, you shook your head once before answering.

"Trent didn't show up." You admitted with a wry smile. "I found him in the gym and brought it up but I wouldn't say that was a positive discussion."

Lee chuckled softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that belied his words. "Trent’s a tough nut. He’s got a lot on his shoulders and doesn't easily trust new people. But that's why you're here."

You nodded resolutely. "Absolutely. I don't intend on letting up."

"If you want me to step in-" He began but you shook your head again, halting him in the middle of his sentence.

"I respectfully don't think that's going to help. He's not exactly trusting of me right now, and I'm worried about the impression you stepping in might leave. I'm fortunate he's at least talking to me and sharing his feelings." You said with a measured tone, your words careful and tinged with a hint of apprehension.

"Well, you're the pro," you smiled at his joke, exhaling a sigh.

"I'm relying on your guidance, Lee. I can only hope he'll start working with me."

Lee nodded thoughtfully. "Trent respects effort and authenticity. He's introverted, sure, but once he's comfortable, he's a lovely lad."

"I'm sure," you blinked, fiddling nervously with your fingers.

Once he's comfortable.

That shouldn't take too long, you lied to yourself.

...

Part 2

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

[tiramisuucakeee]

A VERY BAD REP, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN ★

( 420! reader x playboy! heeseung )

IN WHICH : at an exclusive private school in the city, where rich kids thought they ruled the place, heeseung finds out the girl who cheated off of him on an exam and could probably get him expelled, has an even worse reputation than him, and she doesn’t seem to care about what he thinks or says.

WARNINGS: drugs, sexual content. +18.

BTW: tried my best to represent my king fanon suna rintaro in y/n. i haven’t smoked in so long….. it’s been 30 years (2 weeks)….. i’m starting to forget the feeling (girl got sober) ….. ok so basically i dramatized everything cause it’s a fanfic okay, don’t think i take all the stuff i wrote pls and ew i wil never ever write smth like this again, i’m a fluff writer TT

WC: i aint counting allat

read more !

they say opposites attract, even in love, and for him, it’s always been true. he’s into quiet, delicate girls, the type who never speak up and just go with the flow. but no matter how sweet they are, heeseung drops them without a second thought, like they’re nothing more than a momentary distraction after getting what he wants from them. so how did he end up in a situation where it was him doing the chasing? he never really thought he'd have to, ever.

it was almost funny, laughable even. he, of all people, accused of copying on an exam? and now facing the possibility of being expelled if he didn’t find a way to make it right? it was the kind of mess he never imagined getting into.

yes, he was a player and toyed with girls’ feelings for his own benefit, but that was it, he would never dare to stain his behavior record and affect his reputation with the school. he knew his family would kill him if he did, they were the type to always put on a face for others and everyone thought they were this perfect little rich family of three, that went on the most expensive trips and could buy anyone and anything.

he could still remember the teacher’s harsh words blaming him for this. ‘miss y/n has an impeccable record of approved grades in my subject, while you, mister heeseung, barely scrape by. and in this exam, it’s your first grade above a 90. you both share the same exact answers, the same solutions. that leaves me to think you copied off her. i suggest you stop denying it and accept the punishment of suspension. if not, i’ll have no choice but to speak to the principal about expelling you from this school. and your father won’t be able to save you from this one again with donations.’

heeseung slammed his locker shut with a fury, the sound echoing down the empty hallway as the final bell rang. his mind raced, thoughts spiraling. what was he going to tell his family if he actually got expelled? his family reputation couldn’t fix this. the idea was unthinkable, impossible. he wasn’t about to let something he didn’t do ruin everything. he wouldn’t accept it. not without a fight.

he’d stolen the cheat sheet, that much was true. but copying off another student? he would never do that. he had his pride, after all. the problem was, he had no idea how you’d ended up with that paper. how did you get your hands on it? and why the hell had you not even thought about changing one single answer to be slick? his mind was racing, but he wasn’t about to let anyone think he was that stupid.

heeseung had never even bothered to look your way since you got to the school a year and a half ago in your leather jacket and sunglasses. your parents knew each other but you weren’t the type of person he’d ever hang out with. he did know about a guy having a fling with you, and honestly, it almost drove him insane. word has gotten out you had almost driven him to the point of seeking professional help to be sane. but that wasn’t even the worst thing said about you. even with your father’s reputation and money, you weren’t safe from being on people’s mouths as the daughter he never wanted.

what made everything even more difficult was that he had no idea how to make you admit it was you. he didn’t have your number, didn’t know anything about your schedule except for the one class you both shared. confronting you in person seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. he couldn’t risk you turning the whole thing around, making him look like the bad guy while you played the victim. it would be just his luck.

he had never felt so completely taken advantage of. it was always him who used people, who knew how to manipulate them into giving him exactly what he wanted. yet here he was, losing his mind over a girl he’d never even spoken to. it was ridiculous, and it pissed him off.

as the next day rolled around, he was still consumed by it. before the first period, he stood by the stone lion statue on the entrance of school, leaning against the wall next to jake and sunghoon, waiting for karina and wonyoung, as they mindlessly talked about a new prada backpack sunghoon bought yesterday. but heeseung’s mind kept drifting back to the mess with you, he tried to push it aside, focusing on the usual routine. still, the more he tried to forget, the more it nagged at him.

just as he was about to ask jake about you, since he always seemed to know everything about everyone, he stopped himself. no way was he going to ask his friend for help and look uncapable of solving things. he needed to figure this out on his own. instead, he turned his thoughts to how he could find you before the shared calculus class at the end of the day. he had to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

"heeseung!" a cheery voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts. he looked up to see karina dragging wonyoung along, both of them heading toward him, their little red-bottom heels clicking against the pavement. karina flashed him a big, playful smile and waved enthusiastically, her energy cutting through the tension that had been building all morning.

“damn it, it’s too early in the morning for this,” heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes as they approached. jake, who had been watching the whole scene with a smirk, nudged him in the ribs. “that girlfriend of yours, man,” he teased. heeseung just shot him a glare, clearly not amused.

the two girls made their way toward them, but just as they were about to reach the group, a loud, roaring engine cut through the morning air. before anyone could react, a sleek motorcycle zoomed in, blocking their path. the rider revved the engine once more, making it clear they weren’t going anywhere until they dealt with them.

"woah, what’s goin on?" sunghoon asked, clearly impressed by the person who had the guts to stop karina and wonyoung in their tracks. he wasn’t the only one taken aback. everyone was staring as the motorcycle came to a halt. little did they know, the rider was someone heeseung had been obsessing over all morning, someone who could probably ruin both karina and wonyoung’s face with just one single punch. the tension in the air shifted instantly, and heeseung felt his heart race, but not for his girlfriend’s safety, instead, for the person who rolled around.

the motorcycle she was riding was imposing, big, dark, and matte, with electric blue accents. the kind of bike that screamed power and danger. it looked like something straight out of a movie, designed to intimidate, just like its rider. there was a certain energy about her, something that made everyone around tense up instinctively. she didn’t need to say a word to command attention. her presence alone was enough to make even the most confident shrink back.

but they still stepped closer, followed by a crowd of other students who knew exactly who was under the helmet. everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

you pulled off the black helmet, letting your hair tumble out as the cold morning air hit your face, sharpening the already obvious irritation in your expression. there was an undeniable edge to your aura, something fierce and untouchable, like you thrived on chaos and didn’t care who knew it. the way you stood, calm but dangerous, with an almost predatory confidence, made it clear you weren’t here to play nice. karina glanced around, clearly uncomfortable in the middle of a confrontation she’d rather avoid, but she couldn’t deny what she had just done, not going unnoticed by you.

not letting her get the first word, you swung off your motorcycle, your movements sharp and deliberate. "you bitch, are you insane?" you shot at her, pointing a finger directly in her face. the students around you quickly scrambled, eager to capture what might turn into a full-blown fight. for the students watching, it was like something straight out of a teen movie. the popular ‘it girl’ of the school facing off against the infamous ‘bad girl’. a label you despised even more than the people who threw it around. the rich kids were convinced you were a bad person just because you got high 8 out of the 7 days of the week, dressed in black and liked to waste your money getting inked.

"what are you talking about?!" karina stammered, stumbling back as she grabbed wonyoung’s hand, who seemed ready to shrink behind her in panic. they both looked like dolls, dressed in couture clothing and expensive hair accessories.

you scoffed, the memory of what happened earlier still fresh. "don't play dumb with me," you shot back, eyes narrowing. "you're the one who threw food on the road to school from your little convertible. god, are you even intelligent enough to drive?!” karina’s face flushed with embarrassment, not thinking you would actually confront her like this, and for a moment, she looked like she might deny it. but instead, she opened her mouth. "well, i guess i should have thrown it at you then, instead of the road, since you always like to be dirty, don’t you?” she laughed, looking down at your worn out shoes, which were sluthered with mud.

"dirty?" you cut her off with a bitter laugh. "you want to talk about dirty?" your voice dripped with sarcasm. "i’m not the one with half of the school’s dicks down my throat, while embarrassing myself chasing a guy who, the only thing he likes about me is fucking, because it’s the only time i will stop being annoying, how ‘bout that?”

“well, it’s a shame that you don’t have a face pretty enough to even attract a normal guy’s attention. i have seen you hanging around with those shaggy and dirty stoner animals from your old school you call men, having sex in the middle of an alley, all high and out of their minds, huh,” she insisted, pointing at you up and down.

“you’re so full of shit karina, and it’s sad. as if you’d ever find someone that actually likes you, to listen to you talk for more than ten minutes.” you threw her a pitiful look. the students around you shifted uncomfortably, some of them glancing at each other as the tension in the air grew thicker. wonyoung, still holding onto karina’s hand, looked like she was about to step in, but karina pulled her back. “i don’t care what you think, i’m rich, i’ve got tons of friends and i’m pretty, and you have always been jealous of me, just what is your problem?”

you stepped closer, your gaze never leaving hers. “like i care about your dad’s money wash karina, don’t get too carried away, it takes more than money to make someone feel less than you,” you smirked, looking at her up and down. you stepped dangerously closer quickly, making her stumble back once again and shriek, gripping onto wonyoung’s arm even stronger.

“but it will pay your facial reconstruction bill if you keep fucking with me, got it?” you said quietly, but with a force that made the words hit harder than anything else. before she could snap back, wonyoung pulled at her sleeve, whispering something in her ear. karina hesitated, then exhaled a long breath. she wasn’t stupid, karina has seen what ‘kinds of people’ you hang out with, and how bad the other person gets out of a fight with you, she was always quick to insult you, but never to continue fully.

"okay, fine. you want to clean your little tricycle?" karina said, trying to act nonchalant, taking out a huge bill from her purse. "here, i don’t care, just go back to where you came from." you took the bill karina handed out harshly, splitting it in right in the middle, making her gasp, and look at the money falling on the ground, feeling totally humiliated.

not saying anything else, you turned back and mounted the motorcycle again, revving it in a way for the students around to step back, and open way for you to continue your morning, not daring to get in your way. you sped off, the roar of your bike fading into the distance of the parking lot. the boys lingered for a moment before finally making their way over to karina and wonyoung, concern written all over their faces. "you girls alright?" sunghoon asked, glancing at both of them.

karina shot him a frustrated look, her arms still crossed defensively. "yeah, whatever. i'm fine," she muttered, though her voice was tight. wonyoung stayed quiet, looking more shaken than usual, as if still processing the encounter.

the boys exchanged a few more words of reassurance, but heeseung barely heard them. his mind was miles away, consumed by the memory of you. your sharp words, your defiant stance, the way you’d made it clear you weren’t to be messed with. he couldn’t shake the image of you. he couldn’t let it go. not now. heeseung was used to being in control, used to getting what he wanted without a second thought. but you, you were different. there was something about you that made him want to find out more, something about the way you handled the whole situation that had him itching to confront you, face-to-face, but he knew he couldn’t, not unless he wanted to hear karina yell at him nonstop in a fit of jealousy.

"you good, man?" jake's voice broke through his thoughts, and heeseung looked up, blinking. "yeah," he said, trying to shake off the feeling. but deep down, he knew he wasn’t really fine.

as the day went on and classes shifted, lunch break came to an end, and before long, it was time for the dreaded calculus class. you sauntered to your seat at the back of the classroom, right by the window, and dropped into the chair. with a bored sigh, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through it without a care, eyes barely glancing up. it was weird seeing you stick around this long on a school day. usually, you’d slip out early or roll in late, and no one ever said a word. you never had too many absences, always acing every exam. and for that reason, the teachers didn’t question it, because you had this way of making it look effortless, like the rules didn’t even apply to you.

as the class dragged on, something landed softly on your desk, just a small note. you glanced over and saw the girl next to you, the one with the big round glasses, her eyes wide with nervous energy. the second you looked her way, she flinched, shrinking back into her seat. she quickly pointed to the guy sitting next to her, her face practically pleading for you to read whatever nonsense he’d scribbled.

you gave him a weird look, your brow raised in silent confusion, before you slowly unfolded the note, your fingers moving deliberately as if you had all the time in the world. it read, ‘what do you think you’re doing? why did you copy off of me on the exam?’

you snorted at the message, and instantly, the memory hit you. it was the first time you’d let yourself go, forgetting about grades, staying way too long at some random house drugging yourself with something new, until blackout, two days away from home in your ride. you hadn’t made it back in time to study, so you did what you had to do. you texted a contact at school to get you the test. lucky for you, he knew someone in your class who had managed to steal the cheat sheet, and just like that, you had it in your hands.

‘none of your business’ you wrote back, your fingers moving quickly as you folded the note and slid it over to the girl. she hesitated for a second, then took it from you, passing it to him discreetly like it was some kind of underground deal.

a few moments later, the note came back to you. you unfolded it, and your eyes scanned the words. ‘you have to admit you cheated off of me, i’m risking expulsion.’ as if you actually gave a damn about his risk. you shot him a cold glance, then made a subtle motion with your hand, signaling for him to follow you out of the classroom, while you carried your belongings, not planning on returning.

after a few seconds, he finally slipped out of the classroom, meeting you in the empty hallway. "hey, so i really need you to admit you cheated off of me, i could get suspended, even expelled, and i'm not willing to take that kind of punishment for you," he started, his voice full of desperation. but you didn’t let him finish. you raised a hand, cutting him off, and his words trailed off as he stood there, waiting for you to say something.

"i’m sorry, who even are you?" you asked, shaking your head, genuinely confused. "i’m still trying to figure out why you think i’d ever admit to cheating on a test for you." your voice was casual, like the whole situation didn’t even faze you.

"because you did," he said, his tone dripping with self-righteousness. "it’s the right thing to do. you need to get suspended for cheating off of me." he smirked, as if he was the one holding all the power now. "and if you don’t, i’ll just tell them i caught you fucking someone in the bathroom for the test answers or something. you wouldn’t want that, would you?" that made you laugh.

"okay, listen, mr. whoever-you-are," you said, raising an eyebrow, "i’m not doing shit for you. after all, it’s my word against yours, which i’m guessing doesn’t mean much, considering you're the one getting blamed for cheating." you leaned in, a smirk playing at your lips. "and as for the fucking thing? i’ve been caught plenty before. the worst they’ll do is throw me in detention. so go ahead, do as you please." you poked his shoulder, the gesture almost mocking. he stood there for a second, his smile fading as he processed what you'd said. you could tell he wasn't used to being called out like that, or having the cards reversed, but then he leaned in, his voice lowering, like he was trying to pull some kind of play.

