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gloomy-kitty · 5 months ago

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𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

minors don’t interact!!!!! 18+ only mature content under tab

synopsis : sol was obsessed with you the moment he laid eyes on you. you were his soulmate. he’d make sure no one else would touch you. he is the only one who can satisfy you. don’t you know that?

warnings : yandere, masturbation, obsessive behavior, stalking, somnophilia, cnc, dubcon, predatory behavior, smut, long word count, drugging, grinding, penetration, very rough sex, whiny submissive Sol at one point, and dominant Sol at another point.

author’s note : if you just want to read smut skip to sections with the 🍋 icon

long word count (11.7k+ words) i mean this might as well be split into different chapters but i don’t want to do that, also i decided to change him referring to you as pumpkin to something else sorry. gave him a tongue piercing because it sounded fun >:3 also i hate tumblr formatting so read on ao3 if you want . (gloomy_kitty)

also not 100% lore accurate

thanksss to my friend who proofread this for me!!

Sol was obsessed with you and had been since you first arrived at the school. The moment his scarlet eyes landed on you something strange was awakened within him. It felt like love at first sight—no it was love at first sight. Did you remember your first encounter? No, it was so long ago you probably hadn’t. He did though, he remembered how he felt so vividly. His heart pounded in his chest, butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and his breath hitched making it difficult to breath the moment he had seen you. That cute library assistant that worked on campus. He remembered how he had walked up to you at the counter, asking for a book for class. How you went out of your way to help him find it, not complaining a single time.

“You absolutely need this book for your class right?” You asked him, sighing in defeat after nearly an hour of searching the library.

“Yes, but if you can’t find it don’t w-“ Sol began, a bit irritated that this was required for his passing grade. But he’d just ordered it online and prayed it arrived on time before finals.

“No. I know we have it. Don’t worry I’ll find it. Just give me another day. Here write down your info and I’ll give you a call once I do.” You said determinedly, sliding a sticky note and pen towards him. “O..okay.” He mumbled and wrote down his information. He fully expected you to not ever find the book or just forget to call him to let him know of your findings. But the very next morning he received a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” He answered.

“Hi this ______ from the school’s library. I found the book you were looking for. It’s reserved at the front desk. If I’m not here just let whoever is at the counter know your name.” You said, he could tell that you were quite happy.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock, you really found it. He responded back with a simple thanks and during a free period he went to the library. There he saw you shelving away books, a content expression on your face. Awkwardly he walked up to you clearing his throat, when he realized you had an earbud in. You jumped in surprise, dropping the book you were holding. Then, at the same time you and Sol reached down to grab the book. Your hand on top of his for a brief second before you pulled away. It felt like a bolt of electricity shot through him. “Whoops! Oh hey you’re the guy from yesterday!” You laughed quietly as he handed you back the book. With that you checked him out reminding him that late fees would occur if he didn’t bring it back on time. You explained how you stayed over an hour after your shift to find what he was needing, then it turned out it was in the completely wrong genre! A historical book tucked away with comics, how egregious!

When Sol asked why you did that you shrugged, simply saying, “I don't want anyone to fail their first semester because I was too lazy to find a book for them. It’s my job after all.” You flashed him a smile. As you handed it over your fingers brushed over him for another brief moment. That same electric feeling coursed through his body. It was that moment something had awakened inside Sol. He was obsessed now.

That memory played in his head for over a year, he had found out your first name. One day when sitting in the library “studying” he overheard you telling a blonde girl about how excited you were for your art class in the fall then you explained what period it would be. Since there was only one introduction to art class that fall semester for the period before lunch, he was going to enroll in art class regardless so might as well make sure he was in yours. Everything had been planned out. Sol didn’t leave any detail forgotten.

He got to class early, sitting in the back of the classroom. He placed his backpack on the chair next to him and anyone he tried to sit next to he glared at, causing them to scurry away. Now he just needed to wait for you to arrive, you’d have to take the only available seat open next to him in a full class.

Like he planned There were no more seats left in class, you had arrived a bit late, only barely beating the bell. He watched as your eyes darted around the classroom looking for somewhere to sit, then a relief look washed over your cute face when you spotted the open seat next to him. Quickly you made your way over pulling out the chair, “Is this taken?” You asked him, already beginning to slip off your backpack.

“N..no.” Sol replied avoiding your gaze, he was focused on his sketchbook, his pencil tapping against the book as he tried to control his breathing. “Oh thank god.” You sighed in relief, finally taking your seat. Rummaging through your backpack you pulled out all the essentials you’d need for art class. It worked. His plan went perfectly!

Sol found it difficult to concentrate on the professor’s words as he discussed basic art fundamentals, he just kept glancing over at you. Your perfume smelled so intoxicating, it drove him wild. The way you studiously jotted down notes was so adorable. Then class ended much to the man’s horror, he hadn’t written down a single thing but most importantly you gathered your things to leave without saying a word to him. He lingered in the classroom a bit, slowly shoving his sketchbook back into his backpack.

A couple days passed before he could see you again, and the whole time he found it difficult to think about anything else other than you. Sol was a bit angry at himself for not even speaking to you, that was his chance to reintroduce himself. He would talk to you next time, he promised himself.

The next class came and you were once again in the same predicament as last time. Arrived to class right before the bell went off and the only seat opened was next to the same guy as before. Not that you minded, he seemed nice enough. “Hey.” You greeted him quietly as you sat down before taking a seat. “Hi.” He returned your greeting quietly. He once again didn’t speak to you and that cycle went on for some time, before finally he had an excuse for the two of you to speak. He wasn’t sure why he kept shying away from you. Shit, he could barely even concentrate in class.

Then the next class came. “Everyone, please pair up with the person beside you, I want you and your partner to discuss today’s chapter.” The professor mumbled as he took a seat back down at his desk, immediately kicking his feet onto the desk and tapping away on his phone.

Turning around with a sigh you looked at your partner with a smile, “Hi. Thanks for always saving me a seat. I’m ______.” You introduced yourself, then gave the dark haired man an encouraging nod to speak. I know what your name is. He thought. Sol rubbed the back of his neck, nervously avoiding your eyes, his gaze fixated to the side. “Yeah it’s no problem. I’m..Sol.” He introduced himself back, hoping that maybe you remembered him.

“Nice to meet you, Sol.” You chimed in reply, holding your hand out. He looked at your hand, then back at you before he shook your hand back. “Yeah, same.” He said, a small smile making its way to his pierced lips. The moment your hands touched, he felt his heart do a leap, and without meaning to he held onto your hand for a bit longer than usual. Though upon realizing that, he quickly pulled his hand away. Either you didn’t mind or just didn’t notice it, as you immediately turned your attention back to the textbook. So you didn’t remember him, that was okay it’s not like he ever went out of his way to speak to you at the library.

“So, this chapter…” you began as you pushed the textbook to the center of the table so you both could share. Sol didn’t speak too much, he was more interested in what you had to say, he nodded attentively and hummed in acknowledgment when he agreed with something you said. The professor didn’t seem too interested in teaching class, so the reminder was spent just conversing. You giggled as Sol said something as you playfully slapped his arm, “What, no way? You did not!” You quietly exclaimed as Sol told you a story. He nodded, “Yeah I really did. It’s embarrassing but it’s the truth.” He laughed softly. Every single fucking thing was so adorable about you; your name, laugh, appearance, personality, every single thing was so adorable. Then just as Sol was about to open his mouth to speak again, the bell rang.

Jumping up in your seat, you pushed the chair back, quickly gathering your belongings. “I gotta go, Sol. But you’ll save me a seat again right? I really enjoyed talking to you.” You asked, looking at him with the cutest expression. “Yeah of course.” He reassured you. “Thanks, you’re the best!” You said and with that, you rushed out of the classroom.

