#working together ????????? to make something unique to both of your perspectives ?????
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jattendschaton · 2 years ago
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what if we 🥺👉👈 collaborated on a project together 🥺👉👈 inspired each other 🥺👉👈 built one another up 🥺👉👈 created something new and fun 🥺👉👈 while cheering each other on 🥺👉👈 and bringing joy and fresh ideas to our works 🥺👉👈 wouldn't that be cool 🥺👉👈 I will fall in love with you, to be clear
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greengoblinswifey · 4 months ago
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Being in your first age gap relationship with Hwang In-ho
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You had always found yourself drawn to older men, captivated by their wisdom and experience. There was something undeniably attractive about their confidence and maturity.
You loved how they brought a sense of stability and adventure into your life, making every moment together feel rich and fulfilling. So, it was no wonder you were drawn to Hwang In-ho.
Though, the relationship was—reluctant at first. In-ho was over two decades older than you. You’d been informed about all the horror stories involving age gap relationships but through his actions, you learnt he was nothing like those men.
You loved the relationship you had with In-ho. While you were still figuring out your path, he had already walked a long journey, and that experience fascinated you. You enjoyed how he viewed the world differently, offering insights that challenged your perspective.
The age difference only seemed to enhance your connection; it allowed you to learn from him while also bringing a youthful energy into his life. You cherished how he appreciated your spontaneity, and together, you created a beautiful balance that made your relationship feel unique and special.
In-ho kept you away from the Squid Game. All you knew was that he ran a successful business and it accumulated him more than enough money to spoil you. Luxury trips, vehicles, expensive jewelry perfumes, you name it and it was yours. He was generous with his money and you lacked nothing.
The goal wasn’t to use In-ho per se, but you were going to get as much out of the relationship as you possibly could.
In-ho wasn’t just generous with his money, he was generous with his time. He’d drop whatever plans he had to spend quality time with you. Whether it be expensive dinner dates, operas, yacht dates or just a regular night with him—he didn’t care. As long as he had you in his arms.
The flirting between you and him was magnetic. He had a way of teasing you that made your heart race. One evening, as you both had dinner, he leaned in and said, “You know, I didn’t think someone your age could keep up with me.”
“Oh, I can keep up just fine. You might be the one struggling to keep up with me especially in bedroom,” you teased.
His charming smile grew wider, and he shot back, “Is that a challenge? And sweetheart you know I put in the work. Who else can have you screaming like I do?”
You felt a thrill at the playful banter, loving how he could make you feel special. His subtle gestures, like a lingering gaze or his touch, sent shivers down your spine. No one could make your core throb or you knees weak like him.
In-ho wasn’t a selfish lover either. Compared to the men your age, he knew what he was doing and he made you cum more than they ever could.
Usually, you’d never jump straight into fucking. His hands would be all over you, memorizing you as if you were braille. His tongue knew your taste, relishing in it and his lips had been on every single part of you. He knew just how to have you riled up and begging for his cock.
One night, after arriving home from a date, he spent more than an hour edging and teasing you. That was another thing about older men—they were so much kinkier than their younger counterparts.
With your consent, In-ho would have your hands bound and eat your pussy until you were shaking and crying. You never knew pleasure could become too much until you met him.
He was skilled with his tongue and just as good with his fingers, coaxing the sweetest sounds from you.
And when it came to his dick? He knew exactly how to use it.
He whispered praises in your ear as he slipped inside you, always giving you a minute to adjust and peppering kisses all over your face.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”
“You take me so well.”
“You’re such a good girl, my good girl.”
And when he’d start to move, he hit all the right spots inside you. His thrusts were always deep, he fucked you like he was trying to prove a point. And he was—no other man could make you feel as good as him.
He wouldn’t stop fucking you until he got at least three orgasms out of you, and that excluded foreplay. When you felt too fucked out to give him another, all he had to do was whisper in your ear.
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me? Make me proud and cum for me one more time, angel.”
That always did it for you.
In the end, he’d always leave you utterly spent and an incoherent mess. He knew exactly how to satisfy you.
Your pleasure was his responsibility and so was every other aspect of your life. Who would have a beautiful young woman on their arm and not put her on a pedestal? In-ho practically worshiped the ground you walked on. As long as you were happy, he was. And that’s what made the years between you seem so much smaller.
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heegyukeluv · 3 months ago
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CHAPTER ONE: you&me
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pairing: heeseung x afab!reader
synopsis: Each new cycle marks a new chapter in life’s story. You, once so sure of your choices, found yourself questioning everything when you met Heeseung, someone too perfect to be real. He adapted to you effortlessly, and it felt just as natural for him as it did for you. Now, you and Heeseung were starting a new chapter together, one that would unfold shared.
my's note: sub hee for my one and only babi!!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOVE!!!
warnings: university teacher y/n and university teacher heeseung, pet names (baby, babe, love…), yn is a menace ngl, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, SUB HEE!!!, protected and unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m), nipple play (m), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl/riding, overstimulation, edging, drooling a lil, fingering (f), bathroom sex, reader calls hee ‘good boy’, lowkey teacher kink but not really he just uses the word once and in a teasing way i swear… lmk if i missed something!
wc: 33k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis
No matter how consistent your routine had become, there was always a flutter of nerves accompanying you as you crossed the tall iron gates, the friendly greeting from the security guard sounding like a familiar melody to your ears.
It was nothing like the first time, of course. You could vividly recall the ache in your stomach from the sheer nervousness and the fear of making mistakes or embarrassing yourself. Your legs trembling, your eyes darting everywhere, and even your voice had betrayed you, faltering when you tried to interact with your superiors. But now, there was a core of pleasant anticipation – an excitement for the unknown.
After all, teaching might be routine, but every lesson offered a fresh opportunity to explore the day.
You had always embraced an open, flexible teaching style, striving to be the kind of professor who not only imparted knowledge but also genuinely listened to students and their unique perspectives. This approach wasn’t just a personal trait – it had significantly enhanced your professional reputation.
In fact, it had earned you a place on the director’s radar, leading to better positions in a surprisingly short amount of time.
In the academic hierarchy, older and more experienced educators typically had first pick of the subjects they would teach at the start of the year. Newer teachers were left with the “leftovers” – the so-called duller, broader courses that, in some ways, stifled creativity.
But you had made the best of it. You worked tirelessly, and in just two years, you achieved remarkable goals that reshaped how the director viewed you. Now, you held a slightly higher position with more freedom in choosing your courses. Of course, there were still teachers ahead of you who claimed the more prestigious subjects, the ones you could only dream of teaching someday.
It was the beginning of a new year, which meant an influx of fresh teachers. In your field – psychology – this was relatively rare. The college’s prestige meant they only hired truly promising names, which resulted in a very niche demand for positions. This, in turn, created a noticeable lack in areas like yours, where teaching needed to be particularly well-structured and thoughtfully delivered.
This semester, your schedule included Social Psychology, Personality Psychology, and Statistics.
Statistics was still a taboo subject in the field – many students avoided it like the plague, and you had been one of them as well, both as a teacher and as a learner. Yet, much to your dismay, the “dreaded course” had been assigned to you and you couldn’t do anything other than accept your fate.
And you did embrace it as a self challenge, to think beyond the usual in order to offer something engaging and valuable other than the basic 1+1 concepts that so often felt lacking. 
As you made your way, you didn’t expect any new hires in your department at all, as no one had informed you otherwise. So your surprise was undeniable when you walked into the faculty lounge and immediately spotted an unfamiliar face – or rather, a back.
It appeared to be a man, his posture slightly hunched forward, his broad shoulders and apparent firm back hinted at his height, significantly taller than you.
He was dressed in the typical attire of a freshly hired professor: slacks, dress shoes, and a neatly tucked-in shirt beneath a blazer that, if you were honest, hugged his frame almost too perfectly.
He was also murmuring something under his breath, a sort of self-assurance mantra that sounded similar to: “You’ve got this. It’s fine. They’re just teenagers. Or young adults. It doesn't matter. You’re smart.”
With your curiosity picked, your steps led you to fully enter the room, the soft click of the door coinciding with your calm, yet friendly voice breaking the air.
“I used to say the exact same thing to myself.”
The man turned abruptly, now offering you a full view of his face as his hands froze mid-motion, still in the process of fastening his blazer. 
Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours, resembling a deer caught in headlights moments away from disaster, like he was doing something wrong. Maybe he felt like when you’re doing exercises in your room and your parents step in, the embarrassment flowing through every inch of your skin.
His lips, glistening in a shade of red, hung open in shock while quick, uneven breaths escaped them, a clear sign that the surprise had been mutual, though his seemed far more intense.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you murmured, a slightly shy smile gracing the corners of your lips as you blinked, softening your features. 
Taking slow, deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you two, with the man now completely silent, but turned to face you entirely, his demeanor awkward and endearing in a way that tugged at something warm inside you. Something oddly.
“Y/N.” You extended your hand as politely as you could, ignoring the tingle on your fingertips as you waited for the ensuing touch. The man stared at your fingers adorned with beautiful rings for a brief moment before jolting and taking it in his with a careful grip, greeting back.
“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”
You couldn’t deny nor hide that his voice was somehow comforting, not too deep, not too high, just perfectly balanced to surprise you with how your heart picked up its pace at the sound.
His touch was different too; palm warm and slightly sweaty, likely from nerves, but you didn’t mind. If he was indeed a new hire, a little nervousness was to be expected. Not to mention the divergence of his steady and kind grasp.
The silence that followed as you released the handshake bordered on awkwardness, your eyes trying to focus on anything other than the man that now could be named as Heeseung. However, an unusual aura seemed to draw your attention back to him, like a silent hypnosis, magnetic, an irresistible force pulling you to trace the fragments of what was laid bare for you to drink in about his undeniable beauty.
And Heeseung took a moment to take in your appearance as well, shamelessly letting his gaze wander over your figure and consequently becoming unaware you did just the exact same thing. 
You wore fitted black slacks that subtly accentuated your thighs and waist, paired with a loose blouse tucked haphazardly into your waistband on one side. A casual yet stylish look, adequate to your job, and sufficient to drive some guys – Heeseung, in specific – to teeter the edge of losing his breath. 
One hand held your bag while the other toyed absentmindedly with the necklace around your neck, a gold watch wrapped around your wrist that stirred Heeseung’s acknowledgment about your liking for accessories.
You had your posture relaxed and seductive, even, as your piercing gaze drifted through Heeseung’s body. Attractive – undeniably so.
He looked like the kind of professor who would easily become a hit among the students – and maybe some other teachers – and you couldn’t help but wonder what and when rumors might start circulating about him.
Back in your day, you had been the subject of whispers yourself. At first it had intimidated you, not knowing how to take in the compliments and the murmurs around you, but you soon decided to switch it into confidence, growing more comfortable in your role with each passing day. It even helped you connect with your students in a way that felt natural and genuine, a give-and-take dynamic you had come to love.
“So… Heeseung,” you cleared your throat, breaking the mutual analysis with a sharp cut. The sound of your voice pulled his attention back to your face. You smiled at his flustered cheeks and innocent gaze. “You’re new here, I assume?”
“Yep. First day,” he replied with an obvious nervous sigh, nibbling his bottom lip before tilting his head with a curious expression. “Any memos?”
A soft hum was your initial response, paired with a thoughtful look as your eyes went towards a random spot to the side, most likely you were in deep thought to find the right answer. Heeseung mentally cursed himself for finding you cute with the subtle pout of your lips and the slight furrow of your brow that added to your charm.
At the same time, he didn’t judge himself too harshly. You were undeniably beautiful, and he was frankly surprised he was managing to have even this minimal conversation with you without much stutter.
“Don’t drink the coffee from earlier in the morning,” you finally concluded, nodding slightly to yourself. Heeseung narrowed his eyes to you before a smirk creeped on the corners of his mouth. “It’s awful. The one during the lunch break is much better.”
Then you then motioned in the direction of Heeseung’s chest with your chin, both your hands now firmly gripping your bag’s strap, because your fingers buzzed with a sudden need to be the one undoing his buttons.
“And maybe leave the top button of your shirt open, if you’re comfortable. If you’re too stiffly dressed, the students might see you as overly serious…” You paused abruptly, your eyes widening slightly, gesticulating amidst your awkward state. “Not that being serious is a bad thing! It’s just… you know. Teenagers. Appearances sometimes mean everything to them.”
Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his eyes curling into small crescents as he did. “Don’t worry, I get it. That was actually one of my concerns, to be honest.”
As he calmly spoke, his hands began to undo the buttons of his blazer, revealing the shirt beneath for your hungry gaze, as well as a small glimpse of his bare chest. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the sight, an unwelcome heat rising to your cheeks because, yeah, you could tell by the face and part of the exposed neck that Heeseung had honeyed skin.
But damn. Was there a reason for him to be completely attractive? He probably had some terrible habit, or a major red flag, or was burdened with deep personal flaws, because a man that good-looking rarely had good character.
Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back and forced a strained smile, more than ready to escape before your thoughts could spiral further, fearing your composure would crumble completely in front of Heeseung and ruin the first impression you made on him.
Not that you cared much about making a good impression, but he seemed to effortlessly bring out behaviors in you that were just a little beyond your control and definitely unusual from you.
“Well, enjoy your first day,” you said in a tone that hinted at goodbye, already tracing your path to the door. And when everything appeared to be falling into place, you casually let it slip, exuding a natural sense of sensuality. “I hope we’ll see more of each other around here.”
Unfortunately or not, Heeseung caught on right away. And to make matters worse, he mimicked your tone, a little more shy though.
“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too.”
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The following weeks at work went as normally as possible. Classes here and there, some students sharing personal topics with you because they felt comfortable, lunch breaks, and some free hours that always led you to the teachers’ office room to review your lesson plans and prepare for the upcoming ones, along with the daily reports you needed to write in short, concise paragraphs, just for bureaucratic purposes.
You had already filled out your syllabus for the semester, which was promptly reviewed and approved so you could start your journey in that academic year. But still, there was that unmistakable nervous feeling that seemed to follow you around.
Part of that sensation stemmed from personal anxiety, which you were able to slowly dissipate as you worked through your teaching plans, which is exactly what you were doing at that very moment.
The teachers’ room wasn’t usually filled with other professors because many preferred to occupy other spots on campus that offered just as much comfort, or even stay in their cars, claiming that they wouldn’t be disturbed in any way.
You had found yourself visiting the library and even an open area near trees and nature to catch up on your studies and lesson plans. But there, in that air-conditioned room, where coffee was free and easily accessible – and, by the afternoon, delicious – and a comfortable chair awaited, it seemed like the perfect place to try and get your head together.
There was something tangled inside you, something that didn’t seem to have a clear root, as if something clouded your ability to see what was causing you such distress. Everything seemed to revolve around the damn statistics class, which had become a growing source of stress in your planning.
Every time you thought about it, your head seemed to spin. You had taught it quite a few times, with the next class coming up in a few minutes and the sensation of lacking overwhelming you.
It almost felt pathetic, and it made you laugh without humor when you remembered your students asking how a psychologist like you could have moments of anxiety.
And then there was the part of the class where you would say that when you’re a psychologist, you don’t stop being human. Emotions, sensations, feelings – they all stay with you, even when you know relaxation techniques or how to listen to other people's problems.
Thinking about that calmed you a little. Reminding yourself that you’re human, that you feel and can feel the way your body decides to feel in certain situations. It’s natural to feel anxious about something beyond your control or something you’re uncertain about, and just admitting that is a step towards something that could bring relief.
Unfortunately, sometimes you can’t just ignore the situation, not when you’re a teacher who needs to take responsibility for the subjects you teach, since the future of your students passes through your hands every lesson and that alone carries a height of tons.
“Am I interrupting?”
Nothing had prepared you to hear someone’s voice weaving through your tormented thoughts, so your immediate response was to tense up and widen your eyes, your pulse increasing its beats significantly as your gaze lifted to meet the owner of your startle.
A breath escaped from your parted lips and formed a single name. “Heeseung?”
Your heartbeat sped up even more. 
The shock was evident in every part of your body, from the way you had stiffened entirely, to the clear flush on your face. Noticing your state, Heeseung chuckled softly.
“That’s me.”
Without a single word, your gaze instinctively swept across every detail of him, and you had to restrain yourself from succumbing to the impulse of simply drooling as you did so.
Heeseung was dressed casually, that little heads-up given him earlier the week lingered on the back of his mind long enough for him to abandon the idea of being too formal and dress more laid-back, without losing the air of vanity and elegance he enjoyed to carry.
Today, he wore a simple white dress shirt and black pants, ones that hugged his long legs with perfection. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose in a ridiculously attractive way, framing his face with care, and his ears were adorned with equal gold earrings, gleaming like drops of sunlight, perfectly attuned to his skin as if they had been forged by the same fire, crafted to exist as one.
There was no reason for that man to be walking around so excessively hot like that. 
Noticing your silence and spaced-out look, as if you were somewhere else, Heeseung got worried.
“Is everything okay?” The question was softly thrown at you, while he settled into the chair in front of the desk where you were hunched over various papers.
You cleared your throat and straightened up, blinking in embarrassment while fixing the papers. You – and your environment – were a mess, and Heeseung wasn’t helping much so far.
“Uh… Kinda,” you forced a smile, struggling to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.
Damn, how easy it was to be attracted to attractive good-looking men – a serious pleonasm. “I’m a little…” Your head tilted quickly to the side as you sucked on your teeth, hissing. “Overwhelmed?”
You had bumped into him in the hallways since exchanging names in the staff room, but always in a rush, stuck in your respective hectic routines, never having time to chat. 
There was this weight of curiosity about how he was adjusting, how he was handling the burden of being a newly hired professor at a university, if he had already shaped his persona for the academic context, among other things, that hovered over you.
Still, one thing was undeniable: he looked great, as always. And that made everything even more chaotic for you.
“With what?”
The way Heeseung asked carried a genuine air of interest, rather than superficial curiosity, the kind of just being polite or whatever. That alone was enough to make you feel comfortable opening your mouth and spilling all your anguish. He might have been newly hired, but he exuded an air of care that instantly put you at ease.
Out of habit, you bit down on your lower lip. It was a clear tell about a specific kind of nervousness that settled in your stomach whenever you were up to something, ready to dive into some mess, probably scheming. At least, that was what your friends always said about you in moments like these.
Heeseung noticed the movement immediately, his gaze fixed on the way your teeth pressed into what looked like an impossibly soft lip, which only served as an invite to his eyes to linger longer, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite tell if it was the subtle gloss coating and glistening under the light, or its natural color, but some detail about it had him completely mesmerized with such a particular and random trait.
Heeseung considered himself someone ridiculously and pathetically drawn to specific details in people when he found himself captivated by them. There were plenty of other aspects of your figure that caught his attention – like the elegant curve of your collarbone or the way you always seemed to wear at least one accessory perfectly aligned with your outfit.
But in that very moment, your lips took center stage, basking in the spotlight of his focus.
Maybe it was because he had been wondering about their taste over the past few days, ever since your first encounter. Whether the softness they seemed to exude was as velvety as it looked. Whether they would fit seamlessly against his. Whether they would deliver that fleeting, cloud-like sensation they wordlessly promised to anyone paying close enough attention.
For that reason, he caught the exact way the pressure of your teeth against your lip eased and unraveled – a simple, subtle movement that somehow felt magnified under the lens of his gaze. And the reason the lip biting was undone was because it had been dissolved when you said something he completely missed.
“Sorry,” Heeseung shook his head, as though it helped his mind to snap back into reality. “Come again?”
You giggled at his adorableness, casually placing your hands on the table and fiddling with your ring.
“I asked if you know anything about statistics.”
Only then did Heeseung lift his gaze, praying that the warmth spreading through his cheeks and to the point of his ears was merely a sensation, not an obvious giveaway that he was embarrassed, exposing its redness. 
“Uh, it's... not really my thing,” he scratched the back of his neck, desperately avoiding your piercing stare.
How did something so simple manage to throw him off so completely? Maybe it was because you subtly leaned forward, closing the distance between your faces while maintaining an almost too confident air.
Everything about you screamed confidence. You carried yourself with ease. Your steps were purposeful, yet casual. You smiled effortlessly, but never lost your composure; you knew how to assert yourself without being stern. He had heard whispers about how amazing your classes were and how you effortlessly mastered every subject you taught. And on top of that, you were, quite simply, breathtaking.
“But do you think you could help me?”
Heeseung nearly choked on his saliva, finding it hard to swallow the nervous lump that grew down his throat. You briefly took notice of how prominent his Adam’s apple bobbed, and for some reason you wondered if he was sensible in that area. 
“Well, I guess... I could try. Can’t make any promises, though…” He answered with his voice sounding tentative and sincere. His eyes shifted to the papers scattered in front of you, then back to your face, that now held a hint of a cute smile.
A cute smile that hid something darker beneath it.
You cocked your head to the side ever so slightly, allowing your eyes to quietly travel across Heeseung’s features. He hadn’t been concealing his shameless gaze on your lips earlier, which triggered your natural instinct to take control – a role you relished.
The way Heeseung faltered in front of you was curious. The clear struggle to collect himself, to answer without his voice betraying him, trying desperately to maintain eye contact and failing adorably, only made you want to dive deeper into that kind of conversation, to dig out each reaction he managed to express before your presence.
What had started as a simple request for help between colleagues now bordered on something far more seductive.
“Don’t worry about it, Heeseung,” you made sure to let his name sound even more velvety, boldly placing your hand on top of his with the silent excuse of showing the papers in front of you. “I just need a little guidance. I feel like part of what I’ve planned for my lessons isn’t good enough.”
Ah, yes. Lessons. That was what you were talking about. For a brief moment, Heeseung wondered how the air between you had shifted so easily, from the awkward tension to something electric and tantalizing, stirring his heart to skip several beats in such a short amount of time. And it wasn’t the first time.
Even in your first meeting, the exchange of glances had been too intense for a mere greeting between coworkers.
“Hm,” Heeseung nodded, swallowing hard again because he hadn't expected the subtle touch of your soft hand on his. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but it definitely affected his body. “Let me see.”
When he took the papers into his grasp, he solely visualized smudges, scattered letters, and nothing that made sense to his poor dizzy head. Not because of the content – although he struggled with statistics –, but purely because of the weight of your gaze resting over him, analyzing every tiny reaction with a seriousness and intensity that felt too much to bear without wavering.
Heeseung felt like he was going to explode at any moment and couldn’t help the urge to escape the invisible strings that captured his entire being, each of them being held by your pretty fingers.
From the first time you met it should have been just another common interaction with a colleague – like it had been with Lia, Sunghoon, or Yunjin. A polite greeting, a quick “good luck,” followed by a kind smile and that was it. Except, with you, it wasn’t.
He remembers how the sentences you two traded didn’t leave gaps to develop things beyond the standard colleague relationship, even though something definitely was left open, unresolved. 
A flavor similar to craving settled at the back of Heeseung’s throat, like you were crafted specifically to intrigue him, sparking a quiet and relentless desire to keep you close, even if only to watch you from a certain distance.
He often caught himself looking for you throughout the day, whether in the cafeteria during his lunch break, where his curious gaze wandered over the other professors in the hope of spotting your face among them, or between classes, when he would seize a moment to head to the restroom and secretly wish to run into you along the way.
And he had, in fact, seen you a few times since that first day, mostly in the corridors – which, admittedly, were far from ideal. It was rare to find you in the faculty lounge, and even when he did, you always seemed to be in a rush – though, to be fair, so was he most of the time.
None of these fleeting encounters allowed for a proper conversation, the kind where he could ask you something personal and hear your assured tone as you answered, only fueling his curiosity further.
Heeseung wanted to know you. To uncover details that weren’t obvious to everyone else. Sure, many had seen the way you acted as a professor, but did they know your favorite movie? Maybe they did – but did they know why? 
He wanted to dive deep, to understand the layers of you. And he didn’t blame himself for being interested in a colleague. The only thing that might hold him back was the possibility of rejection if he dared to push too far – but even then, he figured it would be worth the risk.
The real challenge was finding the courage to even try.
Seeing you there now felt like a stroke of luck. He had dismissed his students early, and it just so happened that your free period coincided with his. What caught him off guard, though, was simply you. Captivating, magnetic, brimming with confidence.
There was no certain way to pinpoint whatever generated his enthrallment towards you; maybe the manner you behaved around the campus, exuding your unmistakable graceful confidence marked something profound, and so far unnamable, in him. Or perhaps how your hands carried your bag nonchalantly, wrists always packed with accessories that jiggled softly, creating a delicate melody as you walked.
Everything about you had an irresistible air, an atmosphere nearly too blinding, and perhaps that was the hardest part to loose his nerves around you.
“Heeseung?” 
Your voice calling his name was more than enough to bring his existence back to the harsh reality where he had to face you – and your mesmerizing form –, with expectant eyes that also showed somewhat a darker emotion. 
Heeseung didn’t expect his voice to sound so quiet and distant when he answered, let alone his eyes to glance up expressing the way he got lost, but he was far too gone to properly understand the scenario. 
“Yes?”
On the other hand, you were really enjoying the unfolding scene, where Heeseung clearly fought his demons in order to keep his composure. Toying with the devil, you pushed further.
“Is it good?”
“What?” He was too adorable for your heart to handle, blinking his big bambi eyes in confusion before the whole skin of his face turned into a faint crimson tone. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he finally cleared his throat, moving his gaze back to the paper. “I… Mmh, I’d change this part,” he pointed to a specific paragraph where you also had highlighted it; automatically, you moved a bit closer so you could see it with him. “To something more dynamic, like… Using examples?”
You leaned in just enough to make him glance at you nervously, your voice dipping into an unmatched softness. “Examples, huh? What would you suggest?”
Heeseung shrugged and averted his gaze, his brow furrowing deeply as he struggled to come up with an appropriate example. Yes, he had read your lesson summary amidst the chaos in his head. And yes, he wanted to help you. But you – simply you – with your sweet citrusy scent, your effortless, self-assured demeanor, and the way your body leaned closer and closer to his, were utterly suffocating his straight thoughts.
You noticed how he pouted slightly as he focused, which left you experiencing a weird fondness, melting in your chest. 
A few seconds later, his gaze flickered between you and the paper. “Uh, maybe you could tie it to something relatable, like…” He paused, hoping his racing mind wouldn’t betray him too much. “You could compare it to... say, a study on preferences. Like how many people prefer... uh, dating versus not dating,” but of course, his brain had to go there. “I mean– You could show the numbers and... interpret what they reveal, use graphs and tools to illustrate how your students might apply statistics in psychology, for research and similar– Damn, sorry. I don’t need to explain that part to you. Definitely not.”
His rambling was both amusing and endearing, and you had to summon strength from the depths of your soul not to reach out and pinch his adorably pouty cheeks. Fuck it, why did he have to be like this?
“I got it, yeah,” you cut in with a low laugh. “That I can do. Thanks, Heeseung.”
His name rolled off your tongue like honey, leaving him flustered yet oddly satisfied at the sound of your appreciation. Heeseung started to wonder if you might need more help, just to hear you say his name again along with a few praises.
You softly took the paper back and jotted down a note where he had demarcated, making sure to remember and use the tip later. A quick glance at your watch reminded you that your time was running out – you needed to get to the dreaded class you were about to teach.
“Well,” gathering all your materials and placing some inside your bag, you began. You liked to carry your lesson book in your arms, it gave you a particular sense of authority and acknowledgment that only you understood. “Unfortunately, I need to go.”
As you stood up, Heeseung followed your movements with careful attention, his own body wanting to get on his feet as well, much to copy you and maybe walk you to your class. He held himself back, because that would be too pathetic. And he had already exhausted his quota of embarrassment in front of you.
You looked at him, continuing, “But before I leave, I have one more question for you.”
“About what?” He asked, his voice soft but tinged with confusion and curiosity.
“Do you fall into the group that prefers dating or not dating?”
You giggled at his immediate response; his wide eyes, his hands fumbling nervously, one of them darting to adjust his glasses as your unwavering gaze lingered on him.
“Um,” he shifted in his seat, not daring to look at you. “Dating.”
That had been a calculated move on your part, a way to test the waters and find out if he had any romantic ties. Surely, a man as handsome, intelligent, and kind as Heeseung had someone. But the way he answered, paired with his demeanor around you during your few encounters, piqued your curiosity and strengthened your belief that he wasn’t taken.
“Just to clarify, Heeseung,” you said, placing your book back on the table and flattening your hands on its surface. Leaning slightly forward, you closed the space between your faces. Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on your unwavering ones. “Are you single?”
“Yes,” he answered shyly yet promptly, his cheeks now burning with heat. “I am single.”
“Good,” you said with a satisfied nod, not even attempting to hide your delight in his response. Straightening up, you grabbed your things and prepared to leave, a smile dancing on your lips. “Very good, Heeseung.”