"you know," he said, his tone smooth, "a pretty girl like you... you don't really want to be known as the one who got away with cheating. people would start talking, saying you’re not enough for a school like this, wouldn't they?" he stepped closer, his eyes scanning you like he was sizing you up, "but hey, i get it. you don't want to get caught up in more drama. maybe i can help with that... if you just admit it was you."

this couldn’t be happening, you just wondered how in the world did this guy not know of your reputation, he was embarrassing himself so much at the moment. no boys in school got near you for that exact same reason, and here he was, thinking he could word his way into manipulating you, as if you didn’t know how to play your own game. you were known for being this maniatic crazy bitch with a motorcycle, who hang out with ‘lowlifes’, knew how to fight and that was only useful to get drugs from, also probably slept around with teachers because they didn’t think you’re smart enough to study. you’ve been told so many things, that what he said didn’t even bother you.

you rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. "oh, so now you're trying to play the good guy card?" you laughed dryly, leaning against the lockers. "nice try, but i'm not some stupid girl you can sweet-talk into doing something."

he chuckled, clearly not giving up. "come on, baby," he said, his voice turning smooth and almost coaxing, "we both know you like the thrill of a little risk. how about we make a nice deal, you admit it was you, and maybe we... hang out sometime. you know, just us. could be fun."

you raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes again. "wow, really? you are so considerate of me, but no, i don’t want your reduce reuse recycled dick, i'm not interested."

he stepped closer again, trying to intimidate you, but you weren't moved. you just pushed him back with a lazy finger, eyes never leaving his. "you clearly don’t know what you’re doing, or even how to talk to me," you said, voice dripping with mockery. "i'm not impressed. i’ve seen your type a hundred times. and it's honestly fucking pathetic."

he frowned, his jaw tightening, but you didn't care. you weren't here for his tantrums. "seriously, you think this is gonna work on me?" you continued, your voice low and sharp. "you're the one who's gonna look stupid if you keep pushing this. i'm not gonna admit. and if you keep threatening me, we can always settle this another way, i’m sure you know how to fight with those big boy muscles right?" you squeezed his arm, making heeseung shudder, almost feeling a tingle.

you turned to leave, tossing him a final glance over your shoulder. "good luck, though," you added, your voice flat. "i'm sure your suspension month will be really fun." you tossed over your shoulder, voice dripping with sarcasm. "but don't worry, you probably already have a few girls your way to help you feel validated and accompanied."

heeseung just stood there, watching you leave and soon disappear onto another hallway, probably escaping classes. but that did not worry him, we couldn’t let himself worry over a girl like you. you would clearly never fall for his words. guys like heeseung, we’re almost like easy prey for you. too weak and easy, thinking they dominated the whole world, fucking around with girls, throwing massive parties and golfing every sunday with their dad. when in reality they probably didn’t know how to unclog a toilet.

they pissed you off so much, he pissed you off, and now your day was ruined. so almost two hours later, you found yourself on a complete different town to the south, entering an worn out house, kicking the door open. the house brought back many memories, too many. from when you lived here, and not back with your father, in a place you didn’t belong.

"who's here?" a slurred voice called from the kitchen, barely cutting through the thumping music. the place reeked of stale smoke and something sharper, like bleach or chemicals. dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the clutter, casting long shadows over cracked furniture and empty beer cans. scattered on the floor were people, sprawled in various stages of oblivion, some twitching, others motionless, all trapped in their own haze. the walls, stained and peeling, seemed to pulse with the low vibrations of the bass, as if the house itself was barely holding it all together. the house which was previously your mother’s, was now just a usual abandoned place that your friends utilized to hang out in.

"damn, this place is a mess. why didn't you wait for me?" you muttered, stepping into the kitchen. your friends were slouched around a grimy breakfast table, barely looking up as one of them finished snorting white lines off the edge. the counter was littered with crumpled pink blunt wrappers.

"yo! gigi, stop the music!" yeonjun shouted, sniffling as he shot up from his seat, stumbling a bit before he lurched forward to hug you. he almost tripped over his own mismatched-socks covered feet, but when he finally reached you, he inhaled deeply, as if your scent, clean and free of any substances, was a breath of fresh air in the chaos of the room. his grip tightened for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mix of relief.

"i’m not your bitch," giselle muttered, rolling her red-ish eyes as she leaned over to turn down the blaring music. her long acrylic nails clicked sharply against the plastic radio, the sound cutting through the tension in the room. she barely looked at yeonjun as she did it, her expression more annoyed than anything else.

you laughed at her comment, shaking your head, and then moved to hug her, pushing yeonjun off you in the process. he stumbled back, slightly irritated but too dazed to really react, while giselle’s stiff posture softened just a little as you wrapped your arms around her. her eyes flickered with something close to annoyance, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. you pulled away from giselle, giving her a teasing look. "so, what's the plan for tonight?" you asked, shifting your attention to the other strangers in the room, as they lazily got back to their own little worlds. yeonjun was still rubbing his nose, barely paying attention, while giselle just shrugged, taking a drag from her cigarette before flicking it into an ashtray.

“we’re hitting that party in the hill later,” she said, her voice flat but laced with anticipation. "gonna get crossfaded, maybe do a little more. jay’s been asking about you non-stop, by the way." she giggled. you raised an eyebrow at that, crossing your arms. "jay?" you repeated, a little surprised. you didn't think he’d be the type to obsess over anything, let alone you. "what does he want with me?"

she leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eye. "he’s obsessed you and your dumb tattoos. that night you two spent together? yeah, he can’t stop talking about it.” she paused, letting the words hang in the air like a secret. “guess he’s got a thing for you.”

you snorted, leaning against the counter, trying not to let it bother you too much. it was funny, people you’ve slept with always seemed to fixate on your exterior. but jay? he was a different story. you didn’t really care about whatever weird little crush he might have, though. he was now from a different crowd, and would never cross that line to be with you.

“he does know i changed schools right?” you said. your new school was a whole different world, elite, private, a playground for the wealthy and connected. kids with silver spoons, flashy cars, and tailored suits. a lot of them were insufferable, like karina, but you didn’t mind. it was easy to stand out, to be yourself in a place where most people just followed the rules. since your mother disappeared and your dad took you back, you’ve been placed in a world you don’t belong, and clearly don’t mind not belonging.

they had their porsche, you had your r7. they had private security, and you had your little hello kitty knife. but here, with giselle and the others? it was different. a lot more laid-back, the students knew how to have fun without all the airs and graces of your new world. they were down to earth, fun, and honest, none of the pretentious bullshit that came with being surrounded by rich kids. they had their flaws, sure, but you loved hanging out with them. it was like coming back home after a long trip to a hotel casino, where everyone was more concerned with status than actually living.

giselle noticed the shift in your mood and grinned, as if reading your thoughts. "i know, i know," she said, her voice softened, almost sympathetic. "but, hey, you're still cool with us. we don’t care about your new rich kid school. we’re just down for a good time."

"yeah, alright. i’m down. just don’t expect me to get too crazy, my dad’s expecting me before five am, he knows how shit goes here,” you let out a quiet sigh, glancing over at yeonjun who was now half-focused on his phone, tapping away furiously with his thumb. "so, i’m guessing you’ve already got the stuff lined up for tonight?" you asked, a smirk tugging at your lips.

he looked up at you, still slightly dazed, and nodded. "yeah, i texted my guy next door. he’s got everything we need. should be ready by the time we leave."

“don’t worry, i’ll go,” you didn’t need to ask twice. despite your better judgment, you were already used to this kind of thing. you pushed off the counter, giving giselle a nod. "i’ll be back in a minute, you both stop inhaling shit and try to sober up, i’m not a babysitter," you said casually, already walking toward the door.

"take your time, don't get too caught tho," she called after you, voice almost playful, but with that edge of concern. the door slammed shut behind you, and you stepped out into the cold evening air. it wasn’t far, the dealer’s place was literally next door, tucked behind a run-down convenience store that no one seemed to go into.

the door to the small house was already cracked open when you arrived. you knocked lightly, stepping back to make sure no one would spot you. a moment later, a guy with messy hair and a hoodie poked his head out, his eyes scanning you quickly before he motioned for you to come in. "yo, what’s up?" he greeted, his tone laid-back but sharp, like he had done this a thousand times before

“yeonjun sent me," you said, slipping inside. you didn’t need to say much, his face lit up as soon as you mentioned the name. yeonjun was a regular here, always popping in for one thing or another. the guy didn’t ask too many questions, which was fine by you. "right, right," he said, disappearing into a cluttered room at the back. you heard the rustle of plastic, the clink of glass. he returned with some small bags of pills in his hand, sliding them across the counter. "this should be good for the night. tell yeonjun he owes me. i threw a little present in there for you, pretty."

you nodded with a smile, taking the bag, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic. it was always the same, but you still hated the feeling of this whole transaction, sketchy, rushed. "thanks," you muttered, seeing a little extra, and slipping the bags into your jacket pocket before heading back toward the door.

"catch you later," he called after you, and you didn’t bother to respond.

as you headed back toward the house, the night started to feel more like a blur of its own, the sun setting into a canvas of dark and light colors.

when you pushed the door open again, giselle was already eyeing you, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. "got it?" she asked, and you gave a quick nod. "yeah, we’re good to go," you said, tossing the bags onto the table where yeonjun had plopped back down. he gave you a lazy thumbs up.

the party was exactly what you’d expect from a house like this, small, run-down, but buzzing with an energy that could only come from a group of teenagers living for the night. the kind of place where people got high, drunk, and fucked without any care in the world. the walls were covered in posters and graffiti, the floors littered with empty bottles and crumpled cans. music thudded through cheap speakers, competing with the chaotic chatter and the occasional shout of someone daring someone else to do something ridiculous or threatening to start a fight.

when you, yeonjun, and giselle arrived, the front door was wide open. keeho was standing there, practically bouncing with excitement, already tipsy from whatever he’d been drinking. his hair was an absolute mess, eyes slanted and tired-looking, and he had lipstick stains all over his neck, but his grin was infectious as he waved you over.

“yo, rich girl! you made it!” he exclaimed, his voice a little slurred, and he pulled you all in for a quick, sloppy hug. "was starting to think you forgot about me, we gotta get you three started!" without missing a beat, keeho grabbed a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka from the floor and shoved it into your hands, urging you to take a swing. his laugh was loud and carefree, and it felt like you were already swept into the madness. you hesitated for a second, but then shrugged and tipped the bottle back. the burn of the alcohol hit the back of your throat, sharp and bitter, but it didn’t matter.

giselle grinned and knocked back her own drink, wiping her mouth as she handed the bottle to yeonjun, who eagerly took a swig, his eyes already glazed over. keeho’s grin only widened, as if he had orchestrated some kind of victory. “hell yeah, let’s go!”

you all pushed past him into the house, the noise of the party almost overwhelming at first. in the main room, there were already people sprawled on couches, a couple of them making out in the corner, while others lounged around in various states of intoxication. the air was thick with the scent of weed and sex. “okay, so, knowing you yeonjun, hotboxing only in the basement bathroom, i don’t want to repeat what happened last month in my room,” keeho turned to your group with a serious face all of a sudden. yeonjun rolled his eyes and started arguing, and giselle joined in, making you leave the scene relentlessly.

as you wandered further into the house, you spotted jay almost immediately. he was leaning against the wall, a drink in his hand, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. the second he saw you, his entire demeanor changed, his gaze locked onto you with a sharp intensity, like you were the only person in the room. you couldn’t help but notice it. there was something almost obsessive in the way he watched you, his lips curling into a small but knowing smile. you weren’t sure if he was just drunk or if it was something more, but you knew he wasn’t just here for a good time. he was here for you.

“hey,” jay said as you approached, his voice low and a little too eager, like he was trying to hide just how much he wanted to pull you into his orbit. “glad you showed up. i wasn’t sure if you would.”

you raised an eyebrow and took the drink from him, taking a sip, already sensing the weird energy from him. "you act like i'm some kind of mystery," you said, your tone light, but there was a hint of warning in your voice.

jay just laughed, though it sounded a little nervous. he shifted, trying to get closer, but you didn’t exactly encourage it. "no, no. i mean, i was hoping you’d show up," he said, clearly not even noticing how desperate he sounded. "i don’t know. i just... i couldn’t stop thinking about you." his words hung there in the air for a moment, too heavy for what was supposed to be a casual conversation. you glanced away, trying to shake the awkwardness of it. he was just supposed to be a random hook up, and now he was obsessed.

"yeah, i’m too sober for this, i need a minute," you cut him off, shrugging his hand away, your tone sharper than you intended. the last thing you wanted right now was another round of jay following you around again. you managed to slip into the bathroom, the noise of the party muffled behind you. the moment the door clicked shut, you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the door for a second, trying to shake off the weight of jay’s attention.

reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone, hoping for a distraction. you had been waiting on a text from your motorcycle repair center all night, hoping they'd finally gotten back to you about the part you needed. just as you started scrolling through your messages, trying to ignore the distant thumping of bass and the muffled laughter from outside, you heard the bathroom door creak open behind you. before you could even turn around, you felt a hard bump against your shoulder, someone colliding with you unexpectedly.

"hey!" the voice was sharp, and the tone was ready to unleash a curse. but then, the voice shifted, a more amused, almost playful note creeping in. "wait, hold up, you're cute."

you blinked, turning to face the girl who had crashed into you. she was standing there, eyes still wide with what could’ve been irritation, but her lips were curled into a smirk now. she looked like she was about to say something more, but the words faltered when she took another quick look at you. she was a couple of inches shorter than you, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, with eyeliner that looked like it had been hastily done, smudging a little at the edges. she wore a worn-out band tee, black jeans, and had that 'i don’t care' attitude.

you raised an eyebrow, still holding your phone, but not making any immediate movement. "thanks," you said dryly, not sure if she was being sarcastic or genuine. “ryujin,” she continued, “and you are?”

“y/n, y/n l/n,” you introduced yourself, almost sounding too righteous.

“you good y/n?” she asked, her voice almost too soft, the kind of softness that could break you without a word. “fuck no, i lost my friends and i need to get high right now,” you laughed, running your hand through your hair.