As Sol finished gathering his own belongings, he noticed something sitting on your chair. Your jacket was left behind. He grabbed it and quickly walked out of the classroom to see if he could catch up to you, but of course you were nowhere to be seen. ‘I’ll hold onto it. Give it to her next class.’ He thought to himself.

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“Woah, that's a cute jacket! You seeing a cute girl?” Hyugo asked his friend. The pair sat at their usual spot on the rooftop eating their lunches. Sol rolled his eyes, “No. The girl who sits next to me in art left it, I’m going to give it to her next class. I just didn’t want it to get lost.” He explained as he continued to eat. He could bring it to you at the library where you worked part time but no, he just wanted to hold onto a bit longer. It was a cute jacket, he couldn’t lie - it was black with striped sleeves and an adorable black cat patch was ironed onto the front. It suited you perfectly.

“Aren’t you so sweet?” Hyugo teased, causing his friend’s face to heat up. Sol grumbled under his breath as he just ignored the comment and continued to eat, only causing the other to laugh. As the bell rang, signaling that their final class of the day would begin and marking the end of their lunch break, the pair stood up. Sol gathered the bento boxes, placing them in his backpack.

“Are you doing anything after class?” Hyugo asked before they parted ways. Sol wasn’t, but he needed to spend some time alone, there was an issue he needed to take care of. “Yeah.” He simply responded. “Aw okay, I’ll just go to the arcade by myself then.” He shrugged before walking off.

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It was dark already when Sol arrived back to his small studio apartment, the short winter days meant it would always be night when he got home. The dark haired man sat his bag on a chair, taking out the bentos to wash. He remembered your jacket was still in his hands, so carefully he placed it on the top of the couch. And so he did his usual evening routine; cleaning dishes, cooking dinner and lunch. The television was playing a show he really had no interest in watching, but it was good background noise.

But he just couldn’t stop thinking about you, eyes flicking to the jacket on the sofa as he prepared his and Hyugo’s lunches. Sol felt the crotch of his pants tighten uncomfortably against him, he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as his heart rate accelerated. But he remained focused just hurrying to finish dinner as soon as possible so he could shower and lay in bed. Tomorrow was early classes after all.

Finally after some time Sol had showered and flopped onto his bed, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus on anything other than you. But his boxers were so incredibly tight, his erection wouldn’t go away no matter what he tried to do. It felt wrong to touch himself to you, so resisting the urge Sol finally fell asleep. Tonight at least he was able to resist the urge.

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The next day of classes came and nothing extraordinary happened. Sol couldn’t spot you anywhere, he supposed he would have to wait until tomorrow to see you and return the jacket. His evening routine was more or less the same, but as he laid in bed tonight, the urges were getting harder and harder to resist.

Sol tried to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else other than the raging erection in his pants right now. His gaze kept flickering to your jacket, he was reminded of how amazing you smelled. He just wanted to smell the perfume again, there was no harm in that…right? Quickly getting out of bed, he snatched your jacket from the couch, immediately pressing it to his nose. Oh god, you smelled so fucking good. He was intoxicated by the scent, his eyes rolling back as he took in your smell, and without even realizing what was happening, his hands trailed down his torso until they slipped under the waistband of his boxers. His long slender fingers immediately wrapped themselves around his erection.

Sol began to pump his cock, a whimper leaving him as his thumb grazed over his tip. Precum was already pooling at the slit, his face still buried in your cute jacket. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have his face buried in your hair, neck…your pussy. He fantasized how amazing you would taste as his face was between your thighs, he’d make you feel so good. He had wanted you for so long now.

“_____…._______….” Sol whimpered your name, scarlet eyes fluttering shut as his pace quickened. At this point he was panting heavily, a complete mess and if your mere scent was doing this to him, he couldn’t imagine how he’d act during the actual act. His cock twitched in his hand and legs trembled; he collapsed onto his knees. He was now thrusting himself eagerly into the palm of his hands, precum lubricating his cock. Sol’s moans echoed throughout the apartment and he felt the warm sensation building up in his core, then with one final thrust he came loudly. “Oh fuck ______!” He cried out, his cum making an absolute mess of his boxers.

Riding out his orgasm he finally came to a stop and dropped the jacket onto the floor. His chest moving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, the whole of his body was a hue of red and warm to the touch. Dark hair sticking to his face from the beads of sweat that had formed. He made sure to toss your jacket onto the couch before he removed his hand from his boxers. A wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over him when he saw sticky cum coating his hand. I shouldn’t have done that. It felt so good though. He thought with a sigh as he stood to his feet. I should go wash up.

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Class was the next day, and that meant Sol could finally see you, he could return your jacket. He waited until after class, when you both were in the hallway. A part of him debated on not giving it back, he wanted it forever, to always have you with him, but he decided against it and it was worth it. The look on your face when he had handed you your jacket back was worth it. “Oh my gosh, Sol. I was so worried I had lost my favorite jacket forever. Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you hugged him briefly, before you slipped it back on. “Yeah..of course. I tried looking for you yesterday to return it but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” He explained. A tinge of red evident on his pale features as he was reminded of what he did the night before with it. He violated your poor jacket, but of course he would never tell you that.

You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively, “Sorry about that! I was in such a rush to leave. My other job needed me to cover a shift.” You explained. You had another job besides the library?

But he didn’t mind; he was just glad he could keep your jacket safe from anyone else. Fumbling in the pocket of your pants you pulled out your cell phone, “We should exchange numbers! Just in case one of us needs to get into contact with each other.” You suggested, swiping your finger across to unlock the device. He watched as you typed away on the screen before handing it to him.

Sol’s heart was beating so quickly now, you were really asking for his number? He looked a bit uncomfortable, like he was rejecting your offer, because you began to pull away your phone looking at the floor embarrassedly. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t ha-“ you began but he cut you off, gently snatching the phone from your hand. And within seconds he typed in his number, he already noticed you made a contact name for him. Sol ☀️

But something else caught his attention as he felt the phone vibrate in his hand.

Crowe 🐦‍⬛ : You’re still coming over tonight, right?

Something inside of the dark haired man awakened when he saw that text. He froze in place, his blush that tinted his features now went away. Who the hell is Crowe? He thought bitterly. Your boyfriend or a coworker? He only snapped out of his thoughts when you retrieved your phone back, your thumbs danced across the screen then he felt his pocket vibrate.

“Did you get it?” You asked curiously, tilting your head so cutely to the side. “L-let me check.” Sol quickly said and pulled out his phone. His boring black phone background was illuminated with your text.

Unknown: hii! it’s ______ :D

Without a moment of hesitation he saved your contact. ______ 🌙

His contact was saved with a sun by his name so it only made sense that you were the moon. With that, you two said your goodbyes and Sol watched as you walked down the hall, he stood in his spot with a small smile on his lips.

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It was the weekend which meant Sol would do his weekly cleaning of his apartment. Loud music echoed throughout the apartment as he cleaned, humming softly to himself. Something caught his eye as he was vacuuming under the couch, a small piece of rectangular plastic glittered as it caught the light from the ceiling fan. Crouching, he picked it up and his eyes widened instantly when he realized what it was. Your ID had fallen out from the pocket of your jacket, he assumed. And all of your information was on it.

“______ ______..” Sol whispered your full name. He didn't know what it was before. Your address was there too, and it looked recent, judging from the picture and expiration date. The card shook ever so slightly in his fingers as he was practically salivating that he would now be able to find so many more things about you.