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You had a lecture to lead in a few minutes and hoped to grab a quick bite while reviewing your notes – a personal mantra that steadied your nerves and boosted your confidence, a ritual that you tried not to break. However, fate had different plans for you that day, starting with the unusual buzz of conversation seeping through the door of the faculty lounge, indicating more people had the same plan of occupying the room.
What caught you off guard, though, as your hand settled on the knob and you gently pushed the door open, careful not to disrupt the animated chatter, was spotting Heeseung's bright presence among the group of professors.
The instant hush that followed sent three pairs of eyes towards you, yet yours locked singularly on his. Hesseung’s expression softened automatically, shifting from the lingering remnants of a joyful laughter to something tender and inviting.
Even by the distance, you could nearly feel his irises glimmering with warmth, a genuine glow of happiness lighting up his features little by little. Internally, his heart picked up its pace, the contrast of nervous energy coursing through his body was almost palpable, his palms already growing clammy.
“Please, carry on as if I’m not here,” you quipped with a cheeky smile, not bothering to properly greet each individual. “Pretend I’m a ghost. I’m just here to grab a book,” you added, weaving a subtle lie into your words as you made your way towards the bookshelf in the corner.
A few chuckles rippled through the room before the conversation resumed, now with only two participants since one of them felt the urge to follow you every move. You wondered why you had gone through the effort of lying and how you would deal with your lunch plans elsewhere, considering none of the current people aligned with your usual solitary break.
Well… One of them could maybe help you.
“Hey,” a quiet voice cut through, pulling you from your thoughts as you lingered too long by the shelf. Your head snapped to the side, finding Heeseung standing there with an easy smile, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark grey slacks.
“Hey,” you replied, instinctively shifting to face him fully.
You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander, now practically a habit during these fleeting encounters. Today, Heeseung in a turtleneck was a sight you hadn’t been prepared for. The sleek black fabric paired with a gray blazer and silver accents from his accessories left you more breathless than you cared to admit. Lethal for your heart. Effortlessly, attractively hot. 
“Wanna grab some lunch together?” He asked with an air of casualness, which diverged entirely from the usual demeanor he displayed around you.
Your eyes sparkled with amusement, the corner of your lips curving as a shadow of a mischievous smile appeared before his boldness. Accepting the invitation veered slightly off your schedule, but the idea of speaking with him alone – and the fact that he had taken the initiative – was far too tempting to pass up.
Biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle your smile, you replied as nonchalant as you could, “Sure.”
“Great!” His voice held a trace of enthusiasm that left you feeling inexplicably giddy.
You stifled a giggle when he stepped aside, motioning for you to lead the way, and then quickly rushed ahead to hold the door open for you.
“We can head to that convenience store just down the street,” Heeseung suggested with his charmingly laid-back tone as he helped you through the way, making sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone.
It somehow felt like he practiced this entire interaction quite a few times beforehand, a hint of artificiality appearing amidst the palpable signs of sincerity; that idea matched perfectly with the persona he had shown you so far.
“It’s near, so it won’t mess with your schedule,” at that remark, your attention sharpened, your ears perking up eagerly, waiting for what he would say next. “I know you’ve got a lecture in about thirty minutes, so–”
“You know my schedule?” You cut him off immediately, letting your curiosity overtake as you ignored whatever he was saying previously because that one new information stirred a few strong beats in your chest.
Not to mention how your delight was more than evident in the way your smile brightened, your eyes instantly searching for Heeseung’s shy ones.
“I–I mean– Yeah…” tinged with hesitation and with his confidence momentarily faltering – as well as his steps –, Heeseung answered, adorably flickering his gaze to you, to the floor and then to the direction you both were walking.
However, before he could even try to start to explain himself further, you leaned in, your tone dipping slightly to reassure and tease him at once, your shoulder nudging his arm as you spoke. “You’re cute, Heeseung.”
Not much to your surprise, Heeseung froze in place after hearing your compliment, as though your words had short-circuited his brain, frying his ability to create a proper reaction other than abruptly stop walking.
You had halted your steps a bit forward so you had to turn your body to look at him, and immediately his bambi-eyes scanned you in search for some indication you were joking or pranking his poor heart. The way he had arched his eyebrows together added a charm of innocence that had your heart faltering several beats, not to mention the red flush adorning his cheeks adorably.
After quickly reading Heeseung’s dumbfounded face, you giggled and shook your head tenderly, your eyes oozing with amusement.
“I meant it,” and to add a light touch of genuineness, you held your smile a bit longer. 
Actually, being around Heeseung had this impact on you; a sudden urge to keep smiling, an unexpected and inexplicable heat spreading through your chest, soothing you in a comforting embrace. It was strangely good, as well as scary as shit.
Amidst his inner war, torn between choosing to run away and accepting your praise, Heeseung cleared his throat, making a fist with his hand and covering his lips as he did so before picking up the pace of his steps again. You started to follow, ignoring the students that clearly threw suspicious, speculative glances at you both. Heeseung seemed to mirror your decision too. 
“Well. Uh. T–Thank you,” the stammer made his demeanor even charming and you couldn’t help another giggle that escaped you. He took a little glance at you shyly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sheepish smile that betrayed how affected he was. 
Heeseung was really battling to maintain his composure, because hearing that sound two times in a row was notably increasing his pulse, and attached to the fact that you called him cute– God. He could feel his face flaming hot once again. 
By your peripheral vision, you caught how he was struggling to suppress a bigger smile, his cheeks puffing slightly as a result of his attempts. If he kept acting that way around you, there was an absurdly high chance you would throw caution to the wind and just ask to kiss him.
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
You had considered Heeseung as a potential romantic interest before – after all, he was handsome, intelligent, kind, and seemed to have an equally beautiful personality. But nothing as raw and carnal as the genuine desire to have him in such a way had crossed your mind until now.
The daylight hit your faces as you both stepped outside the building, but even that wasn’t enough to pull you out of the increasingly sinful thoughts flooding your mind. Sure, you had noticed in previous interactions how Heeseung’s gaze lingered just a little too long on your lips while you spoke. And it was definitely not the kind of attention stemming from “lip reading to understand better.” It was so clear in his eyes, an unspoken want hidden behind those charming chocolate orbs, leaving you wondering if you could be the one to make them melt sweetly for you.
Damn. More sinful thoughts.
Luckily, Heeseung interrupted the spiral going in your head when he pointed ahead to the spot he had mentioned earlier. “It’s right there,” he said, his voice light and soft. “We won’t take too long, okay?”
And then, he gave you the most beautiful smile your eyes had ever captured.
You were so screwed.
There was no other way to put it: you were starting to enjoy having Heeseung around a little too much. The reactions, the smiles, the chivalry, it was strongly getting to you. He had just held the door open for you, walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk, and pulled out your chair while offering to grab whatever you wanted to eat.
Sure, part of it was the bare minimum, but there was no denying that receiving all this without asking, without having any deeper connection beyond being colleagues, left you flustered. It felt special, as though Heeseung’s gentlemanly gestures were more deliberate and sincere simply because they were directed at you.
“Heeseung, you’re not paying for my–”
“Shh,” he gently hushed you, shaking his head as he looked down at you. He was still standing after insisting you sit while he took care of your order. “You can’t wear yourself out, Y/N. Remember: your lecture’s in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty-four minutes.”
You gave him a deadpan look and rolled your eyes, silently but surely mastering the art of hiding how affected you actually felt. Your heart had suddenly learned a new frantic rhythm, one that uncontrollably drummed against your rib cages as if it wanted to break free, ringing in your ears. 
“Fine, fine,” you finally gave up, your voice showing your surrender. “But at least let me–”
“No,” Heeseung refused again, this time gently pushing your hands down, which were holding the credit card you had just fished out of your bag. “Tell me what you want.”
After a sigh, you made your request – the simplest thing you could think of, since you were hungry, but the nervousness about your upcoming lecture left you slightly nauseous.
It was a session you had given before, but it always managed to trigger some anxiety. The lecture was open to the entire department, not just a specific class, as part of the mandatory hours – for either you and the students – where you would teach for an hour and a half on a selected topic.
While Heeseung prepared both bowls of ramen and fetched the drinks, you took the brief moment alone to review your notes on your phone. The book you had grabbed earlier as a prop for your blatant lie in the faculty lounge was now abandoned on the extra chair at your table.
Your focused expression was unmistakable, your eyes scanning the chaotic notes that only you could make sense of, notes that would somehow translate into coherent, eloquent words once you started speaking, shining in your element.
From a distance, Heeseung paused mid-way to take you in as well to inhale deeply, his shoulders visibly relaxing from the palpable tension that always seemed to grip him whenever you were near, but his hand still held a remnant of the nervous sweat. 
Inviting you to lunch had been planned in advance in his head, yet it didn’t stop his heart from missing beats when it actually happened, especially after you accepted, making him wonder if having a heart attack was anything like that feeling.
Beyond that, your cheeky words wrapped in confident compliments occupied a special place in the atmosphere surrounding you two, fanning the flames of unease that already simmered within him.
He had spent days counting the chances he might have to carve out time in his own schedule to ask you out, carefully calculating a way to avoid inconveniencing either of you. The courage to invite you outside of work hours wasn’t fully there yet.
He didn’t even have your number!
Heeseung decided to start slowly, taking baby steps. Nonetheless, the blatant flirtation from the other day still echoed in his mind, sending him spiraling into endless thoughts – or perhaps towards the obvious conclusion.
Did you want to get to know him better? What were your intentions? After a candid conversation with Sunghoon, who confirmed that flirting wasn’t your typical behavior with coworkers, Heeseung couldn’t shake the notion that something lingered in the air whenever you two interacted. It was an unspoken tension, like a cloud of silent words revealing something deeper, hidden just beneath the surface.
As usual, you looked stunning, completely immersed in your work while pouring every ounce of effort into being an excellent teacher. Heeseung had come to admire this about you.
He silently hoped you wanted him the way he had started wanting you – something more than friendship, something closer. You were kind and confident, dedicated and beautiful. Falling for you would be effortless.
If luck was on his side, this lunch would mark the first step towards the connection he longed to build with you.
As he approached, he couldn’t help but notice the faint unease clouding your otherwise captivating expression. It didn’t detract from your beauty, instead stirred a quiet desire within him to ease your worries.
“Relax,” he murmured softly, careful not to startle you, as he placed the steaming bowls of ramen and drinks on the table. You glanced up, your posture loosening as you leaned back in your chair. “You’ll do great.”
And there it was again, that effortlessly charming smile.
Heeseung took his seat across from you, leaning forward to start sipping his ramen since he was very hungry himself. His eyes crinkled slightly as they met yours, radiating warmth and tenderness, unmatching your keen gaze that followed the movement of his lips curving into a pout as he ate.
The problem was that, this time, you couldn’t hold your tongue about his beautiful grin.
“You have a really nice smile, Heeseung.”
And the reaction was instant. He choked, coughing into his hand as you giggled mischievously, quickly pushing his drink closer so he could take a sip and regain his dignity. Heeseung’s face turned as red as a tomato, increasing the adoration in your eyes as you watched the way he struggled; something about giving compliments simply for the sake of breaking his composure became one of your favorite games to play. Besides, you really meant each of them. 
You could go for hours about the traces of Heeseung’s features, analyzing it like a delicate and dreamlike painting, the ones that felt surreal, nearly far to human reach. 
For a short amount of seconds, Heeseung forgot he was speaking to the person who was climbing the romantic-interest charts with immense potential, the one responsible for the erratic beats of his heart and the thoughts he preferred not to name just yet, and not some random friend of his.
The curse slipped from his sauce-stained lips in a soft murmur. “Damn it,” he quickly wiped the area with a napkin, recovering from his small choke before practically whining the next words. “You’ve gotta stop doing that.”
You hadn't expected that behavior at all, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. The wide-eyed look he gave you immediately, as if the realization hit him that he had acted more like a child than a man in front of you, only made your chest warm with affection. Ironically, Heeseung’s cheeks also flushed, heating in pure embarrassment.
He was lowkey thankful for the outfit choice, the turtleneck covering the flush of redness creeping up his neck towards his face and ears. 
You shifted in your seat, finally ready to dig into your food as the aroma made your stomach rumble.
“Sorry,” you took a bite of your ramen, offering a lopsided smile, not the least bit apologetic for making him lose his composure in front of you. “I can’t help it.”
Realizing that your gaze hadn’t changed towards him, and in fact, you seemed even more intrigued by what he could offer, Heeseung decided to be as genuine as possible, expressing his true essence,  one that teetered on the edge of something almost reverential.
It wasn’t as if he had other options in front of your mesmerizing presence, because even a simple “hello” from you, with your velvety voice as the backdrop, was enough to destabilize his body, causing his mind to short-circuit. Then, he became a jumble of disconnected words and behaviors that perfectly reflected his inner turmoil.
“You should at least try,” Heeseung murmured again, an underlying tone of faux sadness coloring his words. He avoided looking at you for too long; otherwise, it felt like the air would vanish from his lungs. “You know, so I can pretend to be really cool around you, and then you’ll fall for me.”
Heeseung wasn’t sure where the courage to throw out such a bold line came from, but he didn’t complain at first. However, the laugh that escaped you made him question whether it was the right move, hesitating at your reaction. But then your smile remained, subtle and affectionate, your eyes dripping with amusement until you spoke, in the same low, subtly husky, sensual tone that reflected part of your personality.
“It’s adorable to watch you all flustered, Heeseung,” you replied fearlessly, reading the script he once showed you without explaining, your confidence evident in every syllable as you chewed your food, maintaining eye contact without breaking. “It’s almost addictive.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, but the cheeky smile that threatened to escape betrayed his attempt to appear annoyed. He took a sip of his drink and looked at you seriously, though there was such obvious faking behind his gaze that you had to stifle a laugh, especially since he added a small pout after speaking.
Seriously, what an adorable man.
“I don’t think it’s funny at all.”
The warm atmosphere between you both created an interesting, comfortable dynamic that made you think about exploring different paths with him, maybe even inviting him to eat outside work hours. Despite the pleasant conversation, there was always the weight of your duties as teachers. The thought made you recall your next task with a quick inner jolt.
“Wow,” you looked at the time on your phone, your expression twisting into a mix of dread and nervousness before looking back at Heeseung, who was watching you with curiosity. “I need to go.”
It was strangely nice to see his face fall into something bordering on sadness, even though it fueled an impulse to drop all responsibilities and stay with him for the rest of the day, chatting away and definitely coaxing more shy reactions out of him.
“Sorry,” you said, this time meaning it. Gently, you reached for Heeseung’s hand resting on the table, covering it with yours. “I promise we can hang out more. Give me your number.”
Everything happened so quickly. The sudden touch, the promise of a future meet, the request for his number. Heeseung needed a few seconds to process the phone extended in his direction.
“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he said, reluctantly pulling his hand away to carefully write down his name and number in your phone before handing it back to you.
You found it amusing that he saved himself as “Lee Heeseung (college),” because you initially associated it with a college friend rather than a work one, which gave a youthful, almost nostalgic air, as though you two were young lovers rather than two mature adults about to venture down a different path beyond a mere friendship.
“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said as you stood up, the man following your movements for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He still had a few minutes before he had to head back. “For the food, the conversation, and for helping me relax.”
“Y-Yeah,” he mentally cursed himself for stuttering. “Anytime, Y/N.”
You gave him a small yet sincere smile before pausing almost completely, clutching your hands around your bag’s strap. Heeseung was standing there, eyes wide and round, watching you intently, his expression sweet as honey and his body waiting for... something.
There was no way to stop your own limbs from moving when you leaned forward lightly, enveloping Heeseung in a warm hug. “Thank you so much, Hee.”
And Heeseung could only hope you didn’t hear or feel the rapid beats of his heart when he held you back.
But you did.
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Heeseung definitely wore a bolder persona through text. You believed his hands were still trembling as he sent the message, fingers glazing over the screen, searching for the best way to express what his flustered mind was trying to articulate, because countless times he seemed to delete and rewrite, hesitating before hitting send.
Despite that, it was so intriguing and sensual the way he let himself get carried away in the messages; from sweet good mornings followed by “can’t wait to see you today,” to “your outfit was stunning. I held myself back from hugging you a little longer,” implying he was slowly, yet surely growing hungrier from your touches. They were subtle phrases, perhaps innocent, but filled with an unspoken, looming desire.
At this point, it was undeniable that all you longed for was to kiss him, since the hugs that had become your usual greeting no longer satisfied the yearning to have him in direct contact with your skin. You wanted more. Much more.
“You’re suffocating me,” Heeseung mumbled against your chest, but made no effort to pull away from the position.
Yes. You were in quite a... compromising position.
You found him in the teachers' lounge, sitting at one of the chairs with his elbows propped on the smooth surface of the desk while reviewing some assignments, facial features sharpened due to the concentrated gaze and furrowed brows, although the faint pout gracing his lips softened the whole facade. 
Sunghoon had just left, greeting you with a sly smile and a wink, almost murmuring a “good luck, I’ll leave you two alone” in the most teasing way.
And it was in that very moment, when your sneaky presence entered the room, that your little plan began. Truth be told, there was no plan, just a spontaneous thought that hugging Heeseung while he was seated and you standing might be a nice touch – albeit a touch that was a bit too sultry for the work environment but would certainly reveal the mystery behind some of your insecurities and second thoughts. 
Did Heeseung flirt for his own pleasure, or was he too afraid to make a move? Because you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could wait.
“Sorry, my dear,” the endearment slipped out almost automatically, now as routine as the hugs, because to your delight, Heeseung always became embarrassed and cutely tried to avoid you when you called him that.
But who could he blame? Your honeyed voice saying the word always felt like a sweet, addictive shot to his chest.
You laughed when he groaned, pressing his face against the fabric of your blouse, pulling away ever so slightly enough for your hand to rest on his shoulder, his hand finding its way to your waist, looking up to make eye contact with you.
He wore gold-framed glasses that perfectly balanced his skin. Over the course of your conversations, a few subtle details had been revealed, like the fact that he was a little nearsighted but only wore glasses when he was too lazy to put in his contacts. And they were now slightly misplaced, giving him a ridiculously attractive air.
On top of that, he had chosen to wear suspenders that day, which only added to the innocent-boy look that made your heart tremble in a mild despair. It made you ache to ruin Heeseung in ways that were beyond comprehension, leaving him completely undone under your hands. 
And that created a bittersweet feeling within you, because Heeseung was somehow sweet and delicate, and all you could think of in moments like this was seeing him squirming in your bed.
Like. What the hell.
Vanishing the sinful stream of thoughts crossing your mind by subtly shaking it off, you smiled with a falsely angelic demeanor. A pang in your heart reminded you that those inappropriate ideas needed to disappear, because until Heeseung gave you the green light, you couldn’t take any bold actions. You had to keep your not-so-innocent instincts under control.
Your fingers lightly scratched at his scalp, making his pretty eyes flutter briefly and a soft sigh escape his lips, tinted with a pale shade of pink. Moments like this – when a sudden intimacy bloomed between the two of you – always brought with them an undeniable need to define what you were becoming or at least bring it to the table. Were you both on the same page?
“Ready to go?”
“Gimme just ten more minutes. I need to finish this,” Heeseung replied warmly, his gaze flickering towards the scattered papers on the desk.
His voice never rose around you, always soft and gentle, like you were something rare and delicate that deserved only the utmost care, you came to notice after a few interactions.
Following his line of sight, you let out a dramatic sigh, recognizing the template on the papers and sympathizing with his predicament.
“My deepest condolences,” you joked, patting his back lightly before stepping away to give him the space he needed to finish his work.
Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”
Taking the spare chair across the table, you rummaged through your bag for your phone to answer some emails and clear up a few pending tasks, working in silence to avoid disturbing him.
It was a Friday, and your plans involved dinner – a date you had invited him to, scheduled after the extended workday that surprisingly got dragged into the evening. It wasn’t a usual routine, but every so often, deadlines accumulated and students seemed to conspire to submit all their assignments at once, unnecessarily stressing the professors.
You had received your fair share of submissions earlier in the day, deciding to tackle them on Sunday. Tonight, your nerves were too tangled with excitement and anticipation about spending the entire evening with Heeseung.
Your so-called “dates” had so far been restricted to small windows of free time, with your schedules swallowing the possibility of meeting outside work. Lunchtime together had become almost expected – sometimes, a quick sandwich devoured in the span of ten minutes between breaks with Heeseung was enough to leave you happy for an entire day.
Still, whispers floated through the hallways, pointing at how students had started to pay close attention to your interactions. The lingering touches on arms, shy smiles, and starry eyes hadn't gone unnoticed. One student even mentioned Heeseung’s name during your class under the guise of linking it to something he taught, only to admit they were curious about your reaction.
And it had been priceless.
At any given time, Heeseung would be the source of your expression brightening instantly, your posture straightened as if on command, and your hand reflexively fixing any rogue strand of hair.
However, there was no reason for you to bask into that type of spotlight. Even though you carried yourself with confidence and shared openly about clinical and professional experiences with your students, believing practical examples enriched the theory, there were limits. And that line was drawn sharply when it came to your personal and romantic life.
You had particular tastes, ones not every man could embrace or accept at all. This was why you approached Heeseung with such caution – biting around the edges not to burn your tongue, to avoid ruining everything.
But something within you screamed, loud and clear, that he might be the one. Or, at the very least, someone willing to occupy a space where both of you could thrive.
“Y/N?” His soft voice broke through your spiral of thoughts with almost painful gentleness. Heeseung was always so soft, so sweet. Ugh.
“Yes?” You lifted your gaze, confused, only to find him smiling faintly.
“You were zoning out,” he pointed out, and only then did you notice the desk had been cleared, his work neatly organized. “Something on your mind?”
Yes. You.
“No,” you quickly shook your head, preparing to stand, but Heeseung’s hand stopped you, his warm touch wrapping over your fingers.
“If you’re having second thoughts about going out, we can always reschedule,” he began cautiously, his tone betraying a flicker of hesitation. “I mean, if you’re not feeling up to go out with me–”
“No!” You denied it so quickly it sounded desperate, your chest tightening at the sensation of his warm palm on yours. “Of course not! I invited you, and I really, really want to go, Hee,” clearing away his doubt took priority number one, and without even realizing it, the words left your lips in a voice both firm and gentle. “I really want to spend time with you. Outside of work. Just the two of us. On a date. Okay?”
Heeseung noticed how you had been absent for several minutes, your gaze distant as it lingered on a spot on the table, making him wonder if there was something there he couldn’t see – maybe his glasses needed a stronger prescription or something. But no, you were just lost in thought, and reading you like that stoked the uncertainty, hesitation eating his confidence away. 
He had accepted your invitation immediately, because he wanted to go out with you more than anything. Maybe the night would end with a few kisses exchanged in his car and, perhaps – hopefully –, something more.
But any hint of hesitation from you made his confidence waver unexpectedly, even if you weren’t truly unsure. If he knew the real reason behind your sudden distance, he would understand why your mind had wandered. And could even drive you through it willingly. 
Nevertheless, once you reassured him it rekindled the invisible threads of hope that had been flickering to waver, easing the tensed nerves of his body and bringing a relieved smile to his face.
With a soft squeeze on your hand, he whispered, praying not to fumble since he just realized you called it a date and his heart chose to perform acrobatics, flipping somersaults in his chest.
“Shall we?”
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The dinner was wonderful, relatively early but lovely, carried with comfortable chats and hands searching for each other. Then Heeseung suggested a walk to a nearby park so you could enjoy ice cream together, blushing furiously as he gave the idea for thinking it might be a bit cheesy and silly. 
You loved it. You loved ice cream.
You strolled for a while, leisurely, with no rush, exchanging words, sharing thoughts, and flirting subtly – some moments that even left you flustered, stirring fumbles and stutters that Heeseung stated internally it was his personal favorite side of you.
You heard him talk about the anxieties he felt at work, being newly hired and dealing with the pressures was definitely a struggle. So you shared what calmed you amid chaos, hoping something could ease his worries as much as it did for yours. Other than that, you offered your presence and listening for whenever he felt like venting out. He thanked you with a pretty smile. You nearly stumbled on your feet. 
And just like that, the next date was decided. A quiet, but certainly personal one: Sunday at your place, correcting the remaining assignments and hanging out the rest of the evening.
Then, before you both could reach the bench where you planned to sit, your ice cream nearly finished since you were a slow eater, Heeseung suddenly stopped and looked at you. Confused, you mimicked his motion and asked with worry, “Something’s wrong?”
When your eyes met, you recognized a glint of desperation and longing, an unspoken anticipation for something you didn’t know yet, but it ignited the same ache in your chest.
Your heart raced uncontrollably when Heeseung took a step forward, its thump-thump echoing in your ear like a distant thunder when he slowly, but surely closed the distance between you both.
The moonlight illuminating your faces became a silent accomplice, your gazes, heavy with unshed confessions, translating what either of you failed to articulate.
Heeseung let out a sigh, the delicate sound escaping his lips like a subtle breeze to caress your skin, before slowly running his tempting tongue over the curve of his mouth. Your eyes darted towards it, as though a magnetic pull drew your attention to the area without leaving control for you.
Your surprise was written all over your face, yet it faded quickly, when Heeseung leaned in even closer, his presence drawing you into a bubble where the rest of the world no longer existed. The surroundings turned into a blur, an ethereal fog wrapping you two in a cocoon of warmth and soft tension.
As his hand reached up to caress your cheek, there was a moment of hesitation, an unspoken uncertainty lingering in the air between you. His fingers brushed gently over your skin with a feather-light touch, as though testing the waters, while his eyes flickered through your features, marveling with attention.
His other hand, however, settled firmly on your waist, pulling you closer and anchoring you in place. The pressure was subtle and unmistakable, making your breath get caught in your throat.
“I want to kiss you,” under the stars, Heeseung confessed.
The air thickened, the last piece of the ice cream cone promptly dropping to the ground because you were too busy searching for physical contact; your fingers traced an invisible line across Heeseung’s chest, covered by the light dress shirt, until they found comfort on his broad shoulders.
“I want to kiss you too,” with a genuine mutuality, built slowly through the weeks and now finally transformed into words, you eased the weight on your chest.
It was different to simply think and to verbalize. Putting into words made it real. It showed the vulnerability hidden behind the idealization, working as a strong grounding where you, so far, feared to walk in. But Heeseung wanted to go with you just as much.
A gentle, relieved smile graced the corner of his mouth and made you mirror it almost automatically, as if the relationship created through the days synched into an admirable connection where your bodies worked together, unison. 
Eye contact remained as quiet promises hanged in the air, until your eyelids grew heavy, emotions swirling inside you and overpowering the last fragments of reasoning. The distance between you deliberately shrank, and you briefly savored the soft touch of Heeseung’s uneven breath as his parted lips grazed over yours, as a silent invite for you to meet him mid-way.
And you did. 
Heeseung was fully tense now, body quivering slightly as desperation swallowed his capacity to think straight; he could feel his hands trembling on your jawline and waist, goosebumps covering his entire being.
Touching your lips felt like embracing a plush, fluffy cloud, caressing his flesh with care and tenderness. It was delightful, carrying a warmth of affection he had never experienced with anyone else.
The very first contact was experimental, a delicate pull to ease the foreign encounter of skins, but held a trace of purpose that conveyed the inner turmoil happening inside. For short seconds you backed away, your lips ajar, silently expressing neediness that led you to lean in once more, diving into kissing Heeseung properly, because the fleeting meet wasn’t enough for you. You yearned more. 
When your tongues brushed against each other after a bold move coming from you, Heeseung groaned, the shock coursing through his body was indescribable. If he had to find words to express, he would choose the idea of a surge of electricity at the highest voltage, yet without pain or discomfort but definitely intense as such. On the contrary, it seemed to soothe every fragile piece of his soul with subtle firmness – a graceful, beautiful, and gentle contrast.
Waves of unfamiliar sensations filled your chests like butterflies dancing joyously to the rhythm you slowly unveiled together, flooding you two with a sense of “finally” that resonated louder than anything else in that moment.
Finally, you discovered the taste you craved the most; Heeseung's mouth tasted like strawberries. And devotion. It blended with the flavor of caramel melting on your tongue, a sweet and addictive mix. It bordered on surreal, like utopian dreams, unreachable, and definitely intoxicating.
While Heeseung finally discovered the softness of your lips, the delicate curve of it driving his instincts to deepen the kiss eagerly, his fingers tightening on your waist as if afraid you might slip away.
He wasn’t going to let go. Neither were you.
The world outside completely fell away. The few things that mattered and you could focus on was the heat of Heeseung’s touch, the pressure of his tongue against yours, and the frantic pace of your heartbeats intertwining together. The kiss wasn’t simply a kiss anymore, it was the culmination of all the unspoken tension, all the longing that had been building between you. A promise under the moonlight that was finally being kept.