“oh really?” before you could respond, ryujin was already in front of you, close enough that you could smell the alcohol on her breath, feel the heat radiating off her body. “i can help with that,” she whispered, and there was something about the way she said it that made your pulse spike. she was clearly offering something more than simple. she was offering you something you hadn’t tried before.

she reached into her pocket, pulling out something small, a needle. you froze, your chest tightening, but the pull was still there. you weren’t thinking. you were just so desperate, it would happen again, you would take something from a random hot person. the needle gleamed in her hand, sharp and cold under the dim lighting. you didn’t need to ask what it was, she didn’t need to explain. you could already feel it, the ache of wanting something to take you somewhere else, to make this noise in your head stop. you were sick of it.

her eyes flicked to yours, dark and knowing, like she could see straight through you. "you sure?" she asked, but there was no question in her voice. it was more like a dare. your breath hitched, your heartbeat louder than the music. you looked at her, and for a split second, everything felt still. her eyes held you captive, like she was waiting for you to decide whether to break or not. and then, without saying anything, you nodded.

she didn’t hesitate. one swift motion, and the needle was at your arm. the sting was sharp, more real than anything you’d felt. the rush of it hit you instantly. a sudden heat spread through your veins, like fire lacing under your skin. the world around you blurred, the noise fading into the background. you felt something.

it was almost too much to handle, too quick. your body jolted with the rush of it, the sense of floating, of being untethered from everything. and then, before you could even catch your breath, ryujin was kissing you. it was hard, messy, raw. her lips were insistent, pulling you deeper into the chaos, as if she was swallowing every ounce of your pain. it wasn’t gentle, it was desperate. like she wanted to take everything from you and leave you empty, but at the same time, filled.

you kissed her back, caught in the haze, your body responding before your mind could catch up. the high was creeping in fast, too fast, but it felt good. it felt like everything was finally softening, the noise, the pressure, the expectations, all of it was dissolving with every second that passed.

when she finally pulled back, you were breathless. the world was spinning, but in a way that felt almost right, like you weren’t out of control, but floating in some kind of blissful wreckage. “that’s better,” she whispered, her voice low, smoky, and satisfied. “kissing makes you not feel how much this bitch hurts,” she laughed “or so i’ve been told.”

you just stared at her, too buzzed to say anything, but feeling a kind of calm you hadn’t known in what felt like forever. the pain was gone now, swallowed by the buzz, the heat, and the way she looked at you. like you were both on the edge, and neither of you cared whether you fell off. the rush from the needle still pulsed through your veins as you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a bit unmoored, like your body was drifting through space. the party felt louder, the music a distant thump in your chest. everything was hazy, like you were floating, and the crowd around you seemed to blur, their faces indistinct. you were just moving.

without thinking, you found yourself at the center of the living room, where bodies pressed against each other, the air thick with sweat and smoke. you let the beat pull you in, letting go of the last vestiges of control. you didn’t care anymore, about anything, anyone. you just moved, your body responding to the rhythm like it had a life of its own, and for the first time tonight, you felt alive.

you danced with strangers, faces you didn’t recognize, their hands on your hips or shoulders, the energy bouncing between you all like an electric current. their movements were reckless, free, and somehow, it felt like you belonged here, in the middle of this mess. the high made everything feel vivid. intense. like every touch, every glance was magnified.

a guy leaned in close, his breath warm on your neck. you didn’t pull away, letting him get close enough to whisper in your ear. you could barely understand what he was saying, but his hands were on your waist, tugging you closer. you let him, lost in the sensation of being wanted, of not caring what anyone thought. your body was moving like it was made for this chaos. you didn’t think. you just felt.

the music shifted, the bass pumping harder, and for a moment, everything became a blur of neon lights and sweaty bodies, spinning like a dizzying cyclone. you let yourself get swept up in it, lost in the noise and the movement, until you couldn’t keep up anymore. the energy in your legs started to fade, your body heavy and tired. you were buzzing too much to care, but eventually, your feet were no longer dancing, just shuffling you toward the edge of the room.

you stumbled to a couch, sinking into the cushions with a long, relieved sigh. the room around you seemed to shift, the music muffled now, everything distant, like you were underwater. you tried to keep your eyes open, but the pull of exhaustion was too strong. you just couldn’t fight it.

your head sank into the back of the couch, and in a matter of seconds, you were out, completely, utterly gone. the noise of the party continued around you, but you were far away now, floating in the quiet of your mind, somewhere where nothing could touch you. the high, the spinning, the chaos, it all faded to a distant hum. you were weightless, drifting in nothingness, as everything slipped away.

you woke up the next morning to the harsh sound of someone shouting, the words barely making sense at first. “everyone get up and get the hell out!” keeho’s voice rang through the room, piercing the fog of sleep that still clung to you. blinking, you squinted at the blinding light creeping through the window, the ache in your head reminding you of just how much but so little had happened the night before. and you tried to suppress the feeling of vomiting.

you barely had time to process everything when keeho appeared at the door, his eyes wide in sudden panic when he saw you sitting there, a disheveled mess on the couch. “wait... you’re here? yeon and gigi were crazy looking for you last night,” he stammered, clearly flustered. you could tell he hadn’t noticed you before, hadn’t realized you’d passed out here.

“yeah, i think someone gave me dope, ‘m not sure,” you muttered, trying to shake the sleepiness from your mind. “could use some clothes though. i didn’t exactly plan on crashing here and i gotta get my ass to school or my father will actually kill me.”

keeho nodded quickly, his face flushing in embarrassment as he glanced around the room like he didn’t know where to look. “yeah, yeah, no problem. i’ve got some stuff, just go to my room. there’s a drawer with girl clothes from... you know. just grab whatever.” he gestured to the hallway.

you stood up, a little unsteady on your feet, and made your way toward his room. it wasn’t far, but the house felt like a maze now, the remnants of last night’s chaos still hanging in the air. the stale scent of alcohol and smoke clung to everything, and you could hear people stirring, mumbling groggily as they shuffled about, trying to piece together the aftermath of whatever they did.

keeho’s room was a mess too, clothes and half-empty bottles scattered across the floor, papers crumpled on his desk. you spotted the drawer he mentioned and pulled it open. inside, there were a mix of clothes, some definitely not your style.

you pulled out a small crop top, the fabric soft against your skin as you slipped it on. the shirt hugged you in just the right way, but the way it exposed a sliver of your tattoos on your side gave you an odd sense of power. something about the ink on your skin made you feel more present, more you, even in the haze of everything that had gone wrong in the last month, not listening to your brain. you quickly grabbed a pair of athletic shorts from the drawer, the fabric light and comfortable, though they were a bit tight on your hips. it didn’t matter. you weren’t here to impress anyone.

you didn’t know what you were expecting to feel in that moment, but it certainly wasn’t this. it was a weird mix of exhaustion and emptiness, and so thirsty. but at least you weren’t in yesterday’s clothes. stepping out of the room, you took a deep breath, preparing to face the aftermath.

keeho was still in the living room, shouting at people to get out, his tone half-annoyed, half-caring, like he was trying to maintain some level of order in the madness. he saw you and gave you an awkward wave. “yo, you good?” he asked, trying to act casual.

“yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “where’s the exit?”

keeho pointed to the door and went back to yelling at whoever was still sprawled on the couch. you weren’t in the mood for much interaction. just get out. get back to the north. you walked toward the door, weaving through the mess of bodies and vomit. the cool morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, the bright sun already making the world feel like it had reset itself. everything was sharp, clear. the chaos of the night felt distant now, as if you were waking up from a bad dream.

you tried not to think about it as you walked away from the house, the reality of last night still buzzing in your head. you pulled out your phone and called an uber, the cool screen a brief distraction from the foggy mess of your mind. as you waited for it to arrive, you kept thinking about the night. about the haze, the people, the weird feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. you needed to forget it, or at least stop accepting drugs from friendly girls in bathrooms, you had to stick to smoking-only, or your body would end up on the cover of a newspaper with a bad name. you slid into the back of the car when it arrived, the familiar hum of the engine lulling you into a kind of dull trance as you made your way back to the city.

the ride was quiet, a smooth hum of traffic and soft music in the background. it didn’t take long to get back to the luxurious academy, but as you stepped out of the car and walked through the heavily guarded gates, you could feel the eyes on you. people were already filing into the backyard tables for lunch, and you were late, again.

you didn’t care, though. you didn’t care about anything right now. the school was a blur of clean clothes and sharp faces, everyone looking polished and perfect, the exact opposite of how you felt and looked. you ignored the stares, walking past a couple of your classmates who were giving you the side-eye, their whispers barely audible over the din of voices. but you could feel the weight of it. the judgment. the fact that you weren’t exactly like everyone else here, and they knew it.

you made your way to the lunch hall, where your only acquaintance was already sitting, glancing up as you walked in. chaeryeong’s eyes flickered between you and the time. you slid into the seat across from her, barely noticing the food she'd saved for you. you didn’t have the energy for the usual small talk or the smiley faces she always wore.

“are you okay, y/n?” chaeryeong asked softly. you still couldn’t figure out why she stuck around. maybe it was because you’d protected her in some way, kept her safe from karina and her ridiculous mean girl act. chaeryeong was too kind, too good-hearted. she didn’t deserve any of that. you nodded without thinking, just going through the motions. you took a bite of the sandwich, but the food was tasteless, like everything else was. somewhere deep down, you knew you had to get your shit together, but for now, it was easier to keep pretending that everything was fine.

the real reason why you started being even more reckless than before was simple. you missed her. and you hated yourself for it, for missing your mother, the one who abandoned you a year and a half algo. a part of you wanted to believe this was all a plan for you to move in with your rich father and get yourself a place in society, but deep down you knew she found another family with one of the hundreds of men she slept with every night to be able to pay rent. not like you were actually hurt, though. everything you did, every choice you made, was for her. you liked to think she was in a better place now, not living off of selling herself. in your mind, you had to be your best version, just for her. not for that father you have, which was the first one to actually leave, after hearing the news of your mother being pregnant with you. but karma got him, and now he was stuck with you.

he just lets you be, lets you invite your friends over and make a mess. after all, he has maids to clean up after you. but you weren’t about to be that much of a burden, which is why you pushed yourself to excel academically. your mother always said, ‘every single person is a nobody, no matter how rich or poor. the only thing that makes us different is our drive to be better for ourselves.’

you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a little too much force. "i'm going for a smoke," you mutter, barely looking at chaeryeong. before she can say anything and tell you how drugs are ruining you, you’re already heading out of the cafeteria, your steps quick and determined. you make your way to your locker, your fingers fumbling slightly as you pull out a couple of blunts, the familiar smell of them grounding you.

sliding past the neat hallways, you cut through the back of the school, where the gym equipment is stored, away from the eyes of teachers and nosy students. it’s quiet here, the air thick with the scent of rubber and old wood. you light up without hesitation, the first drag hitting your lungs like a small relief. for a moment, it's just you, the world outside fading into the background. you then take a slow hit, the smoke filling your lungs again, and for a second, it feels like everything slows down. you exhale, watching the thin trail of smoke twist and curl in the air before disappearing. the taste is bitter, but it doesn’t matter. it’s the quiet and that’s important right now.

until it wasn’t. from the corner of your eye, you catch movement, footsteps crunching against the gravel. you look up, and there he is, the guy from yesterday. the same cocky grin, the same aura of someone who’s too used to getting what they want. he was dressed in a faux-fur jacket.

“what the hell…” you watched him get closer, his nose slightly scrunching at the smoke coming out your mouth.

"looks like we started on the wrong track," he says, leaning against the chain-link fence with that insufferable smirk still on his face. "name’s heeseung," he adds, like you should be impressed.

you blink, connecting the dots in your head. heeseung. the rich kid. the usual playboy. and then, it clicks, he’s with karina. the thought hits you like a cold splash of water. of course. he’s here because of her. to bribe you, maybe, or to mess with you, make you look bad in front of everyone. you exhale, the smoke swirling between you as you size him up. "what d’ya want?" you ask, your voice flat, not bothering to hide the growing annoyance.

he wrinkles his nose, taking in the air like he’s just stepped into a dumpster. "really smells like shit here, and you look even worse," he says with a disgusted chuckle, glancing around like he’s considering whether or not to leave. you can’t help but laugh, the sound rough but genuine. ‘he really is a piece of work,’ you think, watching his discomfort. without missing a beat, you take another hit, leaning back against the wall as you blow out the smoke. "maybe it's just you," you say with a smirk, your voice teasing but cold.

heeseung raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but you can see the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. he’s not as untouchable as he thinks. heeseung’s eyes flicker down to your exposed arms and stomach, the tattoos that snake along your skin, and you catch the shift in his expression. he’s staring, but it’s not the way he was a second ago, this is different. "did those hurt?" he asks, his tone almost tentative, like he’s unsure if he should even ask. you raise an eyebrow, glancing at him like he’s just asked the dumbest question in the world.

you stare at him for a long second, then pull in a slow breath. "what do you think?" you say, deadpanning. "of course they did." he blinks, suddenly awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. "right. uh..." he trails off, his gaze flicking around like he’s trying to find something else to say.

"are you cold?" he asks finally, his eyes narrowing slightly at your lack of layers. you’re barely dressed for fall, your shirt thin and your shorts almost too small for the weather. the chill in the air seems to be getting to him more than it’s getting to you. you snort, the sharp edge of your laugh cutting through the tension. "worry about yourself," you mutter, pulling another drag. it’s not like you were cold, it’s more that you weren’t going to admit it to him.

he watches you for a moment, brow furrowed, clearly not buying it. his eyes flicker between your face and the way you’re standing. "yeah, okay," he says, though it sounds more like he's humoring you than agreeing. heeseung takes a step closer, his hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie as he looks at you with a mix of concern and reluctance. "you know, if you really aren’t fine, i could always-“ he cuts himself off, glancing away for a second, as though considering something before shaking his head. "never mind. it’s not that cold anyway, right?"

“stop trying to make small talk, hedeun-“

“it’s heeseung,” he interrupted, visibly bothered at you getting his name wrong.

“it’s whatever, just tell me what you want, i don’t like spending much time with people like you,” you sighed. “what are you really here for?”

“i heard you sell,” heeseung started, making you let out a loud laugh. “if all you wanted was to smoke, you could’ve just asked me to share, i’m not a monster,” you extended your blunt towards him, but he declined. “i also heard about your mother, and about your old school, and everything about it,” he swallowed, nervously fiddling with his hands, contradicting with his harsh exterior. you raised an eyebrow, the edge of a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth as you listen to him, the words rolling off his tongue with a strange mix of nervousness and something else, like he’s trying to explain himself but doesn’t really know how. it’s not exactly what you expected, but it’s almost worse.

"is that so?" you reply, voice flat but laced with a quiet venom. you cross your arms over your chest, leaning back slightly as if the conversation doesn’t deserve your full attention. "so, you did all this… research on me, huh? i bet everyone had a lot of nice things to say." it was a weird situation, when you changed schools, all the girls were all over you, excited for a new girl, but as soon as they saw who you were, they escaped, not wanting anything to do with you besides get some smoke and pills.

you couldn’t blame them, you didn’t want to hang out with them either. but karina stayed, until you made the ‘mistake’ of dating the guy she liked at that moment, and since then, she made the promise to destroy your life, if only she could even try.

he seems to falter under your gaze, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment. "i just... i wanted to understand. i wasn’t trying to judge you or anything. i just..." he rubs his hands together, clearly uncomfortable. "i guess i just thought it’d make sense to know who you are before, well, before we talked again."

you can feel the sharpness in the air, his attempt at an apology or explanation almost laughable. you don’t need his pity. “so, you went and found out about me. what now?”

he looks up at you, a bit of guilt coloring his expression, but it’s hard to tell whether he’s more upset about the fact that you’re not impressed, or that his research didn’t give him the right answers. "i just-" he stops, rubbing the back of his neck again, looking more like a kid who’d gotten caught in a lie than a guy trying to make amends, secretly trying to manipulate you. "i didn’t mean to come off like that. i just... i don’t know how to read you."

your eyes narrow, sizing him up. "well, you can start by not making this about me. whatever you think you found out, that’s your problem." you tilt your head, voice going a little colder. "you’re not the first to assume shit about me. and everything i told everyone on this place about me, is barely the surface, so you can do with that what you want. but i’m not here for your guilt trip."

for a moment, it looks like he might say something else, but he just bites his lip instead, clearly unsure how to break through the wall you’ve just put up. and you’re fine with that. heeseung had no idea why you were being so hard. why he couldn’t get to you like he could with other girls. for some strange reason, he seemed drawn to you, almost as if you were here to save him from the horrible destiny that it is to be with karina. but you didn’t seem the slightest interested in him. and he hated that. he hated the fact that he felt like you were unconsciously pulling him in, but he couldn’t do the same to you.

only, that he could. and he was doing it. you could see it in his eyes, the sparkle for the unknown, you were almost an escapatory for him. from his rich kid, player, facade or maybe his own true personality. you felt the extreme change in demeanor he had since talking to you yesterday, after realizing you weren’t like the girls from his school. he seemed way more open today, and way more relaxed. but you weren’t about to be his little side distraction in his perfect, cushioned life. you weren’t just some novelty.