Halting his cleaning for the day, he shut off the music and instantly opened up his laptop to begin searching your name online. Hours had passed, day turned into night. Sol’s scarlet red irises were glazed over, his lips dry and mouth a bit parched. He hadn’t left his laptop screen in hours, too engrossed with finding out every single detail about you. Your social media wasn’t private, how foolish of you. And he scrolled through the dozens of pictures you had posted, finding out everyone you associated it with. The page refreshed and a new picture was posted. You are with a group of people at what looked like a bar, with the caption: Love my friends!! Tonight was so fun, let’s do it again!! :D

Sol remembered the text from this “Crowe” earlier and he began to examine the picture, trying to find out who this Crowe was. His eyes narrowed when he saw the man next to you in the picture. A long haired brunette with tan skin, he swore he had seen that face before. This Crowe was behind your frame, hands resting on either of your shoulders. To anyone else they would have assumed that you and the man were friends, nothing in the pose indicated anything romantic, but to Sol it was too much. He didn’t want to see another man behind you touching you like that. Standing up he slammed his laptop shut and decided he needed to go to bed before he got too consumed by his jealousy and anger.

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As days turned into weeks, then eventually into months, Sol and you grew closer. You were regularly texting and hanging out. He had found out that your lunches consisted of junk food, and that was even if you brought lunch to campus. So he decided to start prepping your lunches, and even dinners as soon as he found out you ate cup noodles nearly every night. God, you were cute albeit a bit useless, he didn’t mind cooking for you, it only made him feel wanted - and the look on your face every time you ate his meals just made him filled with so much joy.

You were so kind and introduced him to your friend group, Crowe was kind enough and he kept his hands off of you in Sol’s presence. But he knew that man looked familiar, and Crowe looked at him with suspicious eyes and a fake smile. Sol only remained cordial with your friends though, if they made you happy he’d pretend to be friendly with them. But the man never returned your ID, it was his now. You complained about having to buy a new one, but he made sure to slip some extra cash into your backpack one day when you weren’t looking. The text he received that night was so adorable. “Omg Sol I found some cash at the bottom of my backpack. I’m eating good tonight! >:3”

It was so worth it. But Sol had a dirty secret that he couldn’t tell a living soul. He was slipping sleeping medication into the dinners he made you, he made a copy of your apartment key, and he was letting himself into your home every night. It was all in an attempt to make sure you were safe!

“My neighborhood is so unsafe. I really need to find somewhere else to live. There’s been so many recent break ins and assaults, and I live at ground level.” He remembered you complaining.

“You can stay at my place, _______. It’s a decent neighborhood. Lots of old people, so it’s quiet.” He offered.

“Sol! No, I can't do that. You already do enough for me. I got new locks on everything and alarms.” You retorted with a pout. He knew you wouldn’t change your mind, you weren’t that type of girl. You were independent, but that was okay. Sol would still keep an eye on you. Knowing you kept a spare key hidden away, he found it and while you were at work he had a copy made, then placed the key back without you being none the wiser.

Tonight wasn’t any different, Sol waited until you were asleep and he slipped into your quiet, dark apartment. He could navigate your home in the dark. That's how familiar he was with the layout, but the dim street lights also did aid him. Your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he quickly made his way in.

The streetlights illuminated your room, he saw your sleeping form on the bed, one hand hanging off the side of the bed and your blankets messily thrown on top of your body. In fact, the blankets barely covered any of your body. You wore an oversized t-shirt and the cutest panties - the shirt was raised and exposed your bare torso. “Were you waiting for me dear?” He whispered as he knelt down at your bedside. Folding his hands on the edge of the bed, he rested his chin on top, his gaze was so loving - but there was something so dark about the way he looked at you. Raising a hand up, Sol’s slender fingers brushed aside the hair on your face. “So cute…” he breathed out.

You shifted, your eyes squeezing shut as a quiet groan left your lips. When you moved through, your shirt lifted just a bit more, revealing your breast partially. Sol felt his face grow warm and he tried to avert his gaze, but it was like you were practically begging for him, looking so cute and innocent. He choked back a moan as he felt his dick get hard, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of your limp hand and he placed his cheek into your warm palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a content sigh, “You're asking me to do something, huh dear?” He mumbled. That had to be it or why else were you wearing such an outfit is that why you left your bedroom door opened? You were inviting him in, right?

Sol leaned down to press a kiss to your exposed neck, he nibbled softly at the skin. A quiet whimper escaping you as your brows furrowed. So cute. He thought, still nipping at the skin, leaving a faint red mark. His hand trailed down your neck until his fingers reached your breast, he gently massaged it for a brief moment. Another quiet whimper came from you. He let your hand that was cupping his cheek fall onto the bed for a moment, as his fingers fumbled with the belt of his pants and with a swift motion his dick was out. Already hard from anticipation, he positioned himself in your hands, he laced both your and his fingers together. He let out a moan feeling your fingers wrapped around his dick.

His whole body shuddered in pleasure at the feeling, and he buried his face between your breasts to quiet his moans as he began to rock his hips back and forth. His sensitive tip fucked your palm as he moaned out your name from between your breasts. Tears pooling at the corner of his closed eyes as pathetic needy whimpers left him.

“You’re mine. Mine..you’re mine ______. I love you so much.” He cried as he felt himself about to cum. Then, with another thrust he came hard into your and his laced hands. As he calmed his breathing down he slowly lifted his head up, you were still asleep, oblivious to the lewd act he just made you do. “You’re so beautiful, dear. You feel so perfect.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Standing up he pulled his pants back on, then walked to the bathroom to wash his sticky hands. Grabbing a rag he wet, he walked back to clean up the mess he left on your hands. “Crowe..the paper...” you mumbled in your sleep. Sol’s scarlet eyes widened in shock at the name, why were you talking about him when he was right here. His fists clenched and eyes narrowed, a dark cloud casting over his face. “You really ought to stop talking about him, dear. Crowe doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand you like I do.” He hissed through gritted teeth. You were just confused - that’s okay, Sol was patient. He leaned down to press a kiss against your lips once again before wishing you a good night. With that, he quietly slipped out of your apartment.

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The final day of class before winter break came the next day. You and Sol sat in art class together, sketching your final assignment. The classroom was quiet as everyone worked. You kept glancing at the dark haired man next you, a faint blush on your face as you remembered the brief dream you had of him last night. You dreamt that he was having sex with you, you heard his moans as he fucked you. Then, just before the dream actually got good, your mind decided that all of a sudden you were going to dream about you and Crowe finishing up your finals paper for English class that you had done earlier yesterday. God! Why did his stupid pretty face have to ruin the best dream you ever had!

Class couldn’t end any sooner and the Professor motioned for everyone to turn in their assignments. He reminded the students to check their emails during the winter break to see their grades. You quickly stood out of your seat, the chair nearly falling back as you fumbled with putting your things away. Sol noticed that something was off about you, you wouldn’t look at him at all. Surely you didn’t know what he did with you last night, right? He slung his backpack over his shoulder as he watched you as you zipped up your backpack. “Want to go to the arcade?” He asked you suddenly, “Hyugo and I are going since classes ended early today. Like right now.” He added.

Snapping your head up, you actually looked at him for the first time today. Your eyes meeting his, “O-oh…umm. I’d love to but I don’t have any…money.” You mumbled, voice trailing off at the end. “Campus library let go of all the part timers a few weeks ago, remember? And my other job cut my hours. So it’s tight right now.” You sighed sadly. “I wasn’t asking you to pay. I just asked if you wanted to come with us?” He said.

Sol noticed a strand of hair hanging in front of your face so reached a gentle hand up to brush it aside, tucking the strand behind your ear. “I’ll pay. You know I’ll always take care of you, ______.” He reminded you with a kind smile that made your heart flutter. It was something he always told you, you weren’t sure why he was so kind to you when you had nothing to offer him in return. You were a broke college student who couldn’t even cook your own meals. A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you shyly looked away, “O..okay. Then yes, I want to go.” You shyly said as you tugged at the sleeves of your favorite jacket.

“Alright, good. Here I’ll carry your bag. Hyugo should be waiting at the entrance.” Sol said, taking your bag from you with a swift motion. You tried to protest but he was already walking ahead so you were more focused on catching up to him.