Breathing was becoming a difficult task as the seconds passed, so you had to reluctantly break the contact, but only enough to catch your breath, your foreheads gently resting on each other.
Your eyes remained closed, heavy due to the adrenaline rushing your veins relentlessly, your pulse wildly pounding as though it aimed to set fire to your skin. It was as if the weight of tons had lifted off your shoulders, soothing your soul with an uneven calm, even though your body now burned with desire, claiming for more. 
Heeseung, on the other hand, felt like he had stepped into a new world, unbelieving of what had just happened. Breaking the blissful chaos happening inside, he breathed out a giggle, the sound both turning the dreamlike sensation into a tangible emotion and causing you to flutter your eyes open.
You leaned back ever so slightly to find him with an adorable expression, one that exuded sincerity, need and something similar to disbelief. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, feeling your cheek flush with a sudden shyness as the tips of your fingers started to wander around the silky strands of Heeseung’s hair, trailing random patterns, which drew a sigh from him.
Heeseung leaned into the touch when you cupped his face with one palm before he shook his head, the movement causing your noses to nuzzle against one another due to the proximity, and his glasses to tilt off a little. Then his smile widened, another delicate giggle gifting your hearing and your sight, since his two hooded eyes turned into small crescents behind the transparent lenses. 
“I'm kinda not believing that we just kissed,” he whispered quietly on your lips. You deliberately licked them, exhaling a chuckle at his adorableness.
Another shaky sigh escaped Heeseung, the edge of his ears turning into a crimson shade and the skin beneath your fingers warming noticeably.
“Yeah?” A small, amused smirk played on your mouth, your voice dropping to a low tone, bordering on sultry as your eyes rose, seeking the contact you so loved to maintain; those two beautiful chocolate orbs held yours, drawing you in with pure affection. “Does it feel unreal?”
Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened when you boldly, yet slowly brushed your thumb on his bottom lip, leaving no room for answers because he was falling apart, crumbling under your intensity. He then prevented you from the beautiful scenery of his glimmering eyes oozing you once he closed them to enjoy your touch.
A soft hum escaped his throat, a subtle response to the question hanging in the air that sounded a little extra sensual to your ears, a noise that definitely had no right to spasm a heat down your core.
Heeseung’s head moved slightly with a silent nod afterwards, as if to say he didn’t have the proper words to explain how out of this world, how overwhelming kissing you felt.
“Then kiss me again, Heeseung,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, lips teasingly grazing over his. Heeseung's heart stuttered, his breath faltering. “Kiss me again, and maybe it'll start to feel real.”
For a fleeting moment, hesitation flashed in his eyes as he opened them. His hungry gaze flickered between your parted, inviting lips and the anticipation burning in your stare. Had he heard you right? Did you truly want this again – want him?
You caught the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, the grip on your waist tightening, almost possessive, though beneath it lay his tensed uncertainty. His other hand remained where it was, cradling your face with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of his hold, sending an unbidden shiver cascading down your spine.
But it was your expectant, eager eyes, glowing with nothing but unfiltered desire that shattered his doubts. There was no fear, no reluctance, not even the slightest trace of insecurity coming from you. Just raw, unspoken, confident want. One more kiss. Just one more.
And so, he claimed your mouth, capturing your lower lip between his, sucking on it with a fervent need as his eyes fluttered shut – and so did yours. A soft, breathy smack echoed when he finally released it from the grasp of his own plush lips, waiting for your next decision.
A rush of warmth spread between you as your mouth searched for his instinctively, to deepen the rhythm with the passion intensifying and the pace quickening. Your tongues intertwined in a seamless dance, a newfound hunger guiding how they moved.
The hand that once caressed you wavered for a second before gliding down to your waist, fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him. The friction was subtle, but enough to steal the breath from your lungs, a gasp getting lost amidst the kiss.
Heeseung was starting to show signs of a deeper yearning, a need darker and unexplored, untouched up until this moment, but still restraining himself, an inner fight unveiling before you both. 
The discrepancy in his actions laid bare the true, fractured side of his divided desire – caught between surrendering to the primal instinct to kiss you over and over again with reckless abandon, without stopping, and the struggle to control himself, to rein in the sheer force of his craving.
But if he lost himself on you, you wouldn’t mind, not when he kissed you like this; so fiercely, so feverishly. It was intoxicating the way Heeseung devoured you with such raw need, as if this was everything, his only want, his only need, the very essence of his happiness.
The two of you clung to each other with an almost desperate tenderness at this point, as if feeling the warmth of the other’s skin was the only thing tethering you to reality – as if this simple touch carried the last breath of joy, of desire, of life itself.
You sighed into his mouth, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, drawing a delicious groan from deep within his chest. The sound alone sent a spark of pleasure coursing through you and you thanked for the tight grip on your hips, otherwise you would probably fall.
Your other hand clutched the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be able to anchor you away from the reality unfolding inside your brain; one that definitely didn’t stop there, in the middle of an open public space. 
Heeseung reacted instantly, angling his head to kiss you better, to give you the best, his lips moving with a fervor that made your entire body buzz with the type of heat you started to wish to live forever with. 
When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, panting for air, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping you as if afraid to let go, enjoying how you held his body just as close, fearing the same. 
His hooded and dazed gaze bore into yours, layered with something you couldn’t pinpoint precisely. Not before he murmured with his hoarse voice, taunting your next move. “Still feels unreal.”
You let out a breathy laugh, a feigned scoff due to his sudden shameless demeanor. Your fingertips traced the sharp line of his jaw before settling against his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss; Heeseung deduced you liked to do that, playing with his sanity enough to drift his soul towards the edge of losing it completely. 
“Then maybe,” you purred, tone laced with mischief. “We should try again. Just to make sure.”
Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening, matching yours. He whispered back. 
“But not here.”
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Heeseung had noticed the way you had practically devoured him with your gaze all afternoon, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.
Well, maybe not all afternoon, but at some point it seemed like you had grown bored of your responsibilities and decided to entertain yourself. How?
It didn’t matter if Heeseung was rambling about dull, tedious things, like students handing in papers filled with blatantly copied textbook answers despite his request for originality. Somehow, you managed to derail his thoughts into dangerous territory.
“Ugh, such a drag, right?” You had responded at the end of his rant, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout as your fingers idly traced along the fabric of his thin sweater, feigning comfort – an excuse to touch him.
Or when he asked for a glass of water, and you returned with his order and… A lollipop between your lips, absently rolling the red-tinted candy over your tongue while pretending to focus on your assignments, casually seated on the floor of your living room as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
And now, when he had simply asked for the bathroom’s location, you had replied, “Last door down the hall, right next to my room.”
There was something so subtle, yet unmistakably deliberate about the way you had emphasized my room, your voice laced with a suggestive tone to make it sound like an unspoken invitation. As if you wanted to plant the thought in his mind – no, better: dare him to wonder where exactly your room was. More precisely, where your bed was.
And it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t want you in that way. Of course he did. Ever since Friday’s kiss you had been the only thing occupying his thoughts. He had lost track of time on Saturday, running late to his own commitments, the once carefully maintained routine slipping through his fingers like sand.
You were unraveling him, piece by piece, effortlessly pulling his existence into your orbit, making his sanity wane with an alarming ease.
Now Heeseung found himself standing in the bathroom, unsure of how to step back out, his fumbling fingers disheveled his dark hair. 
No, the door wasn’t stuck, nor had any accidents occurred during his time there, he was just frustrated and flustered. 
He had lost count of how many times he had leaned over the sink to splash cold water on his face, desperately attempting to ease his nerves, which instinctively tightened at the thought of returning to a closed space with you and your brazenly, shamelessly flirts. What the hell had he gotten himself into with a woman this confident and irresistible?
You, who already carried an enviable self-assurance, were completely in your element. This was your home – you knew every inch of it, and no doubt you could use props to tease Heeseung in ways that would drive him to the brink, just like the fucking lollipop.
If he closed his eyes, the sinful image of your lips wrapping around the candy’s pink tip, sucking with an unbearable slowness, would replay like a cursed mantra – a damn film he couldn’t turn off, the screen stuck on an endless loop inside his restless mind.
It was ironic how naturally and effortlessly your relationship had unfolded… until that one defining kiss.
It felt like those tender embraces – even the ones laced with playful, wandering hands, or the moments when you deliberately hugged him while he was seated, letting his face nestle into the softness of your chest innocently – were the only thing keeping the raw, untamed desire restrained.
But the moment your lips met, the next step became far more tangible; the possibility of ending the day in your bedroom hung in the air, now more than ever thickening the space between you with an unmistakable tension.
On Friday, after deciding to head back to his car under the pretext of finding more privacy, you did exchange a few more touches, none of them pure. The moment you dared to move onto his lap, however, was when Heeseung drew the line.
“Not tonight,” he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks. 
And you respected his words without hesitation, nodding in understanding before sealing the moment with one last tender peck, your eyes dripping with fondness because that’s what Heeseung awakened in you: an equal blend of desire and deep affection, a craving to take care of him in every possible way.
The problem was: he wished it had been that night. That “tonight” that had already passed.
Heeseung ached for you to take him completely, just as he longed to claim you in return. Your delicate hands would probably fit perfectly around his length. Your soft lips would push him further into madness. And your gaze, always so confident and unwavering, would turn even more sultry behind closed doors, leaving him on the verge of collapse.
Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh, panicking once more, his pulse quickening. He would surrender to you in a heartbeat. No hesitation. If the mere feeling of your lips against his had sent him straight to heaven, he could only imagine what the rest of you could do.
There was this one small detail gnawing at his self-assurance, unraveling it into waves of anxiety that threatened to throw his entire system off balance. It had nothing to do with you directly, it was solely about him and his own perspective on sex. 
Heeseung valued his partner’s pleasure equally to his own. He firmly believed that both should enjoy the unique and intimate sensations a night of passion could bring. However, his own pleasure was far more… passive. Submissive, even. Would you be okay with that? Would you make fun or give up when he decides that you should take control? 
God. Everything becomes a spiral inside his head.
On the other hand, you were patiently waiting for his return, nonetheless your brain was playing tricks to the same extent.
Neither of you had brought up the kiss on Saturday, exchanging only brief messages, both too caught up in your own routines. And when Heeseung showed up at your doorstep for your “professor duties date” with the natural charming smile, greeting him with anything beyond a warm grin and a casual, “Welcome, make yourself at home,” felt oddly improper – even though you had noticed his fingers twitching on his sides, as if anticipating something more from you.
The urge to throw yourself into his arms and ruin him in the most alluring way possible tingled beneath your skin for the rest of the day, your chest hurting with raw need for him.
There was no logical explanation for the effect Heeseung had on you. If you dig to try, you would find mixed conclusions such as those impossibly big, affectionate eyes that stayed locked on you with an almost angelic aura, soaking in every word you spoke with attention and also stirring the deepest profanity thoughts to ever exist.
Or how he had to wet his lips with a frequency that threw your self-control out of the window, now knowing how they taste, only serving as a teasing motion for you to gather more and more arousal and need over them.
Or perhaps, just the remarkable way he was the perfect gentleman around you, treating you as a queen who deserved everything you wanted.
Delaying the conversation or actions felt equally as right as it did utterly wrong. But what struck you the most was realizing that this wasn’t you – at least, not the you that you knew. 
You didn’t shy away from challenges, never made excuses to escape a situation, nor avoided conversations that could either lead you exactly where you wanted to be or leave you in shambles. And maybe that was the thing about Heeseung – he dismantled your integrity, unsteadying your footing, weakening the very foundation of who you were.
He made you do things that never belonged to your usual repertoire, because, with ridiculous ease, he had melted a piece of your heart just enough to make space for himself. And you let him.
That was why, when Heeseung finally gathered the courage to step back into the living room, you didn’t even give yourself the chance to notice his timid posture, the way he initially avoided looking at you. The words left your lips like a bullet from a gun after holding the trigger for far too long.
“Heeseung, I want you.”
The room fell silent. A big pause before anything else happened. 
He hadn’t expected the confession. Nor had he expected to find you standing there, visibly waiting for him just to say it out loud. He lifted his gaze only to be met with the very woman who had been haunting his thoughts – the one who was always so sure of herself, so fucking intoxicatingly aware of what she wanted. 
And he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine when you took a step forward. Then another. And another. Until you were right there, face to face, breath to breath, heat to heat.
Your jaw was clenched, the tension betraying the firm decision you had already made. Your eyes burned, dark with intent, and Heeseung  felt himself shrink under your presence, overwhelmed by the so commanding atmosphere you carried. And yet, despite the way his body tensed, his pulse quickened, his breath grew ragged, he felt himself growing painfully eager. Painfully hard.
Because this was exactly what he liked.
The air between you thickened, heavy with a quiet-loud anticipation. The only sound filling the space was the uneven rhythm of your breathing, tangled together, syncing, feeding into the tension neither of you dared to break. You remained steady, firm. Heeseung, on the other hand, felt his skin prickle, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. God, you were so, so unbearably sexy.
His eyes traced your features as if committing them to memory, memorizing every curve, every line, as though he would later etch them into a canvas in silent admiration. And you were doing similar. But then he noticed something. You were holding back.
Your hands, still hanging at your sides, twitched with a restless itch to reach for him, but an invisible boundary you refused to cross without permission restrained you.
So you leaned in closer, sealing the final sliver of space between you. Your forehead pressed against Heeseung’s, noses barely brushing as your breath mingled in the heated air between you. Your lashes fluttered shut, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you pleaded, “Please… tell me you want me too.”
And that was it. That was the moment Heeseung shattered. Every last ounce of hesitation, every lingering doubt, was cast aside like it had never existed in the first place.
“Please,” he echoed, though his voice trembled, thick with something raw, desperate.
Your eyes snapped open, searching his face as confusion flickered across your features. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze fully, taking in the sight of him; his slightly furrowed brows, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark, blown-out eyes bore into yours, brimming with hunger, longing, surrender.
“Please,” Heeseung whispered again, his grip tightening as he took your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours as if grounding himself in the touch. His eyes briefly dipped downward, to the sight of your intertwined hands as if it were something sacred. “I want you. So fucking much.” His voice was nearly a whimper now, thick with emotion, aching with need.
Then, slowly, Heeseung lifted your hands to his flushed cheeks and positioned them there, his own covering yours to make sure you wouldn’t let go, as he let the heat of his skin seep into your palms.
He shuddered beneath your fingertips, his breath stuttering as he leaned into the warmth you offered so freely. “Touch me,” he said within a breath, yet laced with craving, coaxing you to do so. “Use me…”
Heeseung melted into your touch like a man starved, nuzzling into your palm before pressing a soft, tender kiss to the center of it. A shiver ran down your spine at the way his lips brushed against your skin, like he was worshiping the moment, like he was silently begging for more.
And something inside you twisted, a sharp pang of affection and want so intense it left you breathless, your pulsing core now demanding some attention. This wasn’t quite what you had expected, but the way Heeseung looked at you, as though you were something divine, as if he was ready to kneel at your feet and offer himself up without a second thought, sent a wild rush of heat through your veins.
Then, locking his gaze with yours, pupils dark, blown wide and heavy with lust, he delivered the ultimate, the final spark to the fire.
“Make me yours.”
And fuck, you would.
To say your lips merely connected would be an understatement. Heeseung jolted slightly at the force with which you yanked him forward, meeting you halfway as you leaned in, sealing your mouths together in a kiss that was both lustful and unrelenting. The slow, deliberate contact created soft, intoxicating noises, your faces moving in perfect harmony to deepen the moment; the fading sugary taste of your lollipop dissolving slowly on Heeseung’s tongue.
Your bodies slotted together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their rightful place. The hands that had once cradled Heeseung’s face, now traced a heated path down his neck before threading into his hair, fingertips grazing his skin with intent. Instinctively, his own hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he pulled you flush against his warmth, as if needing you impossibly closer.
A quiet sigh slipped past your lips as Heeseung’s hands dug into your waist, boldly searching for bare skin so his fingers could start to explore better the curves of your body; the same old possessive grip holding you in place although you guided the entire of the kiss. He was letting you decide the pace, when and where he had the freedom and openness to move his tongue and suck your bottom lip.
Realizing how firm and claiming Heeseung was pushing you towards his body elicited an immediate shiver down your spine, your skin flaming hot, a warmth that was definitely palpable; Heeseung’s own state wasn’t much different, as heat coiled around you.
It was only when your lungs screamed for relief that you both pulled away, but Heeseung was utterly lost, desperate to continue feeling your warmth. He pressed wet, heated kisses down your neck, each one more urgent than the last. He longed to explore every inch of your smooth flesh, craving to discover what made you tremble with desire, focused solely on filling you with pleasure.
“Did you figure out where my room is?” The question left you in a breathless whisper, laced with suggestion, a sharp inhale breaking into a muffled groan when Heeseung sank his teeth into a tender spot on your neck before pulling back to meet your gaze.
Your eyes searched for his, dark and hooded, your faces hovered over each other’s, both caught in a slow, tantalizing rhythm – a tease, a challenge, neither closing the distance completely. His bangs, completely off place, brushed softly against your forehead. 
“So it was intentional?” Heeseung murmured skeptically, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk, his lips flushed and kiss-bruised. He was simply putting the pieces together, waiting for confirmation.
You didn’t bother hiding your wicked grin. “Not exactly. I just took a shot in the dark to see if it would pay off,” you purred, leaning in to catch his lower lip between your teeth before adding, “And judging by your reaction…” You dragged your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, savoring the way his breath hitched. “I think you’ve got the idea.”
Heeseung huffed a chuckle, “Then…” His words trailed off as his gaze flickered from your swollen lips to your piercing stare. You noticed his voice dropping an octave, taking on a dangerously alluring tone as he continued. “Should I show what I’ve learned, teacher?”
He watched as something unspoken flashed in your eyes for the briefest of moments when he called you that, his tone thick with sensuality; it was as though the roles had reversed, and now he was the one playing the provocateur.
You didn’t bother hiding how your body reacted to the murmured word, your breath visibly faltering, the hairs at the nape of your neck standing on end. But you never wavered. Your commanding stance remained unwavering, like a tree rooted so deeply that not even the fiercest storm could bring it down.
And there was something about that unshakable composure of yours that drove Heeseung absolutely insane. Only then did he realize he wouldn’t be able to maintain his role as the tease for much longer, not when you, in the most tantalizing way, flashed a side grin, wetting your lips with a slow, torturous motion, silently emphasizing that you could ruin his existence completely with ease – and he would relish every second of it.
“I like your confidence,” you murmured, raising an eyebrow, eyes dripping with a perfect blend of amusement, daring, and pure, raw desire. Heeseung’s breath came ragged, waiting. “I’d like to see you try, though.”
This wasn’t about the way to your bedroom anymore.
Unlike you, Heeseung did back down from certain challenges, knowing his limitations. And he definitely had no desire to push you just to test your limits – at least not that night. All he craved was the bare, unfiltered contact of your skin within the four walls that enclosed your bed. 
And that single realization fueled his next actions. His hands lowered to your ass, gripping firmly before hoisting you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
The kiss that followed was messy, because Heeseung refused to close his eyes – he didn’t trust himself not to trip along the way. You let out quiet giggles in between the feverish exchange, finding it utterly endearing how he struggled to kiss you back while also staying focused enough to walk.
The position made you keenly aware of something hard pressing against your clothed cunt; Heeseung’s growing state sent a pulse of heat surging through you, a natural clench on your walls being an indicator of your own condition.
With precise movements, you both reached your final destination. Your body ached for the comfort of your bed, ready to embrace your back… if only Heeseung hadn’t sat at the edge of the mattress with you still straddling him, offering you full control over what came next.
The kiss finally deepened with proper intent, tongues brushing slowly, melting into a molten blend of warmth and desire. Your hands framed Heeseung’s face, holding him in place, guiding him to move exactly as you pleased.
His grip on your ass slackened, shifting from possessive control to a softer hold, simply keeping you steady so you wouldn’t slip.
Your hips began rolling forward, seeking friction through the layers of fabric separating you. The movement drew a low, needy sound from Heeseung, who instinctively pressed you down against him, encouraging the rhythm.
Tired of the teasing, you let your lips wander down to his neck, claiming the sensitive skin that shuddered beneath your touch. The deliberate pace at which you explored him mirrored how his body slowly reclined with you pushing ever so slightly to sink it into the mattress, until Heeseung was completely laid out under you, at your mercy.
A devilish grin ghosted over your lips when it dawned at you the alignment you both had settled; perfectly sitting on top of the man who clearly revealed his opposition to hold control, leaving space for your dominance to appear in full display. 
Your hand briefly cupped Heeseung's cheek as your teeth grazed his prominent Adam’s apple, gently sucking the spot to soothe any lingering sting. His throat’s bulge bobbed as a quiet sigh escaped him, the sound drawing your fingers lower, tracing the defined line of his collarbone. You felt the firm texture of his bone beneath your fingertips, as your hips moved over his unmistakable hardness.
Another pleasant sound filled the dimly lit room, signaling the deepening of the night. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the passionate moment unfolding between you. 
You kept the pace agonizingly slow with your hips, your hands never staying still, mapping every inch of Heeseung’s subtly muscular body that tensed with each of your touches, from his biceps to his covered chest, until they gradually slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his stomach tighten under your fingertips. 
It was undeniable that this was affecting you too, your body burning with yearning, aching to remove the last barrier keeping your bodies apart, even though they were already so close.
You were so fucking turned on by everything; the tantalizing noises Heeseung ever so often let out, how he had closed his eyes and furrowed his forehead, lips ajar with breathy, low groans passing through, utterly consumed by the moment.
By now your panties were beyond ruined, drenched in your leaking arousal, the fabric clinging to your pussy with every subtle shift. It urged your body to respond, to stimulate yourself even faster, though it lingered deeper in the sweet tormention of anticipation rather than pushing you towards your actual release.
The rub you guided was more than intentional; your clit pressing what you deduced was Heeseung’s tip in calculated circles, the rigidness of his length easing your rhythm as you rocked back and forth.
In search of an improved position, you lifted your torso, knees bent and pressed against the bed, slotting Heeseung’s hips between them, granting easy access for your nails to shamelessly wander over his stomach. You also found better support for yourself in this new angle.
It was only then that you realized Heeseung had released your waist, letting his arms relax, though his grip on the sheets remained obvious, his knuckles whitening with each more intense roll of your hips.
You were completely unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts Heeseung was struggling to suppress, the inner battle not to completely surrender, knowing that doing so would mean having his orgasm far too soon. His tightly shut eyes weren’t simply a reaction to the pleasure; they were a desperate attempt to control the terror of losing himself and ruining the moment. Clutching the sheets grounded some rational part in him. 
Realizing you wouldn't stop anytime soon had him making the embarrassing decision to state the obvious. So amid the deafening silence, broken only by the soft moans from both of you, Heeseung’s voice sliced through.
“If you keep going, then–” he cut himself off with a shaky moan, his body betraying his words as his hips jerked upward, desperate to meet your grinding. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grip your waist and force you to keep moving – a choice he made himself. “Then I won’t last…”
“Then don’t.”
His heavy eyelids fluttered open, pupils blown wide with dazed confusion after your quick, yet steady reply. The second he caught the silent demand in your eyes his breath hitched, and a shiver visibly ran through him. “What… What do you mean?”
A slow smirk curled on your lips as you laced your fingers around his wrists, pinning them to the mattress near his handsome face with enough force to act as a reminder. Your hips rolled forward, deliberate and unhurried, dragging out every friction-filled second. The heat between you was stifling, and you swore you could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.
Heeseung’s gaze flickered between your piercing expression and the maddening rhythm of your hips, his flushed cheeks only growing redder. His lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his beautiful round eyes open, his parted lips spilling out breathy whimpers, while you relished every second of it.
“You think you can cum just from me riding you fully clothed, Hee?” 
Your explanation came in the form of an ask, a very filthy, lustful guided question, your velvety tone cursing through his nerves, erasing the straight thoughts that struggled to keep existing inside his head, his self-control pathetically slipping through his inner grasp.
All Heeseung could see and feel was you, torturing his mind, pulling him deeper into the haze of overwhelming desire.
“Fuck,” he breathed a curse, head tipping back as his hands clenched into fists beneath your grip. You were unreal – his dream girl made flesh, effortlessly destroying him without even taking off a single layer of clothing. “Fuck, I definitely can, but–”
Another interruption with a beautiful whimper. Oh, you were enjoying it so much; were you in heaven? Or hell? Either way, you didn’t want to leave. 
“But…?” You urged smoothly with a mellow tone, even cocking your head to the side as if that would add a charm for your wicked character, because you, more than anyone, knew what your next decision would be.
As expected, a strangled moan escaped Heeseung when you pressed down harder, his body reacting before he could think, his back arching slightly as his expression crumbled in pleasure. 
Heeseung tried desperately to find any rational reason amid the flood of thoughts you had filled his head with – anything beyond the humiliating and obvious truth that he didn't want to reach to cum just yet.
“But I don’t have spare clothes here,” he concluded in one go, voice trembling with equal parts desperation and restraint, since he was going through a strong rush of delightful emotions. 
You hummed, amused by the fact that he could still manage to form a coherent thought in his current state. Leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, you whispered, “Fair point, Hee,” before releasing your grip on his wrist. “Shall we solve this little problem, then?”
Without waiting for a response, you pulled away, beginning to undress your upper body, tossing your shirt carelessly onto the floor. Heeseung remained frozen in place, his hooded eyes blinking slowly, staring at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering heat of your body against his, trying to process your words.
It wasn’t until you softly murmured his nickname that his attention snapped back to you, his gaze shifting from confusion to unapologetic hunger as it took in your fully exposed form.
The gasp escaped him before he could stop it, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at his immediate, spontaneous reaction. The warmth in your chest contrasted with the lustful heat guiding your actions and clouding your thoughts. Heeseung was too cute for your poor heart. 
“Damn,” Heeseung whispered after propping himself up on his elbows to take you in better, his eyes filled with awe as he admired your body while you approached.
His gaze traced every inch of your skin, the curves he had so often dreamed about touching, your beautiful boobs, often where he rested his cheeks within your usual hug, now laid bare in front of him, like a perfect canvas for him to finally savor.
Heeseung’s eyes stopped on your uncovered pussy, darting back to your legs every once in a millisecond as if he didn’t know where to look. You watched as he ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting it, almost as if entranced with you. 
The compliment that followed was engulfed in sincerity, leaving no room for doubt about it. And you smiled in response.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
It was common for you to receive compliments; you were aware of your beauty and felt confident in it. However, receiving a compliment from Heeseung felt different, somehow more special, because it came from someone you cared about and liked. 
You worried about being pretty in Heeseung’s eyes. 
Thanks to the soft light in your room, you didn’t have to explain why your cheeks had flushed, knowing that from the distance Heeseung wouldn’t be able to notice.
For a brief moment you thought you would have to tell him to occupy the same form as you – naked. But thankfully he understood the message loud and clear after eye-fucking your body for a while, sitting up to remove his shirt with his back turned to you. You took the opportunity to grab a condom from your nightstand.
Heeseung stood up to unbutton his belt and slip out of his jeans, which easily fell from his hips, leaving him in just his black underwear.
You already knew he had broad shoulders and a slim waist – some of his clothing choices certainly helped accentuate that discovery, and what a delightful one it was. Seeing it up close, nonetheless, had you indescribably overreacting.
The subtle muscles of his back flexed and tightened with each movement, having you clenching your cunt without even noticing. The smooth line of his spine was being accentuated by the blended dim light and silver-moonlight, which got your breath stuck in your throat; witnessing Heeseung undressing himself felt like visiting a museum, where a carved sculpture, chiseled by the gods with the softest, kindest, and most gifted hands of Olympus lived.
Your mouth watered with an unmistakable urge to bite and taste every inch of that lightly bronzed skin.
“God. And you’re a fucking sight,” you breathed, your words barely audible but filled with hunger.
Heeseung turned to look at you holding back a grin. Your eyes locked as now you sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for the little show to finish. Your mischievous smile revealed every single naughty thought that passed through your mind, and there was no shame in it.
You pressed your teeth on your bottom lip when you got a better view of his chest, your gaze leisurely roaming, taking in every tiny detail until they stopped at the bulge in his underwear. And there, your mouth salivated harder.
Heeseung remained still, relishing the way you openly admired him; the truth behind your ravenous eyes unveiled between the two of you, heightening the heat that was becoming nearly unbearable. It was clear how badly you desired him, and this had an undeniable effect on his cock, growing harder every second, pulsing with the need of some relief. 
Being adored wasn’t exactly something new to Heeseung, but he could certainly say that the way you expressed it stirred parts of him – parts he not only kept hidden from almost everyone, but was more than eager to explore with you.
And then, you purred, “Come here, hm?”