"good conversation, heeseung," you muttered, clicking your tongue as you stubbed out the blunt against the cement wall you were leaning on, then started to walk away. before you could get too far, you heard him call after you. "hey, wait up!"

you turned back to find a faint desperation in his eyes. "sunghoon's throwing a little something tonight, and i know you don’t usually hang with people like us, but you should come. we might need some of that stuff you’ve got." he gestured to the blunt in your hand. it was almost endearing, how he treated something so simple like it was a secret, like it was taboo. the gap between you two seemed clearer than ever.

“i’ll make sure to get you something good, i hope you can handle it,” you gave him a small smile. heeseung watched you walk away, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. he was used to girls like karina, who flattered him, who followed him, who played by the rules of his world. but you? you were something else. something he couldn’t quite figure out. he didn’t know why, but something about you made him feel off-balance.

‘you’re not an escapade. you’re not just some distraction,’ he thought to himself, eyes narrowing in confusion. you’re different. something about you. you could ground him. he didn’t know what it was. it wasn’t just the exterior, the rough edges, or the way you didn’t give a shit about his family name or his money. it wasn’t just the way you made him feel like he wasn’t the center of the universe for once. it was everything. the way you looked at him, like he was nothing special, like he was just another guy in a long line of guys who thought they could buy their way into your life.

“but i’m not like them,” he whispered, his jaw tightening, for some reason, he felt as if your opinion about him mattered, as if it would validate him and differentiate him from everyone. his fingers itched as he replayed the way you shut him down, how you were so effortlessly cold, so indifferent to everything he usually took for granted. it drove him insane, but in a way that made him want more.

heeseung's thoughts were interrupted as he heard footsteps approaching. he turned, and there she was, karina, dressed in her usual sleek, effortless luxury. she was all polished skin, perfectly pressed clothes, and a kind of beauty that seemed more crafted than natural. every strand of her hair was in place, her makeup impeccable. she was the kind of girl who seemed born to be admired, the kind who could walk into a room and instantly own it with just a smile. "there you are, baby," she said, her voice smooth and warm, but with an edge of impatience. "i've been looking for you everywhere." her eyes flicked over him, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her lips, probably because she found him standing alone. she wasn't used to seeing him like that. the usual crowd of hangers-on was missing.

heeseung barely acknowledged her greeting, his mind still half on you, half on the uneasy tension you left behind. "yeah, here i am," he replied, his voice distant, distracted. karina raised an eyebrow, noticing his disinterest. “what's up with you? you look like you're a million miles away.” her tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent of concern, or maybe just curiosity. he wasn’t acting like himself, and karina was used to having his full attention.

heeseung felt the instant need to go back to his facade, and gave her a smirk. “i’m just thinking,” he shook his head. karina’s eyes narrowed slightly. "thinking about what?" she asked, as if she wanted to understand what had him in this strange mood he changed all of a sudden. he hesitated, looking off into the distance, towards the empty tennis courts. he didn’t want to bring you up, but something in him pushed him to. "actually," he started slowly, "i’ve been wondering... why do you hate that one girl, y/n, so much?"

karina’s eyes flickered briefly, a subtle shift in her expression that heeseung didn't miss. for a moment, he saw something, just a flash, of discomfort in her gaze, he had been around enough girls to start to notice things like this. it was fleeting, but it was enough to make him pause. she straightened, regaining her composure almost immediately, but he could tell. ‘she’s jealous,’ he realized. not just of you, but of the fact that he was talking to her about you. about you, and not her.

karina stiffened, but only for a second. the smile on her face didn’t falter. ‘it’s fine,’ she thought, ‘don’t overreact. he’s just talking about her because she’s interesting. he’s not actually...’ she couldn’t quite finish the thought. she didn’t want to risk making a scene, not when she was so close to keeping things exactly the way they were. she needed him. she couldn’t let you take him away from her. so she would do her best to portray you as someone horrible.

"i don’t hate her," she replied after a beat, her voice a little too controlled. "i just don’t get her."

heeseung raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by her attempt to deflect. "you’re not fooling me," he said, his tone soft but insistent. "you don’t like her. why?"

karina let out a quiet sigh, her gaze shifting down, away from his eyes. she was debating whether or not to say what was really on her mind. finally, she spoke, her voice low. "she just… waltzes into any group, any situation, with that awful motorcycle and a hand full of drugs, and everyone loves her. no effort. she doesn’t have to try. and i hate that."

heeseung frowned, confused. "what do you mean? i don’t get it."

karina’s eyes flickered with something darker now, the frustration seeping through her composed exterior. "i mean, i work for everything. i work for people’s approval, for their attention, for their affection. i have to try, i have to be the right kind of person, say the right things, look the right way. and then she shows up, all… whatever she is, and everyone just falls over themselves for that druggie. no trying. she doesn’t care about any of it, and still, she gets everything." her voice grew harder, colder, as if she was speaking from experience. "it’s like she doesn’t even have to try, and that’s what pisses me off."

heeseung couldn’t help but study her face, watching the jealousy simmer in her eyes. it was subtle, almost masked by her cool demeanor, but he could see it now, clear as day. karina was used to being the one people admired, the one people worked to impress. and you, someone who didn’t play by any of the rules, someone who didn't care, had that same magnetic pull, without any of the effort. and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

karina stiffened, her lips curling slightly. "that’s exactly the problem," she snapped. "she doesn’t belong here, and she thinks that just because her father finally acknowledged her, and suddenly she’s super rich, she can act however she pleases. but it’s not like that."

the thought made him uneasy, but he didn’t show it. instead, he shrugged, his gaze drifting back to where you had disappeared. "i don’t think it’s the money," he muttered, almost to himself. "i think she just is. and maybe that’s what makes her different."

karina didn’t respond. she simply stepped closer, closing the distance between them, but he could feel the slight shift in the air, the way her usual easy confidence had faltered, just a little. "whatever you say," karina finally said, forcing a smile back onto her face. "but just remember, she’s just a low life addict, that’s all she is, and will ever be. you don’t want to get too close to someone like that."

heeseung didn’t meet her eyes. instead, his gaze lingered on the spot where you had walked away, and the words from earlier replayed in his head, the ones that had stuck with him the most, ‘i hope you can handle it.’

later that night, heeseung found himself at sunghoon’s house, though his mind was somewhere else entirely. the mansion was alive with the thumping pulse of bass-heavy music, laughter, and the clink of bottles being passed around. it was the kind of party sunghoon always threw, lavish, high-energy, packed with people who were either too drunk to remember their names or too wealthy to care about anything else. people were dancing in the living room, some on the massive leather couches, others sprawled across the marble floors, playing some ridiculous drinking game. it was a familiar scene, people letting loose, showing off, and pretending to forget the rules for a few hours.

but none of that mattered to heeseung right now. he was standing off to the side, leaning against a wall, a drink in his hand but barely touching it. his mind kept drifting back to you, the way you’d walked off earlier, the way karina’s words had lingered in his head. there was something about you that gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight would be the night that would reveal something important.

he didn’t even know if you’d show up tonight, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. would you? would you show up, walk through the door with that effortless confidence, and completely flip the energy of the room without even trying? it wasn’t even about impressing people. it was the way you didn’t need to try. you just were. and it was like you could walk into any situation and make everyone else’s chaos feel like it was secondary to you.

he tried to shake it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check for something. nothing. his friends were blowing up the group chat, but none of it caught his attention. it was a flurry of photos, plans to leave with a girl, someone complaining about the music being too vulgar, but nothing about you, because you weren’t part of his life. maybe that’s why he kept looking around the room, scanning the crowd, hoping, wishing that you would suddenly appear, even though he knew he was being ridiculous. you probably wouldn’t even care about coming to a place like this. too many people trying to impress each other. too much pretending.

he threw back the rest of his drink on one of sunghoon’s exotic plants, setting the glass down on the nearest table, feeling his mind drift further from the party. he leaned against the wall again, the chatter and music blurring into the background, but his focus remained fixed on the front door. he kept wondering if you'd walk through it.

across the room, jake appeared, grinning wide, holding up two shot glasses. “heeseung! come on, man, stop moping in the corner and have some fun.” he raised his eyebrows, urging him over. heeseung waved him off, still distracted. “i’m good. just got a lot on my mind.”

“yeah? don’t let it ruin the vibe, dude. you’re at a party, not a therapy session.” jake clapped him on the shoulder and turned away to rejoin the crowd. heeseung’s eyes flicked over to the front door again, and he felt that familiar twist in his stomach. ‘she’s not coming,’ he thought, but the doubt lingered. the weird hope that maybe, just maybe, she would show up. ‘she doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t want to belong here,’ he told himself. this world’s not your scene. but that thought only seemed to make him want to see you even more.

for a moment, he wondered why he cared so much. why was he fixated on whether you’d show up or not? it didn’t make sense. he barely knew you, and yet everything about you felt like a puzzle he had to solve. and now, standing in the middle of this extravagant, noisy party, he felt that pull again, the one that made him question everything, including himself.

he glanced at the door again, half-expecting to see you walk through, but nothing. just the same crowd of people, laughing and drinking, playing their games. maybe you didn’t care about these kinds of parties. maybe you didn’t care about any of this at all.

heeseung pushed through the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, escaping the chaos of the party. the cool night air hit him like a splash of water, and he took a deep breath, trying to clear his head.

the backyard was quieter, but his mind was still buzzing. he was leaning against the brick wall near the pool when he spotted karina on the other side of the yard. she was laughing, leaning into some guy with slicked-back hair, a smile too perfect to be genuine. the guy was clearly into her, his hand resting a little too comfortably on her waist, but karina didn’t seem to care. she was toying with him, teasing him, her eyes glancing over at heeseung for only a second, as if she was trying to make him jealous, but he wasn’t bothered.

heeseung didn’t care. not tonight. the sight of karina flirting with someone else didn’t stir anything in him. he didn’t even feel a spark of jealousy of that guy not being him. it was strange, but in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about you, about how you didn’t fit into this world at all, and yet, you seemed to have more of an impact on him than anyone else in the room.

he was about to turn back to search for jake, when the sound of raised voices cut through the air. it wasn’t just loud, it was intense.

he turned, his curiosity piqued, and followed the noise toward the front of the house. he didn’t know what was going on, but something told him it wasn’t good. as he rounded the corner, he saw the commotion, a guard-like guy, probably hired by sunghoon, was blocking the front door, holding his hand out like a wall. and there, standing just a few feet away from him, were you, fuming, your hands raised in defiance, and your expression unreadable but full of fire.

heeseung’s heart skipped a beat. he couldn’t believe it. you were actually arguing with the guy, not giving a damn about the way he stood there like he owned the door.

“i can’t let you in. you’re not on the list mr. park provided,” the guy was saying, his voice deep and dismissive, clearly not taking you seriously. you, however, didn’t care about his rules or his attitude. "i don’t care if i’m on that fuck-ass list or not, let me in," you snapped, leaning in so close your face almost brushed against his. "move out of my way before i make you."

heeseung watched, a little impressed, a little surprised at how you held your ground. you weren’t backing down for anything, no one was going to push you around. the guy was trying to reason with you, but you weren’t having it. before things could escalate, heeseung walked up, cutting through the tension with his calm presence. the guy looked at him with confusion, but heeseung ignored him, instead turning to you.

“hey,” he said, his voice cool but loud enough for you to hear over the noise. “it’s fine. let her in.”

you stopped, glancing up at him with a look of surprise in your eyes, like you hadn’t expected him to step in. but then your face softened slightly, and he gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, signaling to the guard that it was okay.

"i said it’s fine," heeseung continued, keeping his gaze on the guy who was still hesitating. "she’s here with me."

the guard’s eyes flicked between you two, clearly unsure, but he finally backed off. “whatever,” he muttered, stepping aside. “but you’re on thin ice, lady.”

you didn’t even acknowledge the guy’s words. you turned without a second glance, and motioned for your friend to follow your lead. “gigi, let’s go,” you said, the confidence in your voice as clear as day.

heeseung blinked, surprised by the sudden appearance of the girl who had been standing quietly behind you the entire time, playing with her nails. you both were dressed in tiny dresses that revealed too much, clearly ready to go somewhere else after this. giselle wasn’t as loud or bold as you, but there was something in the way she carried herself with her salmon colored pin-straight hair and long nails, that suggested she was just as comfortable in her own skin. she followed you without hesitation, taking slow steps toward the door.

the two of you walked together like you didn’t even notice the opulence of the house, the flashy people, or the music blaring from inside. you seemed completely indifferent to the party scene, to all of it, and heeseung couldn’t help but admire it and wonder how had he not noticed you before. while everyone else was caught up in the noise, the drinking, the pretension, you and giselle were just there. not needing anything from this world. not caring about any of it. you only seemed to care about yourselves, about the quiet between you, and maybe that was the most fascinating thing about you.

heeseung was about to say something, but you didn’t even look back at him. instead, you pushed your way through the crowd with your friend, making your way to the kitchen without a second thought. he followed, but kept his distance, not wanting to intrude.

you weren’t here for the party. you were here for you, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long he could keep watching from the sidelines before he, too, would be drawn into whatever world you existed in.

“alright,” you sighed, taking a few small plastic bags from your bra, and a cigarette box. you weren’t any kind of professional underground dealer, but you were still cautious, if not, word would get to your father and it would be a mess.

“i got you, ice, it’s the powder by the way, i got molly, those pills with happy faces on them, and weed… oh, and we pre-rolled them for you, they’re kind of fat, i’m really nice like that,” you smiled at heeseung, seeing him stare at you.

“you good?” you asked, “i didn’t bring anything else, i don’t think you’d even know how to take it,” you stepped back, crossing your arms.

“oh, yeah, yeah, that’s good,” he shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “can i scan-pay you?” heeseung asked, realizing, of course, he didn’t have any cash on him.

“yeah, it’s alright,” you said, pulling out your phone and typing in an amount before switching to a qr code for him to scan. for a moment, you considered scamming him, but decided against it. it would’ve been easy, he didn’t even ask about the prices.

once the payment went through, you flashed a quick, satisfied smile back to giselle. you could already feel happier knowing you would get out of this mansion. as you began to turn away, heeseung’s gaze shifted, his eyes landing on someone across the room. “hold on,” he muttered, scanning the crowd. he spotted jungwon nearby, leaning casually against the wall, chatting with a few people. heeseung grabbed the bags from the counter and stepped over to him.