The walk to the arcade didn’t take long, but you were shivering from the cold winter breeze. Sol noticed you shivering and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to him. You looked up at him before looking away shyly. Once inside the arcade, the three of you played games for some time. You pointed at a claw machine, wanting to win the cute cat plushie, you tapped at the glass before looking back up at Sol with big pleading eyes. “Aw, it's so cute. Do we have enough coins to win it?” You asked excitedly. Sol patted his pockets and sighed, shaking his head. “No, but I can go get some more if you’d like?” He asked, he just wanted to see you happy.

Hyugo nodded, “Yeah let’s play some more games! Oh, let’s get some food too. I’m starving!” He exclaimed, nudging Sol’s side. Sol looked at you, waiting for your answer. “That sounds good to me. While you two do that, I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here.” You said. The pair nodded and with that you went your separate ways.

You found the restroom. It was located in the back of the arcade and once done, you hummed quietly as you made your way back to the claw machine with the plushie you wanted. But you unbeknownst drew unwanted attention to yourself; you hadn’t even stepped a few feet back out of the bathroom when you were immediately cornered by a much taller and bigger man than yourself. He backed you in between two large pinball machines, leaving you trapped. “Hey sexy. You got a boyfriend?” He slurred, it was obvious he was drunk. He had both of his arms on either side of your head so you could barely move. “Not interested.” You spat as you tried pushing him away, but to no avail. That seemed to only anger him more as he lowered his face to be at eye level with you. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll treat you nicely.” He said, though this time his voice was much darker. The stench of alcohol lingered with every breath he took. You turned your face to the side, but that seemed to only anger him and this time he grabbed your jaw roughly in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t turn away, sweetheart. Just come on let me sh—“ he began, but suddenly his hand was ripped away from your face and you closed your eyes, fully expecting to get hit. You heard shouting and skin hitting skin, you still kept your eyes shut, flinching with every sound. The noise of the arcade was too loud and you slid down the wall, covering your face with your hands as you buried your face against your knees.

“Don’t you fucking touch her! I’ll kill you!” You heard a familiar voice shout, it was then you uncovered your face and your eyes widened in shock as you saw Sol fighting with the man, both with bloody noses. Hyugo pulled Sol away while a random person held back the other man. The two men were still shouting curses at one another, though you were so overwhelmed you could barely understand what they were saying. You noticed Hyugo was having trouble holding back Sol, so you quickly scrambled to your feet and stepped in front of the dark haired man, pressing your hands against his chest. “Sol! *Enough!*” you pleaded, tears forming in your eyes. The drunk man had lost his balance at some point and fell to the floor, but he was still threatening you and Sol. The man called you every name in the book, and he was mocking you - but you didn’t care. You just wanted to get out of here. There was a terrifying look in Sol’s scarlet eyes and it turned your blood cold. “Sol *please,* let’s just go.” You pleaded with him once again.

As soon as Sol heard your voice waver, he stopped and his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and guilt as he realized that you were crying. He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry. I’m done. We can go.” He said in a panic, “He didn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t touch you?” He asked. You shook your head, “No. I’m okay.” You reassured him, just wanting to leave. Your lip quivered as you looked up at him and you simply nodded, taking his hand in yours as you dragged him out of the arcade. Though when Sol was certain you weren’t looking, he turned back to the man and spat at him before he followed you out.

Once outside you wiped your tears away with your jacket sleeve, smearing your makeup a bit in the process, but you didn’t care. You didn’t dare let go of Sol’s hand, afraid that if you did he would turn back and actually kill the man. Hyugo sighed, rubbing his temples, “We should leave before the cops get called.” He mumbled. Sol clicked his tongue in annoyance, “We didn’t do anything wrong. That low life touched ______. I just defended her.” He spat back. You tugged Sol’s hand, “I want to go home.” You sniffled. “I’ll walk her home. You go ahead, Hyugo.” He said. The blue haired man raised a brow, by the way he looked at his friend you sensed that maybe he didn’t want to leave him alone. “You’ll call right? As soon as you dropped ______ off at home?” He asked, his brows furrowing.

Sol had already wrapped his arm around your waist, your and his backpack slung over his shoulders. “Yeah, I will. See you later.” He said pulling you along to walk off in the other direction. Hyugo just nodded watching as you two walked off.

Sol didn’t let go of your waist for the whole walk home, he held you protectively, glaring at anyone who looked in your general direction. Once you arrived back at your apartment you fished around in your jacket pocket for your keys, eventually finding them and unlocking the door. “Do..do you want to come in?” You asked Sol shyly. You were really inviting him inside! He felt his heart skip a beat and he swallowed nervously, “Sure.” He smiled and stepped inside after you, setting down the bags onto a stool by the door.

You untied your sneakers and left them at the door before you looked up at the tall man. “Do you want tea? Coffee?” You asked him.

“What do you want? I can start the water.” He asked you back.

“Tea sounds good. Something relaxing.” You replied, motioning him to follow you into the kitchen. You poured water into the electric kettle on the countertop as you reached into the cabinets to grab two cups. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change real quick.” You smiled before walking off towards your bedroom to change. Sol already knew where everything was located, so he grabbed two tea bags, setting them into the ceramic mugs as he waited for the water to boil. Then a thought ran through his mind as his hand absentmindedly rested on his front pocket. You didn’t get to eat the dinner he made you for tonight which meant you wouldn’t sleep well.

So before the water was done boiling he pulled out a small bag in his pocket, and broke apart the sleeping pill, letting it dissolve in the hot water. He just wanted to make sure that you’d be able to sleep tonight was all.

When you walked back out of your room, your tea was already made and Sol was sipping on his as he leaned against the wall. He looked at your outfit, did you wear something like that on purpose to tease him? You wore tight shorts, a tank top, your favorite jacket unzipped, and the cutest bunny shaped slippers. “Thank you so much, Sol.” You smiled at him as you held the mug in your hands and slowly sipped on it. He nodded, “Of course. Anything for you.” He said returning your smile. You chatted with him for a while it was obvious that you were just stalling, you didn’t want him to leave. You were still shaken up from earlier, from both how Sol reacted and to what may have happened if he wasn’t there to save you from that man.

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You sat on the couch, legs crossed as some random show played quietly in the background. Sol sat across from you, you both had long finished your tea. He could tell you were getting a bit more sluggish, “I’m sleepy, Sol.” You yawned. “You should go..it’s getting late. Hyugo is probably worried about you.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your sleeve. Sol frowned, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I want to make sure that you’re okay.” He replied back, he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“I’m okay. I just don’t want to be alone..” you sniffled. “I think someone has been breaking into my house.” You then said, flicking your gaze up to look at him with a worried expression. Sol froze, his breath hitched in his throat. “W..what? Why do you think that?” He asked, trying to remain calm. Folding your hands together in your lap, your eyes darted around before landing back on him, “Sometimes things are out of place.” Is all you said, “So please don’t leave me alone.” You then pleaded, suddenly leaning over towards him on all fours.

Sol’s eyes flickered to your face and to the gap between your shirt, he could see you weren’t wearing a bra and he shifted awkwardly in his spot on the couch as he tried to remaining eye contact with you. Placing a hand over his crotch, he let out a cough, a dark red blush making its way to his pale features. “Okay. I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He responded, a look of desperation in his eyes. You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach when he said those words. Then your mind wandered back to the dream you had last night, you sat back legs now folded underneath you.

“Can you come lay down with me in bed?” You asked him, looking away shyly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay up much longer. Plus it’s more comfortable than staying out here.” You added. Sol found it hard to even speak now, he nodded and bit his lip. You stood up and began to walk towards your bedroom, turning off the lights along the way. Before you rounded the corner you noticed that he was still sitting on the couch, “Are you coming? You don’t have—“ you began only to be cut off by him springing up, “I am.” He mumbled shyly as he followed you into your familiar bedroom.