But instead of letting Heeseung come closer, you, yourself, shifted on the bed, moving onto all fours before deliberately crawling towards him, your gaze unwavering and charged, never breaking as you drew nearer. Heeseung was utterly stunned, gulping down the lump on his throat as he watched the unfolding filthy scene.
When you finally reached his handsome and ridiculously hot figure, you stopped, uplifting your torso to get on your knees and align perfectly with his height. Now face to face Heeseung finally let out the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding, his legs threatening to falter because, fucking shit, you, with your unyielding eyes and sexy demeanor, was tearing his resistance apart, breaking deliciously each part of his cohesive existence.
Oblivious to the actual state of Heeseung, your fingers reached out, barely ghosting over the sensitive flesh of his waist as you murmured extremely close to his ear, “Let me make you feel good.”
Heeseung exhaled sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze darkened, flickering between your neck and your bare boobs. For a second, he hesitated, hands halting mid-air because the tension between you two was nearly suffocating and he feared scaring you with his neediness.
Would it be okay to touch you, now that you were naked? What if he exceeded any silent boundaries he didn’t manage to catch?
Fuck. You looked so damn beautiful with the lunar glow against your skin, your gleaming eyes dripping with arousal and hunger as they roamed over his features when you leaned back, drinking in each quarter with care and attention. Heeseung felt seen, cherished even.
With the way your fingertips traced his abdomen simply to position your hands there, patiently waiting for a green sign, it quickly shattered whatever restraint he had left.
With a quiet, breathy groan Heeseung closed the gap, his hands finding your jawline, fingers pressing into your skin with a need so raw it sent shivers down your spine. You also moaned against his lips, his tongue searching for yours to deepen the contact.
By a not-so-gentle reminder of its painful neglect, Heeseung felt his sensitive dick twitch inside his underwear when you pushed him towards the bed, easily maneuvering his body to return to the previous position you both were in. Your thigh brushed exactly on his length and elicited an immediate moan.
But before you could settle on top of him with your lips still attached to each other, Heeseung broke away with an aching whisper, breathless.
“I’m so fucking hard.”
You lifted your head enough to meet his gaze, cocking it to the side in feigned confusion – you had heard him perfectly well. “Hm?”
He looked so cute, his brow furrowed and those wide eyes of his looking at you with longing, mixed with a trace of desperation. It was clear that the said desperation was only growing, becoming undeniable as he jerked his hips upwards, seeking contact with your bare pussy.
With a playful smile, you pushed yourself apart slightly, watching him groan in frustration; but even with the firm grip on your waist, he didn’t force you downwards. 
“Don’t make me wait longer…”
You raised an eyebrow, biting your lower lip as a thought crossed your mind. You had to test the waters of a conversation that had yet to be broached between the two of you  –  this was still your first night, after all.
“Where are your manners, Heeseung?”
Your voice held no real reprimand, but Heeseung couldn’t help feeling the urge to respond properly, just as much. He sighed a curse, the sound shaky as you hovered your lips over the abused skin of his neck.
“Fuck,” Heeseung had completely lost himself as you moved your hips to press against his without a warning, wincing due to the feel of your cunt so close, so deliberately teasing him, yet ridiculously distant.
His eyes squeezed shut, lips pursing tightly together in an effort to suppress the pathetic sounds threatening to escape. Heat rushed to his face, the flush of embarrassment coloring his skin as he realized how effortlessly you had taken control of him; the way you wore your behavior, so assertively and confident, was making him feel vulnerable in the best way possible. 
Heeseung’s voice cracked when he finally let out a frustrated but, crucially, submissive murmur. “Sorry… Please. Just don’t make me wait any longer– I need you. I’m so hard. Please…”
The waters had been tested, proving themselves warm and inviting. Heeseung responded well to your teasing and demeanor, his reactions fueling your confidence. So, you took the plunge, leaning in until your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear. 
“Good boy.”
A strange wave crashed through his body the moment his brain processed those syllables, piecing them together into a phrase that sent a jolt straight to his core. Good boy? Fuck. Heeseung barely managed to suppress a whimper, his muscles tensing as if trying to contain the way it unraveled him.
Being called that shouldn’t affect him so much, but how could he blame himself? You looked hot, sounded hotter, and the way you said it, so effortlessly sultry, made something in him snap. He realized then that he craved being your good boy more than he was willing to admit. If he weren’t so aware of his own self-destructive tendencies he would have half a mind to set your voice as his ringtone, only to hear it over and over. But he knew better. Knew he would end up ridiculously hard every time his phone rang.
Your wicked smirk told him everything – you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Enjoying the palpable control you had over his being, you leaned back just enough to catch the flicker of change on his flushed face. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, swimming with undivided attention and unspoken need. A heavy pulse throbbed beneath you, and instinctively, you clenched in response.
With a mocking tilt of your head, you let your voice drop to a sarcastic, almost bitter tone, “Let’s take off this last piece, shall we?” You motioned to his underwear, helping to remove it once he obeyed you. “I don’t want to make you wait any longer.” 
Heeseung grasped the scorn in words right away, the feigned sense of authority you offered hanging in the air and, ironically enough, elicited a breathy chuckle from his throat. 
It seemed Heeseung had finally found the woman he had always dreamed of – just as you felt a thrill coursing through your veins at the sight of a man so willing to accept your demanding behavior in the bedroom.
Your gaze dropped briefly to Heeseung’s lower body, eyes catching the sight of his cock standing angry and painfully hard, its impatience nearly palpable as it waited to be enveloped by your warmth. With a mental note to appreciate that part better later, you focused simply on putting the condom, jerking off a few times just to make sure it was right. 
Positioned just right, you aligned his leaking tip with your pulsing entrance, supporting yourself by pressing your hands firmly against his chest. The subtle brush of skin against skin had Heeseung letting out a shaky sigh, his hands that had once held your hips now rising to rest gently on your waist, trembling under the weight of anticipation.
He wasn’t just sensitive; he was on edge – nervous in more ways than one. He wasn’t sure how long he would last given the teasing foreplay, and with you pushing him to the brink, he wasn’t confident he would be able to go much longer than a few minutes. But the thing was, he wanted to last. He wanted to make a good impression, to show that he had the stamina and endurance to handle whatever you asked of him. He had lasted this long, so surely, he could hold on a little longer, right?
What he didn’t realize was that the idea of reaching the peak so quickly excited you just as much as the thought of lasting. Knowing that you could reduce him to the point where he would cum fast sent an odd, pleasurable thrill deep into your stomach.
Your eyes locked, Heeseung’s wide-round ones full of both eagerness and caution. Meanwhile, you maintained your poise, your charisma unwavering.
“Shit,” you muttered softly as you sank down, feeling him fill you completely.
You almost felt ridiculous for forcing your eyes to stay open, but you couldn’t help it.
To savor the sight of Heeseung’s lips slightly parted, his breath hitching as his lashes fluttered and his head tipped back was incomparable. The sight of his exposed, sweaty neck, the prominent Adam’s apple jutting out in an almost sinful way, was too much. Without realizing it, you clenched around him.
“Fuck,” Heeseung cursed back, trying to push you further down, hoping to reach the deepest part of you.
At first, you allowed him to guide you without resistance, the sensation of him fully inside you making a pleasurable sigh slip from your lips. But as Heeseung attempted to push you into movement without waiting for your adjustment you steadied yourself, securely resisting as a silent reminder. Just to make sure, you verbalized.
“Nuh-uh,” a mischievous grin curled your lips as you looked down at him, now with open eyes, pouting and frowning at you in a blend of frustration and confusion. “It’s cute how much you think you’re in control.”
His gaze faltered as your words fully sank in, the realization hitting him like a slow, delicious burn – he had absolutely idea what he had just gotten himself into. And, God, he wanted it. 
Of course, you would set the pace. Of course, you would call the shots. And him? He would take whatever you were willing to give. That’s what he deserved – what any man would be lucky to have. A woman like you, deciding exactly what to do with him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice small, almost shaky. As if repenting for his misstep, he hesitated before slowly removing his hands from where they had rested, leaving them suspended in the air, an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
You found it adorable.
A soft, amused chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His irises, warm and desperate, watched you intently, hanging onto your next move with delicious longing. You reached for his wrists, gently guiding them up before pinning them to the mattress, securing them above his head.
Something about the action made Heeseung’s skin prickle with a new kind of excitement. It felt foreign but in the best way – like dipping his toes into uncharted territory and finding himself desperate to dive in. He wanted more. Feeling your warmth around him wasn’t enough. The snug heat of your walls was intoxicating, but it lacked the friction he was beginning to ache for.
“Relax,” you mused, maintaining eye contact as you read the conflict in his gaze. “I’m not that cruel.”
And with that, you rolled your hips forward, then back, deliberately slow, setting a languid rhythm that promised to build.
A guttural moan tore from Heeseung’s throat, as if he had been holding it in for God knows how long. His arms twitched, instinctively testing your grip. He could’ve easily broken free, his strength alone was enough to flip the entire situation in his favor. But he didn’t. He stayed there, restrained beneath you, completely at your mercy.
And knowing that Heeseung, tall, strong, capable, could take control at any moment, but chose not to? That alone drove you absolutely insane.
With a newfound determination – one guided by the desire to give that man just as much pleasure as he was giving you – you quickened your pace. Your own sounds spilled from your lips, unrestrained, unchecked, lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.
To Heeseung it was nothing short of a celestial choir. The delicate pitch of your moans, the breathy whimpers slipping through in between sent shivers down his spine. Every sound you made felt like a melody crafted just for him, threading through his veins, coiling low in his stomach, making it near impossible to think straight.
He did his best to meet your movements, hips twitching as he attempted to thrust upward, but the position did him no favors; his efforts were stifled, his range of motion limited, and as if that weren’t enough to set him on the edge, the sinful sight of your breasts bouncing right in front of him, so close yet just out of reach, only worsened his predicament.
“Fuck,” Heeseung groaned, his voice laced with frustration and raw need. A slow, burning heat spread through his body, intensifying with each calculated movement of your hips, the sensation pooling deep in his lower stomach.
Your gaze drifted to his face, taking in the way his features twisted in pleasure. His eyes barely managed to stay open, rolling back as the squeeze of your walls tightened around him, gripping him in a way that made his breath hitch.
Your hips now moved with purpose, with intention; the way you shifted your motions between rocking back and forth, to bouncing, to drawing circles, making sure his dick touched every part of your warm and slick interior was maddening. 
And Heeseung’s body ached for yours just as much. 
“Please–” The first actual plea fell past his parted lips, a cry tone covering each syllable with an attractive lust. “Don't stop. I’m getting close–”
Defying his request, however, you decided to slowly decrease your pace to something that drew Heeseung way too close to completely losing it. He looked at you like you were crazy, though he also had the chance to appreciate the faint light that bathed the room, the silver moonlight gleaming on your skin like an ethereal, priceless painting.
Your actions, on the other hand, were evil as hell.
In between a soft giggle, you leaned forward to approach his lips, muttering, “You want that, don't you?”
A silent nod and one more broken, whispered “Please,” from him graced your ears, eliciting your smile to grow wickedly. Then, you brushed your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, barely there, just enough to tease.
As you pulled away, you caught his bottom lip between yours, sucking it gently before letting it slip free with a soft, wet pop. The momentary loss of contact had Heeseung chasing after you, his body acting on pure instinct, pathetically desperate, but you only watched, amused at his demeanor.
You released his wrists, only to guide his warm hands to the connection of your waist and thighs, your own palms covering them to ensure they stayed exactly where you wanted.
With your back straight and posture unwavering, your body went completely still as you lifted yourself ever so slightly – just enough to leave only the pulsing tip of his length nestled inside you, offering no friction, no relief.
“I'm not moving, Hee…” The teasing lilt in your voice was so blatant it was almost cruel.
Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze roaming over you, trying to ground himself in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers. But it was useless, he was already too far gone, lost in the pleasure that you so effortlessly denied him.
With a voice like silk, dripping with wicked delight, you murmured, “Show me how desperate you are.”
Heeseung’s breath hitched, his lightly teary eyes darting up to meet yours before flickering downward, lingering on the tantalizing view of your bare chest, and finally settling on where your bodies were still joined.
There was a flash of hesitation, of confusion and innocence, but the moment he caught the knowing smirk on your lips, the way you remained idle, expectant, understanding dawned on him.
“Come on, Hee,” you urged, rolling your hips just enough to offer the barest hint of friction, a mere whisper of what he craved. “Be a good boy for me, mmh?”
Heeseung's grip on your sides tightened with fervor, his darkened gaze searching yours for confirmation – a silent plea to ensure this was exactly what you wanted. The subtle nod you gave was all he needed. Bracing himself, he propped his knees up, pressing his feet into the mattress for support before thrusting into you.
The first stroke was tentative, his body shuddering as he fully sheathed himself inside you once more, adjusting to the scorching heat that enveloped him. But once he settled, his hesitation melted into determination. Heeseung seized your hips, pulling you down with the same force he drove upward, setting a relentless rhythm that filled the air with the sinful melody of skin meeting skin, mingling with the desperate sounds spilling from your lips.
Your hands instinctively sought stability against the headboard, but the moment Heeseung found that sweet spot inside you, angled just right, you abandoned any attempt. Instead, you melted against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moans and breathless whimpers vibrating against his sweat-slicked skin. Your fingers tangled in his messy strands, clutching for purchase as pleasure spiraled higher.
“Hee–Heeseung,” you nearly sobbed, your voice trembling, a blissful hum following right after. “Right there. Right fucking there,” you gritted out, laced with a warning tone so he wouldn’t dare to stop. 
And he wouldn’t. Not when you squeezed around him like that. Not when your voice turned so sweetly desperate near his ear. Not when he felt you tremble with each merciless thrust straight into that spot.
The coil felt impossibly tight, the telltale heat building in his core, threatening to snap at any second. Heeseung was helpless to fight it, his release crashing over him with overwhelming intensity; his entire body tensed as he slammed his hips up one final time, holding you there, buried to the hilt, shaking as he moaned your name with shameless abandon. 
The way he gripped you, the way he trembled beneath you, the guttural sounds spilling from his lips and, fuck, how firmly he pressed right into your cervix was more than enough to push you over the edge. You shattered around him, clenching so hard it pulled another ragged groan from his throat, your own cries of pleasure filling the space as you unraveled together.
Heeseung filled the condom inside of your sensitiveness and sent a wave of aftershock through your body, the pleasant high still coating your senses
Heavy, ragged breaths were all that remained in the aftermath, your thighs burning with exhaustion, your body too spent to move. Heeseung was no better – completely dazed, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure.
At some point, Heeseung genuinely wondered if he had just died; his entire body slackened after holding so much tension and releasing it through an overwhelming orgasm, a blissful numbness overtaking his limbs. And honestly? If this was the afterlife, he wouldn’t mind staying a little longer.
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Monday morning felt as ordinary as any other – except it wasn’t. Not really. Because, apparently, your new normal now involved making out with Heeseung in the parking lot, tucked away behind his car like a couple of reckless teenagers sneaking around.
The difference? You were both adults. Professors, no less. The same ones who had caught students kissing in this very spot more times than you could count.
“Will I see you later?” You asked, voice deliberately sweet, a playful melody slipping through.
It was a side of you that only surfaced around Heeseung, one he seemed to enjoy, judging by the way he looked at you – eyes filled with something warm, something fond.
His hands rested securely on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders, fingers idly playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Everything was in its rightful place.
“Not sure if I can, babe.”
Babe.
The pet name had rolled off his tongue for the first time that morning when he greeted you, as effortless as the kiss that followed, although he had cheeks burning in shyness afraid of your reaction. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind one bit; not when it sent a pleasant flutter through your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound of it. It was far too nice of a feeling to brush off.
You pouted, though you didn’t push for an answer. “That’s okay.”
Still, Heeseung felt the need to explain. “I’ve got a meeting with the principal.”
The mere mention of that title made your heart jolt and a brief grimace filled your features. Your gaze darted around on instinct, as if expecting the man to materialize out of thin air. Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused with your adorable reaction. 
“Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out?” He teased, tilting your chin up so you would meet his gaze again. His thumb brushed over your jaw in a way that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. “I’m the new hire, after all. Your job is way more secure than mine.”
“Which is exactly why I’m being careful,” you shot back, your playful smirk making him shake his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t wanna have to visit you at another school.”
“Idiot,” he huffed, rolling his eyes before kissing you again, shutting you up effectively, as your giggle got lost amidst the touch.
That newfound intimacy with Heeseung was sudden, yet it could easily become a routine – one you would never tire of, nor worry about growing dull. There was an undeniable clarity in how every touch, every exchange with him felt like it would only surprise and satisfy you more than the last. The way he held you, how he enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth and quiet affection, was something you allowed yourself to sink into without resistance. 
The previous day had been an unintentional experiment, one that had answered questions you hadn’t even realized you had. 
Truth be told, your interest in Heeseung had sparked the very first time you met. The tension, the lingering glances, the way your breath hitched in his presence – it had all been telling signs that liking him was inevitable. Falling for him? Even more so. He not only embraced your personality but adapted to it so effortlessly, just as you found yourself welcoming every meticulous, endearing detail about him. Falling for Heeseung felt easy. Natural. Maybe even fated.
Kissing him was like dissolving into an ocean of calm and reassurance you hadn’t known you craved – or needed. Kissing him was slowly, irrevocably, becoming everything.
The chime of your phone interrupted the moment, the alarm you had set reminding you that it was time to head inside. Yes. You had both arrived early just to steal a few moments alone, and yes, you had actually set a timer to make sure you wouldn’t lose track of time.
As you pulled away, your gaze immediately sought his, desperate to capture one last glimpse of that breathtaking face.
“Well, guess I’ll see you around,” you sighed, lips jutting out in another small pout. The idea of not seeing him again for the rest of the day left a dull ache in your chest, and in the past, that feeling might have unsettled you.
But here, with his hands still firm on your waist, grounding you, you could only think of how much more you wanted to stay and feel everything he could yield to you.
Heeseung smirked before pecking your lips quickly, his eyes glinting with something that was equal parts fondness and longing – with just a hint of something else. Something that told you he, too, wished he could spend the rest of the day with you. Or maybe all the days after that.
“See you, babe.”
So saying your classes had been boring ever since was an understatement. Sure, you loved what you did. You had studied and dedicated yourself from day one to get where you were. Designing projects, planning assignments, even crafting exams gave you a very particular thrill that nothing else quite matched – until Heeseung came along.
Not having him around left you restless, almost anxious, like counting the minutes wasn’t enough to settle you. You needed him here. Every single second.
The problem was that work consumed both of you in ways neither could escape. As a new hire, Heeseung was still juggling personal studies while handling the avalanche of subjects thrown onto his plate to deal with. You, on the other hand, already a few steps ahead in the hierarchy, carried the weight of being a solid reference for others, staying committed to improving every day, striving towards eventually securing a senior position.
Making a name for yourself in academia demanded everything – writing papers, conducting deeper, more intensive research. You had carved out time in your routine to focus on it. But now, all you could focus on was Heeseung.
Heeseung was affecting your emotions, your life, and your behavior. There was no denying it.
Throughout your life, you had always been decisive, firm in your choices, knowing what was best for you without hesitation. Sure, there was a level of flexibility and freedom, but even that was deeply tied to your essence. You grew up in spaces that tried to tame you, but that only made you more aware of your own vastness, the greatness you wanted to embrace.
There were no second thoughts. Not frequently, at least. There was no other way to be yourself without shutting out external noise, without disregarding the opinions of those who barely knew you. That built a barrier, one you had come to see as normal, where only a select few ever glimpsed your vulnerability. The thought of being seen in your most hesitant, insecure state was terrifying.
Then, Heeseung.
He made you vulnerable, somehow, to be open about worries you would usually brush off and avoid talking about, and it never felt forced; it was effortless, natural, he genuinely wanted to listen, and even help.
At the same time, he made you self-conscious about things you had never cared for before. Your hair, your outfit choices – would they draw the same reaction he always gave you? That slow, shameless gaze, eyes dark with attraction, followed by a compliment so sweet it almost rivaled the warmth in his own deep, espresso-colored stare.
He had you questioning if you fit into the mold of what he might want, never realizing that, to him, you as you were had always been enough.
At home, staring at the empty page of the research paper you were supposed to be working on, your mind was nowhere near academic focus. It was filled with the longing to have him close. No ulterior motives, no underlying intentions, just his presence. Just him. The warmth of his scent in the air, grounding you, centering you.
A thought lingered in the back of your mind. Was it too much to wish you were already living together? Or at least close enough to have him around all the time? You could picture it so clearly: the faint smell of soap clinging to the air as he walked into your office, setting a fresh cup of coffee on your desk, dressed in cozy, oversized clothes, his usual soft expression in place, trying to coax you to bed with him using those beautiful bambi-eyes.
Fuck.
Your fingers curled around your phone instinctively, his contact already pulled up before you even processed the action. But just as quickly, you let out a sharp breath and placed it back down, screen-side down on the desk. Running your hands over your temples, you exhaled, forcing yourself to focus back on the laptop in front of you.
In terms of relationships, balance had never been your strong suit if you tried to be honest; not knowing when to shut out emotions and focus solely on work because of affectual interests, or when to let yourself indulge in personal desires – especially now, when Heeseung had completely messed with your ability to separate the two. 
Because everything with him felt inevitable. The meetings, the glances, the desire. And whatever this was, this unnamed thing between you, it was starting to feel dangerously close to building a place to settle that thing called love. 
On a side note, there was this ongoing feeling of going too fast, of overdoing. The kiss was alright in terms of period, but the sex only two days later? Wasn’t it too… exaggerated? Did it really please him?
You were always so sure of yourself, yet, with Heeseung, you were walking a tightrope, afraid of losing him or losing yourself in the process. Sex with him had only intensified things, your mind spinning amidst a dense cloud of thoughts. Whatever fragile restraints had been holding you back from falling completely had snapped, like some unseen force was screaming at you to open your eyes.
He was exactly what you wanted.
But what if it all fell apart? What if he didn’t want anything serious? The doubts tried to creep in, but the image of his charming smile fought to erase them. Heeseung.
The man who carried a quiet, bashful aura but sometimes put on a confident front, only to fumble shortly after, making you laugh at how effortlessly endearing he was.
The man who hesitated to touch you but, when he did, held you with certainty, with possession, as if having you close was the only thing he was ever sure of.
The man who memorized your coffee order and would show up in the morning with a steaming cup, shrugging casually as he muttered, “The morning coffee here kinda sucks. A pretty girl once taught me that. So, I got you a real one.”
The man who read you so easily, as if every little part of you was worth memorizing. 
“Damn,” you muttered under your breath, the sound of your own voice startling you in the silence that had settled over the past few hours – save for the rustling leaves outside and the mess inside your mind.
You bit down on your lower lip, your chest tightening with a feeling you could only name as longing. There was no other explanation. You missed Heeseung.
After days of sneaking moments together before classes, and barely having time to exchange messages in between, Heeseung had become part of your routine, fitting like a moon pulling the tide just right, a slow dance of heartbeats syncing. And you wanted him to stay in it.
But then came the tide of uncertainties. Would he slip away just as quickly as he had settled in? Were you moving too fast? Would it hurt to dive headfirst into something so intense? Yet, Heeseung wasn’t shallow waters, you wouldn’t hit rock bottom if you chose to dive into the depth of him.
Still, amidst the inner turmoil, the voice of reason, one that years of therapy had helped you shape, resurfaced: you wouldn’t know unless you asked. If he wasn’t truthful, that was on him, but all you could do was trust the words he chose to give you.
And Heeseung had never given you a reason to doubt him. There was no air of deception in his presence, no undertone of dishonesty in his words. His gaze held sincerity, his smile radiated warmth. He seemed genuine in everything he did, in every subtle move, in every interaction. In the way his lips ghosted over yours, the way he pulled you close, the way he let you take the lead more often than not.
He was just… too good.
You barely noticed your fingers sliding across your phone screen until you found his contact, dialing before you could second-guess yourself. No warning, no message, just your voice reaching out to him in the thick of the night, unfiltered, unguarded.
With each ring, your heart pounded harder, matching the steady rhythm of it. And when Heeseung finally answered, his voice rough with sleep yet laced with that familiar tenderness he always carried when it came to you, your breath hitched. No explanations, no preamble. Without thinking, without even registering how late it was or that you had probably woken him, you asked.
“Do you think we're going too fast?”
On the other end of the line, Heeseung, who had just settled into the comfort of his bed after reviewing his lessons for the next day, immediately sat up to give you his full attention. Instead of probing further, he picked up on the underlying worry in your voice, the slight hint of anxiety, and chose his words carefully.
“No, I don’t think we are. Honestly, we’re just right, babe,” he said, with a double meaning carefully embedded not just to respond to your question but to remove any lingering doubts. His voice, as soft as ever, was clear when he added, “What made you think we’re moving too fast, love?”
Love.
“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You muttered under your breath, unable to suppress the immediate reaction that his endearment caused. Another one added to the collection, this one carrying a different weight – one that sank deep in your stomach, settling in your chest in a surreal... but strangely comforting way.
Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions; a tremor of apprehension coursing through his veins, yet warmth blooming in his chest, right where his heart pounded just a little too fast, a little too hard. He couldn’t deny the pet name had rolled off his tongue without forethought, slipping past his lips as naturally as a heartbeat. 
He waited in the silence, not just because he feared he had messed up, but because he genuinely wanted you to clarify the reason behind your sudden call and the unexpected question. He respected your need to reflect before responding.
But the silence... It was growing deafening.
“I– I don’t know what’ve gotten to me, actually,” you finally confessed, leaning back in your chair with a sigh. Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of your own words before they left your mouth. “I think it’s just a fear of losing what we have, mixed with a hesitation to dive into something that’s giving me some uncertainty.”
Now it was Heeseung’s turn to let silence speak for him. Uncertainty? Was that what he was making you feel? Unsure? The thought alone sent a heavy weight crashing down on his chest, his stomach dropping as a chill spread through his body, seeping into his bones like ice water. His throat tightened, the unspoken question lodged there, thick and heavy, pressing against his vocal cords until he finally forced it out.
“Am I giving you uncertainty, Y/N?”
The change in Heeseung’s voice, from soft to serious, was evident and sent an instant wave of panic through you.
“No!” You responded urgently, your voice rising a few notes, and you automatically straightened up in your chair as though it would help to elucidate what you meant. “No, not you. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I trust everything you do and show me through your actions and words. I trust what you say. I trust how you feel. I trust you.”
“It’s good to know,” he replied, his voice softer again, “because I trust you too. In every way.”
There was a thin, delicate line between the weight of his words, a line that stretched from your physical connection previously explored to the deeper trust you were building together. You both were learning how to create a comfortable space for one another, even though it sometimes came with its own set of challenges and discomfort.
Another moment of silence stretched out between you two as though the air itself had become weighed down by invisible clouds of tension. It was like a storm had suddenly rolled in, filling the room with a suffocating pressure that made it difficult to breathe; your lungs felt tight, struggling to maintain a normal rhythm.
But Heeseung… Heeseung was the one who read you once again. It was as if he could read every chapter of your life with a quiet understanding, his fingers tracing each line of your story with such ease. It wasn’t about knowing what came next or predicting the end, it was about savoring the journey, knowing that each new chapter would only lead him to admire you more and want you just as much.
Breaking the silence, his voice was gentle when he said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming in a few.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, your shoulders shifting slightly as you did so, “Yeah. There is.”
Heeseung had fully reclined against the headboard of his bed by now, his legs stretched out and subtly fidgeting with a subtle, almost sweet kind of nervousness – the kind that felt eerily, yet delightfully similar to having a crush.
Heeseung flushed easily whenever you looked at him for too long, and quickly averted his gaze when you crossed paths in the hall, afraid that his emotions might spill over and give him away. His ears would go red every time you complimented him, and the memories of the night you two shared would replay in his mind over and over again, stirring sensations that were both tender and a little... impolite.
And to top it all off, wrapping it up together, it was impossible for him to hide the way his heart raced at just the thought of seeing you, let alone touching you, kissing you, or being in more intimate, vulnerable spaces with you – not only sexually but in terms of personal experiences, too.
Exploring different aspects of life with you sounded exciting, he could feel his pulse quickening with some kind of thrill he couldn’t remember experiencing before. Right now, however, the throbbing beats of his heart signaled dread, pointing out that he wasn’t just excited to continue on that path with you, but he feared losing the possibility to do so. 
“I trust you, Hee.” Simply to be certain, you repeated yourself. “But I can’t lie that this scares me to some extent,” Heeseung hummed in agreement for you to keep talking. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t think I ever cared this much about how things were going, y’know? I never cared if I should wear a color that someone thinks looks pretty on me. Or that I should act some way… Or even if I– if I had sex before actually dating someone. I don’t have a problem with that.”