“hey,” heeseung called, catching jungwon’s attention. “take this to sunghoon, yeah?” he passed the items over, his tone nonchalant. jungwon raised an eyebrow, looking at the bags before meeting heeseung’s eyes. “man, the things you get yourself into for a girl.”

heeseung shrugged, offering a half-smile. “it’s for me. just get it to him. he’ll know what to do.”

jungwon gave him a nod, slipping the bags into his jacket pocket. “got it.”

heeseung’s eyes followed you and giselle as you made your way toward the door, his steps quickening as he caught up with you just before you reached the curb.

“hey, where are you two headed?” he asked, voice casual but with a hint of concern. you looked at him, a little surprised to see him following. “we’re going to the south,” you said, glancing at giselle. “there’s a car race. about half an hour away, and since i had to come all the way up here for you, we’re hoping to make it to the after party.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze lingering on you. “i’ll drive you,” he said, his tone suddenly firm. “we wouldn’t want you, both of you, getting into any trouble out here.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but too high to argue. you glanced at giselle, who was lighting another blunt, and let out a sigh. "fine," you said, already feeling the weight of the night catching up with you. "i’m not in the mood to call a cab and waste money." giselle shot you a look that was part judgment, part annoyance, but she kept quiet. you could feel her disapproval, but you were beyond caring at this point.

heeseung led the way, and you followed without a word. when you reached the driveway, your eyes widened slightly at the car parked there. heeseung’s car was a sleek, black sports car, the kind that turned heads without even trying. it was polished to perfection, the curves of the body glinting in the dim light of the streetlamp. it was the kind of car that screamed wealth, effortlessly.

“is this yours?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. it was the first time something he had impressed you. heeseung smirked as he opened the passenger door for you. “yeah. pretty sure it’s faster than any cab you’d get out here.”

you shook your head, sliding into the leather seat. giselle climbed in at the back, sitting with her arms crossed, clearly not impressed. she still had that cold, distant air about her when it came to heeseung and his “scrooge mcduck” world.

heeseung didn’t seem bothered. he slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the low purr of the car’s power seemed to cut through the tension in the air. as he pulled out of the driveway, the smooth hum of the car filled the silence between you all.

it was an uncomfortable ride, but at least it was fast, and you weren’t wasting money on a cab. you stared out the window, the city lights blurring by, while giselle stared ahead, looking as unimpressed with heeseung and his world as ever. heeseung, on the other hand, kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. the drive was smooth, fast. but even as he focused on the road, his mind kept drifting back to you.

he glanced over at you, your face illuminated by the streetlights, your expression unreadable. and for a brief second, he realized that he didn’t want this ride to end. he didn’t want to stop being close to you, even if just for a moment.

as you got closer to the south side, the vibe of the neighborhood started to change. heeseung could feel it in the air. the buildings were older, the streets narrower, the houses less pristine than the ones he was used to. the gleaming luxury of his own world felt miles away. his fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings, a slight unease creeping in.

you glanced over at him, sensing the shift in his energy. “you okay?” you asked, eyes narrowing slightly as you noticed him tense up and grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. heeseung didn’t respond at first. he just kept driving, his gaze flicking between the rearview mirror and the unfamiliar streets. it was clear he wasn’t used to this. “yeah,” he said, his voice cool but there was something off about it. “just... not exactly my usual neighborhood.”

you gave him a knowing look, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “don’t worry,” you said, your voice light but with an edge of seriousness. “i’ll protect you, whatever happens pretty boy.”

heeseung shot you a glance, eyes flicking over to meet yours, before rolling his eyes. “i don’t need protection, thanks,” he muttered, but there was an almost imperceptible tension in his jaw that gave him away.

you could tell he was uncomfortable, and it wasn’t just the drive. his world and this one were different in every way, and he was out of his element, but you didn’t say anything. it was clear enough without needing to spell it out. heeseung took a turn down an alleyway, the pavement rough and uneven. he parked the car next to a few other vehicles, feeling the weight of the decision. the streetlights here weren’t as bright, and there was a certain stillness in the air that felt too quiet for comfort. his mind flashed briefly to the idea of getting robbed, but he pushed the thought away, shaking his head.

“don’t take it personally,” you said, reading his discomfort easily. you and giselle climbed out of the car, both of you moving with purpose. “come on,” you said, glancing back at him. “the after party’s just down the street.”

heeseung hesitated, but finally stepped out of the car. the low hum of the engine idled in the background, the sound of the city slowly creeping in around him. he walked behind you and giselle, trying not to seem too out of place as you led the way out the alley.

the party was just around the corner, and the closer you got, the louder the music became. from a distance, it looked like any other chaotic house party, but heeseung could sense the difference. the people were rougher, the energy sharper. it felt like a different world, one he had no real experience in. you shot him a glance over your shoulder as you reached the front door. “you’re fine,” you said, almost as if you were trying to reassure him, though you both knew there was no guarantee of that. you gave him a small smirk before pushing open the door.

heeseung paused at the threshold, looking around. this was a place where he didn’t belong, a world where people didn’t care about money or status. it was raw, unpredictable, and everything in him wanted to retreat, but something kept him standing there. you had pulled him into this world, whether he liked it or not. heeseung followed you and giselle into the backyard, where the atmosphere felt more relaxed, but still lively. the yard was filled with groups of people gathered around, casually chatting and laughing. the air was thicker here, filled with the mix of cigarette smoke and the low hum of music coming from the house.

heeseung couldn’t help but feel out of place as his gaze landed on two guys, who were lounging on a bench, laughing with a couple of girls. their casual demeanor was in sharp contrast to the tightly wound posture he’d been carrying since arriving. they noticed him immediately, their eyes flicking to him, then back to you and giselle. noting he was one of ‘yours.’

“girls, you bailed on us tonight,” keeho pouted.

“we told you we were going to sell at one of y/n new classmates party. your little suicide car race isn’t that important,” giselle rolled her eyes kicking keeho’s shin with her heel, making him hiss.

yeonjun raised an eyebrow and smirked at heeseung, who was still tense, and looked like a mannequin from a golf store. “yo, man, you look like you’re about to shit yourself already. what’s with the stiff face?” he asked, clearly amused by heeseung’s discomfort. keeho chuckled, looking at him with a knowing smile.

“you’re here with her, though,” keeho added, tilting his head in your direction. “so, you’re alright, huh? wasn’t expecting to see you here, rich kid.”

you laughed at his comment, taking giselle’s blunt and taking a drag out of it.

heeseung wasn’t sure how to respond. he wasn’t sure why he felt so out of place. it wasn’t like he had anything against the people here. still, he couldn’t shake the tension in his shoulders. “yeah, just not... used to this,” he muttered, glancing around at the unfamiliar scene.

you caught his eye, noticing the tension that still hadn’t fully left him. with a small grin, you spoke up, your tone light but firm. “don’t sweat it. i said i’d protect you didn’t i? you’re fine. just enjoy the night.”

yeonjun laughed and leaned back, gesturing to the people around him. “we’re bro’s, right? just have a good time. you’re with us now,” he said, his smile more welcoming than teasing.

you and heeseung exchanged a quick look, something unspoken passing between you before you broke the silence with a small smile. “want a drink?” you asked, your tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more, like you were offering him a way to settle in, just a little. heeseung hesitated, glancing around at the people milling about, some laughing, some lost in their own world. he still wasn’t quite comfortable, still felt like an outsider, but the offer was simple enough. he nodded slowly. “yeah. sure.”

you led the way over to a small table where drinks were being passed around, beer cans, a few bottles of cheap liquor, and what looked like a mix of makeshift cocktails. the scene felt different than the polished, curated parties he was used to. you grabbed a bottle of something brown and poured it into a plastic cup, handing it to him. “you’re unlucky, i don’t have any fancy cocktails,” you said with a half-smirk, leaning back slightly as he took the drink.

“thanks,” he muttered, eyeing the cup with a little wariness before taking a careful sip. it was strong. way stronger than he expected, and he quickly forced himself to swallow, trying not to show that it burned. heeseung took another drink, feeling the warmth spread through his chest as the alcohol hit him. the tension in his body started to loosen, but his mind kept swirling around the question that had been nagging him ever since you first crossed his path.

“why are you staying with me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, a little more curious as you two settled down on two plastic chairs. “why not go back to your friends? seems like you’d rather be with them.” he watched you for a second as you absentmindedly looked around. for a moment, you didn’t answer, but then you met his gaze, your eyes soft and a little more open than usual, like you were letting him see something deeper.

“because i knew you wouldn’t feel comfortable by yourself,” you said casually, but there was something in your tone, something almost kind, that caught him off guard. you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but he could tell it was, at least to you. heeseung blinked, surprised. he hadn’t expected that kind of answer. it wasn’t what he’d imagined, especially with how standoffish you'd seemed earlier. you weren’t trying to be here out of obligation, or to entertain some rich kid from the party.

and then, as the silence stretched on for a second, he noticed something in your manner. something that shifted, just a little. your body language had relaxed, your words were slower, more open. heeseung's gaze narrowed, and he took a longer look at you. “wait a minute,” he said, voice a little more cautious. “you’re high, aren’t you?” he laughed.

“yeah, i’ve been for the last ten minutes,” you admitted with a small laugh, your words softening at the edges. “it’s just the same thing i gave you, though. don’t get all worried on me.”

“so you’re... this you?” he asked, motioning vaguely to the two of you, to the situation, to everything happening around you. “not the one back at the school?”

you shrugged again, but this time it was more relaxed. “yeah, i guess so,” you said, eyes flickering away for a second, like you were deciding whether to share more or pull back. but then, you met his gaze again, almost like you were daring him to say something about it. “i thought i’ve always been me, but now that you mention it. i guess i kind of act with some sort of resentment to you guys,”

he took another drink, then looked at you, his voice softer this time. “why’s that?”

“hard feeling,” you said simply. “family things, but it’s all handled.” you lied, not wanting to open up to him completely yet. there was definitely a change in him, and you noticed it. and in his eyes you could see the slight desperation and need. it was his new demeanour that made him different. you couldn't explain, because words couldn't even clarify what was starting to lure you in.

“heeseung, seriously, i’m opening up to you, and you keep looking at me like you want to fuck,” you said out of nowhere. he instantly tensed up and looked away.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t realize,” he said. it was obvious he didn’t want you to think of him as a player anymore, he was actually trying to please you now. you let out a soft, teasing laugh, leaning back in your chair, knowing exactly what you were doing. you decided to play into his usual game just enough to give him a bit of satisfaction. "do you?"

heeseung immediately turned toward you, eyes widening in surprise as he caught the playful glint in yours. he knew exactly what you were hinting at, but he still tried to keep his cool, pretending to be unfazed. "huh?"

"do you… want to fuck?" you asked casually, watching him with a challenge in your eyes.

his breath caught for a split second, but he quickly composed himself. he opened his mouth, unsure of how to answer, and hesitated. "i… don’t know," he muttered, trying to play it safe, though his voice betrayed a slight crack of uncertainty. you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your head tilting back as you let out a short snort. you met his eyes again, smirking. "what do you mean you don’t know? is it really that hard to say what you want?"

heeseung shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to play it cool, but the nervousness was obvious. and it was so very clear that he wanted it. he ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flickering away for a moment. "what even is your point y/n?"

you shrugged nonchalantly, your tone lighter now. "nothing, just asking."

after that night, things were different. heeseung wasn't the same. he wasn't playing games anymore, not the way he used to. it wasn’t like he’d suddenly become someone else, but around you, he changed. that distance he always kept, it started to shrink.

you could feel it in the way he acted, the way he’d look at you sometimes when you were talking in class or lunch with your friend, like he was listening for real and not just pretending. he was less guarded, more real with you.

you started meeting up behind the gym often. no one ever really saw you, and that’s how you both liked it. the air was always a little warmer there, the kind of quiet where you could actually talk. you’d smoke, and he’d sit with you, talking about everything and nothing at all. and even when the conversation would die down, there was this comfortable silence between you two. the kind that felt easy, like you didn’t have to fill every gap with words.

one day, he even just showed up at your door, standing there with his dad, holding a gift basket. you froze when you opened the door. heeseung, here, with his dad, visiting your dad. it was almost laughable. you never thought you’d see the day, but there he was, a little nervous, but still trying to act cool.

"uh, hey," he said, like it wasn’t the most awkward thing ever. "my dad was going to visit your dad... said something about business visits or whatever, so i came with him."

you blinked, still processing, then stepped aside to let them in. after that, you both started to realize how much closer you’d gotten. things weren’t just about secret meetings anymore. they were about knowing each other, understanding each other in a way you didn’t before.

heeseung wasn’t a player anymore, not around you. he wasn’t hiding behind any walls or pretending to be something he wasn’t. it was like he was finally letting himself be seen, and you liked that. a lot.

even with all the changes, even with how much closer you two had become, there was still that one thing hanging between you. heeseung was still with karina. it wasn’t like you didn’t notice it. the way they would still walk around school together, the way she’d smile at him when he passed by. there were no obvious signs of trouble, no cracks in their relationship that you could see.

even though heeseung would drop little hints, those quiet, uncertain words when the two of you were alone ‘i’m thinking about breaking up with her…’ it never seemed to go anywhere. he would say it with a kind of vulnerability, like he was testing the waters, like he was hoping you’d say something that would push him in one direction or the other.

you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. there was this constant tug-of-war between what he said to you in private and what he did when the world was watching. it felt like he was trying to keep one foot in both worlds, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were left waiting in the middle, unsure if you were just a momentary distraction or something more. you told yourself you shouldn’t read too much into it. that he was confused, that maybe it wasn’t the right time, or maybe he didn’t have the courage to make the change. but every time he’d tell you he wanted to leave her, you’d see the conflict in his eyes, that quiet desperation to be understood, to be seen. still, he never followed through. he never made the choice.

you stayed friendly, maybe out of habit, maybe because you weren’t quite ready to let go of the connection you’d built. you let him tag along when you hung out with your friends down south at the house. a spot that was more a sanctuary than anything else, away from the world, away from expectations.

heeseung still had that rich boy aura about him, the one that made him stick out in a crowd of worn-out jeans and streetwise attitudes. but your friends didn’t mind. they were good with him being there, even if they teased him a little. mocking his clean-cut appearance, joking about how his designer clothes didn’t exactly fit the vibe. they liked him well enough, though. it was obvious he wasn’t as comfortable with them as he was in his own circles, but he did try. and they did notice how close you’d gotten to him.