Your bedsheets were messily strewn about on your bed, like always. Clothes tossed haphazardly throughout the room, he watched as you shrugged off your jacket, tossing it on the vanity chair and you kicked off your slippers. You crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over your cold body. “What do you usually wear to sleep, Sol?” You asked him curiously, waiting for him to come lay down as yet another yawn left you.

“My..boxers.” Sol replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your cute gaze. “You can sleep like that here. I don’t mind.” You mumbled motioning with your hand for him to come lay down. “A-are you sure?” He stammered, already unbuckling his belt, his hands shaking a bit in anticipation. “Mhm.” You hummed reassuringly, squeezing your legs together tightly. Sol wasted no time in taking off his clothes, it was a shame the room was so dimly lit so you couldn’t see him. He sat at the edge of the bed, still unsure of what he needed to do.

You tugged at his wrist, “Lay down with me. Under the blankets.” You encouraged him in a sleepy voice. He let you pull him down onto the bed, his heart was racing so fast he found it hard to breathe. As you both now laid under the covers he could feel your body heat, you were so close to him. Your bed wasn’t big by any means, so your bodies were practically touching. “I really like you, Sol.” You suddenly said, you weren’t sure why you blurted that out, maybe it was your drowsy drugged state that made you say something you didn’t mean to.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock as he turned his head to face you. He could make out your soft features from the dim city streetlights that peaked through the curtains. Your hand now was on his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You take care of me. You’re so kind. I’ve never had anybody care for me like you do.” You mumbled, leaning over until your noses touched.

Sol raised a shaking hand to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I’ll always take care of you, ______. I’ll be here. No matter what.” He whispered back. His words were so kind and gentle, yet there was darkness in which he spoke. You blushed and looked away, your eyes closing shut as you finally closed the distance between your lips. You were a bit unsure on how to kiss him, not wanting to mess with his lip rings too much, but as soon as your lips met something clicked inside the raven haired man.

He returned your kiss desperately, not wanting to stop. Were you really doing this? Was this seriously happening?! He thought. It was a shame you were half asleep, but it still didn’t stop you from your next move. You rolled onto of him, your legs straddling his waist as you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with inexperience. It wasn’t like Sol minded though, he was also just as inexperienced. His hands were on your waist, fingernails digging into your soft skin as he let out a needy whimper when he felt you grinding against his dick.

“Do you like me, Sol?” You asked him, breaking away from the kiss for a few moments as you continued to grind against him. When he took too long to answer you paused and lifted yourself up about to get up. Feeling utterly rejected by him, humiliated. But his hands slammed you back down on top of him. A crazed look on his face, “Y-yes I do. I like you. You’re my soulmate, ______.” He desperately spoke, his eyes flickering trying to read your expression. All you heard was “yes”, as you began to fade in and out of consciousness, despite desperately trying to stay awake.

“G..good.” You mumbled against his lips, beginning to grind against him again as you cupped his face. Sol returned your kisses as he let out whiny moans of your name, begging you for more. He wanted to feel your pussy, god knows how long he had waited to fuck you. His hands let go of your hips and now tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He managed to slip them off and when he felt how wet your panties were a pathetic whimper left his lips. He pushed your panties aside and now he could really feel how wet your pussy was. His dick pushed between your folds, you shivered as you felt his tip slide over your clit. “S-sol.” You whimpered his name.

Oh god, just you saying his name so lewdly was almost enough to push him over the edge. “A-ah.” He cried out as he felt your pace quicken. He loved the way you were using him, like he was nothing more than a toy for you to hump to reach your orgasm. The head of his dick was so sensitive and he felt your clit rubbing against it. “I..I’m gonna cum.” He warned you. Sol’s fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he bucked his hips upward. “I-I wanna fuck you…please. Feel your pussy…please.” He begged, biting your lip. But you ignored him continuing to grind against his hard dick as your moans became a bit louder, your thighs shaking. You could feel yourself about to cum, but Sol suddenly let out a yell. “A-ah ahh ______.” He cried as his hot cum shot out. He threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as tears pooled in the corner of them, his back arched, and fingernails scratching your thighs enough to leave a mark and draw some blood. His body shook under yours.

You felt the warm sensation rising from your core, your clit becoming more sensitive by the seconds. Sol’s thick cum now providing more lubrication. His whimpering of your name and pleading was enough to push you over the edge and moments later you joined him in his orgasm. You cried out his name as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Honestly you weren’t sure if you were or not, your mind was so hazy. Then you suddenly came to a stop, your body shaking a bit as your eyes closed shut.

Sol caught his breath, his hands rubbed up and down your back and he realized you had fallen asleep. The medicine had taken its full effect. He wrapped his arms tightly around you pressing a kiss on top of your head a content smile on his lips. “You’re mine. Mine…you’ll never have to be alone again.” He mumbled against your hair. His scarlet eyes gazing at the ceiling as you were fast asleep against his chest. At some point he fell asleep still holding onto you, with his dick between your thighs.

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You had awoken the next morning a bit groggy, you realized you were in bed with someone and you stared down in horror as you realized that you had slept with Sol. You only remembered bits and pieces of the nights before, and your sticky panties confirmed that you two had been intimate in some way. You wiggled out of his strong arms as quietly as you could and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your phone careful to not wake him up.

After you cleaned yourself up and changed, you sat on the ledge of the bathtub typing away rapidly on your phone.

Crowe I NEED YOU NOW!!!!

What’s up? You okay?

NOOO. I think I just messed up. I think I ruined a friendship.

Woah calm down, ______. Is this about him?

YES. Can we meet up at the cafe? Please. Right now.

Yes. I’ll be there in a few.

Thanks.

With that you clicked your phone shut and quickly got dressed into your clothes from yesterday, not wanting to disturb Sol’s sleep. You peeked into your room and still saw him resting. You left the house getting your wallet and keys and tossing them into your jacket.

Sol woke up not long after you had left the house and when he didn’t feel your presence he immediately shot up in bed, panic beginning to set in. Where were you?! He grabbed his phone getting ready to dial your number when he saw a text appear on the screen.

I’ll be back soon. :3

He calmed down a bit, laying the phone in his lap as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Why didn’t you tell him you had somewhere to go? Why would you leave alone in the morning after everything that had happened last night? It was then he felt a bit angry, wondering why you were sneaking around. Snatching his phone back up he called you but you kept ignoring his calls, finally though you answered.

“Hello.” Your voice came through on the other end, there was also another voice on the other end too. It was one he recognized. It was Crowe. He felt himself grow even more angry as jealousy filled him. Why the hell are you with him?!

“Who are you with?” Sol asked, his voice as sickly sweet.

“Shhhh be quiet. Yeah, hi Sol, I’m with a friend. Don’t worry, I’ll be back home soon.” He heard you shushing Crowe. His grip tightened on the phone, if he squeezed any harder he may have shattered the screen. “When will you be back? Where are you?” He asked, this time his tone wasn’t as sweet.

“Sol…please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll be back home soon. I gotta go.” You reassured him before hanging up.

Sol was furious, he slammed the phone face down onto the night stand, the glass screen shattering. Why is he interfering? Why does she keep hanging out with him? Doesn’t he know ______’s mine?! So many jealous thoughts flowed through his head as he quickly got dressed. He freshened himself up before he left your apartment, storming on the busy streets. What you hadn’t known was that Sol had installed a tracker on your phone many nights ago. He was really trying to give you the chance to tell him where you were without having to resort to using the tracker, but you wouldn’t tell him. He had no other choice but to use it, and make sure you were okay. He had to make sure that filthy Crowe wasn’t touching you. And he needed to show the brunet who you belonged to.