On the other side, Heeseung blushed. It was the actual first time that “dating” was brought into a conversation between you two and although it was the natural course of relationships, he never thought about having to ask you to be his girlfriend.
It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it was more than obvious that he was with you and only you. Hearing those words, though, shed light on his thoughts, and he made a mental note to plan something special and ask you to be his girlfriend.
Heeseung was willing to listen to every little concern you had and to offer you the security you needed. And if that meant simply asking you to be his, then he would do so with all the joy in the world.
“And then you call me love.”
There it was, the root of the issue. Heeseung sighed softly, but it wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion from what you were saying, it was more of a realization, a moment where everything clicked and he finally understood what had been causing all these thoughts to swirl around.
“Y/N,” he said gently, your name flowing from his lips like honey. You hummed in response. “First of all, I’m sorry for not clarifying my intentions better. I don’t think we’re moving too fast. In fact, I really like our dynamic and how we seem to make things work between us.”
Hearing his side of things, without having to imagine terrible monsters in your head, was freeing. You finally understood what set Heeseung apart from the others: he made a point to communicate and, most importantly, to listen to you.
“And... I called you ‘love’ not because I love you. Not yet.” Instead of the weight of heartache and unrelenting tension, you... relaxed. There was no pressure for any rush. “I called you love because I think it’s a cute nickname, and I do want to love you, Y/N. Eventually.” He paused, his voice thick with sincerity. “I think love is something that’s built, crafted little by little, by both sides. I don’t say it if I don’t mean it.”
A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “I want to love you too, Hee.”
“So let’s take this at our pace. How does that sound?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, as though his thoughts had passed the barrier of caution and were now spilling out freely. “I want to kiss you every morning before work because I like you. But you don’t have to feel pressured to like me back.”
“I do like you, though,” you murmured quietly, almost like it was a secret.
Heeseung chuckled softly, a low, subtle sound that perfectly matched the soothing atmosphere that had settled around you both. “I’m thankful then.”
A gentle silence fell over the moment, your heart racing, but not from anxiety. It was because, for the first time, you felt like you had found someone truly important, someone special and irreplaceable, who seemed willing to build something real with you.
If Heeseung read you like his favorite book, you wanted to create an incredible story with him. And with that thought, you asked, under the moonlight that spilled through your curtains.
“Let’s start our chapter one. Shall we?”
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“I love kissing you, oh my God,” Heeseung whispered against your mouth, words muffed as you pressed your bodies together.
With only a few minutes left before the lecture you both were set to deliver, a sudden wave of nervousness crashed over you, hitting deep as the realization settled: soon, you would be sharing the stage to talk about an extremely important topic with the very man who had starred in your most sinful dreams. Dreams that, over the past few weeks, had shifted from mere fantasy into breathtaking reality.
It was a relatively large lecture in terms of audience size, and while it was the kind of event you genuinely enjoyed with a dynamic exchange of ideas between the speakers, with the audience observing the unfolding of thoughts, you had been assigned as the main host.
Heeseung, still new to this environment, was positioned as the co-host, with you acting as his guide, leading the discussion and stepping in if needed.
Not once did you doubt Heeseung’s abilities. Over the past few days, both of you had dedicated intense yet careful effort to reviewing every key point, ensuring that nothing was left unpolished. That was when you noticed just how similar he was to you. He preferred to structure his speech around key topics, allowing the conversation to flow naturally, trusting in his knowledge rather than rigidly following a script.
And, God, was he hot when he read through his notes with furrowed eyebrows in deep concentration, glasses perched perfectly on his round, yet pointy nose, those dark eyes scanning the words with precise focus. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly attractive he looked while working.
Furthermore, Heeseung showed signs of apprehension as well during the minutes before starting it; added with how delectable he looked in that dress shirt and gold-framed glasses and to kill two birds with one stone, you lured the said man into following you to a nearby bathroom, using the excuse of needing his help to grab some materials you forgot in another class.
In reality, your plan was to grab his collar and pull him into the confined space to share some kisses. And of course, the kisses were leading to something way more far than you expected.
Heeseung had discovered that kissing you was his favorite sport, and even as his lungs burned and begged for relief, he would rather lose himself in your lips than pull away. Dying in your arms because he couldn’t bear to let you go sounded both poetic and achingly genuine.
Then, there was almost a shift, as though a switch clicked, and the kiss would grow deeper and more wanting. It remained slow, perfectly slow and affectionate, but carried an undeniable neediness. Hands once resting respectfully on waists and necks would begin to wander, indulging in the freedom to explore lustful territories, and Heeseung’s body would start to betray him, throbbing in anticipation. 
That one kiss, however, was escalating quickly into a frantic rhythm, heading towards a heated and intense atmosphere far too inappropriate for a workplace. But, on your part, you seemed to care little, feeling a burning need for him like never before.
It was an odd sensation, this overwhelming desire to have Heeseung inside you in the most sinful way possible. The kiss, which had started as a means to calm your nerves, quickly morphed into a chaotic tangle of hands ruffling clothes and hair, desperately grabbing at any inch of covered and exposed skin as a way to relieve the growing arousal between you two. Breaths intertwined in a fiery rhythm, each exhale more desperate than the last.
“Fuck,” you moaned against Heeseung’s lips as his large hands gripped your ass, squeezing with an urgency that made your head spin and your breath to hitch. 
Your beautiful noise triggered an electric pulse that shot straight to Heeseung’s arousal state, causing his dick to become increasingly stiff, the fabric around it starting to feel suffocating. He pushed you back against the sink’s counter, lifting you effortlessly and seating you on the edge, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
Your fingers gripped his face tightly, almost as if you were afraid of losing him, weaving into his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands that had grown just enough to become your new addiction. Heeseung’s touch was like a drug, each caress making it harder to pull away from him, as if losing yourself amidst his brown locks would somehow break the spell.
His hands roamed lower, exploring with a quiet urgency, trying to trace every inch of you without leaving actual marks; your thighs were his favorite place to lose himself and in any other given moment he would definitely be buried deep between them.
Seeking a break to allow your breaths to find a steady rhythm, Heeseung trailed his lips down your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. Yet, his movements were slightly hindered by the persistent frame of his glasses, which kept getting in the way , nudging against your skin, slipping down his nose, and frustrating his efforts to fully indulge in the moment. 
Although he struggled to ignore, he made sure one of his hands remained firmly planted on the marble surface behind you, ensuring you wouldn't lose balance, while the other wandered shamelessly over your thigh, fingertips tracing the fabric of your tailored slacks with deliberate intent.
“You look so fucking good in these,” he murmured between wet, heated kisses, his lips mapping out the sensitive spot on your neck he already knew too well.
A soft, breathy chuckle escaped you as you tilted your head back, granting him full access, your own fingers getting lost amidst his hair, pulling him closer. But just as quickly as the amusement flickered across your face, it melted into an expression contorted in pleasure, body betraying you.
“I always wear these…” You managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.
Heeseung let out a low giggle against your skin, a sinful sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Exactly,” he mused, voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re always so fucking hot.”
Without even realizing it, your hips rolled forward, chasing the friction your body so desperately craved. And it was only then, as a deep heat pooled low in your stomach, that you became fully aware of just how ruined your panties already were. You were wet and needy for something, for someone. Precisely, for Heeseung. 
Having his touch so close to your pulsing cunt made it difficult not to get more demanding of contact, to succumb into whatever he was willing to give you, so you guided your command. 
“Help me remove it.”
Heeseung didn’t question further – he didn’t have to. Not when you had made your intentions crystal clear as your hand trailed down to unbutton your pants, fingers working decisively and quickly. Without hesitation, you reached for his hand, leading it to the waistband of your pants and urging him to tug them down, silently inviting him to take things beyond mere kisses.
The air was thicker than ever when Heeseung halted his kisses on your neck and saw your bare thighs as well as a glimpse of the wet spot in your panties, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. His body reacted immediately, the sight setting every nerve on fire and making it impossible to focus on anything else other than your pussy.
His lips fell ajar, whispering ragged breaths that rawly exposed his desire; the clenched jaw also was an indicator he was getting just as needy, and his cock growing heavier and harder inside his underwear was barely containable. 
“I want your fingers,” within a murmur, you revealed what you wanted once realization hit you about Heeseung. He was about to get on his knees in order to be at the height of your pulsing core, his eyes locked with it as if he was in trance, but you didn’t have time to enjoy a proper head. 
Besides, that part of his body was definitely one of your biggest weaknesses. 
Heeseung looked at you with that mesmerizing gaze, filled with a type of confusion and innocence that you only met in them, where somehow it molded a perfect fuckable expression that gnawed at your necessity of ruining it.
Then, you pulled the hand resting in your thigh to guide it towards your mouth, where you gently wrapped your lips around his middle and ring finger, enveloping them into the warmthness of your humid interior; your tongue danced between them as you deliberately sucked, not once breaking eye contact. 
Heeseung’s breath struggled to keep a pace, his eyes charmed by the alluring view you were giving – and for free. He was focused, as if you were spilling all the important information in the world to him; instead, you were making his dick twitch, since the feeling of your wet muscle brushing against his skin were sending straightforward messages to his sensitive and neglected area. He had to hold back a pathetic whimper threatening to escape.
With a smirk, you released Heeseung’s fingers slightly covered in your saliva, a string of the fluid connecting both areas, but held them close to your lips, grazing over it.
When you next talked, it tickled both skins. “I want them,” and, slowly but surely, you directed his hand downwards, Heeseung intense stare following until you stopped on your pussy, where, with your other hand, you pushed your underwear to the side. “Here.”
It was amusing and funny to perceive the way Heeseung’s breath hitched in his throat before he let out a sharp gasp, his gaze locking onto yours in search of an answer beyond the obvious, like he was utterly stunned with your request.
“Right now?” He asked, his voice airy, every ounce of disbelief laid bare as well as the typical hint of innocence and confusion. Heeseung was so fucking adorable. Having his big bambi eyes decorated by those gold-framed glasses was a sinful image.
Yet, his reaction stood in contrast to his actions; he was already closing the small space between you, his fingers, the very ones you had guided there, now teasing against your pulsing, needy pussy.
“Yes, baby,” you nodded, a taunting sultry grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Right now.”
Heeseung watched in awe and with his heartbeats accelerated how confident on your demand you were by forcing his fingers inside before releasing your grip, leaving your wetness in full display to his digits to play with; you had flattened your palms on the counter beneath you, searching for support and to grant easier access.
“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling the unmistakable throb of his dick inside his underwear. 
Randomly, a flicker of moral consciousness urged Heeseung to glance towards the locked bathroom door, as if someone might materialize out of thin air and catch the two of you in an undeniably compromising position.
This wasn’t him. He had always been the ideal student and eventually the dedicated professional, the man who prided himself on focus and discipline… But how the hell was he supposed to resist you?
The restroom you had chosen was one reserved for faculty – small but comfortable, designed for privacy, with only a single stall and sink. More than enough space to accommodate two professors caught in the heat of their desires.
Unlike Heeseung, you weren’t oblivious to the whispered stories of other faculty members using the same space for similar purposes, and that knowledge alone reassured you that the risk of getting caught was low.
But Heeseung’s sudden hesitation became palpable when he turned to look at you, one of his fingers still slowly burying itself inside you, yet his expression now laced with uncertainty, concern evident in the subtle furrow of his brows.
“Relax, baby,” you murmured, voice tinged with quiet reassurance as you rolled your hips forward, urging him deeper. Your half-lidded eyes locked onto his, inviting, unwavering. Heeseung winced. “I need you, hm?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. His breath faltered. And as if your words had snapped the last thread of restraint holding him back, his hesitation melted away, replaced by something darker, more desperate.
So Heeseung positioned himself into a comfortable position where his face was hidden in the crook of your neck, smelling the perfect mix of your perfume and natural scent while taking advantage to kiss you there. One arm held your waist and steaded your body while his other hand busied itself to please you.
Although it had started with one digit to stretch you out before adding the second one, you had to bite your lower lip in order to suppress the noises threatening to escape, since Heeseung easily found your sensitive spot from the very beginning and made sure to hit it with precision within each pound. And because of that, the strange intrusion quickly turned into a delightful wave of arousal flushing through your interior, your muffled whines growing louder.
Hearing your suppressed moans, however, was shattering Heeseung’s self-control, making it exponentially harder to contain the urge to get some relief himself. So almost unconsciously, yet deliberately, his hips started to move back and forth, brushing the painful boner on the edge of the counter.
“Fuck,” you mewled, hands flying to hold on Heeseung’s shoulders, intending to somehow anchor your spinning head and lost thoughts, but everything felt overwhelmingly good and you became pathetically desperate to have your orgasm. “Love your fingers, baby.”
The praise was more than honest, because Heeseung did, in fact, an amazing job inside you; flickering his fingers with mastery to curl at the very moment you needed them to, now speeding up the pace of his movements, wrists nearly burning from the exercise – and fortunately, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Not without your juices coating his digits.
You almost failed to catch the act of his hips rocking into anything that could give him some friction and consequently some kind of satisfaction. You even briefly wondered if your ears were deceiving you when soft moans grazed the skin of your neck, but Heeseung quickly confirmed your doubts not long after.
“I'm so hard,” he whined breathy in your neck, the pace on his fingers never faltering although his entire body shuddered within each soft thrust into the counter. 
From your lips, a cascade of curses blended with soft moans dripped, bouncing on the stillness of the walls surrounding you two, now more than never caring a little to nothing about getting caught; you, yourself, already extremely lost into pleasure the two digits fucking your pulsing cunt were providing. 
The position allowed his palm to glide across your bundle of nerves, ever so slightly giving the contact to drive you insane, you could feel your climax approaching. Your hands clutched the fabric of his blazer and you moaned. 
“So fucking good–”
“Will you cum for me, yeah?” Heeseung urged desperately, consciously wishing to finish you fast enough so you could help him out before heading back; even when he was somehow in control, he sounded completely surrendered to you, as if you owned each unique piece of his soul.
“Yes, yes, yes! I fucking will, oh my God,” your eyes rolled back and your whole body trembled, your muscles tensing the moment the coil in your core snapped.
Heeseung didn’t stop a second, fucking you through your high as your liquid drenched your long gone panties, stirring wet lewd sounds from the in and out. Your body jolted, nearly convulsing as Heeseung’s name fell past your lips amidst sobs; you noticed the mildly drying tears at the corner of your eyes as the world around you crumbled briefly into a blur.
“So pretty,” Heeseung murmured with his raspy tone against your cheek, kindly kissing the area as his fingers gradually slowed, eventually coming to a halt.
At the back of his mind, though, there was a faint reminder about the lecture waiting for both of you, so the time was running short – and he had a big problem to solve before going back.
You felt languid, too relaxed. Maybe you had overdone it with the dose of Heeseung that had seeped into your system, leaving your body in a state of calm you hadn't expected, but you didn’t regret it for a second. 
Now you would have to hope you had an extra pair of underwear tucked somewhere in your bag and pray for a little jolt to snap you back into reality, to remind you that your soul hadn’t been completely drained by Heeseung’s skilled fingers.
Speaking of which, Heeseung was dotting your neck and face with gentle kisses, patiently waiting for you to regain some semblance of consciousness, to come back down from wherever you had just floated off to. The sound of a notification on your phone, however, was enough to drag you back immediately.
You startled, almost leaping off the counter in a frantic search for your phone, your hands fumbling until they finally brushed against it behind you. Your heart raced so loudly you swore it might burst from your chest.
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you read the message from the principal calling you backstage.
Meanwhile, Heeseung continued his affectionate attack on your neck, like a needy little kitten, completely unaware of the devious plan that had just been planted in your head; he was hard, and now, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. A wicked, almost mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you typed a quick reply.
“Hee,” you said, pushing him gently away from you by his chest. But he wasn’t ready to let go. “Hee, listen to me. I have to go.”
“Huh?” He leaned back only to look at you, his large eyes brimming with desperation, though now confusion started to creep in.
“Yeah,” you showed him the message, watching how his gaze flicked rapidly over the words. You couldn’t help but notice – and enjoy – the way his expression shifted: first, confusion, then realization that you weren’t about to stay and finish what he so desperately wanted, and, to close it all, a flawless culmination of his state, expressing a combination of both desperation and frustration in equal measure.
His lips were swollen and slightly parted, he was just as breathless as you and it was an amusing vision, because you didn't even do anything to leave him like that. Your noises and reactions, and the feeling of your clenching pussy around his thick fingers were more than enough, apparently; being aware of that fact made a warm, comforting sensation rise in your chest, almost as if your self-confidence depended solely on it at that moment. It inflated your ego in the bestest way.
Before jumping out of the counter, you settled his messy, disheveled strands caused by your early fidgety hands.
“But what about... Me?” He finally asked with puckered lips, pleading eyes and a soft, nearly helpless expression. You almost folded. Almost.
With a final touch by adjusting his blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles that would give away your small adventure, you smiled. 
“Behave.”
Heeseung watched in pure astonishment as you removed your panties completely, folding it into a small ball and throwing it into the trash. Then, you cleaned yourself quickly, washing your hands, acting as if nothing had happened. 
His body refused to move due to his dumbfounded state. You weren’t that devil, were you?
Turning on your heels with the biggest smile ever, you searched for his lips to give it a small peck, “Behave and I'll reward you later,” and just like that, you patted his head and winked.
“But–”
“Be a good boy, Heeseung,” you instantly cut any possibility of disagreement, holding his face in place to keep eye contact. “Can you do that for me?”
Unseen by you, his dick twitched inside his slacks. He gulped down the urge to lock you into that bathroom and fuck your mouth, because the idea of having his body used by you later was far better. 
“Yes.”
Though you had grinned at his whispered answer, your squinted your eyes gave away you were waiting for something more. Heeseung felt blood rushing towards his face, his cheeks with a faint blush, burning, as his gaze flickered away when he replied properly.
“Yes, I can be your good boy.”
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You had never been the type to break promises. Not even the smallest, most trivial ones, and especially not the ones left unspoken. If you promised something – whether directly or not – you would follow through, no matter what.
And what cost was there in giving pleasure to your current… boyfriend?
It all happened so quickly. You and Heeseung delivered the presentation and it went flawlessly; the thunderous applause that filled the room was a clear answer to any lingering doubts in the air.
He did well, despite the painful erection he had been fighting with moments leading up to the presentation – thankfully, thinking of repulsive things had helped him relax and soften his shaft, otherwise, the embarrassment of standing there, hard in front of a room full of students, would’ve been irreparable.
Especially after you made sure to point out, indirectly, that you hadn’t found any spare underwear in your bag or car, suggesting, well, that Heeseung’s prize was tantalizingly close.
Every second you spent together during that presentation, Heeseung had to fight the fire of desire building low in his stomach, praying his loose pants wouldn’t betray him with the growing evidence of his arousal.
Then, you both left, your only task for the day completed, which led to Heeseung arriving at your bed much earlier than expected. The need to have you was much stronger than the plan to go out and celebrate the success of the presentation. He didn’t want to celebrate with food or drinks; he wanted to devour you.
And so, kissing you feverishly from the elevator to your room, he asked you to be his girlfriend.
“Will you be my girlfriend? Please?”
It was a rushed, spontaneous request, made amidst a kiss just as frantic and intense. It made you stop for a brief moment, shocked, your breath ragged and your eyes wide with more emotion than words could capture.
Apparently, all it took to win him over was edging him. And, well, of fucking course you said yes.
So now you had your lips wrapped around Heeseung’s dick as if they were made to be there, tailor-made to envelop him with mastery and desire, the same desire that compelled you to bob your head up and down slowly, lingering deliberately and with intent on the head.
The tip of your tongue played with its slit, the sensitivity of the area stirring a guttural moan from Heeseung who couldn’t hold longer in the silence; he barely noticed he was holding his breath so far, releasing it among a shaked trail of pleas for you not to stop.
“You feel so good,” he breathed, rolling his eyes when your throat met his tip, at the same time your nose made contact with his pelvis. He winced and stuttered a curse, hands clutching the already messy sheets beneath. “F–Fuck…”
The most thrilling part was that Heeseung had no idea that this wasn’t even the prize he had earned for his good behavior. Of course, what could possibly be a better reward for hours of unintentional edging? Well…
Hidden beneath your dedication to giving a truly memorable head was the curve of a wicked smile, one that concealed every sinful, far-from-innocent thought that had spun through your mind all day. 
If two hours of self-restraint had been torture for Heeseung, then for you, the real challenge had been thinking of anything other than the countless ways you could unravel him, the infinite methods you could use to push him past the edge of sanity. Fuck… Just the thought of it had your heart racing and your stomach twisting in excitement, not to mention the throb in your bare cunt – you got rid of both your clothes the moment you crossed the room’s door. 
In a way, you were grateful that Heeseung was struggling to keep his eyes open, avoiding your gaze altogether, because if he dared to look he would see right through you. He would catch the teasing glint in your eyes, the sheer amusement at how effortlessly you had him at your mercy and the uncountable devious ideas crossing your head. 
But then, there was a moment, a fleeting second when he was reckless enough to glance down at you. Little did he know you had been watching him the entire time, your focus never once wavering since your lips wrapped around his leaking length. You were drinking in every micro-expression, every twitch of his muscles, every tremor in his breath, the way his brows knitted together as pleasure consumed him.
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that…” He groaned, voice strained.
The position had changed a few seconds ago, now with a hand gripping tightly the base of his shaft and massaging the part your mouth couldn’t take, as you focused solely on his sensitive head. The other hand rested dangerously close to his balls.
With a wet pop, you let him slip from your mouth just long enough to speak, your fingers never pausing as they jerked him off. “Or else…?” You trailed off, the mischief in your voice unmistakable.
His eyes flickered with hesitation, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had no “or else” to offer. He wouldn’t do anything. He would take whatever you gave him without question, without resistance.
There were no agreed-upon punishments, no threats looming over him. But after what you had done to him in the bathroom earlier, he already knew just how far you were willing to push him, how cruelly you could toy with him if you wanted to – and, damn, he would be down to anything if it involved you.
He swallowed thickly, voice faltering as your fingers cupped around his tip, your wrist twisting in slow, deliberate circular motions.
“O–or else nothing, b–baby,” he stammered, his body trembling under your touch. His breath started to rag with a certain constancy, pitch climbing higher as his resolve shattered completely. “N–Nothing at all. I’m all yours, right? Do whatever you wan–” He had to stop himself, since you thought it would be the right time to toy with his balls. The rough moan echoed through your interior like a visceral energy straight to your pussy, stirring it to clench, your arousal growing. “Fuck!”
It was such a beautiful view; Heeseung threw his head back and clutched his eyes close, back arching involuntarily within a sudden jolt, and his legs, once softly idling on the bed, now squirmed as you didn’t stop, never once, none of your movements, silently pressing the orgasm you knew it was close. 
Your piercing gaze zeroed on his trembling form, the way his lips fell open and how his Adam’s apple bobbed with the failed attempts to gulp his saliva; you could see it trailing down from the corner of his lips, his tongue struggling to gather it back on his mouth.
“So beautiful, Hee,” you whispered loud enough to make yourself heard, basking in the sight of Heeseung slowly falling apart.
And that was the last thing you said before taking his dick in your mouth again, deepthroating instantly and provocatively making swallowing motions, which pressed the very tip and elicited another guttural-high pitched whimper, sounds you had never heard coming from him before.
Heeseung was seeing stars, for sure. His eyes could barely stay open, yet they still rolled back as everything you were doing drove him absolutely wild. It wasn't just sensitivity or neediness; you were touching him in such a specific way that left no room for anything else, no space for coherent thoughts or self-control.
He could feel his body slowly unraveling, but not in a painful way. It was strange, like all his energy was being funneled entirely into the place where your mouth was consuming him. The rhythm of your tongue around him was hypnotic, but every time he tried to focus on how incredible it felt to have you taking him in, your hand playing with his balls distracted him completely. He had no idea what to do, how to react, or what the hell was going on in his mind anymore.
Only a few seconds into it and his entire body shuddered, his warning filling the room nearly at the same time as the warm stream cascaded down your throat, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. ‘M cumming…”
You swallowed Heeseung’s release as if you were parched, drinking it down like water, which accidentally overstimulated his spent cock through his high. Not a single drop escaped your hungry lips, cleaning him almost completely before you detached your mouth from it.
Heeseung trembled beneath your touch, the aftershocks rippling through his body in such a ridiculously captivating way that you could have admired it for hours without tiring. His lightly bronzed chest was now flushed in a lovely shade of red, coated in sweat from the heat of desire that had enveloped the room. In that moment, your gaze shifted to your next... target. The owner of it being entirely unaware of the mischief brewing in your mind.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you took a moment to steady your breath before continuing with your plan. You shifted up just enough to reach Heeseung’s swollen lips, his face still contorted in a look that could only be described as pleasure, but relaxed, as if he were sinking into the sensation.
His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his body still quivering as your fingertips traced the outlines of his collarbones, studying him with the kind of admiration you reserved for someone who didn’t know what he had just experienced.
“Hey,” you called softly, caressing his cheek tenderly as though you wanted to make sure he was okay. 
Heeseung fluttered his eyes open, the tiredness of them exposing how affected he was. You wavered about continuing with your ideas, but with the smirk he showed you and the way his gaze flickered lazily to your lips as if asking for you to continue it was the green light you needed.
So you captured his lips with yours, starting a kiss that was both passionate and affectionate. It was, somehow, an aftercare; one you would give even not having the need to. And Heeseung was more than receptive to kiss you.
It was oddly addictive, the mingled taste of you and himself, the bittersweetness melting across his tongue, igniting each particle of his body to move along with you. One hand slid instinctively to the back of your head, his fingers carefully threading through your hair as he held you in place, gently yet firmly pulling you closer.
Heeseung quivered when your fingertips started to move innocently down, not paying enough attention to it, until they touched his, now, softening shaft. 
He tried to break the kiss to complain, to alert that he was still sensitive from the previous orgasm and you would have to wait a few more seconds, maybe minutes, so he could get hard again; he definitely wouldn’t mind another round. But you only moved further, pressing yourself into his lips, shutting any possibility of him letting you know he was slightly in pain.
“Y/N–”
“Shh,” a shush was enough to leave him speechless, especially because your hand kept its exploration, now settling into a languish pace of moving up and down along his length.
“S–Stop…” Heeseung, once again, tried to part the kiss to plead. This time, you leaned back only enough to search for his eyes. They were wide in alarm. 
“Do you want me to stop, baby?” 
Your voice had taken on a specific rasp, clearly affected by the pressure you had previously exerted on your throat. But that was worse for Heeseung’s state, because you still shaped it to sound sultry, almost seductive. It was pathetic how he responded to your every stimulus, in all its varying intensities and nuances.
“It’s burning,” he whispered softly, not wanting to disappoint you in any way. You had already tried overstimulation before, so this was a sensation and dialogue he was familiar with.
You cooed, “Yeah? Is it?” Your tone, feigned concern, was completely overshadowed by the mocking edge beneath it. It was almost comical, but Heeseung loved it.
And then, a soft moan escaped him. He was getting hard again, which only spurred your hand to move faster, causing him to hiss.
“Uhm…”
The last time you had tried this, he had done exactly what he had just done: his hand had moved to grasp your wrist, but he didn’t exert any force to pull it away. It seemed more like a desperate attempt to hold on to something, almost as if he were clinging to his sanity.
The naughty grin that curled your lips only revealed how much you were enjoying watching him like this, eyes blinking rapidly, unsure whether to stay focused on the slight sting of discomfort, or to surrender to the imminent pleasure.
“But that wasn’t my question, was it?”
“N-No,” he shook his head, his voice shaky. “It wasn’t.”
You gave him a moment to respond, almost considering asking again just for the sake of it, but it seemed much more satisfying to use his lack of a correct answer as a small “punishment”, so your lips trailed down, leaving a path of warmth and chills through your way until they encircled Heeseung’s nipple, but not giving the entire touch; it was just a test of waters, just to drag out any reaction aiming to guide your following decisions, as you peppered soft kisses near the area and read his body response.
Heeseung’s breath hitched with the proximity of your mouth to his sensitive buds, his eyes fluttering shut and a small frown pressing his forehead to contort. Yet, his silence was heavy.
You raised your gaze ever so slightly to catch a glimpse, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized he might be into it, though he seemed to be trying to hide his blatant reactions; your hand on his cock now slowing to an almost full stop.
With that, you decided to wrap your lips around his nipple again, this time shortening the distance to flicker your tongue a few times right on the hardened tip, and the answer was immediate and modestly unexpected. 
“Oh, shit!” Heeseung nearly screamed, body jolting abruptly as a sharp spasm overtook his nerves. The coil in his stomach tightened, twisting further with each passing second you continued to play with your tongue.
Now absolutely certain of the pleasure you were causing, every whimper that fell from his lips was a delicious incentive for you to keep going, alternating between wet, noisy sucks and flattening your tongue to rub it along the bruised bud, your saliva coating his chest.