“look at mr. fancy pants over here,” yeonjun would joke, nudging him as he sipped on whatever drink was put in front of him. “you sure you’re not lost, rich boy? this isn’t exactly sushi bar territory.”

he’d smile, a little awkwardly, trying to laugh it off, but there was always a flicker of discomfort behind his eyes. he wasn’t like them, not really. they knew it, and he knew it, but it didn’t matter as much when he was there, surrounded by your friends, just being with you.

you’d catch moments, though. quiet ones when he was staring off into the distance, or when his laugh felt a little too forced. you knew it was because he was still stuck. still torn between two worlds, two lives. and you were tired of being in the middle of it. though, what ou didn’t know, that for him it was much more than that. he was stuck between two girls of different worlds. karina and you.

karina wasn’t someone he actually liked, he was just with her for his reputation and his family. but still, he was with her. and you, you were absolutely everything to him. you were the trouble that came along with bad decisions and the reward that came after them.

it all came crashing down one night when you and your friends were hanging out at the house, like you’d done countless times before. the air was thick with smoke, the sounds of laughter and music filling the dim-lit space as everyone just tried to forget for a few hours. it was supposed to be like any other night, a break from everything that weighed you down. but then, out of nowhere, the door slammed open.

sirens wailed in the distance, but it was already too late. the police stormed in, uniformed and angry, their boots pounding against the cracked floors, their voices demanding silence. they didn’t give anyone a chance to react before they were ripping through everything. throwing aside old records, scattering things off shelves, knocking over bottles.

"this is a raid," one of the officers barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "everything’s getting confiscated."

your heart sank as they swept through the room, destroying everything. things you had no idea they’d even care about. all the memories, the things that had made this place feel like home, were being taken apart right in front of you. your childhood, your sanctuary, was crumbling.

you stood frozen for a second, not sure what to do, but your instinct kicked in. no way in hell. this wasn’t right. you couldn’t let them destroy it all. you rushed forward, intent on stopping them, shouting at the officers to stop, to leave, to just go away.

"who the hell do you think you guys are?! this is my house! you can’t do this!" you screamed, your hands shaking with adrenaline as you tried to push past one of the officers to get to the old furniture, the things that meant something to you. everything in this house had a story, a memory. and they were tearing it down, trying to find something.

but before you could get too far, a hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back. it was heeseung, his grip firm but gentle as he yanked you away from the officers.

“stop,” he muttered urgently, his voice tense. "you’re not gonna win this. they’ll arrest you, they’ll make it worse." even if he was slightly scared, and terrified of getting himself arrested and the word getting to his father, he had to take care of you. he just wondered how they found out about this place, a drug raid was almost impossible, you were within the legal bounds.

you were almost angry at heeseung for not letting you go. in that moment, as the officers trashed everything that meant something to you, the anger bubbled up inside. how could he stand there, calm and collected, trying to hold you back, when everything you cared about was being destroyed? it felt like betrayal, even though you knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. he wasn’t the one doing this.

you tried to pull away from him, your heart racing, your mind spinning. "let me go, heeseung!" you snapped, your voice sharp and furious. " i can’t just stand here and watch them do this! they’re destroying everything!"

but he held you tighter, his grip unyielding. “i’m not letting you make things worse. not like this,” he said, his voice tight but calm, like he knew exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to hear it.

you yanked your arm again, almost reckless with frustration. your pulse was pounding in your ears. “why? why are you stopping me? i can’t just let them-” you broke off, your voice cracking. you didn’t want to admit how scared you were, how helpless you felt. in that moment, you realized, there wasn’t anybody there for you. the house of your mother was being searched, and she wasn’t here. and you knew you’re father wouldn’t care.

his eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might let go. but instead, he pulled you closer, his voice dropping to something gentler, but firm. “because if you go after them now, you’re just giving them more reason to hurt you. to make it worse. this isn’t the time.”

you hated that he was right. you absolutely hated it.

it wasn’t just about the stuff. it wasn’t just about the house. it was the fact that it all felt like a reminder of how much you didn’t have control over. the way things kept slipping through your fingers, no matter how hard you tried to hold on. you looked up at him, your chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. “they can’t just take everything,” you muttered, the anger still hot in your throat. “this was my life. my memories. this house is all i am.”

heeseung didn’t say anything right away. he just looked at you. like he really understood. he got it, even if you weren’t sure you could let him. finally, he exhaled slowly. "i know. but this isn’t the way to fix it."

you stood there, your body still tense, but slowly, you started to feel the reality of the situation hit you. he wasn’t letting you be reckless because he didn’t care. he was trying to protect you from making a bigger mistake, from getting hurt. from losing more. with a heavy sigh, you slumped against him, the fight draining from your body. you weren’t sure if you were more angry at the situation or at yourself for feeling so helpless. but in that moment, as the chaos continued around you, all you could do was lean into him. just a little, because you knew you couldn’t do this alone.

after the chaos of the raid, everything seemed to move in slow motion. the police had confiscated everything they wanted that seemed suspicious, leaving nothing but a wrecked space behind. they’d taken their time, ensuring that no one was left with any trace of what used to be there. when it was over, the officers had turned their attention to you, with blaming guns in hand.

you hadn’t even realized they were going to search you until they were doing it, their hands cold and impersonal as they patrolled your pockets, your bag, your shoes. your heart hammered in your chest, and you were still shaking from the adrenaline, from everything that had just happened. everything felt surreal, like you were watching it happen to someone else. but the reality of it hit hard when they finally let you out of the interrogation room, their eyes on you like you were some kind of suspect.

you stood outside the police station, the weight of everything pressing down on you. the air felt colder now, the harshness of the situation settling in. you were free to go, but the damage had been done. you felt exposed, like a part of you had been torn away that you couldn’t get back. but you couldn’t stay there anymore. the night had stretched on, and you just needed to leave.

as you stood there, trying to process the mess that had been made of your life, you heard someone approaching from behind. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. his footsteps, the way he moved, the tension in his gait, it was heeseung.

he walked up to you, his face serious, eyes darker than usual. "are you okay?" he asked, though you could tell he wasn’t asking just out of concern. he was searching for something else, something deeper. you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. instead, you just gave a tight nod, your throat too tight to speak. but then he said something that made your stomach drop.

“it was karina,” he said.

you blinked, confused. “what do you mean?”

heeseung exhaled sharply, shaking his head slightly, like he couldn’t believe it. "she’s the one who called the cops. i know it. she slipped up when i talked to her a couple of minutes ago, she somehow knew i was here.”

a cold feeling swept over you as everything clicked into place. karina. karina had followed him all the way to the house, had gotten the cops involved. it made sense, but the realization didn’t make it hurt any less.

“she did this?” you asked quietly, your voice hollow. you didn’t need to say much more. it was all there. you didn’t actually believe it was possible for someone to be such a horrible human being. heeseung didn’t respond immediately. his jaw clenched, and you could see how much it was bothering him. how much it hurt him to admit it, but he couldn’t deny it.

"yeah," he muttered, his voice low. "i didn’t want to believe it at first, but... it’s clear now." he looked at you, his expression almost guilty, like he was carrying something heavy. "i never wanted you to be caught up in that. i never thought she’d go this far. i broke up with her, she kept bothering me about being here."

you turned away, looking out into the night, the cool air stinging your face. "so what now?" you asked, the words coming out flat, tired. heeseung stepped closer, his voice more earnest now, as if he wanted to say something, to fix things. "i don’t know," he admitted quietly. "i never wanted it to be like this. i don’t want to lose you... but i don’t know how to fix this either. i don’t want to hurt you."

you glanced at him, feeling the weight of the moment. part of you wanted to scream, to say everything that was building up inside, but another part of you just felt... defeated. because the truth was, even now, with everything that had happened, you still didn’t have an answer. and maybe that was the problem. you could feel it. the tension that had been there for so long. the feelings that you couldn’t fully express, that he couldn’t seem to acknowledge. and here you were, caught in the middle of it all.

“you’ve already hurt me, heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i guess... i guess i’ve been letting you. because i still don’t know how to walk away.”

heeseung’s expression faltered. "i never wanted you to feel that way."

you shook your head. “you don’t get it, do you? it’s not about what you want anymore. it’s about what’s already happened.”

he didn’t have a response. all he could do was stand there, looking at you like he wanted to fix things, but knowing he couldn’t. because when it came down to it, the choice had never been yours. and it sure as hell wasn’t his to make anymore.

for the next few days, you avoided heeseung like the plague. and he couldn’t get close to you. everytime he tried, something got in the way, his friends, responsibilities. and you were fine with that. you just had to accept that everything that happened with him was just a slip up, and you’d soon be in your usual bad girl exterior, ignoring him one again.

but it wasn’t that easy. not with karina still out to make your life impossible. she was still angry at you for whatever reason. angry enough to confront you again.

“how are you doing, y/n?” karina pulled out a chair in your empty lunch table, sitting down neatly on it.

“what the fuck do you want?” you spat, annoyed by her presence. you could already feel the stares of students and teachers, as they were informed of what happened.

“geez, calm down, we wouldn’t want you to get a violence complaint and get sent back to the police station, wouldn’t we?”

that was all she needed to say, the single words that came out of her mouth. and she was face down on the ground. you pressed your knee on her back, keeping her grounded, as your hand made her face keep contact with the dirty floor. “you keep fucking messing with me karina, i told you i wouldn’t let it go.”

from a table not to far away, heeseung sat with his friends, watching the scene intently, and for once, heeseung felt himself worrying about a girl. not karina, but you. for once he felt the need to protect you, even if you were already capable on your own.

a small drop of blood from her perfect skin was enough to make you land yourself in the principal’s office. after the fight in the cafeteria, everything changed. you were suspended for your actions, the consequences of that impulsive moment catching up with you. karina had pushed you too far, it was messy. it was ugly. and now, it was your reality.

you spent the next week alone, mostly, apart from that day your father made you attend rehab, because for some reason the school requested it, there you met some nice people. the suspension meant missing school, being grounded and missing your friends down south who kept spamming your phone, and also being forced to face the aftermath of everything. it was a strange kind of isolation. you hadn’t expected to feel so disconnected. the chaos of the fight, the anger you’d been holding back for so long. it all felt like it had burned itself out in that one violent moment. and now, there was just the quiet, with nothing left to do but think.

one afternoon, as you sat on your huge balcony, smoking a cigarette, since your father confiscated everything else, you tried to let the smoke clear your head. you watched the world outside, the fancy cars in traffic passing below, people going about their business, and it felt almost surreal. like everything that had happened. the raid, the fight, was part of some other version of your life. but you couldn’t forget. you couldn’t ignore the tension in your chest. the weight of everything you’d lost. even if you didn’t want to admit it, even if you didn’t want to feel it, you still missed him. you missed the parts of him that were real. the ones that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be different. but now, with everything laid bare, you realized it was never going to be the way you wanted.

you sighed and flicked the cigarette to the ground, watching it burn out as you leaned back against the railing. it was quiet here, just you and the world. it gave you space to breathe, to think. but still, your mind kept returning to heeseung. to the way he’d looked at you in the hallways before everything went south. to the way he used to make you feel seen. and even though you were angry at him, you still couldn’t shake the thought ‘maybe i miss him more than i should.’

you were lost in thought when the doorbell rang, snapping you out of your haze. no one ever came to your house except your dad, so the sound was unexpected. you walked to the top of the stairs to see who it was, but when you saw the butler let heeseung inside, your stomach dropped. what the hell was he doing here? after everything, after you cut him off. he still showed up. frustration hit you immediately, and you turned to leave, heading quickly to your room. but heeseung wasn’t giving up that easily. you heard his footsteps behind you as he called your name. "hey, wait!"

you didn’t stop. you just pushed harder to get to your door, slamming it behind you and locking it. but you knew he was still out there, still following you.

“please, can we talk?” he said softly through the door. you stood there, fists clenched, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to know why he couldn’t just leave you alone.

you hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him standing there. you unlocked the door and let him in, and he stepped inside, his gaze immediately scanning your room. it was quiet, almost sterile. nothing like the space you had shown him at your old place. there were no personal touches, no signs of the messy, chaotic you he’d seen before. it felt different. distant.

heeseung looked around, his eyes softening with something like regret, but before he could say anything, you snapped.

“you have no right to come back into my life like this, like you own the place!” you shouted, your voice shaking with anger. “after everything, after you- ugh! you can’t just show up here, acting like it’s nothing!”

he took a step back, clearly taken off guard by the intensity of your words. but you didn’t care. the frustration, the hurt. it all spilled out in a rush. “you didn’t fight for shit, heeseung! you never did. you just kept going back to karina and that made her destroy my life! so don’t come here now, thinking everything’s fine!”

his face tightened, but he didn’t speak. he just stood there, looking at you, trying to find the right words. but you couldn’t let him speak. not yet.

“you don’t get to do this,” you spat, your chest heaving. “you don’t get to just fix it after everything you’ve done.”

heeseung didn't say anything. he just stepped forward and pulled you into a kiss-fast, intense. you froze, feeling all the anger and frustration you'd built up dissolve in that moment. it wasn't gentle, it wasn't soft. it was his apology, his regret, all packed into one. you tried to push him away to keep talking, but he didn't let you. instead, his hand gripped your wrist, pushing you against the wall, and it made everything inside you twist. when he pulled back, his breath was heavy, eyes searching yours.

“i will cuss you out heeseung, for everything, maybe not just now,” you breathed out, making a small grin appear on his face.

his hands gently traced the contours of your figure as his gaze remained focused on you. he was tender, careful, his lips leaving soft, lingering touches, wanting you to remember only the feel of his kiss. "i've missed you so fucking much, you don’t even know…" he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw. "me too," you replied softly, pressing your lips against his again.

his hands quickly went to the hem of your shirt, his experienced fingers peeling it shirt off your warm body, a small sigh leaving his lips as they trailed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along it. your breathing got heavier as he sucked hard occasionally, very clearly trying to leave marks.

“fuck, slow down, i’m not going anywhere,” you let out a small breathy gasp, feeling his sharp teeth numbing on your skin, then his soft lips pressing against the spot, almost delicately. you moaned lightly as heeseung slid his knee between your thighs, feeling him smirk against your sensitive skin. “yeah, i know.”

heeseung then moved you both to the edge of your bed, gently letting you rest on your back, your head landing softly against the pillows, still very much aware of how much you needed his mouth back on your body.

he resumed to trailing kisses down your chest, through every single line of dark ink on your body, until he reached the hem of your shorts, looking up at you with those dark doe eyes, that drowned in need. “just relax, can you do that for me?” heeseung slowly started to take off your bottoms, as you sighed out “uh-huh.” he pulled them down your legs, throwing them away from your sight.

“just like that,” he slipped his hand through your white laced underwear causing you to shudder. as his soft fingertips brushed against your cunt. your chest immediately tensed feeling his index and middle finger rub down your clit, your wetness coating his fingers.

heeseung captured your lips into a hungry kiss, distracting you for a small second as he pushed two fingers deep inside of you, reaching up. but soon enough, he had you gasping for air against his mouth, as he moved them quicker, his thumb pressing against your clit, sending a warm feeling through your body.

your hand gripped the soft silk sheets, the other on his shoulder, feeling him so deep inside. your hips buckled unconsciously, wanting to get even closer to him. “fuck,” you whispered, dryly moaning, getting the overwhelming sense of cumming start building up.

heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth one time, before going down on you, his hot tongue leaving a wet trail against your skin, and then he replaced his thumb, sucking on your swollen clit, while his fingers still worked their way into you. his eyes observed how you reacted, almost as if hunting you down. it all felt too much, many sensations at the same time, they had you struggling with your words in between moans, as the knot inside your stomach tightened but quickly gave up, “fuck, ‘seung- mhmm, i’m gonna-“ you whimpered, feeling your legs start shaking, making heeseung go impossibly harder on you.

he fingered and sucked you until you came down your high, making sure to lick his fingers clean, not wanting to get your bed dirty, even if it would in a few seconds. you could feel him getting more hard, as he pressed his hips down against your plush thigh to get a bit of friction. a smirk spread across your mouth because you knew you were the reason why.