It was a rainy day and he didn’t care if he got wet, he was determined to find out where you were. The tracker led him to a busy coffee shop where he saw you and Crowe sitting near the window. His scarlet eyes met bright blue ones, belonging to the last person he wanted to see. Sol’s eyes narrowed, and all the brunet did was return a sly smirk before mouthing something to you. You whipped your head around just as Sol stormed into the coffee shop, immediately making his way to the table you two sat at. He tried to maintain his composure, his chest rising with every deep breath he took as he glared at the man sitting across from you.

“Sol? H-How did you know I was here?” You asked him in shock. He ignored your question continuing to glare daggers at Crowe, who sipped on his coffee nonchalantly. “Hey there. Care to join us?” He asked with a polite smile, motioning with his hand to the available seat.

“No. ______, we’re going home. Now.” Sol demanded, now turning to look at you. He grabbed your wrist and you tried to jerk away, “Ow, Sol!” You cried out, which caused him to immediately drop your hand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his angry expression now etched into worry. You frowned, rubbing your wrist, “Y..yeah. I told you I’d be gone later. Please stop this.” You pleaded, looking at him with big eyes.

“You should be gentle with her, Sol.” Crowe scolded half heartedly. “______, you should go. Don’t keep him waiting. We can talk soon, I have to get to work anyways.” He smiled warmly at you.

“But I—“ you stammered, but the brunet cut you off with a wave. “Seriously, it’s fine. Just remember what we talked about, okay?” He winked, it was purposeful, he was trying to get under Sol’s skin and it was working.

Sol grabbed your wrist a bit more gently this time as you stood up, “We’re leaving. Bye.” He spat, glaring at the man as he dragged you out of the coffee shop. All the while Crowe watched with furrowed brows and a forced smile. He didn’t like Sol, he didn’t like him at all. But whatever made you happy, he’d tolerate.

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Sol was dragging you down the street as you squirmed under his tight grasp on your wrist. The whole time you demanded to know what had gotten into him! This wasn’t the Sol you knew. Ever since the arcade, you noticed a sudden shift in his personality, it was instantaneous. As you two arrived back at your apartment, he shoved you inside with a forceful hand, slamming and locking the door shut. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sol?!” You screamed at him as you tossed your phone, keys, and wallet onto the kitchen counter.

Sol’s eyes were narrowed still as he walked towards you, instinctively you stumbled backwards until you found yourself with your back pinned against the wall with nowhere to go. His tall frame towering above you. “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one sneaking around with that bastard.” He hissed as he slammed his palms on either side of your head, pinning you between his arms. “I’ve tolerated him long enough. Doesn’t he know you belong to me?! I’m the one that’s caring for you and protecting you. While he does nothing.” He snapped angrily.

You cowered beneath him, beginning to grow a bit scared, “Y-you’re scaring me, Sol.” You whimpered. He clicked his tongue in annoyance; he didn’t like you pretending to be innocent in all of this. Perhaps you and that bastard needed reminding of who you belonged to. Sol crashed his lips against yours roughly, you felt his tongue trace the bottom of your lip. But when you were tightening your lips together to deny him, he bit your lip causing your lips to part open in surprise and with that his pierced tongue forced its way into your mouth. One hand on your jaw forcing your head to tilt up. You tasted like coffee and sugar, he didn’t mind at all though. It suited you.

You cried against him. He was being so forceful it was terrifying. He pulled away panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting your and his lips. His hand was still firmly holding your chin. “I don’t think you realize, dear. That you’re mine. No one else can have you. Ever. I won’t allow it.” He muttered. He noticed that your eyes were watery and a sympathetic smile made its way to his pierced lips. “Aww..please don’t cry, baby. I don’t want to make you cry. I promise I’ll make you feel good. You just need to be reminded that you’re mine.” He said in a gentle voice as his thumb wiped away your tears.

“I’m scared.” You whimpered.

Sol leaned down to press a much more gentle kiss to your lips, “You won’t be for long. You’ll be feeling so good in a minute.” He purred and with that he picked you up holding you so gently in his arms bridal style as he continued to kiss your lips. Once inside the bedroom he tossed you onto the bed and hovered over you beginning to tug at the waistband of your pants. “N-no Sol.” You whined but your arousal said otherwise. The truth was you were so turned on by him. You had wanted him in this way for so long.

Sol ignored your pleas and within a couple minutes he had you stripped of your clothes. You laid on your back on the bed as you looked at his nearly naked body, he stood only in his boxers. And now with the sun peeking through the blinds basking the room in a bright light you saw just how big Sol was. His body was well toned, just perfect. You saw the erection in his pants and you swallowed nervously at just how big he was. You weren’t sure if he was even fully hard yet.

You didn’t get to stare at him for too long though as he got to his knees, kneeling in front of your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good dear. You won’t ever think of anyone else but me.” He said it almost came out as a warning. His slender hands pushed your legs apart and the look of pure lust was on his face. You tried to cover yourself up with your hands but he wouldn’t let you. “So pretty.” He whispered. God, he dreamt for so long to be buried between your thighs eating you out.

You jumped when you felt Sol’s tongue licking your pussy, the muscle dragging slowly between the slit. You felt the cold metal piercing drag along sending a shiver up your spine. He let out a moan as he tasted you. God, you tasted better than he could have ever imagined. He pushed your legs further apart and spread open your pussy, you squirmed a bit at being so exposed. Your hands balled up the fabric of the bed sheet beneath you as you felt the ball of his piercing roll over your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan. You knew you messed up when you gave him that reaction, because he immediately began to suck at your sensitive clit, rolling his piercing over it every single time causing you to moan louder. His tongue moving from teasing your clit to probing your wet hole. He wanted to taste every bit of you, this was pure bliss for the raven haired man.

“So good.” Sol praised. It was hard to focus as he sucked the sensitive bud, your head spinning as your legs quivered. He wouldn’t let you close your legs, no matter how much you tried. His tongue worked so expertly, he knew exactly how to get you whimpering under him. “Sol!” You yelped when you felt his tongue enter you, causing your hips to buck and your back to arch. It was such a strange feeling but god it felt so good. He was trying to fuck you with his tongue. Your hands tangled in his dark loose hair as you tilted his head back up to focus on your clit. “I-I’m gonna..” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as the warm sensation began to build more and more. Your breathing became more frantic and with another roll of his pierced tongue against your clit, your legs closed, Sol’s face still between your thighs as you held him there cumming all over his face. You were practically screaming his name as he continued to suck on your overstimulated clit. You begged him to stop, so he did and instead decided to clean you up.

Sol’s tongue lapped up every last bit of your juices, you tasted so amazing. He was drunk off of your scent—taste. Everything about you drove him crazy. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, licking your pussy and letting you cum all over his face. He was yours to use. “N-no more. Please.” You begged, your body falling limp.

Sol gave you one last taste, his tongue swiping up the full length of your pussy before he sat up. He licked his wet lips, “See..I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, dear.” He said matter of factly. He stood up pulling down his boxers revealing his hard dick. When you looked at him you nearly choked on your own spit. How the hell were you supposed to take him? He hadn’t stretched you out with his fingers to prepare you. “I-I can’t take you without—“ you began. But Sol leaned forward kissing you, shutting you up. “It’s okay. I’ll be slow.” He mumbled against your lips.

His tall frame towered above you, it was so intimidating, the way he looked at you with half lidded eyes and a small smile on his face. His arms were on either side of you pinning you between him. You felt the tip of his dick poke at your entrance. Sol continued to gently kiss you as he pushed himself inside you, he let out quiet whimpers as slowly filled you up. His body shuddered at the sensation, your tight pussy was everything he had ever dreamed off. “Fuck…oh god you feel so good, ______.” He moaned as he sat up now. Placing his hands on your inner thighs, he spread your legs apart as far as he could without hurting you. He wanted to see how well you took him.