“Ngh, damn, fuck–” Heeseung exhaled shakily, unable to comprehend anything other than the crescent blissful thrill in his body, the temperature rising considerably due to your effort to make him go insane.
He was sure you wanted to make him go insane.
Blindly, you went back to grab his already very hard dick to give it some attention again, and the combo of everything you were doing to his body was more than enough for him to come undone in your hands.
“Babe, oh my god– Please–” He urged. “Don’t stop…” His voice was almost a broken whisper, but the pleading tone was clear, like a fragile thread that he hoped would keep him tethered to reality.
You giggled, continuing your work on his sensitive nipples, nibbling softly and then brushing your tongue to soothe any pain. 
“Please…” Heeseung’s voice cracked slightly, the desperation seeping through within pathetic moans, as his fingers gripped your wrist tightly.
“Aw,” you cooed, lips curling into a devilish smirk. You kissed his nipple a few times before letting go of it. “You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart?”
“Please.”
The word fell from his lips again similar to a mantra, his entire body trembling under your touch, yearning for more but unsure if he could handle it. A small giggle escaped you. “Is that all you can say, my love? Please?”
You repositioned your body to sit on your knees by his side, one hand focused solely on jerking him off, while the other rested on his chest, until you decided to flicker your finger on one of his nipples. 
“Aw, so sensitive, aren’t you?” You murmured with amusement, your voice soft yet dripping with teasing.
He was already leaking heavily, and when he started to whimper, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist that had been touching his chest, pushing it further into him, as if urging you to continue, you could feel how dangerously close he was to the edge again.
“Oh my God, oh my God…” His words came out as breathy nonsense, barely coherent, his hips instinctively grinding against you, seeking more friction. He was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by it all.
Heeseung's chest rose and fell with a desperate pace as he fought to catch his breath, each exhale shaking. His skin was flushed, a deep, beautiful shade of red coated in a thin sheen of sweat that caught the dim light of the room, making him glow with every movement.
Amidst pleas, blended with delectable whines of your name, there was a heavy desperation underlying beneath the whole surface he was showing you. 
He sounded dumb. 
He teetered the edge of madness, your touches weighting tons along his spent length; the nearly purple tip was nothing but pure perfection for your eyes, painfully hard still, because behind his despair there was the actual need to be there, to please you with by offering his own pleasure, to be your good boy.
And you wanted to make sure he understood it.
“You’re such a good boy, Hee.”
And as if your words snapped the bliss away from him, only to drift strongly back with a much intense force, the fierce orgasm built for the last minutes burst out through thick ropes upwards, landing perfectly on the very end of his tummy, on the sheets and on your hand. Thinking ahead, you used some of his release to lubricate what would soon become your seat.
Heeseung was fucking breathless, not sure if he was still alive but definitely pleasured. However, before he could regain full consciousness of his body, you were already straddling over, aligning your needy pussy, aching for some relief, already dripping in arousal, to be fulfilled by his dick, though it needed some rest before anything else. 
His eyes flew open as he held your hips in place, preventing you from sinking into the very sensitive extension of his cock. He would probably lift his torso as well, but he was too tired to even try, so his persuasion game was reduced to merely the plea in his gaze and the obvious tiredness of his breathing.  
“I already came so much,” Heeseung murmured, his bambi-eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t think I can…” His eyes darted briefly to your pussy, and the view of it painfully asking to be filled to the brim had him tweaking.
Once again: it was pathetic how devoted for you – and your body – Heeseung was. 
“Oh?” You pouted, cocking your head to the side with feigned sadness. “But I didn’t come, though?”
“Can you wait just a little?” 
You carefully observed the genuine tone laced in his voice as he made his request. There was a desire to continue behind his words, but he had asked only for a brief moment of pause. You could wait for as long as it took if it meant fulfilling his wish and not pushing further his boundaries. 
So you nodded, rising from your position to grab a water bottle from the nightstand. It was difficult to ignore just how wet the inside of your thighs had become or how the slightest friction on your clit only heightened your arousal.
“Here, baby,” you handed him the water bottle, watching the charming Adam's apple move with each swallow. It was definitely one of your favorite features of his. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you gently caressed his sweaty face, brushing away the strands of hair that clung to his forehead. “You did so well today.”
Heeseung wasn’t naive, he could sense the undertone of “farewell” in your voice, almost as if you were ready to end the moment without a second thought. Yet, for him, that would have been a huge problem.
You hadn't reached your climax.
Finishing the water, he silently thanked you, and before you could stand up he stopped you, cupping your hand on his face with his own.
“But I’m– I’m your good boy, right?” His wide, shining eyes blinked up at you, the innocence in them belying the desire to be praised, laid bare behind those expressive orbs.
His words left you momentarily disoriented. Honestly, you had been willing to take care of your own needs alone, and there would have been no issue with that. But Heeseung was clearly eager for more, and the sight of him rubbing his cheek against your warm palm was more than enough to reignite the spark in you.
“You are,” you nodded again, lowering yourself just enough to kiss his soft, flushed lips. “My good boy,” you whispered against them, your words carrying a promise – a silent vow of how grateful you were to have him with you. Then, you pulled back, returning to your previous position.
Heeseung watched you with both curious and excited eyes, watching how you climbed on top of him, reoccupying the earlier position just to sit directly on his sensitive length. His abs clenched with the immediate and unwarned touch, his back curving forward while his hands flew to grab your waist.
You smirked, though it showed more than just raw desire; it had, lying underneath, the very affection that warmed your chest by knowing Heeseung would be down to anything with you. He let out another groan when you started to move back and forth ever so slightly to coat your own arousal around his cock and lubricate once more.
Also, it helped to make him hard again, and it was obvious how easily sensitive he was once you felt the stiffness growing beneath you.
“There you go,” you murmured cheekily, adjusting your height only to align Heeseung’s dick in your pulsing hole, not waiting a second as you felt it filling you. It was your time to choke a moan.
Your body relaxed almost completely to welcome him inside, leaning slightly forward as the overwhelming sensation of finally being filled with friction surged through you. You were just as eager as he was, and soon enough, your movements started without hesitation.
His touch lingered in the exact spot he once held you, and you had positioned yourself on the right angle so you could feel your clit rubbing against his pelvis, only deepening, urging, your pleasure.
With Heeseung’s length dragging across your tight, sensitive walls, it was undeniable your growing desire to finally cum, and with that you searched for the right pace to please both of you. Your eyes were closed as you focused on moving your hips in a steady motion.
On the back of your thoughts, however, there were the beautiful whimpers Heeseung was letting out, as he felt the third orgasm of the day building up too quickly. 
And you noticed, of course; you could feel him leaking in you. And… You couldn’t hide or prevent your teasing side to show up, so you asked, your mouth whispering moans and his name, but also having a grin that made you too lustful to look at.
“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?” 
You slowed your pace deliberately, watching Heeseung’s body react. A sharp gasp left his lips, his chest heaving, but no answer followed.
“Heeseung,” you called his name again, voice soft yet commanding, hoping to anchor his mind back to you, to keep him tethered amidst the pleasure clouding his thoughts. You purposely clenched. “Can you give me one more?”
A strangled noise caught in his throat, and his hips jerked up instinctively, chasing the friction he was so desperately losing. “Nnngh, fuck!” He was a writhing mess beneath you, legs trembling, unable to stay still as he practically fucked himself into you, searching for the sensation that had him spiraling. A quiet sob echoed from his lips.
“Babe, I won’t move until you answer,” you murmured, slowing your hips until they stilled completely. “I need your words.”
“Ah–no! Please, please, don’t…” His voice broke into a whimper, his entire body shuddering with the withdrawal of pleasure.
A burning sensation coiled deep inside him, pleasure and frustration mixing into something unbearable. His hands clutched desperately at your flesh, definitely marking the extension; his lips parted as he let out a shaking breath, his body twitching for any form of relief.
“Please…” The plea left him again, raw and unfiltered, but even he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for. For you to move again? For you to let him fall apart? For you to ruin him?
Your gaze flickered up, catching sight of his tear-streaked cheeks. His big, round eyes fluttered between half-lidded and tightly shut, brows furrowed in pure, pathetic desperation. His lips, swollen and parted, trembled slightly, whether from the overwhelming sensation or from how hard he had been biting them, you weren’t sure.
Then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Heeseung finally looked at you. You smiled at him, something soft, something appreciative, as if silently letting him know just how much you adored seeing him like this, completely unraveling in your hands.
But you wanted something. Something simple. Something so easy. Just his words.
“Hee…” Your tone turned warning, coaxing. “Words. Need your words, yeah?”
It was like a switch flipped inside him, acknowledging you would easily stop and leave him without his release, frustrated and helpless. His breath hitched, and then his entire body jolted like a shockwave had run through him, with his eyes flying open and his back arching as a frantic urgency flooded his tone.
“Yes! Yes, fuck–yes! I can give you–” His words cut off in a choked moan as you tightened your clenching, circling your hips in slow, deliberate motion. His fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling as his brain melted into pleasure.
But then you stopped. His whine was downright pathetic.
“Another,” he rushed out, panting, the desperation laced thick in his voice. “I can. I can give you another.”
A slow smirk tugged at your lips, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you leaned forward, already going back to roll your hips.
“Good boy, Hee.”
Due to the proximity of your mouths, you even tried to initiate a kiss, but it quickly turned messy, chaotic even, though your lips didn’t fully part. You both moaned into each other, breaths, sounds, and whispered desires blending into the creaking of the bed that shifted slightly under your relentless movements.
There was a deafening determination in the way you grinded against him, fast enough to give you pleasure and leave Heeseung completely broken.
And then, silence. At least, on his part. You tried to open your eyes to meet his, and through the blur, you caught a glimpse of his lips slightly parted, breathless, his eyes shut in the intensity of the moment.
Fully committed, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line, feeling the familiar tightness in your core signaling your impending climax. You also managed to get his dick brushing against your most sensitive spot, propelling you faster towards the edge.
Suddenly, Heeseung gasped for air and moaned loudly, filling you with his release, the pressure inside you intensifying. It was different from all the other reactions, and it would definitely stay with you. 
He was gorgeous, his neck completely exposed and glistening with sweat, his body trembling as he gasped and moaned beneath you. And, finally, with one last powerful movement, you reached your own peak, your body shaking in the aftermath, clinging to him as your world spun with the intensity of it all.
Heeseung, still a little lost in the moment, hugged you back. There were no words needed to express that this had been a significant moment for both of you, a journey through uncharted paths, where you respected each other’s desires and understood your own limits, while still daring to push beyond them a little.
It felt different and fulfilling to be with someone like that, your thoughts syncing in unspoken understanding. And that simple embrace, though messy and sweaty from your shared experience, was more than enough to mark the beginning of something new.
A new chapter.
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cozycottagetarot · 5 months ago
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How They Show Their Love & Affection
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This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings - Classic | Paid Readings - $10 and Under
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PILE 1
I feel like your person is such a romantic. They genuinely want you to feel loved and believe it wholeheartedly. You can practically sense their love—they want you to feel like you're absolutely blessed and gifted in this lifetime when you're with them. I really get the sense that your person embodies certain love languages strongly. Gift-giving and acts of service could be their primary love language.
They want to make you feel like you're living a luxurious life, defined by whatever "luxury" means to you. They're the kind of person who would buy flowers for you, just because. They'd go for a walk and hold your hand which may feel a bit cliche. with you—simple, sweet moments like that mean a lot to them. If there’s something practical, like bugs in your home that need dealing with, they’d step in and handle it for you without hesitation.
They’re very romantic, both in the classical sense and in a way that's unique to how the two of you define romance. There’s also this cheerleader vibe—they’ll always be in your corner, supporting you and encouraging you.
They’d take time out of their day just to be with you, even if it’s something quick, like grabbing coffee or tea together for five minutes. They’re the kind of person who appreciates those little moments and stitches them into something meaningful.
They’d also plan thoughtful surprises for you. If surprises aren’t your thing, they’d still do spontaneous, kind gestures to show their love. If you asked, “What’s the occasion?” they’d simply say, “Just because” or “Just because I love you.” That’s their energy—always looking for ways to make you feel special.
I get the feeling they want to be your knight in shining armor. Anytime you need them, they’ll be there. You can absolutely count on them, 100%.
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PILE 2
I'm getting the sense that your person is the strong, silent type. You may be someone who has either struggled mentally or faced a lot of hardships and difficult events in your life. Because of this, your person’s primary love language is to show up for you and be there, offering unwavering support to help you navigate those challenges.
I feel like quality time and words of affirmation are the love languages they most naturally express. They’ll use these to offer you love and support.
They’re the kind of person who will help you see new perspectives, guiding you out of your head and pushing you to grow into your best self. At the same time, they’ll also be there to comfort you, offering a sense of safety and reassurance. Even when life feels overwhelming, they’ll remind you that you don’t have to face it all alone.
They’re going to help you break free from anything that’s holding you back—be it limiting beliefs, unhealthy habits, or challenging relationships. They’ll stand by you as you work through those obstacles, and they’ll support you in fostering healthier connections with others.
When life feels like it’s falling apart, they’ll be right there, holding your hand every step of the way. They’ll also help you rebuild, piece by piece, until you’re standing on solid ground again.
On top of all that, they’re a deeply loving and nurturing partner. Whatever you need—mentally, emotionally, or physically—they won’t hesitate to provide. They want to see you thrive, and they’ll go out of their way to make that happen.
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PILE 3
In comparison to Pile 1, where that person was more outspoken about their love, your person seems to love you deeply in their mind, though they might not express it as openly. They could just be a quieter person, or maybe they're more reserved in how they show their affection.
The sense I’m getting is that you’re your person’s muse—they genuinely want you to be happy. Because of this, I feel like quality time is probably the main way they express their love. However, they might always be on the move and have a lot going on in their life, so when they do make time for you, it’s their way of showing you how much you mean to them.
They try to connect with you emotionally, which leads me to think words of affirmation might also be a love language they lean toward. They’ll offer support and encouragement, letting you know how much you mean to them through their words.
There’s also a subtle, gentle touch to their affection, though they may not be overly physical. They may not be a super touchy-feely person, but they show their care in ways that feel warm and comforting.
They seem like the type to take you on dates where you can either learn something new or experience something beautiful together. I get the sense that they’re very creative, perhaps an artist or someone with a deep appreciation for art, and that creative energy is something they bring into your relationship.
Their passion will likely show more in the experiences you share together rather than grand declarations or intense gestures. They value those shared moments and want to create lasting memories with you.
In terms of love languages, they’ll likely try to be fair and give you a balanced experience. While quality time might be their favorite, they’ll also try to meet you where you are and love you in the ways that resonate most with you. They won’t limit themselves to just one way of expressing love—they’ll try to cater to your preferences.
I also get the feeling that they favor experiences over material gifts. Rather than buying things, they’d rather create meaningful moments with you.
Ultimately, the main thing here is that they just want to spend time with you—quality time is the consistent theme that keeps coming through.
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obsessedwhyyes · 6 months ago
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The Learned Observer
Fic Request: Voyeurism
Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.
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A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!
Another sleepless night.
The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.
I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–
… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.
Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.
The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.
I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.
Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.
Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.
My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.
Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 
The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.
When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…
I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.
You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 
You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.
My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.
He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.
He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.
And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.
Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.
Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 
There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…
I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.
When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.
When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.
Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.
My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.
My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.
Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 
You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.
You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.
I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.
Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.
There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.
It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.
The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.
I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.
Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?
With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.
“A-ah!”
Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.
Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.
The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.
The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.
Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 
There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.
I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.
Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.
But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 
He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.
You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.
My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.
In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.
I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.
For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.
Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.
Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.
With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.
As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.
"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."
The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 
He knew. 
Astarion knew. 
I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.
"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."
But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.
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Masterlist can be found here!
No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary
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pinkmoonastro · 1 year ago
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What I think of Lilith through the houses
Both polarities blended together, Enjoy!
Sb: pls take it with a grain of salt if it doesn’t apply let it fly.
1st: dogmatic views, do as I say not as I do, attracted to the bad boy/bad girl, relationships with promiscuous people, openly opinionated, body dysmorphia, magnetic aura, captivating presence, traditional views when it benefits them, competitive, strong work ethic, very attractive but it may be hard for them to see it, money is power and they know this, dark humor, gets people to open up easily, self imposed restrictions, victim mentality.
2nd: jealous co workers, insecure without money, focused on long term success, thinking outside the box, quirky, illusions around upbringing, favorite child, should embrace new perspectives //possibilities, attracted to the outcasted, can feel pressured to help others, victims of betrayal, takes shortcuts to get what they want, responsible with money, loves the idea of love but not the commitment, pressure to perform well.
3rd: secret teller, uses sex for power, uses communication for power, odd sex appeal, unique style, entrepreneurial mindset, self motivated, driven, spiritual blessings through others, easily adaptable, loved by women, team player, liar, familiar with the underworld from a young age, ambitious, fast thinker, prefers to be coupled up, questions others authenticity.
4th: self driven, “been there done that” vibe, quirky sense of humor, untrustworthy mother, misuse of sexual energy, confusion around self identity, jumping from relationship to relationship, doesn’t know when to let a relationship go, generous in relationships, charming with their words, idealistic about love, passionate, cold demeanor, manifest desires easily, persistent with what they want, right place right time, hard worker, likes/requires routine, attracts/likes conflict, dramatic relationships, impulsive, loves adventure, victim of betrayal, liar, self destructive, possessive, comes across as intimidating.
5th: charming, witty, self destructive, overly emotional, lashing out, makes friends with common interest easily, convincing, attracts money easily, make it and get it right back mentality, lacks patience, needs to do things in moderation, anxiety, worry, fear of the unknown, depression, needs to find peace within themselves, overly serious, scattered brain, life of the party, big personality, attracted to big personalities, lives outside the box, always standing out in the crowd.
6th: requires stability, shame around upbringing, lacks self esteem, thinks too much before acting, hasty careless movements, overworks the body, running from thoughts, overwhelms themselves, feels they have something to prove, intellectual, restricts sexual desire, attachments issues, addicted to ideas/belief systems, reliable, helpful, resourceful, natural leader, feels they have big burdens, should let go and be more carefree.
7th: feels misunderstood, values family dynamics, strength, disconnected from others, integrity questioned, do what they want not what their told, distorted view of family and relationships, strong intuition, divine feminine, nurturing spirit, frequent conflicts, lacking accountability, escaping justice, partners that bring out the worst, popularity, unique voice, charming, very opinionated, sexually explorative, calm before the storm.
8th: relationships that alter view on sex, emotionally manipulative, self critical, overworks themselves, always stressed about time, too much on their plate, overwhelm, self sufficient, luxury, abundance, doesn’t rely on others to make things happen, can see their plans through, should flow more with life, slow down and take your time, receives a lot of gifts, also gives a lot too, gift of gab, dark humor, sneaky vibe.
9th: comes off quiet but really a social butterfly, confident, independent, determined, chooses partners that talk disrespectful to them, lacks self discipline, easily unmotivated, changes paths often, loves podcast, sweet words, jack of all trades master at none, trust your intuition, many rebirths, it’s okay to be the student, don’t fear growth, insecure about how their perceived, feeling misvalued in relationships, hard time feeling ready enough”.
10th: home body but equally likes being outside, big family lots of kids, multiple baby daddy’s/baby mamas, impulsive decisions, gets a lot of attention from their outfits, defending your beliefs to the public, advocating social issues, underdog, very intelligent, people come to them for advice, secret relationships, weighs the risk vs reward, doesn’t value others opinions, brushes issues off, truth seeker/ truth teller, would rather work alone, loves love, attracts a lot of haters and secret fans, always partnered up or wants to be, gets lied to a lot, so much potential, generous, loves to be a provider, doing the same thing and expecting different results, strong emotional world.
11th: inflexible, likes to dominate others, would benefit from connecting to Mother Earth, jealousy, overwhelmed by responsibilities, loves to be in a relationship, creative, doesn’t invest time properly, wasteful with their energy, sharing wealth, attract fake friends, friends are very different from them, very confident demeanor, don’t get along with women, very convincing, two sides like a Gemini, a lot of love to give hopeful it’s not being misused.
12th: reserved, quite but a social butterfly, courageous, loves learning new things especially darker subjects, wants their voice heard on a public forum, should take time to be alone to hear your own voice and strength intuition, fear of change, escaping at the nick of time, learning to develop personal beliefs, people pleasing, strong will, persistent, misuse of power, direct, quiet power, reads the room.
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champagnefountains · 10 months ago
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Secret(s) — K. SATO
Prompt: Kenji finally decides to come clean with his feelings and (sort of) confesses to you...except, it doesn't go the way he planned.
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Word Count: 2.9k+ words [Damn, I lowkey popped off on this one...] Pairing: Kenji Sato [Ultra-Man: Rising] x Fem! Reader Genre/s: A tiny bit of angst with fluff. Misunderstandings. Mutual pining. Warnings: Swearing. Maybe OOC Kenji (?), not sure tbh...also, I sort of change perspectives weirdly in this one but I tried to make it work the best I can ;-; Plus, I feel like the pacing's weird ;-;
KENJI SATO HAD TWO BIG SECRETS. Number one; he was none other than the Ultra-Man, begrudgingly taking over the momentous mantle after his father was injured. Unlike his booming baseball career, the whole 'superhero' thing was honestly a humbling experience, as Kenji realised the numerous beatings and immediate danger that comes with the spotlight. Though, after what was the unique experience of baby-sitting a kaiju and finally mending his relationship with his father, did Kenji come to terms with and welcome this responsibility. Gladly, Kenji finally found that much needed balance in his life that was necessary and soon, his life didn't seem as bad as it was before. It wasn't lonely anymore either, he thinks.
And number two; he has a massive crush on you. The both of you knew each other since you were little kids, growing up and going to school together like true best-friends did. Initially glued to the hip, you were then forced apart when he had to abruptly move to America with his mother. The transition was difficult to say the least, as little Kenji was thrown into what seemed like a whole new world. Other kids would talk constantly about the way he looked and acted behind his back—about how different he was, and whilst Kenji eventually grew out of it, he couldn't help but miss home. You, included.
When Kenji returned to Japan after many, many years, his feelings for you resurfaced when you surprised him during one of his baseball games. Amongst the crowd, you had been sitting by the front row when Kenji suddenly locked eyes with you as he entered the batting field. He had to do a double-take because God, the years treated you so damn well (And you were even wearing his jersey. His jersey). Whilst he wanted nothing more than to run to and scoop you into his arms, Kenji had a game to play. He had a strong urge to show you his best performance and damn it, did he deliver. He was the Ken Sato, after all. He never disappoints.
The both of you had your heartfelt reunion after the game as he held and spun you in his embrace, in all his sweaty glory (it was honestly a bit gross, but you let it slide this once for the sake of celebration). Excited, you both decided to catch up at Tonkotsu Tonki after he washed up. And to his relief, it was like you never changed. You were still the amazing, humble and kind you — and even though he thought you of beautiful then, you were practically glowing now.
Despite the piling stress he was enduring then — with having to juggle between being Ultra-Man, baby-sitting Emi and some career troubles — your presence alone was like a breath of fresh air. Whenever he was with you, whether it be on the phone or in person, he wasn't the famous celebrity, Ken Sato, or the beloved Japanese super-hero, Ultra-Man. He was just Kenji. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
So with that all being said, with months-full of excruciating pining, Kenji finally made the big decision to confess to you. Today. He invited you out to Tonkotsu Tonki for dinner one spontaneous night, booking a private space away from watchful eyes and any possible distractions.
"So, [Y/n]...I have something to tell you," he suddenly brings up after you finished your meals. His hands start to feel clammy as you avert your attention from your phone, staring up at him with curious eyes. Kenji was normally confident with most things, but vulnerability wasn't exactly his strong suit. He was usually flirtatious and a tease in nature, always flashing a dashing smile and blowing kisses towards the camera and his fans. But today was different. Heck, he couldn't even look at you right now without his head turning into complete mush.
On the other hand, the tone of his voice surprises you. It was noticeably a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation you had just minutes prior. It must've been important, you think to yourself. And it made you nervous. "Oh," you lamely say, blinking at him, "uh, sure. Shoot." You clasp your hands together to keep them from fiddling too much, your nerves tingling at your fingertips. The thing is, you had an inkling of an idea as to what he was going to say, which was something you've been itching to hear for the past month. '...Was he actually going to follow through?' You think in quiet anticipation.
"Right. So, um..." Kenji throws some gestures in the air in attempt to gauge the right words, "...well, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. It might be a bit...surprising–heavy, even. And I'm worried that it might change a lot of things between us–which I really hoped it wouldn't, but I guess it's inevitable."
He keeps an attentive gaze on you, studying how your features slowly became more tense. Funnily and strangely enough, he thought you looked a bit constipated and perhaps in another circumstance, he would've laughed at you. Though, he knew he wasn't doing any better himself – the restaurant suddenly felt like a sauna and his heart was practically pounding out of his chest as if he were in a game.
Kenji unknowingly continues to babble on. "I-I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't want to scare you off. But now, since I've come back from America–and am planning on staying here for good– and-and we've been given a chance to reconnect these past couple months...I think it's a good time to finally come clean and tell you the truth—"
"I already know," you suddenly intervene, surprising Kenji and even yourself. You mentally reprimand yourself for abruptly inserting yourself in the midst of his dialogue, cursing your lack of patience.
"You...you already know?" He asks sheepishly, clearly taken aback, "what���what do you mean you already know? Like, was I being too obvious or something?" He couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escapes his lips. He felt like he was going to implode at any minute as the embarrassment rapidly crept up his neck, dusting his cheeks.
You wince a little. "W-Well, no. But I guess I already had my suspicions. I noticed that you've been acting kinda weird recently and I sort of just...y'know, connected the dots," you shrugged, looking apologetic. He honestly didn't know how to feel about that.
"Oh...right. I forget how perceptive you can be sometimes. It's kinda scary," he attempts to flash you a smirk but it comes off as an awkward smile instead, as he raises a hand to rub his nape. You notice this and try to offer some consolation, reaching out to grab his hand. The action alone causes butterflies to flutter erratically in Kenji's stomach and for a moment, he feels hopeful.
"Hey, for what it's worth I'm actually glad that you told me, Ken. It must've been hard keeping it to yourself," you say warmly. Kenji scoffs in response – that was an understatement. "Oh, God. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get this off of my chest," he huffs incredulously, unconsciously melting into your touch.
There was a brief second of pause and soon, Kenji couldn't help but feel as though there was something...off about this whole exchange, especially with how casual you were being at the moment. After all, Kenji literally just confessed (well, kind of) and you just sat there, smiling at him without giving him a definitive answer. Was...he forgetting something? Was he even doing this right?
"Y'know, you seem a bit...nonchalant about all this," he points out, "because if I'm being completely honest with you, I feel like I'm about to pass out." Brows furrowed, you straighten up in your seat. "Wait, Ken, I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't care or anything," you attempt to affirm with the wave of your hands, "i-it's just...slowly sinking in right now. Even though I told you I knew, hearing it from you straight is still overwhelming."
Overwhelming? At that, Kenji frowns. "Well...I did warn you, didn't I?" He says disheartened, letting out a deep sigh whilst running a hand through his hair. "Look, [Y/n]. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, nor do I want to pressure you for an answer right now. I just thought I'd tell you–"
"Woah, woah. Wait a minute. Pressure me?" You question with raised brows, now acutely confused, "pressure me into what?" Kenji rapidly blinks and tilts his head to one side, almost gaping at you, "Uhm, pressure you into reciprocating my feelings?" Crickets. Literal crickets. It was only after a few passing seconds that the both of you realise that you were talking about very, very different things.
"Y-You have feelings for me?" You gawk as you point to yourself, a bright blush now evident across your cheeks. Kenji wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. "I–Yes! Yes, I do–I thought I made that super clear?!" He panics, balling his fists, "what the hell were you talking about then?!"
Ah, shit. This was awkward, but there's no point in turning back now, you think to yourself, grimacing. You look around the both of you in caution and thankfully, the cook behind the counter was nowhere in sight, presumably having gone back of the kitchen. You leaned close towards Kenji. "I was talking about you being Ultra-Man!" You harshly whispered between your cupped hands, and it causes Kenji to bang his knee against the countertop, eliciting a loud thud.
You gasp. "Shit, Ken, are you okay—" "Fuck-What the actual fuck?!" He whisper-shouts, his eyes growing as wide as saucers as he aggressively rubs his knee. "how-how did you know about that?!" Maybe Kenji should've initially tried to deny the accusation, but his better judgement was severely trampled on, alongside his ego, by his failed attempt of a confession.