“come on, let me see your face, pretty girl,” he grabbed you with his other hand, turning your hot face towards him, almost grinning in victory when seeing your half lidded pinkish eyes, as if you were drunk from arousal and his touch. he bored into your face, as if looking at a piece of art, “you’re goddamn beautiful,” he uttered.

“yeah, i know,” you told him, making him laugh, while using your hands to unbutton his pants, starting to slide them off. heeseung noticed this, looking down at your actions then back up at you with a smirk, “and you’re telling me to slow down,” he said with a devilish tone, helping you take off his clothes, ever so slowly, torturing you with the time.

you threw him a warning look, as he propped up, still on top of you, and took off his shirt as well, letting you see his slightly tanned skin, clear of any love bites that soon would coat him. heeseung hovered over your body, watching intently how he deeply buried himself inside of you. he wouldn’t let you do any of the work, it was going to be him.

you felt him pulsate inside of you, your walls stretching out for him due to his size. it was almost painful to feel too full at once. heeseung was trying not to go crazy over how warm and tight your were, suppressing the need to fuck you with everything he had here and now, before starting to move slowly. he went as deep as he could, and once you got used to the feeling of his dick inside you, heeseung started thrusting in roughly, enough to send spams through your heat, to your body.

“fuck, you’re so good for me,” heeseung groaned, and he took advantage of your position under him to make particularly strong thursts, tightening his grip on your waist, his expression full with desire for more, to get lost in you. and your face didn’t make it better, you looked so needy and high from him at the same time, it made him want to fuck you endlessly, and lose control.

his hips kept slamming with yours mercilessly, and you felt yourself aching, wanting to cum once again, letting out a loud inevitable moan. heeseung was pressed by your walls, as he approached his edge soon, taking the moment to pound into you quickly, almost making himself a whining mess.

you whimpered into his mouth due to the overstimulation he caused you with his thrusts, a knot ran through your legs and you didn't know how much longer you could resist, you felt unbelievably full from him. your warm breath made him lose even more concentration, as he mindlessly came inside of you, coating your insides, still throbbing and moving slowly into you.

when he finally stopped and cleaned you up carefully, heeseung dropped next to you, turning to watch your profile. he raised his fist, getting your attention, and you gave him an odd look before joining your own first with him in the middle in a fistbump, even if you felt like you were about to give away into sleepiness. “atleast that’s better than making stuff awkward,” you sighed, looking up at the ceiling, only dressed in your shirt and a new pair of underwear, feeling a small tug in your throat from being dry.

“hey, we need to get up, i was planning on taking you out,” heeseung said, poking your arm playfully. he couldn’t be serious, wanting you to leave the comfort of your bed after not being able to feel how to walk.

turning your body to your side, you looked out of the glass panel that was your window, noticing the sky get darker “you’re crazy, i’m not doing that right now, let me be,” the words left your mouth tiredly, groaning as you adjusted your position.

heeseung shook his head, hearing a small breath from you, telling him you were in already dream-land, way too far for him to get ahold of you. and he was sure it would always be like that, that he would be the one chasing you, and he didn’t mind, because after all the bad decisions, he was knew he could handle it, the bad reputation and everything that came in between.

BTW: this is saur embarrassing, if it doesn’t get atleast one note, i will delete my whole account istg. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 also, not proofread. i’m not reading all that stuff again. ew.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

[homeofatlas]

Wasted Days

Summary: Being in the public eye isn’t easy. Especially when you’re in love with your best friend. 

Authors note: Y'all.......I'm sorry this has been sitting half finished forever and i just needed to get it done and out there. Not edited. Also yes this is lowkey based on that line from call me by your name. but not really but inspired from it.

Word Count: 3.2k

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Being somewhat famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You loved the fans' sweet messages, the way they encouraged you and supported you when you had bad games, and how much dedication went into the edits and the fanpages. You’d even be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up your own name on tumblr to see if their was any fanfic of you. It flattered you, all these people you didn’t know idolising you and watching your interviews. What you didn’t appreciate was how they began to read into your relationship with your best friend. Could you call it reading into when they were just calling it like they saw it? It’s hardly their fault whenever you and elisa posted pictures of your excursions or you had interviews together you were staring at her like she’s hung the moon and the stars. It seemed quite rude of them to have to point that out though, in your opinion. 

The recent influx of comments asking whether or not you two were dating made your heart beat faster in your chest. Surely there must be something there that other people can see and you aren’t just making it all up in your head, right? If not then it’s blatantly obvious for the entire internet to see how in love you are with your best friend, Elisa. You honestly can’t help the way you allegedly look at her. You’ve tried to rein it in, you’ve tried to like other people, you’ve tried to not tell anyone and make it go away. But apparently no matter where you go as soon as anyone sees you interact with her it’s like you’ve got I’m in love with her tattooed on your forehead. 

During your professional football career you’d been at Montpellier with Elisa for a year before she’d left to join PSG. Giving you just enough time to learn everything about the girl and fall in love with her, convince yourself she might feel the same way, and then be heartbroken about her transfer. You’d kept in contact and tried to see her as regularly as possible but with training and games and travelling it’d been difficult until one day when you got the call from your agent telling you PSG wanted to sign you. Immediately you’d said yes in every way but in formal writing. 

Upon your first connection with the PSG team they’d noticed something was different about you. The way your hug reuniting with Elisa lasted longer than it potentially should have. The way she was more distracted with you around. The way she stuck to you like glue and smiled more than she had before. You’d gotten into the habit of constantly being around each other again. When you two played together there was no stopping you. You could read what the other was thinking before they did it. It was like watching one person be split into two bodies. Unfortunately none of these things made your crush on her go away or dull even a little. That old saying “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”? They had a point. 

In your time away from Elisa you’d forgotten the way her eyes crinkle when she smiled and the sound of her voice without the glitchiness of the phone. Constantly being around her again made everything better and worse at the same time. You were so screwed it wasn’t even funny. Which is why it took less than three weeks for the girls to corner you and ask about your relationship with Elisa. They’d assumed something had happened in the past or you were currently together. Either way that had been your first inkling you weren’t hiding your feelings as well as you tried to. Realistically there was only so much you could do before you started to avoid the girl or be constantly dead faced. You couldn’t help smiling at her the way you did or being the one she ran to when she scored a goal. If you’re being honest, it’s her fault for being so loveable. What were you supposed to do?

Pulling into the PSG parking lot you ready yourself for the teasing you know you’ll face. Elisa posted a photo last night which showcased you two looking awfully close together while on a night out with the team. You’d already skimmed the comments and they were the same on every post which had the two of you together. 

“Are Elisa and Y/N together?”

“They are such a cute couple!”

“My OTP”

Yeah, you thought bitterly, mine too. Scanning the parking lot to see which of the girls were already getting ready your eyes landed on Elisas car. Knowing she’s already there puts a pep in your step. Walking towards the change rooms weaving into corridors and making turns you come up on the hallway before the change room. You can hear voices inside speaking with one of the voices distinctly agitated. As you move to enter you hear your name. It’s Jackie and Elisa speaking about you. Deciding to wait for a moment, you want to hear what they’re talking about. You hear Elisas voice cut through the tense silence. 

“Drop it Jackie, we’re just friends. I don’t have feelings for her and I never have. Plus if anything was going to happen don’t you think it would have by now? We’ve been friends for years.” 

You can practically see the face Elisas disbelieving face as someone once again questions the nature of your relationship. Are you really so bad she can’t even see how someone else could see the two of you together? Your stomach turns at the thought. It never gets easier to see her with other people, or hear her refer to your love as being strictly platonic. It never feels strictly platonic whenever you shiver and she immediately throws an arm around you pulling you into her side. Or when she grabs you to tell you something when she could have called your name to grab your attention. Or when she cracks a joke and she looks at you first to see if you’re smiling. Those moments rarely feel entirely platonic. 

The words straight from her mouth saying she hasn’t got feelings for you makes you want to turn around and call in sick for training but you have to get over this at some point. You have to learn your place in Elisas life, her longtime friend, perhaps even her best friend. Not her lover. The realisation never hurts less despite the dozens of times you’ve come to it.

You give it a couple more minutes letting the conversation truly die out before walking in as though you hadn’t heard a thing. As you walk in you notice the way Jackie glances between you two. You’re sure your melancholy is written on your face, everything always is. You avert your gaze before she can decipher why. Thankfully she’s quiet while you change silently you really can't handle any teasing right now. Small bits of you break off every time you have to tell someone you and Elisa are just friends. Going up to the pitch and beginning to warm up Elisas words are still ringing in your head. Day 1067 (roughly) wasted thinking of a girl who doesn’t want you back. Story of my life, you think to yourself. 

—-------

A team dinner is the last place you want to be tonight. It’s good for bonding but you’re attached to Elisas side the whole time anyways. You aren’t sure you can get anymore bonded to her. You wonder how much of it is you sticking close to her and how much of it is her keeping you close. You wonder how far you’d get before she pulled you back into her orbit. Not very far, you reckon. 

Sakina slides into the seat opposite of you. You’d say her grin is wolfish but her features are too soft for the term. 

“So you two looked pretty comfy on instagram the last couple of posts. Anything you’d like to share with the team?”

Your eyes flicker to Elisa beside you only to find her making eye contact with Jackie a couple people down. Whatever telepathic conversation they’re having right now makes your chest burn. You’re supposed to be the only one who knows her that well. Your mouth is filled with a bitter taste and something clenches and flexes in your chest. You look down trying to contain yourself before replying to Sakinas comment. 

“We hang out a lot, sue us.”

You can feel Elisa nod more than you see it. 

“Plus Y/ns a good photo taker I’ve got to put her skills to use when I have them!” She says jokingly. She leans forward in her chair propping one elbow up on the table the other coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You glance to the side meeting her eyes and smile. Yes keep your focus on me, the beast in your chest sighs and relaxes. 

“Yeah but she’s been here for a while now. You’d think you guys would be sick of each other. I mean you’ve been friends for so long. What else do you even have to talk about?” 

You have a feeling it's time for Sakina to start drinking water. Luckily Elisa saves you from having to answer again. 

“Anything, everything, whatever we feel like mostly. Sometimes we talk about nothing at all and it’s the best conversation I'll have all day.”

See? It’s stuff like that which makes you wanna scream and shout and call bullshit on being platonic. 

It's like watching everything you've ever worked for go down the drain as Sakinas eyes light up. Something in her brain seems to scream BINGO!

“So have you guys ever….you know?” She looks between you two, clearly hinting at something. “Clearly you’re great together and have been in the same places at the same times coincidentally.”

Yeah coincidentally, you think. 

Elisa leans back in her chair seemingly nonchalantly, “I mean I liked her when we were younger but it was never the right time.” She shrugs as if she hasn’t just blown up the ground you’re standing on. 

“I mean we were young and starting out in our careers, we didn’t know where we’d go. There was no point in saying anything at that point.” You try to recover. Jumping in so it seems like you’re also unbothered and knew this information. You might pass out. It feels like the lights got brighter than they were a minute ago. 

Sakina puts down her drink and seems to take a pause before replying. She goes unnaturally still for a moment before she relaxes and looks between you two with a confidence you see projected towards crowds but rarely in spaces with her friends. You’re starting to think she’a lot more sober than she’s let on and this a massive ploy or some sick fucking prank you’re the victim of. 

“So why aren’t you now?”

Oh, Fuck. 

Damage control. 

Act like this is the first time you’ve thought of this. 

You see Elisas eyes darken and an intense look in her eye directed at Sakina which the girl seems to pointedly ignore instead putting on a vague attitude of indifference which seems to suggest she’s just come to an observation, not blown up your carefully constructed weird homoerotic friendship. 

“We could never jeopardise our friendship.” Elisa answers lamely. 

You feel nauseous. Someone might need to call an ambulance because you aren’t sure if your heart has beat at all in the past five minutes. You’ve got to get out of here, you need to be alone. Just as that crosses your mind, a warm palm goes to rubbing circles on your lower back. You know she’s trying to soothe you but right now she’s a match stick and you're an old crumpled newspaper. Glancing back you give Elisa a tight smile before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, instead you walk out the front door and go home. 

—----------------

You aren’t expecting to hear from her. She’s made it abundantly clear in the last 12 hours she values your relationship but strictly as friends and used to like you but doesn’t anymore? You sigh, needing a minute to shut your brain off. 

So when there’s a knock at the door you’re confused about who's at your door on a thursday night at almost 11 pm, you know it’s the one person who would’ve noticed you slip away. 

She’s the last person you want to see and the first one you want to go to about all of this. Being in love with your best friend is too frustrating, you think as you unlock the door. 

“You left.” She’s pouting in your hallway. 

“I’ve filled my quota of hearing why I’m not relationship material to you today. Thanks, come back tomorrow.” Crap. You’re tired and you just want to go to bed, it slipped out. 

“So this is about dinner?”

You’ve had enough. 

At 11:08 pm on day 1067 (roughly) of being in love with Elisa you’ve decided you’ve had enough. 

“It’s about us. I’ve loved you for a quarter of forever and I've spent all day listening to the ways you don’t like me in front of our teammates so excuse me if i had enough and came home.” 

“Can I come in? This feels like an inside conversation, not a hallway conversation.”

You hate how she’s right and how she places her jacket on the hook that’s unofficially hers. When you turn and she’s made your home hers. She does that a lot, gets into your stuff and makes it her own. Your heart was the first thing she ever did too. 

The moment you make eye contact with her again, it comes spilling out. 

“I’ve loved you since forever. Honestly I can't pinpoint a specific moment in time where I knew I was in love. But when I listen to music there’s montages of your smile running through my head and your spirit feels like everything good in the world. Violins and guitars remind me of you. You’re music. You’re art. I love you, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t.” Everythings comes out of Elisa at rapid fire. You’re left blinking at her tiredly. 

Word’s have done enough today. You’re too tired to talk. You walk over to her and tangle her hands with yours. Her fingers run along the sides of yours and you’ve never felt simultaneously at home and like you're on a rollercoaster. You love that feeling best when you’re with Elisa, she makes everything down to going on a walk feel like an adventure but also like you’re coming home and taking off your shoes and falling into bed when you’re tired. Safe, you realise, she makes you feel safe. No one ever felt this much like home before. In fact, you think if there is a home where all the atoms in the universe started your’s would be next to hers. 

She pulls you closer to her body and before you can register it you feel a soft kiss, tentative kiss on your lips. It feels so right. You’ve always felt like your bodies were made to fit together and now you have confirmation. 

“Sorry, I had to do that, I couldn't wait any longer.” 

You hum at the sentiment. 

She pulls away before bumping your foreheads together and letting it rest there. You love how Elisa knows you. Kissing is great but you know there’s more way to be intimate in a moment without you being attached to each other. Sitting here in this silence with her is filling your lungs with life again. You hadn’t noticed how little air you’d been breathing before, now every breath is a big heave and you’re trying to fill all your senses with her. You can see her, you can hear her breaths, you can feel her warmth against you, you can smell her, you can taste the chapstick she keeps in her car. This is where you’re supposed to be, you’ve never been more sure of anything. 