Inch by inch Sol sank into you, it was agonizing how slow he went but by the look on his face he was savoring every moment. He was panting quietly trying to control himself, he did want to hear his soulmate after all. You squirmed under his strong grasp as he filled you up beyond belief. You weren’t ready to take him, he was so big it hurt. “S-Sol.” You cried, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you felt the tip hit deep inside, causing you to flinch in pain.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, dear.” He praised you. And without warning Sol snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to yelp. He couldn’t resist himself as he began to roughly fuck you. His fingernails digging into the soft skin of your thighs and quiet moans left him. He stayed quiet because he wanted to hear your sweet sounds.

He watched the face you made as every single time he hit that sweet spot of your pussy. The way your lips parted as you moaned his name and the how your back arched as he fucked you. The way your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust. He noticed the creamy white ring forming on the base of his cock. You felt so perfect, it was as if..”We were made for each other, ______.” He whispered. Sol let go your thighs, confident that you’d keep your legs spread out. He now cupped your breasts, fingertips lightly teasing your perked nipples as he watched you shudder under his touch.

Sol frowned, “Something’s missing.” He said in between pants as he continued to relentlessly fuck you. His pace was not slowing down at all, you were exhausted already, your pussy ached from how hard he was slamming into you. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to walk in the morning. “W-what?” You asked confused by what he meant but he didn’t answer you, instead leaned down to bite your neck. You cried out in surprise. He actually bit you. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck, not caring if he hurt you. After all, everyone needed to know you were his.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now running down your face. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped one hand between your thighs. You body twitched when you felt the pad of thumb rub your clit, all the while he never stopped fucking and marking you. He let out a low laugh when he felt your body twitch underneath him.

Sol could tell you were close to coming, by how your breathing became more erratic, how you held him closer. “Are you going to cum for me, dear?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, which annoyed the dark haired man. He sat up, ripping himself from your grasp and stopped rubbing circles against your sensitive clit. “You need to answer me.” He growled and just to emphasize the point, he pulled nearly all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. You cried loudly, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, “Y-yes. I wanna cum for you, Sol.” You whimpered, looking up at him with the cutest expression.

Sol smiled lovingly at you, satisfied with your answer, “You’re so cute when you beg, dear.” He spoke gently and with that he returned to stimulating your clit. Your mind was hazy as you felt your orgasm building up, you were only focused on one thing and that was coming. Your hands reached up to dig their fingernails in the skin of his bicep. “You’re so close. I can tell. Just cum for me. Please. I want to feel it so bad.” Sol begged in a whiny, desperate tone as he quickened his pace. And just like that you practically screamed his name, your body shaking as you came around his cock.

You orgasming and screaming his name was the most beautiful thing Sol had ever witnessed. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, it was better than he could ever imagine. He felt your pussy tighten around him and soon after he was coming too. Sol threw his head back as his dick twitched, coating your insides with thick cum. He was buried deep inside you, holding your thighs firmly so he could adequately fill you up. “You’re so beautiful. So pretty, full of my cum.” He mumbled, gazing down at you now.

Sol gently pushed your legs apart as he pulled out of you and watched in awe as his cum leaked out of your tight pussy. It was a heavenly sight. He sighed in satisfaction, flopping down onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around your tired body, pulling you onto his chest. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you clung into him tightly. “No one will ever make you feel this good, dear. You were made for me. We’re soulmates.” Sol said barely above a whisper as he gazed at the white ceiling. “You’re mine. I won’t ever let anyone come between us. Ever. I love you so much, ______.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His embrace tightening around you when he said that.

There was something threatening about the way Sol spoke. You were a bit scared, but you had no reason to be, right? He just loved you and you loved him. “I love you, Sol.” You sniffled. Sol just smiled at your words. He finally had you all to himself.

#fanfic #writings #reader insert #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #tkatb vn #the kid at the back #tkatb #solivan brugmansia #solivan x reader #female reader #smut #solivan brugmansia x reader

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povlnfour · 1 year ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF? — LN4

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

genre: established relationship, humour

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user2 just made a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 406,409 others

landonorris dinner date then stream, be there or be square, 6pm

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maxfewtrell did she have to show you how to use a knife and fork too?

yourusername i definitely had to show him how to fill my wine glass up when it was empty

user PUT Y/N ON THE STREAM WE WANT MORE Y/N

user if he comes on in a dress shirt i’m Dead

user oh they’ve all definitely seen the thread😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername this time it was my own stupidity that let the secret out. and i didn’t have to show him how to propose! he did it all on his own accord!

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user YOU’RE SUCH AN ICON

user only lando and y/n could accidentally expose their own engagement

user THE CAPTION😭😭 she really has kept him alive all these years huh

user ‘i wouldn’t want to think of a life without you anyway’ now if that’s not meant to be than what is

landonorris i love you

landonorris really quick whilst we’re at it,,, where tf do we keep the spare phone chargers?

yourusername oh.. oh baby. i’ll be home in 5

————

a/n: hELLO! so the snippet from this got over 200 notes and i couldn’t wait to post it because you all loved it so much!

for the rest of my wips, check out the wip game linked in my pinned post!!

all of your feedback over the last few days has made me so happy sjdjsjs, any thoughts please feel free to send i am having so much fun creating for you guys. i seriously appreciate every like comment ask and follow!! anon emojis are now listed in my bio so if you wanna chat a bunch, have a look at what’s free !

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris smau

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elikajinnie · 28 days ago

Text

P: Situationship!Heeseung X Fem!Reader (recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Situationship, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Tension, Flirting, Mature Content, Pursuing, Possessive & Needy Behaviour, Jealousy if you squint, Alcohol Consumption, Mentioned Drug Use.

Wordcount: 22k

Synopsis: For years, Lee Heeseung had been in your life—never close enough to be a friend but too familiar to be a stranger. You told yourself you weren’t interested, that he didn’t matter to you. But Heeseung had other plans cause he made it his mission to claim your attention—and eventually your heart. But love is never easy.

a/n: was watching the iconic Kuch Kuch Hota Hai when this idea came! (dont ask how) i also wanted to try something new with the title. (disclaimer! some of the scenes are written from experience)

School hierarchy never interested you—peaking in high school, the whole "king of the cafeteria" nonsense. Why would it? None of that mattered after graduation. You always thought it was a waste of time, all those petty dramas and desperate attempts to be remembered as something more than ordinary.

And yet, somehow, you were known, not because you clamored for attention or played into the social games everyone else seemed obsessed with, but because...well, you were you. Quiet, maybe. Not invisible, though. People knew your name, knew your face, even if you couldn’t recall theirs at times. Maybe it was the way you never fumbled over your words when teachers called on you or the way your presence seemed calm. You didn’t try to stand out, but you were noticed, even if you never asked for it.

Made you wonder what made you noticed.

And that question was solved pretty quickly, to be honest. All because you knew Heeseung since you were young.

And Heeseung? Heeseung was everything you’d expect from someone at the top of the high school food chain. Popular, effortlessly so. Basketball captain, the school’s golden boy, practically born to be the main character in someone’s coming-of-age movie. But beyond all that, he was still totally derpy—the same kid who used to trip over his own feet at recess, the one who cried when you beat him in hide-and-seek because he hid in the most obvious spot.

He hadn’t changed much, really. Sure, he had a little more swagger now, a charm that made people laugh at his terrible jokes instead of groan, but to you, he was just Heeseung.

You’d laugh every time someone brought him up to you, trying to see if you’d spill some secret about what he was like outside of the spotlight. “You’re friends with Heeseung, right?” they’d say, voices dipping into curiosity or jealousy. And you’d shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. Because to you, it wasn’t.