Now it was your turn to fumble. "W-Well, first of all, every time you would abruptly leave when we hang out, Ultra-Man would just appear out of nowhere and it would always be when there's a kaiju in the city! Like, come on, the timing was always coincidentally impeccable!" You explain, your arms messily flailing in the air, "And don't even get me started on the lame-ass excuses you make! What? You needed to water your plants? You couldn't even conjure a single sprout, let alone a pot plant even if you tried—"
"I–Okay, first of all, that is so not true–"
You raise a digit, causing him to halt mid-sentence, "And not only that, but maybe you should–I don't know, work on being more discreet with your identity because I literally saw you transform near a freaking construction site!"
Kenji's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Shit, you saw me? When did you–"
"Over a month ago, with that pink dragon-looking kaiju." You were referring to Emi. At that, Kenji squints his eyes at you, "You knew for a whole month and didn't tell me!?"
"Shh, lower your voice, Ken! Someone's gonna hear us!" You hush, "And I was planning on telling you at some point! Believe me, but I-I just didn't know how to bring it up! It's not exactly the smoothest conversation starter, y'know?" You look at him guiltily, your voice growing quiet, "I was kinda hoping that you'd tell me over time...when you were ready."
Kenji was now sporting a migraine, his mind trying to wrap around all the information you've just spewed at him. "You...you didn't tell anyone else about this, right?" He then asks anxiously. You were quick to shake your head, "No, of course not, and I wasn't planning to. I know how dangerous that information would be if it landed in the wrong hands—"
"And you do realise that you knowing all this would put you into danger, right?" Kenji says seriously. His own comment causes him to slump over at the counter, sighing heavily as he holds his head in his hands, "...it's why I never wanted you to know in the first place."
A small pang of hurt hits you as he admits this, but you decide to let it slide, knowing where Kenji was coming from. "Hey, come on, I'm stronger than I look, Ken. At least give me some credit over here," you attempt to liven up the mood, nudging him with your elbow. "Apart from kaiju, there are some really dangerous people out there, [Y/n]. You and I don't know what they're capable of," he mumbles into his arms, his gaze remaining on the table. Having you roped into his Ultra-Man business opened a lot of opportunities for danger to strike at any angle. Kenji wouldn't forgive himself if something were to happen to you, knowing that it could've been avoided in the first place. Heck, look what happened with the KDF.
Your eyes soften at his concern, pressing your lips into a thin line as you let out a small huff. "Look, we'll figure something out. But in the meantime, it'll be okay. I'll be fine, Ken."
"But—ow!" Kenji winces as you flick him on the forehead. You click your tongue in mild annoyance, speaking once more to reiterate as he rubs the reddened spot on his head, "I said, I'll be fine. So, enough with the brooding, Ken. What's done is done, okay? Nothing's going to chance the fact that I already know, and there's no point in entertaining the 'what if's." You then cross your arms against your chest, before softly muttering under your breath, "...and plus, you definitely gotta work on that transforming gimic of yours. You're gonna give yourself away with that clumsy technique."
Kenji initially gave you an unimpressed look, but he couldn't help the small grin that grew on his face as he spotted the mischievous glint in your eyes. You were definitely poking fun at him now. He lets out an audible scoff in response. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try. I bet if you were in my place, your identity would already be headlining all the news outlets within minutes!" You roll your eyes at this but you end up joining in on his laughter, chuckling alongside him.
Soon after, there was a brief and quiet moment of contemplation, and you found yourself staring at Kenji's profile. His confession wasn't left forgotten as your mind slowly picked up the pieces from earlier and soon, you found yourself growing increasingly flustered at the memory. The thing is, you did in fact reciprocate his feelings. With his success, you didn't think he'd even so much as spare a glance in your direction, expecting him to settle for someone of his calibre. You always thought that he was way beyond your league, so of course, you had your insecurities. But now, even if it was only for a brief moment, they all seemed to have dissipated and was now replaced by a warm, fuzzy sensation.
"Hey...so, uhm...about your confession," you quietly muster, unable to look at him straight in the eye, "...I guess I should give you my answer, huh?" Kenji's posture straightens in response as an uneasy expression takes over his features, having been reminded of his humiliation, "[Y/n], wait. Like I said, you don't have to say anything right now if you don't want to—" You didn't really comprehend what he was saying at that point, distracted by the loud thumping of your heart against your ears.
You bite your lip nervously, adjusting yourself in your seat to face him properly as Kenji continues to waffle on about your regard. Before your nerves could've forced you to back down, you were quick to dip forward and place a small peck against his cheek, just at the corner of his lips — you also made sure to have it linger a bit to send your message across better. Kenji stiffens as a result, shutting him up completely as a dumb-struck look strikes his face. "I like you too, Ken..." you say when you pull away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
It takes a few moments for Kenji to fully comprehend what just happened, before a shy, boyish giggle escapes his lips. "Well...I did not expect this to go the way it did," he airly says in a mixture of shock and amusement. You smile widely at him, finding his expression very endearing. "Oh, yeah? Then what did you have planned for me then, hot-shot?" You tease lightly with newfound confidence, leaning against the counter as you rest your chin on your hands. Kenji smirks. "Well, I was planning on serenading you and sweeping you off of your feet, and then carrying you off into the sunset," he jokes lowly, mirroring you. At this point, your faces were just centimetres away, and Kenji could practically feel the warmth radiating off of you. His eyes then dart towards your lips, thinking about how plush and inviting they looked, before looking back up towards your face. You also found yourself doing the same.
It was magnetising, the way you both naturally closed the gap between yourselves. His lips perfectly moulded itself with yours as his hands found its way to your cheeks, pulling you closer towards him. Your own fingers crept its way up the base of his neck, interlacing them as you also tugged him into you.
Ans so, after this eventful aftermath, and at the end of the day, Kenji (begrudgingly) had no more secrets to hide from you.
A/N: YALL...the absolute chokehold this man has on me is INSANE...but otherwise, thank you for reading! As always, constructive criticism is much appreciated!!
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nothorses · 4 months ago
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a transmasc only discord server is kind of fucking weird tbh. you call transfems seperationists for voicing their unique oppressions and then get pissy and make a server where you can just circle jerk and pat each other on the back, never questioning your transmisogyny? i think people can see who the true “seperationists” are.
About a year ago the queer black woman leading the organization we were working to start asked me and the other white people working with her to lead an affinity group that white families joining the org would be required to participate in, and which would read and discuss anti-racist/anti-white supremacist literature together, as a way of protecting space for black & brown staff, families, and program participants.
She stressed that it was important for this to be specific to white people, and explained that she wanted to start a parallel one for people of color involved in the org, because those conversations are really different between those groups. Importantly, the kind of honesty and vulnerability required to effectively unpack white supremacy culture is, well, generally not safe (or often possible) for people of color to embody in a space where white people are unpacking their own white supremacist ways of thinking and acting- even if they're doing it in an explicitly anti-racist context.
This is derived from the idea of "affinity groups", often specifically "identity affinity groups", which are commonly used in activist spaces and workplaces seeking to dismantle oppressive systems and culture from within. The idea is that creating spaces specific to identities allows for conversations about personal experiences with oppression that would be difficult to hold otherwise; both for those who have been harmed, and those who have done harm. It's not an end-all be-all kind of tool, but it can definitely be helpful.
In the context of marginalized identities, these kinds of spaces can also be a really great way of facilitating community-building, especially where there is a capacity for establishing positive cultural norms in the process (like not tolerating certain kinds of bigotry, especially if you also make space to express, challenge, and unpack bigoted ideas).
Transmascs, as a group, historically struggle to connect with community. Invisibility coupled with the isolating nature of queerness (as a marginalized identity that emerges later in life, and generally not through genetics), and in particular the way transness tends to funnel into a desire to "pass" & further isolates folks by preventing them from even identifying one another, contributes to this naturally. There's also a phenomena in which feminist and queer community spaces tend to be hostile towards anyone they perceive as "masculine", and therefore threatening. This includes transmascs (esp. those who are or have transitioned) and transfems (esp. those who are pre-transition/non-transitioning or butch), along with plenty of other groups (black people especially).
Thus, a transmasc-specific server serves a few purposes:
It acts as a space for transmascs to discuss our unique experiences with lessened anxiety around accidentally phrasing something in a way that does harm to others in the space
It acts as a space for transmascs to challenge one another on bigoted or harmful ideas, which may be better received coming from someone who shares some of those personal experiences- and is often easier given from a person who is not personally hurt by what was said/done.
It acts as a space for transmascs to build community with other transmascs
It establishes positive community norms early in that process, which often carry outside of that space and into others.
Among lots of other things!
Identity affinity groups aren't the end-all be-all; it's important for folks to interact, connect, and build community with people from a diversity of backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives. That's how we grow, and it's part of how we make sure the ideas we have about the world include and account for everyone.
Trans experiences have been absent from a huge portion of feminist theory; earlier theory especially. That- and the exclusion of black & brown experiences- is how we got radfeminism. Also known as second wave feminism, which preceded the inclusion of intersectionality that defined the third wave.
Transmasc experiences have been absent from a huge portion of trans theory; this isn't a conspiracy or anything, it's something Julia Serano acknowledges in the opening pages of Whipping Girl (even though she also goes on to make assumptions about experiences not her own anyway).
My opinion is that community-building is an essential step in promoting the inclusion of transmasc perspectives on a larger scale: it gives transmascs a space to identify patterns in their experiences. We can then take our observations into diverse communities, where we can identify similarities and differences in how others are treated, learn from one another, and cultivate a more complete understanding of oppression across all demographics.
Your ask makes me think you're not really interested in all of this- and you were instead just looking to make me feel or look bad (or perhaps just make yourself feel good)- but maybe I'm wrong! I would love to be wrong. Or maybe someone else will learn from this instead.
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xarology · 6 months ago
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Boba Eyes - TFP Optimus Prime x Reader 18+ MDNI
Thoughts I got from reading another fic please hang with me here. You! with a puppy-like personality! that’s it. that’s the plot.
If there’s an opportunity to follow him you’d take it. You’re always there perched on his shoulders, whispering something silly into his audials. It reminds him of times where he was once the silly one and not tackled with prime duties
When you’re not in the mood to be silly, you lean against his helm and watch him work. Your hand constantly smoothing over the side of him helm, exploring the metal. It drives him crazy in such a good way!!! Let’s not talk about his embarrassing loud fans coming on after you dip your hand to explore his neck cabling. It startled you enough to not do it again (oh but he wishes you would)
he says random words in cybertronian when he’s talking with his teammates so he doesn’t get you excited. Mission. Scouting. Patrol. They’re all trigger words that make you jump on your heels begging to go! (life has been boring after you’ve been forcibly relocated to Jasper following the knowledge of these titan mechs)
If you’re not allowed to go for any reason you’re on the couch sulking. Ratchet is tonight’s biggest loser as his impractical jokers punishment is hearing you sigh all day long. It actually makes him antsy until he puts you to work by helping him around base when the children aren’t around. When they are however, it’s easier to distract yourself from your funk.
When Optimus gets back you want to be mad at him, you really do. You just can’t help yourself! You’re already running to give his pede a hug. You give him time to settle in and talk with the other mechs about whatever the mission was about. When you find alone time together afterwards, you’re asking all the questions!!
He loves it when you do because it gives him the opportunity to recall every detail and ponder on what he could’ve done better. There’s also a unique perspective you offer as a human and he’s always ready to hear that
Mass Displacement is a rare occurrence given their low energon reserves. HOWEVERRR! When there is more than necessary I guess he can do it just this once! (it’s never just once)
It gives him peace of mind when you’re in control. He doesn’t want to accidentally squeeze too hard and get you hurt, so he settles with you doing the work and him helping. Not that you’re complaining either, you’re practically jumping at the opportunity to have him every which way
You particularly like riding him. It makes it easier for your hands to touch all across his frame, his hands helping you ride as he lifts your hips with ease. The vibrations of his engine rumbling hitting you when you massage his seams.
Your energy seems to be boundless. There’s so many rounds and you’re always bouncing on his spike, milking him as you overstimulate each other. Your brain runs on pure bliss as you don’t register that you’re still riding. Optimus has to pull you off and you’re still seeking stimulation when you both know you can’t go any longer. He calms you down from your seemingly permanent high and you crash immediately when the exhaustion hits you
This is the same reason why you can’t cockwarm (spikewarm?) with him. At all. You can’t help trying to find stimulation and being a brat when he has you sat in his lap reading over files you don’t understand. You have too much energy and your fidget is hopping
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gem-femmes · 4 months ago
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Social Grace 101: Small Gestures That Make a Big Difference
The best way to leave a lasting impression isn’t with grand gestures or over-the-top charm. It’s with small, thoughtful actions that show respect, kindness and awareness.
Here’s how to master the subtle art of social grace:
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🕊️1. Say Hello First
It takes just a second, but being the one to greet someone first shows confidence and warmth. It makes people feel noticed and valued.
I remember walking into a business event where I didn’t know anyone. I spotted someone standing alone and said, “Hi, I’m Elise. It’s nice to meet you.” We ended up chatting for half an hour, and later they introduced me to others. That small act of saying hello first turned a potentially awkward evening into a productive one.
🕊️2. Remember and Use People’s Names
Nothing makes someone feel more seen than hearing their name. If you struggle with names, make it a point to repeat it when you’re introduced or find creative ways to remember it.
At networking events, I jot down people’s names in my phone with little notes like “Loves hiking” or “Dog named Milo”. When I follow up, I would say “How’s Milo doing?” instead of a generic, “It was nice meeting you.” The responses I get are always enthusiastic.
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🕊️3. Master the Art of the Introduction
Introducing people is an underrated social superpower. It shows you’re paying attention to both parties and care about helping them connect.
At a dinner party, I introduced two acquaintances by saying, “You both love art. Lia just got back from Florence, and Ren works at the local gallery.” They hit it off instantly and later Ren told me “You’re great at bringing people together.”
🕊️4. Notice the Details
Whether it’s complimenting someone’s outfit or commenting on their choice of book, small observations show you’re paying attention.
I once told someone at a meeting “I love that pen, it’s so unique.” They smiled and said they were a collector, still writing everything by hand. That tiny compliment led to a heartfelt conversation that built a connection beyond the usual work talk.
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🕊️5. Be Attuned to Group Dynamics
Social grace often means knowing when to talk and when to step back. If someone’s being interrupted or overlooked, help them find their moment to shine.
At a group dinner, I noticed a quieter guest hadn’t spoken much. When the conversation turned to books, I said “Noa, didn’t you just finish something you loved?” She lit up and started sharing, and the table leaned in to listen. Later, she thanked me for giving her the space to speak.
🕊️6. Apologize and Mean It When You Get It Wrong
Nobody’s perfect. If you step on someone’s toes (literally or figuratively), a genuine apology can go a long way.
During a work meeting, I accidentally interrupted someone. I immediately said, “I’m sorry, please go ahead.” They smiled and the meeting flowed better afterward.
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🕊️7. End with Grace
How you leave a conversation matters just as much as how you enter it. A warm goodbye and a note of appreciation can make someone’s day.
At the end of a conference, I said to a speaker I liked, “I really appreciated your insights, it gave me a new perspective.” Weeks later, they remembered me and sent me resources related to their talk. That simple goodbye kept the connection alive.
Practice these small gestures and you’ll leave a trail of positive impressions wherever you go.
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nekropsii · 7 months ago
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Hello! First of all, love your work. Wonderful takes and analysis on the alpha trolls, and also i’m a big fan of sovstuck - both the text and the awesome cool art. I love that every character gets introduced with their own unique artstyle, each oozing with character :)
I wanted to ask, - and please believe that i’m asking in good faith, - about your proship dni. I’ve been seeing discourse about ‘pro/anti ship’ for ages now, but i cannot for the life of me understand what the hell either side stands for. First i hear it’s about abusive or problematic (pedo/incest) ships in general, then it’s about the difference of portrayal/endorsement of those things, then it’s something else entirely and i can never fucking understand what the hell the issue is and why it is so heated.
By no means i’m asking you to speak for the whole discourse or even for the entire ‘side’ of it - if there’s one thing i got, it’s that no one can agree on their definition of what ‘their side’ stands for. But i would like to know what meaning you put into the terms, and what kind of ‘proship’ you would like to not interact with you; i trust that you know what you believe in and are able to put it to words in a way that makes sense and doesn’t contradict itself or common sense, as i sometimes see :”)
I.. understand that since the topic is so divisive, you may get a ton of bullshit in your ask box and notes, should you choose to answer this, both from people who disagree and those who choose to misinterpret what you say. So feel free to ignore this ask if you don’t want to deal with that. Still, i do hope i can someday gain some clarity on this topic haha.
Best wishes!! thanks for what you do :)
Hello! Thank you so much, the compliments mean a lot! They really keep me going, lol!!
First of all, congratulations on formulating the most normal ask adjacent to this topic. Since it's so god damn touchy, people have a tendency to start throwing rocks no matter what "side" they're on, and no matter if they know what the hell they're talking about or not. Frankly, some of the ruckus surrounding this circus act is embarrassing. On both ends. Second of all, while this isn't something I'm an expert in, I do know more than I'd like, so I'd be happy to give my perspective, even if it's potentially a bit limited/flawed.
Thirdly, I'm putting this under a cut, for anyone who doesn't want to read all that.
Content Warning: Discussions of Shipping Discourse, Sexual Assault, Abuse, Grooming, Incest, and Pedophilia.
Let me start this by defining what the Relevant Terms mean:
Shipping: The act of pairing two or more Characters together. Though the term is derived from "Relationship", and therefore is at its core - technically, theoretically - a Neutral Term, it - conversationally, colloquially - carries extremely heavy Romantic Connotations, with a strong implication that said Romance is found to be appealing - typically in the sense of being either Cute, or Sexy. Defining this is not me trying to condescend you - One of the key questions in this discourse is what it means to "ship" something, and whether or not the term implies the shipper is condoning the material inherent to the ship.
ProShip: Essentially means "All For All Shipping". It's the personal, discourse-based identity label equivalent to the phrase "Ship And Let Ship". There's a common misconception floating around that the "Pro" in "ProShip" stands for "Problematic", rather than simply being the positive antonym to the prefix "Anti". While I find this to be a failure of basic deductive reasoning, I can also understand how the conclusion was reached - Proshippers are most commonly associated with "Problematic Content"/"Problematic Ships", and they do tend to take pride in being "Problematic" themselves. Either way, the word "Problematic" is highly associated with them and often reclaimed by them. They also call themselves "Anti-Antis" (horribly stupid label, by the way), and "ComShip(pers)", with the "Com" being short for "Complex". To my knowledge, ComShip is a sect specifically trying to get away from the baggage that the term "ProShip" holds, and away from the very real predator problem within the ProShip Community. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
AntiShip: Essentially means "Against Certain Forms of Shipping". It actually used to be a term for people who were against specific individual ships, rather than a blanket discourse label - for example, rather than someone identifying as just an "Antishipper", they would typically label themselves as "Anti-VrisMeen", or a "VrisMeen-Anti", or whatever their focus was. An important thing to note is that Antis trend Young, and they trend Traumatized. They are typically Teenagers, and their stances are largely informed by their discomfort watching Adults Sexualize Characters who share their age or younger, and discomfort watching people Sexualize some kind of Trauma they've been through - and considering their general ages, it's not unlikely that that Trauma is either Fresh or Ongoing. This is not always the case, but it's such a large amount of the AntiShip crowd, and it's acknowledged so little, that it's worth mentioning. It's a very important piece of context to me.
The general Belief Systems of both sides, as they currently stand, are as follows:
ProShip: ==> Never Harass Anyone Over Their Ships: This is the bones of their beliefs, and where everything started. Essentially, it's rude and unnecessary to send people Harassment over a Ship they enjoy, because not only could you be doing something better with your time, but also it can be pretty difficult to tell the "How/What/Why" of someone's interest in such material. ==> All Forms of Shipping Should Be Allowed, No Matter The Content: This is the meat of their beliefs, and also where the arguing starts. It's exactly what it says on the tin - Anything Goes, including Rape, Abuse, Incest, and Pedophilia. This is why the label is so touchy - many people are extremely uncomfortable with the idea of Fandom going back to its habit of uncritically normalizing + romanticizing Rape, Abuse, Incest, and Pedophilia. Part of this is due to the fact that this uncritical normalization has led to genuine, tangible harm on people in Fandom Spaces, particularly Minors. ==> Being Problematic Is Based: The skin of their beliefs. Many people wrap up Shipping Discourse in terms that make it sound like engaging in it is Political Praxis, somehow. While your stance on Shipping Discourse can certainly be telling of your Political Beliefs, in the way that your stance on literally anything can be telling of that, calling Shipping Discourse on its own some kind of Radical Political Stance is... Deeply silly, and also keeps leading to people saying "Being into Incest/Pedophilia is Queer Nature", like, unironically. I keep seeing this happen. This part of it tends to be very... Spite-driven. ==> Fiction Is Not Reality: Basically their catchphrase - nothing that happens in fiction is real, and therefore has no tangible effect on reality.
AntiShip: ==> Please Tag Your Content Appropriately And Keep It Out Of The Reach Of Minors: The bones of their beliefs. Self Explanatory, typically followed up with "and if you can't do that, don't post/make it at all". To further illustrate this, I'd like to spark any reader's memory of the times where you couldn't Google search "Fluttershy" without being lambasted with hardcore porn. No additions of "R34", or "NSFW", just "Fluttershy". There was no SFW Filters. You just had to fucking fight for your life. Being a child on the Internet is and was extremely rough. There wasn't any Official Tag Filtering on Tumblr until... I think 2017. It was dark. ==> Abuse/Rape/Incest/Pedophilia Should Not Be Considered "Shipping": The meat of their beliefs. Essentially, these are extremely heavy, delicate topics meant to be treated with respect and tact, or not handled at all. This is not possible in Shipping Content. At least, not as we currently understand it, and will likely remain understanding in that way for years to come. They argue that Fanfiction is not ever going to be on par with Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita. Which is true. They also argue that it's impossible for most Fanfictions to treat these sensitive subjects with any respect, which is... Dubious, but also fair, considering the Sturgeon's Law of it all. ==> Ewwwww...: The skin of their beliefs. Disgust. It's a whole lot of disgust. Again, worth reiterating that the bulk of AntiShippers are quite Young and/or Traumatized, and the content they are reacting to tends to be Extreme, so a gut response of disgust is... Honestly, healthy. No 15 Year Old should be stumbling upon art of a child getting frisky with their dad and going "hell yeah, brother!". Though I wish they'd handle their disgust with more tact, I find that it's just... A fair response, given their age, what their backstory tends to be, and what content they tend to be reacting to is. ==> Fiction Affects Reality: Not necessarily their catchphrase, but definitely their counterpoint to the catchphrase of ProShippers. They do not say Fiction is real, just that it does literally have a tangible effect on reality, and point to cases where this is observable. The impact Jaws had on real life sharks is a favorite, as is The Birth of a Nation, and The Turner Diaries. And, of course, the ways that the works put out by ProShippers has tangibly affected the lives of others, especially children.
It is worth noting, I am neither of these things. I do not identify as a ProShipper, nor do I identify as an AntiShipper. I identify as a Horror Writer. I have "DNI: ProShip" in my bio because their stances make me the most uncomfortable, and I have been victimized personally by members of their crowd and the result of their beliefs.
I was Groomed by an Adult ProShipper when I was 14 Years Old. She used her ideologies as a ProShipper to excuse herself and the (sexual) content she forced me to Roleplay with her, and used it to pressure me into writing more and more extreme content. I did not want to do it even at the time - it made me uncomfortable - but she made the idea of saying "No" to her... Quite scary, and like I was the one in the wrong for being uncomfortable with it. After all, Fiction Isn't Reality, right? I am not the only person I know with this experiences. I have met and spoken to countless - and I mean countless - individuals who have had similar experiences with that crowd. The sheer distrust kids and teens tend to have towards them is learned through that crowd's propensity towards grooming them. Because the celebration and normalization of that content breeds comfortability with "the real deal", and comfortability with harboring predators.
I'm sure some ProShippers have noble intentions, and don't realize what the controversy is about. I'm sure some of them are deeply out of the loop, and still think it only means "Being Anti-Harassment". But I do not care enough to give people the chance, just... For the sake of my own sanity. You understand, I'm sure. I do not think that this rift between worlds is ever going to get closed, or that these sides are going to experience amicability, because the question is nuanced and about morality itself, and one side is full of defensive, traumatized teenagers trying to keep themselves and their friends safe from what they are perceiving as legitimate threats to their safety, and the other side is full of people who just wanna jerk it to weird porn.
I'm not personally comfortable with, like, any self-identified ProShipper being near me, just due to my own experiences. Some might try to identify me as one against my will, due to the fact that I am Anti-Harassment and a Horror Writer unafraid to touch upon every single one of the aforementioned sensitive topics, but... I am simply not one, because I don't identify that way, I don't believe in their beliefs, and they creep me out, lol.
My beliefs are that people should be able to write about whatever they want, as long as they handle things with the appropriate amount of care, and as long as they keep things tagged appropriately. I think that harassing people for shipping Stridercest in fucking 2024 is lame because you could be doing literally anything else with your time, and I think shipping Stridercest in fucking 2024 is lame because you could be doing anything else with your time. Like, come on, man, it's not even interesting. They're not even doing anything interesting with it. Where are the themes? There are no themes. It's just brothers mackin' on each other whitely. Come on.
No topic should be off limits, but you should at least give it the care and respect it deserves, and you should make it interesting. Nothing is interesting on its own. Rape is not interesting on its own. Incest is not interesting on its own. Abuse is not interesting on its own. Pedophilia is not interesting on its own. Taboo subjects are not interesting on their own. They're mundane evils that happen literally every day to regular people. In writing, they need to be paired with themes, and, hopefully, with good writing. People who have been through these things deserve not only to have their trauma represented, but handled with care, and also for it to be interesting to read. They deserve to have options. They deserve to have good literature to chew on, to help them digest and cope with their own trauma. It's difficult to do that when you feel invisible to everything but the camera lens of a Fetish Pornographer, and I know many people who are suffering with the fact that their traumas seem to only ever be represented or referenced in shitty pornography.
Sure, some people cope with their own trauma by sexualizing it. I know that's the case for some ProShippers, and their reason for being within that group. But it's certainly not everyone's method of coping, and it shouldn't be the only option... Which is why I'm advocating for safe, non-fetishized exploration of extreme themes.
I think the reason why the discourse is so unclear is because "ProShip" and "AntiShip" aren't very tangible, definite belief systems, and also the talking points are evolving and maturing over time. A few years ago, the beliefs of "Antis" definitely broadly leaned more heavily towards total rejection of those themes being present in any fiction, but their arguments seem to have matured lately into "the problem is the nature of the depiction, not the presence of depiction itself".
That's all I can think of saying right now that wouldn't just be me walking in circles. And don't worry, I can definitely take the hit. I'm not sure what here could be very arguable other than semantics, or maybe a history lesson or two.
Thank you for the ask! Hope this helps!
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st4rtar0t · 2 years ago
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Tarot reading: What vibes do you give off to strangers?
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Picture one
Cards : knight of wands, The emperor and two of swords
When strangers encounter you, they might feel your infectious zest for life. You give off this vibe of being adventurous and always ready for something new. People might see you as someone who's not afraid to take risks and explore uncharted territories, and that can be pretty exciting to be around! I see that they might sense a strong sense of confidence and self-assuredness. You give off a vibe of being in control and having a clear plan. People may perceive you as someone who's organized and can handle whatever comes your way. Your presence might make them feel like you've got your life together, which can be quite reassuring.They might also sense that you're someone who takes their time to weigh options and doesn't rush into things. You give off a vibe of being thoughtful and considerate. People might feel like you're a good listener, someone who's open to different perspectives and doesn't jump to conclusions. you give off a unique blend of vibes. On one hand, there's that adventurous, energetic side that makes you seem like a fun and dynamic person to be around. On the other hand, your confidence and sense of control can give off an aura of reliability and leadership. And then, there's that thoughtful, considerate side that suggests you're not one to make snap judgments. These vibes combined make you an intriguing and well-rounded individual in the eyes of strangers. You're likely someone who can make people feel both excited and at ease when they meet you.
Picture two
Cards : Page of cups, 9 of wands and 10 of swords
First up, that youthful, dreamy vibe - it's like you're this open book of emotions and experiences. People can sense your readiness to dive headfirst into new things, to embrace emotions as they come, and to explore the world with fresh eyes. You're like a cup waiting to be filled with all these exciting feelings and ideas. And that's probably why folks find you super approachable; they see you as someone who's up for some real, heart-to-heart conversations. It's like you've got this welcoming aura that says, "Hey, let's chat about life and all the good stuff. It's like you've got this invisible armor, a cloak of resilience. People can pick up on your determination and grit, like you've been through some real battles and come out even stronger. There's a protective aura around you, a vibe that suggests you've faced your fair share of obstacles and setbacks, but you didn't back down. Instead, you stood your ground, and that makes strangers see you as someone who's not to be messed with. You're cautious, in a smart way, and that's something they respect. It's like you've experienced some major closures and endings in your life. Strangers might sense that you've put certain things to rest, that you're not dwelling on the past. There's this air of closure around you, like you've accepted the finality of some situations. And it's not just about endings; it's about transformation too. People might feel that you've undergone significant changes and personal growth. It's like you've faced your own dragons and emerged as a stronger, more evolved version of yourself.