Her hand comes up to cup the side of your face. Speaking quietly she utters,

��We wasted so many days.” 

She sounds like she's laughing at the irony of it all. You know her well enough to detect the hint of bitterness in her voice. You think back to all the days you spent throwing her longing looks, waiting until she looked away or turned to look back at her. Everytime she smiled or laughed or frowned and they all went into a file to document exactly what she looked like. When you were younger and she would run up to hug you after a goal or the late night phone calls or the times where the moment hung just long enough for you to consider saying something. A light on the dark sea looking for a boat to say I see you, come home to me, I'll keep you safe. You wouldn’t trade any of those moments for the world. 

“No, my love,” you whisper back bringing your own hand up to clutch hers, “I haven’t wasted a single day loving you. You make me feel like I’m somebody when I'm next to you. I don’t care about how many goals or assists I have, none of that matters. I don’t need to be somebody to anyone, I want to be someone to you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

You love her so much it’s utterly overwhelming, you can feel your throat beginning to close up. Sometimes it’s hard for you to tell her you love her because she means so much to you. Words could never portray how essential she is to your being. All you can do is hold her and try to give her the same sense of safety and wonder she gives you. Your hands tightly grip hers. You can feel her lips ghosting over the skin of your face. Her warm and heavy presence reminds you that this moment isn’t a dream. 

You feel her press small kisses from your temple to your hairline, her hand moving to cradle the back of your head. Eventually she trails her kisses along your nose before hovering over your mouth where you meet her to connect your lips again. This kiss isn’t as soft as the last. This is the kiss which tells you she’s waited long enough to have you, she isn’t going to waste another moment. Your arms creep up to wind around her neck pulling her closer to you. A deep inhale from your nose tells her you don’t want to let go just as much as her. With a small bite to your lower lip, you knew you’d been right in assuming your chemistry would translate to the physical side of the potential relationship. 

Pulling away with great effort you ask her to stay over tonight. 

She replies by kissing you harder than before. 

Perfect, you think, you’re not going to waste one more day.

[ladygojooo]

Neither Did I, My Dear (Nanami x Reader)

Synopsis: Five years - the amount of time you've been single, in university over in the States, and out of Japan. The amount of time you had to get over your ex.

Somehow, it wasn't enough.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x reader

WC: 2.3k

Content: exes to lovers, alternate universe - no powers, spiraling thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst, angst to fluff, fluffy ending, reconciliation (possibly OOC Nanami)

A/N: I tried, guys, I really did, but no guarantees that Kento is in character. I'm hoping that the more I write JJK fanfics, the easier it'll become to slip into their skins (metaphorically, lol). AO3 link here.

After five years in America, you’d forgotten how light Japan got in the springtime.

You didn’t really know how to put it, exactly, but it’s like you could see the sunbeams between the buildings and trees. You saw all the pastels and lighter colors of passerbys, the bright colors of the stands, the cherry blossoms - all of it was something you lost when you moved overseas for university. America had its vibrancy, sure, but it often was overwhelmingly grey. 

Even the peaches were softer and sweeter back in your home country. You smiled at the man running the stand, dropping the money into his hand and walking away with your find. Maybe you could make a nice peach cobbler, that was always your favorite dessert to eat when in the States.

Or, you thought as you were pushed and watched your peaches go flying into the air, maybe it would be better to force the person who ruined the peaches to pay for a new round.

“My apologies,” a baritone voice said, “I didn’t see you there.”

You looked up in spite of the unpleasant leap in your stomach to find him there.

Kento Nanami.

Valedictorian. Salaryman. Wannabe emo.

…and ex-boyfriend.

“It’s no problem,” you said, keeping your head down and gathering your peaches. “I’m not the best at watching my surroundings.”

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and for a brief second, you thought he’d move on and continue walking to wherever he had to go.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But, much to your chagrin, your name came forth from his lips, and all hope of walking away from this encounter without further interaction was dashed spectacularly.

“Nanami, hey.” Your smile felt more like a grimace, but you’d practiced in front of a mirror long enough to know that it would look fine. “How- how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well.” He bent down and picked up the last peach, putting it in the bag from whence it came. “I’ve been working for the past few years. It’s monotonous work at its finest, but there’s not much to complain about.”

“I’m glad work isn’t too much for you,” you said, keeping the strained smile on your face. “I know you worked hard to get to where you’re at.”

You both stood, letting the noise of the people moving around you fill the void that was your history.

He looked good. The lanky frame he had in high school had properly filled out, his hair had been cut and made him look professional, and the sunglasses - well, the sunglasses simply added onto the charm.

Not that there was any charm anymore. No. No, absolutely not. None.

“Would you-”

“I’ve gotta-”

You both stopped, caught off guard by speaking at the same time. “You first,” you insisted.

Nanami nodded in thanks. “Would you like to get coffee sometime? I’d like to catch up with you, if you’re willing.”

Your heart screamed in dread and delight at the proposition. It was everything you’d hoped for since he’d told you that the relationship was over, sure, but-

You’d spent five years trying to find some semblance of normal in the wake of the damage he left behind. Would intentionally meeting up with him undo all of that hard fought progress?

“I-” You cut yourself off and sighed. Who were you kidding? You still couldn’t say no to him, not even after all this time apart. “I’m free next Saturday.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers, texting back and forth sporadically, and figuring out a coffee shop which you both wanted to go to, you finally made it to the following Saturday.

You felt like you were going to puke.

Your nerves felt two seconds away from lighting on fire, which was a stark contrast to your deep and even breaths.

You felt like you were going to puke.

You leaned forward, your forehead touching the top of the steering wheel. Your eyes closed as you breathed yet again. How was this going to go? How could you stand in front of Nanami - purposefully - and not lose all the progress you made in moving on? Have you even moved on?

You felt like you were going to- 

“Alright, that’s enough, out of the car,” you told yourself, forcibly yanking your mind out of a downward spiral. You told Nanami you’d be here, and so help you if you skipped out of it because you were afraid of some stupid feelings that should have died a long time ago.

The shop bell chimed brightly as you walked in. It was a quaint little place, one recommended by Nanami himself, and one that you were quite taken by. Maybe you’d swing by here another time by yourself to enjoy it without the dread of talking to your ex hanging over you.

Speaking of, you heard him call your name from off to your right. Situated in the corner away from the other patrons was Nanami, two cups of coffee in front of him.

You waved, and as you drew close to the table, you spoke. “Hey, thank you for getting us a spot. I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

“No worries. I wanted to make sure we had a spot that wasn’t in the midst of the shop. If I recall correctly, I know we both value peace and quiet.”

You were able to blame the way your eyes darted away from his on hanging your backpack on the back of your seat. It had been over five years since you last had any meaningful conversation with him, how in the world did he still remember that about you?

“I appreciate it, Nanami, thank you.” You smiled politely at him, hoping against hope that you weren’t blushing. “And thank you for the coffee. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense, I was the one to initiate this outing. It’s only fair that I cover the cost.”

You nodded once and took a sip. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is this a muddy mocha?”

“Yes. It’s still your favorite type of coffee, correct?”

You didn’t have an excuse to break eye contact, but your eyes still glanced down at the table for a moment. Goodness, you hoped your polite poker face extended to blushing as well. “It is, yeah.”

“Good,” he said. You looked up at him through your lashes again, catching the way the side of his mouth ticked up the tiniest bit. You answered his grin with one of your own.

~~~

Much to your surprise, you two had fallen right into conversation like no time had passed. Tales about university, dead end jobs, and daily life were exchanged freely. You got to tell him about your friend group over in America, and Nanami got to disclose all the details about what his friend group in Japan was up to (you dutifully ignored the pang in your heart as you remembered that they weren’t your friends anymore).

“And that’s,” he said chuckling, head tilted back ever so slightly, “how Haibara ended up getting the number of a convict.”

“Oh my gosh,” you laughed, hand covering your mouth so as not to disturb the rest of the cafe with how loud you were. “If you would have told me that sweet, innocent Yu would one day get the contact information for a lady who’s been arrested multiple times for public drunkenness, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“I still don’t.” Nanami’s voice sounded warm and inviting, just like-

Your laughter turned to sniffles and cries in an instant, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t just remain happy. Why did you always have to do this to yourself?

You heard Nanami shift in his seat. “Are you okay?”

His question, so full of concern for your wellbeing, only pushed you closer to tears. You stood abruptly, gathering your cup and your backpack in a few seconds.

“This was a bad idea, I- I’m sorry, Nanami, I have to go,” you whispered, hand still over your mouth and half over your face as you tried to conceal your sudden shift in mood. You hurried over to the trash can by the front door and threw away the empty cup.

“Wait-”

His voice cut off as you pushed open the door, fleeing as quickly as you could.

You idiot, you knew that coming out was a bad idea, but noooo, you just had to go ahead and screw yourself over. All that progress, and for what? An outing you deluded yourself into thinking was a date?

“Stop.”

You didn’t have time to wipe your tears from your face as Nanami cornered you against the wall. The alleyway in which you two stood was abandoned, just like it was the day he broke up with you.

“It isn’t like you to burst into tears like that,” Nanami said, eyes creased with worry. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Let me go, Nanami,” you whispered, your head turned to the side so you didn’t look at him.

“Not when you’re upset like this.”

You laughed bitterly. “What makes you think you have the right to try to soothe me? Why start now?” Silence answered you, and you couldn’t help the splinter of your heart. “Just let me go, please.”

“Let me make this right,” he murmured, drawing closer. You shook your head.

“You can’t.”

Only a few seconds of silence passed before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your jaw and turn your head toward him. Two more tears dropped down your cheeks when your eyes met his. He wiped them away and settled his thumb along your cheek, letting it glide back and forth.

“I-” He sighed raggedly. “It hurts me more than ever to see you in pain. What did I do, and how can I fix it?”

You laughed around a sob stuck in your throat and tilted your head back, moving out of his grasp. His hand landed on your neck instead. Your eyes closed.

“For a moment,” you mumbled, “for a moment, I felt normal again. We used to do this all the time, back when we were in school, and for a second, it-”

You paused and breathed before you started crying harder. You already hated that there were tears streaming down your face, but the prospect of breaking down further terrified you. This was the same man who walked away after shattering your heart. You didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him again.

“Kento,” you whimpered, body betraying you as more tears slipped down your face, “for the first time in five years, everything felt bright again. I felt at peace for the first time in so long, only to remember that this is going to end. We’ll both leave the coffee shop and go back to our regular lives, and that’s ok - it is - but-”

“Breathe, darling,” he said as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. It had always been a tried-and-true method that he used back in high school to calm you down, but after so long of not having him, it only made you fully burst into tears.

“It’s been five years, Kento, why do you still hold my heart captive?”

You couldn’t see the look of devastated longing on his face through your tears, but you could feel him guide you into his arms again. You felt his warmth and strength hold you as you fell apart for the first time in a long while. You felt him rock you back and forth as your tears soaked into his shirt.

You felt whole again in the arms of the man who broke your heart, and you hated it just as much as you loved him.

Only when your cries turned into the occasional sniffle did he speak again.

“I suppose we’ve both been holding each other captive, then.”

You couldn’t understand what he was talking about. “What?”

Kento shifted, drawing you the tiniest bit closer. His breath was warm where it fanned against the crown of your head. “I’ll be honest - I asked you out today to see if there was a chance you’d allow me to date you again. Ending our relationship was the worst decision I’ve made.”

You pulled away from his chest to look at him, hoping that your face didn’t appear pathetically hopeful. “What?”

His hand came once more to rest on your cheek, eyes flitting between yours. “My heart has always been yours, I just didn’t realize it until you disappeared the week after everything ended.”

“Kento…”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, touching his forehead to yours, “let me win your heart over once again. Let me be yours.”

With his plea came two distinct paths.

The first? You could keep the walls you’d painstakingly built, back away from Nanami, and walk away. The path of your future would be blank and wide open, and you could mold it any which way you wanted. You could pursue further education, found a charity, rescue a dog or two - any and all of it, it was open to you.

And it seemed terribly unappealing.

The second? 

Well, you could lean forward and feel the warmth of his lips once more. You could spend more nights together, making dinner and watching tv before leaving for your apartment. You could hold his hand, exchange warm glances, and pepper his face with kisses. You could one day have and hold him, until death did you both part.

And so you leaned forward ever so slightly, bridging the chasm that stood between the both of you.

His lips, slightly chapped though they were, felt so much like home that it took an embarrassing amount of strength to keep standing and not fall completely into him. Kento’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he reciprocated.

“I never stopped loving you,” was the first thing out of your mouth when you pulled away. 

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Neither did I, my dear.”

[jenning-fcb]

There's something that really irritates me about the Marauders fandom, I don't know if it's an unpopular opinion or not, but I don't care.

It really bothers me the way y'all talk about fanfic. Sometimes I think some people here forget that fanfics aren't written by professional authors, it's something that someone is writing for fun and that you can read for free. you shouldn't be criticizing them as if they were published books written by professional authors.

You have every right in the world to be reading something and not like it, but do you know what is the right thing to do? Just close the tab and go look for something that you like more. Don't make videos on tik tok talking bad about the story. I'm really impressed by the number of videos talking bad about fanfics, trashing them. Have some shame… I always think that when I go into the comments of this type of video I will find people criticizing this type of stance in the comments, but I never do. The comments are always full of people criticizing other fanfics not mentioned in the video.

just imagine writing a fanfic and posting it for free for others to read, something you wrote just for entertainment, and then opening tik tok and having thousands of people talking bad about you and your writing. and I'm specifically talking about Tik Tok because that's where I see it happening the most and where these videos have the more reach, but I know it also happens on others social media. I don't know if it happens here, but for example on Twitter I know it does.

and I'm speaking as someone who has never experienced this, I've never published any Harry Potter fanfic. lol and I don't see that happening in other fandoms (and also my stories have very little reach, so I don't think it would happen to me).

and another thing that bothers me, which is still within the subject of how this fandom treats fanfic, is that y'all really seem to have lost track of what that word means. the way I see some people talking disdainfully about fanfics that aren't ''very realistic''. buddy, it's FANFIC. Fanfic doesn't have to be realistic. I see a lot of people saying ''Ah, finally a fanfic that treats the 70s in a realistic way'', it's okay if you PREFER the fanfic to be realistic, that's personal taste. But it's not okay to treat fanfics that aren't realistic with disdain. One is not better than the other, being more realistic does not give more merit. Because it's just the author's choice, how they wants the story to be.

I myself prefer fanfics that aren't realistic, because as a lesbian I'm already fed up with homophobia in real life, and this is dealt with in almost every story with LGBTQIA+ people in books, films, etc… at least in fanfic I can pretend it doesn't exist.

again, personal taste is one thing, but thinking that some fanfics are better written than others just because they suit your tastes better its not okay. and treating what you don't like as inferior, with disdain… that's the problem.

Anyway, this outburst ended up getting bigger than I thought it would. lol I don't know if anyone will read this but I just wanted to get it off my chest. and if some parts were confusing, well, im sorry, but english is not my first language. and sometimes it's difficult to express myself.

ah, I'm part of several fandoms, but I only refer to the marauders because it's something I only see happening here. Maybe because it's the biggest fandom I'm part of, as the others are much more niche. but if it happens in other fandoms, have shame too. lol It's not cool for this to happen in any fandom.