Picture three
Cards : 5 of wands, knight of pentacles and 4 of cups
When strangers first meet you, they might sense a bit of inner conflict or restlessness in your energy. It's like you're constantly juggling ideas or ambitions, which can sometimes create a sense of tension around you. But don't worry; this isn't necessarily a bad thing! This inner struggle often stems from your desire to make things better, to improve yourself and your situation. People might notice that you're not one to settle for the status quo. Now, let's talk about your approach to work and responsibilities. You give off vibes of someone who's incredibly diligent and dependable. People might pick up on the fact that you're the kind of person who takes their commitments seriously. You're like the knight of pentacles, always focused on the task at hand and willing to put in the effort required to get things done. Your dedication and reliability are qualities that strangers can appreciate and respect. On the other hand, there might be moments when strangers perceive a certain level of indifference or introspection in you. It's like you have your own world of thoughts and emotions, which can sometimes make you seem distant or disinterested in what's happening around you. The four of cups suggests that you might occasionally miss out on opportunities because you're so wrapped up in your inner contemplations. But this introspection is also a part of your charm, as it hints at depth and complexity in your personality.
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This is my very first post here. Please let me know if this resonated with you 🤗
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ahqkas · 11 months ago
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♯ HIS LOVE’S CREATIVE HEART ; mattheo riddle
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PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! the love of his life was a creative soul and who was he to deny your nature? (based off this req.!!)
WORD COUNT! 3.3k
WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing, crafty reader, muggleborn reader, lovesick mattheo
NOTES! reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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YOU'VE ALWAYS LOVED THE ACTIVITIES OF CREATIVITY. From a young age, you found joy in the simple act of making something with your own hands. Crocheting, with its interesting patterns and soothing repetition, was one of your earliest passions. There was something oddly satisfying about watching a ball of yarn transform into a cozy blanket or a delicate sweater under your fingers. Each loop, each stitch is a small act of creation. The rhythmic movement of the hook, the texture of the yarn slipping through your fingers, and the memories of your Grandmama were too cherished by you to forget them.
Baking, too, became a beloved creative outlet you shared with the sweet old woman. The kitchen was your laboratory, a place where you could freely experiment. You relished the process of measuring and mixing, the way simple ingredients like flour, sugar, and eggs could be transformed into a mix of flavors and textures. The smell of freshly baked bread or cookies wafting through the house was a comforting reminder of the magic you could create by your own hands. The process is both strict and freeing; one must follow certain rules, yet there is always room for imagination. A pinch of spice here, a dash of flavor there, and suddenly, a simple recipe becomes his personal favorite.
Painting, on the other hand, offered you a different kind of creative fulfillment. With a blank canvas before you and a palette of colors at your disposal, you felt a sense of freedom that was really exciting for your young heart. Each brushstroke was a gift of your inner world, a glimpse into your thoughts and emotions. Whether you were capturing the vibrant hues of a sunset or the delicate details of a flower, painting allowed you to see the world through new eyes and share your unique perspective with others.
In all these activities, you discovered not just hobbies, but a way of life. Creativity became a pair of sunglasses through which you viewed the world.
Your grandmama always believed in the magic of your creativity. From the time you were old enough to hold a crochet hook, she supported your talents with a guiding hand. Together, you spent countless afternoons creating intricate patterns and baking delicious treats in her warm home. Her kitchen became your comfort place, the rhythmic hum of the oven and the soft clinking of your crochet needles made you unbelievably happy. She celebrated each finished piece, every golden-brown loaf of bread, and every delicate painting as if they were masterpieces. 
When your Hogwarts letter arrived, the old woman was overjoyed. As a muggleborn, you were stepping into a world she could only imagine. "Think of all the magical things you will create," she had said, her eyes sparkling with pride. Though the idea of leaving her was haunting you, her open love made the thought easier. She promised to write often, and you did your best to send her letters filled with detailed descriptions of your magical adventures and the new wonders you were creating with your wand.
But letters could only do so much, and as the years went by, you missed the simple joy of her daily encouragement and the warmth of her presence.
Six years passed in a blur of potions, spells, and problem making. Your creative spirit never died, but the absence of your grandmama's physical presence was a constant ache that seemed to linger in the depths of your heart. It was around this time that Mattheo Riddle entered your life. He saw the passion in your eyes, the same spark your grandmama had always seen. At first, he was fascinated by your creativity, watching with awe as you seamlessly blended magic with your muggleborn talents.
01 - CROCHETING
The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the flickering light from the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls. The warmth of the fire created a comforting atmosphere, slushing off the chill of the evening. You and Mattheo were nestled on a plush, overstuffed couch, its worn fabric bearing the marks of countless cozy evenings like this one. The air was filled with the soothing crackle of burning wood and the occasional 'pop' of a log as it settled deeper into the flames. Evenings like these were your favorite. 
You sat cross-legged at one end of the couch, your crochet hook moving rhythmically through a skein of deep blue yarn. Each loop and stitch seemed to flow effortlessly from your fingers, years of practice and the love poured into the new project. Your eyes were focused, yet relaxed, as you followed the intricate pattern in your mind, your hands working almost of their own accord.
Mattheo sat at the other end, his body turned toward you, one arm resting along the back of the couch. His gaze was soft but concentrated, his dark eyes following the movements of your hands with a mixture of admiration and fascination. He loved watching you create; there was something almost magical about the way you transformed simple yarn into beautiful designs. It was a side of you that he cherished deeply, a glimpse into your soul that he was privileged to witness.
The common room was quiet, save for the sounds of the fire and the occasional rustle of yarn. Mattheo shifted slightly, leaning closer to you. "What are you making this time?" he asked, his voice low and warm, filled with genuine curiosity as his irises never left your movements. 
You glanced up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's a blanket," you replied, holding up the growing fabric for him to see. "For my dorm. I thought it could use a bit more color and warmth."
Mattheo reached out, his long fingers brushing lightly against the soft fabric. "It's beautiful," he murmured lowly, his eyes meeting yours. "Just like everything you make." 
Heat crept up your cheeks at his words, and you looked back down at your work, your smile widening. "Thank you." 
As you continued to crochet, Mattheo's gaze never wavered. He was captivated by the way your fingers moved, the delicate dance of the hook and yarn. He loved these quiet moments with you, where time seemed to slow down, and the outside world faded away. Everything was okay for once again. 
After a while, Mattheo shifted again, moving closer until his knee brushed against yours. He reached out and gently took one of your hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "Can I help?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
You laughed softly, the sound a sweet melody that mingled with the crackling fire. "I don't know," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever done this before?" You knew the answer, but you wanted to mess with him a little bit.
His lips stretched into a grin at your words and his hand squeezed yours lightly. "I think I can manage. Just show me what to do."
You shifted closer to him, the blanket pooling in your and his lap. "Alright," you said, holding out the hook and yarn toward him. "First, you need to make a slip knot." You demonstrated the simple loop, your fingers deftly moving with practiced ease. Mattheo watched intently, his brows furrowed in concentration as he mimicked your movements.
"Like this?" he asked, showing you his attempt. It was a bit loose, but it held.
"Perfect," you praised the Slytherin boy, eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Now, hold the yarn like this and make a chain stitch." You showed him how to wrap the yarn around the hook and pull it through the loop. He followed your instructions carefully, his movements tentative but eager.
With each new step, you guided him, your hands occasionally covering his to correct his grip or adjust the tension. "You're doing great," you said, watching as he completed a row of chain stitches. "Now, let's try a single crochet."
Mattheo's initial awkwardness gradually gave way to a steady rhythm and his confidence grew with each stitch. He glanced up at you, a mixture of pride and joy in his eyes. "This isn't so bad," he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Although his side of the blanket was a little more messy than yours, it was adorable to see him trying out your activities. 
You laughed, the sound filling his chest with warmth. "See? I told you. And it's even more fun when you get the hang of it."
The two of you continued working together, your hands moving in sync as you crocheted side by side. As the night wore on, you and Mattheo fell into a comfortable silence, the rhythm of your work and the steady crackle of the fire lulling you into a peaceful state of mind.
02 - BAKING 
It was well past curfew, and the usual bustle of Hogwarts had given way to a hushed stillness.
 You and Mattheo crept through the hallways, stifling giggles and casting glances around to make sure you remained unseen. Finally, you reached the entrance to the kitchens, a place where the house elves bustled about during the day and night, cooking and baking the delicious meals that filled the Great Hall every day. 
You tickled the pear in the portrait, and the entrance swung open to reveal the warm, inviting space of the Hogwarts kitchens. The room was a hive of activity by day, but now, in the late hours, it was quiet in here. The house-elves, always so helpful and friendly, had agreed to let you use their space for your baking adventures. Their big eyes (they were the size of a tennis ball!) and cheerful smiles greeted you as you entered, and a few of the elves lingered to offer assistance if needed, but most retreated to give you privacy, seeing you had arrived with your boyfriend, hand in hand.
The kitchen was vast, filled with long wooden tables, towering shelves stocked with every ingredient imaginable, and gleaming copper pots and pans hanging from hooks on the walls. The scent of spices and baked goods from the diner lingered in the air. The hearth, usually roaring with flames, was now a gentle glow, casting a warm light that added to the cozy atmosphere.
You and Mattheo set to work. "Alright, Chef Riddle," you said with a teasing grin on your face, helping him to tie an apron around his waist, "let's see if you can keep up."
He shook his head at you and offered you an arrogant smirk, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just try to keep up with me," he retorted, grabbing a flour sack with a dramatic flourish.
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you began gathering the ingredients for your chosen recipes. Tonight, you had decided to bake a variety of treats: cookies and pastries that had been on your mind for weeks. The house-elves had thoughtfully provided fresh ingredients, and the counters were soon laden with bowls of flour, sugar, butter, and eggs.
The first task was to prepare the dough for the cookies. You measured out the ingredients, your movements practiced and efficient, while Mattheo attempted to follow along, his competitive nature driving him to match your pace. 
"Don't forget the vanilla," you reminded him, adding a splash to your own bowl.
He nodded, carefully measuring out the extract. "Got it. How do you know so much about baking anyway?" he asked, his tone curious but impressed.
You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. "Years of practice with my grandmama. She taught me everything I know."
As you mixed the dough, the rich, sweet aroma filled the kitchen, mingling with the lingering scents of past meals. You stole a glance at Mattheo, who was diligently working beside you, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, usually so busy with his wand, were now covered in flour and sugar, a sight that made you giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asked, feigning offense but unable to hide his smile. There was no way he could. Your smile brought out the best in him. 
"You," you replied, leaning over to swipe a bit of flour onto his nose. "You're a natural baker."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Just don't expect me to start wearing one of those frilly pink aprons."
With the cookie dough prepared, you moved on to the pastries. Rolling out the dough, you instructed Mattheo on how to fold in the butter to create flaky layers. He listened intently, his usual loud temperament now tempered by a genuine desire to learn by your side. You worked side by side, your hands brushing occasionally as you passed ingredients and tools back and forth.  The house-elves had left a pot of hot cocoa on the stove, and you poured two mugs, the rich, velvety liquid a perfect complement to the cozy atmosphere.
"Cheers," Mattheo said, raising his mug to meet yours with a wink. 
"Cheers," you replied, clinking your mug against his. The cocoa was rich and creamy, warming you from the inside out.
As you wiped your hands on a towel, Mattheo’s deep gaze lingered on your face. "You’ve got a bit of flour . . ." he said softly, leaning in. His fingers brushed against your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 
His hand lingered there for a moment longer, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. The playful atmosphere shifted, and the well-known tension filled the space between the two of you. Time seemed to slow as he moved even closer, his breath mingling with yours. Before you could fully process the moment, his lips were on yours, soft and warm, tasting faintly of cocoa and the sweetness of the evening.
You responded instinctively, your hands reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, pulling you even closer than you were. The kiss was both gentle and urgent, warming your soul and mind. 
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. The kitchen, with its warmth and golden light, felt like a different world, one where only the two of you existed. Mattheo’s dark eyes searched yours, a mixture of vulnerability and affection hidden in his irises.
"That was..." he began, but you silenced him with another quick kiss, smiling against his lips as your fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape. 
"Perfect," you finished for him, your heart full to bursting.
In that quiet, golden-lit room, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of your sweet boyfriend, you knew you had found something truly special. The baking, the laughter, the stolen kiss – it all came together to create a moment of pure magic, one you would cherish forever.
03 - PAINTING 
The art room at Hogwarts was a hidden gem, tucked away in a lesser-known corner of the castle not so many students knew about. It was a spacious, high-ceilinged room filled with the scents of paint and canvas, the walls adorned with student artwork from years past. The large windows let in the afternoon sunlight, casting a warm glow over the space. Easels stood ready with blank canvases, and tables were laden with paints, brushes, and palettes.
You and Mattheo had decided to spend the afternoon here, taking a break from the usual hustle of school life.
"Alright," you said, setting up your easel and arranging your paints. "Remember, every five minutes, we switch."
Mattheo nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Got it. But don’t expect anything too impressive from me. I can barely draw a straight line."
You laughed, squeezing a bit of blue paint onto your palette. "That’s the fun of it. Just go with the flow."
With everything ready, you both took your places in front of your easels. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of brushes on canvas and the occasional clink of paint jars. You started with broad strokes, laying down a wash of color to form the background. Your movements were confident and sure, years of practice guiding your hand.
Mattheo, on the other hand, approached his canvas with a bit more trepidation. He dipped his brush into the paint and made his first tentative strokes, glancing over at you occasionally for inspiration. You smiled reassuringly, giving him a thumbs-up. Despite his self-professed lack of skill, there was something endearing about the way he threw himself into the task, determined to make the best of it.
The first five minutes flew by, and soon it was time to switch. You moved to Mattheo’s easel, examining his work with a thoughtful smile. He had started with a simple landscape, a few rolling hills under a blue sky. It was basic, but it had potential. You picked up a brush and began to add your own touches, blending colors and adding a bit of story to the scene.
Mattheo moved to your canvas, eyes widening at the intricate swirls of color you had already laid down. "Wow," he murmured, "how am I supposed to add to this?"
"Just do your best," you replied, a playful challenge in your voice.
The next five minutes passed in a blur of color and creativity. You found yourself getting lost in the process, enjoying the way your styles melded together. When it was time to switch again, you couldn’t help but laugh at the changes Mattheo had made to your painting. The Slytherin had added a few playful touches, turning a serene sky into a playful scene with cartoonish clouds.
"Nice touch," you said, grinning at him as you moved back to your easel.
He shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. "I figured it needed a bit of character."
As the afternoon wore on, Mattheo grew increasingly confident. With each switch, he added bolder strokes and more imaginative elements to the paintings. His hesitation gave way to a sense of pride and enthusiasm that was too difficult to not return. You found yourself enjoying the challenge of working with his unpredictable thoughts, the paintings slowly turning into mosaics of your combined efforts.
By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the art room, you both stepped back to admire your work. The canvases were a glimpse of color and creativity, showing the teamwork you put into it. The landscape Mattheo had started was now a dreamlike scene, with white clouds and pretty flowers woven into the hills and sky. The painting you had begun was equally transformed, full of charm and ideas. 
Your boyfriend crossed his arms, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Not bad for a guy who can’t paint, huh?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Not bad at all. I’m impressed."
He tilted his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe I’m more talented than I thought. Perhaps I missed my calling as an artist." 
"Don’t get too full of yourself, Riddle. But I have to admit, you did better than I expected," you rolled your eyes playfully at him. That was your man, after all. 
"Better than expected?" he repeated, brows furrowed as he brought a hand to his heart. "I think you mean I was brilliant."
You reached up to brush a stray bit of paint from his cheek, your fingers lingering for a moment. "Alright, Picasso. I’ll give you that. You were brilliant."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in closer. "Thanks for teaching me. I had a lot of fun."
"Me too," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "We should do it again."
He nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. "Definitely."
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putschki1969 · 4 months ago
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Kalafina Anniversary Live 2025 Pamphlet HQ Scans Part 1
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Interview with Keiko
--This will be Kalafina's first live performance in about seven years. How did you feel when you found out that the concert was going to be held?
“After each of us had pursued our solo activities, all I felt was a sense of joyful anticipation when it was decided that the three of us would be able to sing together again. I had always been following the other two's activities during the time we were apart so it felt like those seven years had passed before I knew it. Right now, I'm singing with a sense of purpose but originally I wasn't really interested in going solo, instead I was looking for a place where I could make use of my distinctive voice and feel needed. For me, Kalafina was a perfect match for what I was looking for so it's a great joy to be able to sing with the two of them again.”
--How did you feel when the three of you first got together to sing during a live rehearsal?
“Everyone was nervous for about 30 minutes on the first day of rehearsal and I think we were all looking at each other's singing, seeking some sort of confirmation, like 'how long should this note be?' Of course we have the music sheets to rely on but Kalafina's live performances are made up of a lot of improvisations created by the three of us working together. So even during rehearsals we don't just sing everything according to the music sheets. There were moments when we silently tried to gauge each other's feelings about certain sections, like, 'I'm sure we stretched this part out, didn't we?' or 'We should sing this part differently from the music sheet, right?' All of this made me think, 'Ah yes, that is Kalafina! It feels so good to be back!' I honestly had a lot of fun.”
--It's heartwarming, right? The way you can communicate without saying anything is made possible because the three of you have been working together for such a long time.
“And as soon as we remembered the way we used to feel there was no longer any need to check on each other. It really is as they say, once you get your body used to doing something, it's not easy to forget, no matter how much time passes.”
--Did you notice any changes in your singing style after doing many different things for six years?
“Of course there are aspects which are different but when all three of us come together to sing Kalafina songs, we naturally adjust our vocal power and vocalisation techniques to bring us closer to Kalafina's style, so to be honest, it felt like we were the same as before but maybe that's just my opinion. Actually, before rehearsals started, I thought that since we were getting together again after pursuing our solo activities, our singing style might change completely. But that wasn't the case at all, I felt like all three of us were cherishing the feeling of singing Kalafina songs.”
--You were able to get back on track so quickly because you had Kalafina's music as your base.
“Yes, I think so. In recent years, all three of us have been trying out a variety of songs and styles as soloists, searching for new ways of vocalisation and expression, but when it comes to Kalafina's music, we have already perfected a harmonious singing voice, so it was simply a matter of going back to our roots, this specific sound that's ingrained in us. From my perspective, I think the other two are singing in a different way than when they are doing their solo stuff.”
--What do you think of Wakana and Hikaru's vocal appeal?
“Once again, I realised that both of their voices have a solid presence. Kalafina's songs are centered around vocals and their most unique feature is a difficult melody that's hard to maintain. That's why if the voices don't have a strong presence, the impression of the vocals fades. Especially in the parts where our voices are not overlapping, or there's a transition between one voice and the other or even just a change of melody, if each voice doesn't have a strong presence, it will get drowned out. There is no such weakness in their vocals. And when I add my lower harmonies, I'm able to further highlight the greatness of the lyrics and melody. I was able to once again feel that beautiful balance between us.”
--All of Kalafina's songs have a unique worldview. Because it is so well-constructed, it's easy to get immersed in the world of those songs, isn't it?
“Every time we sing a song, I feel like a switch is turned on and I get carried away on a flood of emotions. Also, even the soft parts in the interludes can actually be important phrases that lead to a greater development, I think that's the appeal of Kalafina songs, the tension just continues uninterrupted. During these rehearsals, I realised once again that Kalafina's music is one-of-a-kind.”
--Even when you listen to it, it makes you want to hold your head up high and straighten your back. What are your feelings towards your fans right now?
“We are filled with so much gratitude that everyone can spend this moment with us, a moment that feels like a dream come true when we are finally able to sing together one more time. Everyone has their own feelings and associations when it comes to Kalafina's music, whether it's about specific songs, about an album, or how our activities have overlapped with their own lives. A live concert is when people with all kinds of feelings come together and enjoy music in the same space, and I think that in itself is a miracle. As the concert is being held in January, we want it to be a night of hope and a new start.”
--The dresses for today's photo shoot are white and the atmosphere is bright.
“There's a strong sparkling and euphoric vibe, right? *laughs* The photographer and art director took so many wonderful shots that I think they must be magicians who can manipulate light. Light is one of Kalafina's keywords, be it a ray of light in the darkness, a light of hope in our hearts or a light pouring down from the sky, all sorts of expressions of light have appeared in our songs. I think the photos turned out to be very Kalafina-esque and really fit our image.”
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havenesc · 2 months ago
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hello HELLO!! I am OBSESSED over your rancher AU,, you have such a big brain!! If youre in the mood to yap about it, i am sooo interested in hearing more!!
WOAH HI!!! thank you so so much, that means quite a bit!! I love this AU and it has been quite a joy to work on when I'm stuck in my office job or away from my own horses so :') Always happy to indulge and yap and this........ is a very long yap LOL.
I am writing a frankly ridiculously long fic about it, but this whole shit really started with ""i like jason and i like horses and i keep listening to lord huron's way out there on repeat." so here we are. rotting it out. <3 <3
I think physically removing Jason from Gotham, or from any major metropolitan area containing capes, is a really interesting idea. He lives and breathes and is born from this city. (Where's that one post calling it his wire mother?) Jason is so deeply interconnected in the machinations of the city and how she operates that by removing him, by forcing him into a situation where he cannot go back for the time being and instead has to live among people he perceives as "regular," he gets to breathe outside of the walls that Gotham and Bruce have defined for him. He gets to explore who he could be, really, beneath the masks and the death and the failed legacy of a kid who just wanted to be magic, who isn't living with his mental/emotional triggers sitting on his bedside table like a loaded gun. For once, even under a fake name, Jason Todd gets to be something other than a tombstone or the face of a tightly-run crime syndicate. Jason doesn't even bring that dying shit up all the time, but everyone else seems to hold it against him. (Probably due to rationalizing all the murder.)
He's like a shelter dog following the 3 Rules of Decompression. This guy gets a horse and gets some friends who don't really know what to make of him at first but he's a hard worker and a fast learner and he wants to work as a team, no matter how prickly and weird he is at first.
Additionally, I think it's also fun to explore what his absence does to Gotham, and how the city would react to not having an enforcer. The Batman and his brood exists, obviously, but there is an ecosystem that Red Hood understands intricately in a way that the Batman cannot and will not. He has the uniqueness of being one of the only Robins to both live poor as fuck and also experience it from Bruce's perspective -- the only other one really being Stephanie -- and he knows how to weaponize this for max efficiency. Red Hood is the wolf introduced to keep the deer population down. How does the crime scene change, how do the Bats have to navigate adapting to that radical change? When it breaks that the Red Hood is out of business, who takes charge? And at what point do you look at yourself in the mirror, say, "Yeah I fucked this one up, bring that guy back?" And what the hell do you do when you find out you can't?
Anyways! I love thinking about how vital Jason is to the Gotham Social Fauna. I also love thinking about how his blue roan gelding, Blue, is a descendant of Doc Bar. I love thinking about the plates in McLaren's tibia because he got nailed by a bull in the exact perfect spot for the damn bone to split in half. I love thinking about Jason experiencing nature, and Glacier Park, and for once in his life feeling so small and insignificant in the world that his problems actually feel the distance they are from him. I love thinking about him finding the connections with people who have always been receptive to him in some way, even when he's a bristling scared snarling dog, because even if Jason Peter Todd is convinced that he is unlovable and irredeemable, nobody else knows that shit. So you might as well put your foot in the stirrup and come along because we need you and your resilience and your strength and your laughter and your good-heartedness to get through another twelve hours in the saddle together.
Also, these two songs in order on my fucking jason rancher au playlist are very jason and dick coded and listening to them makes me want to lay on the floor and stare at my ceiling for about three hours. Actually this whole thing is a love letter to lord huron.
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 year ago
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My dear lgbt+ kids, 
So, you have been in a relationship for a while and you’re ready and eager to take the next step - but your partner isn’t. What now? 
The “next step” I’m referring to here could mean a lot of different things because relationships do not all follow one specific timeline (and also because my readers may be of wildly different ages and live in wildly different situations) but I am thinking of any “deepening our commitment” things here: for example introducing them to your friends or your family, moving in together or (if you are in a situation where that’s a legal possibility) even marriage or having a child together. 
Whatever the step actually looks like, you may have this romantic idea of “If they’re right for you, you’ll always naturally want to take these steps at the same time”… but that’s not really how relationships work in real life. Even in the healthiest relationship and even if you absolutely feel like they’re your soulmate, you may still disagree on when to take those steps or even on whether you want to take these steps at all. 
In fact, it’s uniquely frustrating if everything else is going well. If their refusal to meet your mom is just another point on the long list of behaviors that make you feel like they don’t really care about you, that’s also painful but it’s easier to give advice there: maybe you should think about breaking up. It’s tempting to believe that you can make them love you more if you move in with them or that they’ll treat you better once you get engaged, but that won’t work out. You can’t fix a broken relationship by deepening the commitment - commitment needs a stable foundation to grow. And this doesn’t only go for outright abusive relationships: they may be a wonderful person but you two just have entirely different goals and needs, and those won’t suddenly overlap more just because you moved in with them or married them. 
With all that being said: if there IS a healthy and stable foundation, if you are happy in every other aspect and they’re just hesitant about this one specific step, then jumping straight to “break up with them” would obviously be pretty unhelpful advice. Differing opinions occur even in the most compatible couple, you are both whole people with your own individual feelings and those do not necessarily doom the whole relationship. It’s important to see this situation in the context of the relationship in general. 
You may be able to guess that a big portion of the advice is just gonna be “Communicate with your partner” - but first of all, I’d advise you to have an open and honest conversation with yourself. Why is this step of commitment so important to you? What does it mean to you? Do you feel a sense of urgency in taking it and if so, why? Is this specific step the only possible path for your need to be met? Are you open to alternative approaches, are you open to waiting (and if so, for how long)? The purpose of these questions is definitely not to convince yourself to give up on your needs or to talk yourself into a compromise you’re not really happy with! The opposite of that, actually: It’s helpful to reflect on what exactly you want and why you want it, so you have the clarity you need to discuss it productively. You don’t want to agree to something that ultimately leaves you unsatisfied and bitter, but you also don’t want to push hard for something you later on realize doesn’t even mean that much to you. 
When you feel confident enough about your own stance to discuss it with your partner, the most important thing to remember is: you’re on the same team. The goal here isn’t to “win” or to change their mind, but to see each others perspective better and find a solution you’re both happy with. Listen with an open mind. Try to understand before you try to influence. Remind yourself that your partner isn’t your enemy, they also want the best outcome for both of you - otherwise you (hopefully) wouldn’t want to commit to them! 
Something you should get clarification on during your conversations: is it a hard no (do not want to do that at all ever), a soft no (open to alternatives or adjustments), a no for now (want to do it but not yet), a yes but (want to do it but only under certain circumstances or in a different way than your original plan) or a I don’t know? How does this affect your feelings on the situation? (I’m sure that even just while reading these different scenarios, some instinctively feel better or worse than others! But it’s still important to take some time to sit with any new information that comes up during those conversations. Neither of you should feel pressured or rushed here!) 
You may find that they just never considered that there may be multiple approaches to that step (an example for this would be that they are not actually opposed to the idea of being married to you, just to the idea of a wedding, and didn’t consider yet that eloping is also a possibility) - but don’t set yourself up for disappointment by expecting the conversation to 100% go that way. It may also be a hard no, and that wouldn’t make them a horrible person. People can deeply, truly love someone and still do not want to take certain steps with them. It’s a good idea to remind yourself that you’re not “in the right” or “the better person” for wanting to take those steps. While certain steps may be a big part of your own future plans or even of your identity and self-image (and that’s valid!), they are just personal preferences. It’s not a moral obligation to want them, and your partner isn’t mean for not wanting them. But, of course, at this point we also need to say: if you can not imagine a life where you never get married, you are not a horrible person for breaking up with a partner who can not imagine to ever marry. “Irreconcilable differences” are a common breakup reason for a reason. 
So, to summarize: Building a strong foundation is crucial before taking big steps. Communicate openly with yourself first - understand why you want to take this step and if there are alternatives. When talking to your partner, remember you're a team; it's not about winning but understanding each other. Be open to different responses, from a clear no to conditions on a yes. Do not pressure your partner but do not completely give up on your own happiness either. 
The journey of commitment should be a shared adventure - not a battle or a competitive race! 
With all my love, 
Your Tumblr Dad 
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