But somehow, knowing him—having that tether to someone like him—had put you on the radar, too. Even if you weren’t part of his crowd, even if you didn’t sit with him at lunch or go to the parties he got dragged to, people noticed you because he noticed you.

And that was the funny thing, wasn’t it? You never cared about being seen, but Heeseung never stopped looking for you in a room.

You were never really interested in initiating anything with him, even if he was very much 100% interested in initiating something with you.

He’d find you in the hallways, leaning casually against the wall, as if it was second nature for him to cage you in, corner you with a smile that made everything around you feel like it had slowed down. He’d ask you about your day, always interested in the little details you never thought anyone would care about. “Are you busy some day?” he’d ask, eyes sparkling, as if he was hinting at something more—something he probably expected you to say yes to.

Other times, he’d slide into the seat next to you in class, talking about his upcoming game like it was an invitation in itself. “You should come watch,” he'd say with that grin, the one that could melt anyone into agreeing. "I’ll even give you my jersey after I win.”

And then there were the parties—he’d invite you to those too, always the center of attention but always making sure you knew you were welcome. Sometimes he’d just come right up to you, all charm and boldness, flirting with you shamelessly, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His presence was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but get those butterflies in your stomach, no matter how much you wanted to stay calm.

And yet, despite all of it—the smiles, the promises, the hints of something more—you rejected his advances.

Every. Single. One.

You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in it. You wouldn’t. Even if every part of you, every part of your mind and heart, screamed to take a chance, to let yourself fall into whatever Heeseung was offering, you pushed him away.

Mostly because you knew what type of person he was now. You saw how he was with other women in school, how effortlessly he had them wrapped around his finger, how they would come to him at the snap of his finger, eyes wide and eager for whatever he had to offer. They were drawn to him like moths to a flame, following him like he was the sun and they were planets orbiting around him. And, honestly, it was hard not to see the way his charm worked, how his attention seemed to shift from one girl to the next as if it was all just a game.

A game that you weren’t interested in playing.

You weren’t just going to be another face in the crowd, another person who would fall for his flirtations, get swept up in the thrill of his attention only to be tossed aside when someone else caught his eye. You were different. You had to be.

Heeseung was the type who could have anyone, but you weren’t just anyone. You were stronger than that, smarter than that. You didn’t need to be one of his many admirers to feel valued.

So, you kept saying no, keeping a distance, watching the way he’d grin like it was no big deal, then go off to let his attention drift somewhere else. And deep down, you knew you weren’t immune to it. Maybe you never would be. But the answer stayed the same.

That didn’t mean Heeseung didn’t stop going after you.

If anything, it seemed like the more you pulled away, the harder he tried. You'd find him lingering around your classes, catching you in the hallways, or showing up in places where you didn’t expect him to be. It was like a game to him, though you weren't sure if he knew it was to you. Maybe he thought he could win you over if he tried hard enough, if he kept being persistent, kept flashing that grin and throwing out just enough charm to keep you on the edge of saying yes.

He’d joke with you, pretending to be playful, leaning in with a wink like you were both in on some shared secret no one else understood. But you knew better. You could see through the act, see the way his eyes would light up when he thought he was getting close. It was almost like a challenge to him now, something he couldn’t let go of.

But you kept saying no.

And he kept coming back for more.

You would think that someone like him would give up after rejection, after rejection. But nooooo.

If anything, Heeseung only seemed more determined with each "no" you threw at him. You’d catch him looking at you with amusement, as if he were trying to figure you out, like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, plotting his next move. It wasn’t just persistence—it was obsession in its own strange way.

He’d show up at your locker with an extra wide grin, as if all the past rejections were just another small obstacle, one he was determined to overcome. He’d ask about your plans for the weekend, your favorite movie, your favorite ice cream flavor—all these little things that seemed innocent enough but were clearly his way of getting closer to you, of worming his way in until you couldn’t say no anymore. And each time, you’d refuse, hold firm.

It was like a tug-of-war, except you were the one refusing to be pulled.

And yet, he never stopped to one point that there was a part of you that wondered, almost begrudgingly, if anyone had ever resisted him like this before. You could almost hear the chuckles of his friends in the background, no doubt betting on how long it would take before you gave in.

It did kind of surprise you when, one day, you were walking down the hallway, busy trying to find your gum in your bag, when you accidentally overheard a girl confessing to Heeseung. You stopped, pausing mid-step as you heard her voice, trembling with nerves, pouring out her feelings to him.

You looked down the hallway you were passing, and there he was, standing with his back to you, his attention fully on the girl in front of him. She was shy, her words stumbling over each other, her face flushed as she nervously admitted what everyone probably already knew. She liked him. She wanted him.

But what he did next was something you did not expect at all.

He rejected her.

The words hit you before you could even process them. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But there’s someone else I’m interested in. Someone I want." He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even seem to waver. He was polite, but his words were clear and final.

The girl stood frozen for a moment, looking down, clearly embarrassed. You could see the brief flicker of pain on her face, but she nodded and walked away quickly, her head down.

You felt an unexpected sting in your chest, a strange mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You couldn’t decide if it was relief or disappointment or... something else.

And as Heeseung turned around, casually adjusting his jacket, you quickly stepped into a side hallway, out of sight, your heart beating a little too fast for comfort. You had never expected to see something like that, especially not from him. Never from him. And it made you wonder, question everything you thought you knew about him.

Because after that moment, it seemed like he rejected girl after girl, all while still pursuing you with that same relentless determination. It was strange. You would never catch him kissing other women anymore, never saw pictures on social media of him with a girl on his lap at parties, never heard whispers of him flirting with anyone else. It was like the world around him had faded, and the only focus, the only person who mattered, was you.

No one else but you.

It made you question everything. Was he really serious about you? Or was this just some strange game he was playing, a challenge to see if he could win you over when everyone else had fallen for his charm? Or was it something more than the surface-level attention he gave everyone else? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized you were the only one he seemed to want.

But the more you thought about it, the more it made you uneasy. Did you trust him? Or were you walking into a trap?

If it was a trap, it was a pretty good one, because something changed between the dynamic of you and Heeseung. You grew more compliant, more willing to give him a little piece of your attention, a little more of your time. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him shift gears. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so certain, now seemed a little more desperate, a little more eager to make you notice him, to make you smile.

He’d go out of his way to do the smallest things just to get a reaction from you—whether it was showing up with your favorite drink, offering to carry your bag when you were weighed down with books, or trying to impress you with his random trivia knowledge that he knew you secretly found endearing. His usual cool composure was slipping, and in its place was a version of him you hadn’t seen since you were young.

And frankly, it was kinda cute.

It was like he was a little boy again, trying so hard to win your approval, doing whatever he could to get you to look his way, to see him the way he wanted you to.

You expected to play a little around with his attention, to enjoy the way he’d chase you, all while ignoring the stares you got from other girls. It wasn’t anything serious, just a game, a harmless little back-and-forth that didn’t have to mean anything. You didn’t expect it to go anywhere—after all, this was Heeseung, the golden boy who had his pick of anyone. He was just... fun to be around, right?

But how were you supposed to know that one measly party—just one event—would change everything?

It wasn’t even a big deal at first. Just a typical Friday night, with music blasting, lights flashing, and everyone packed together in some house that barely fit the crowd. You had told yourself you’d just go for a bit, maybe chat with some friends, and leave before things got too chaotic.

When you arrived, you decided to go get a drink first, something to ease your nerves. You weren’t exactly the type to jump into a party scene, so you figured a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt. You made your way to the kitchen, and scanned the counter for something that would do the trick. You found a bottle of something strong, poured yourself a generous amount, and started nursing it as you made your way through the house, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd.

The music was louder now, almost deafening, and the air smelled like a mix of cheap cologne, sweat, and the faint scent of pizza. The people around you were lost in their own little worlds—laughing, dancing, talking—but you were searching for someone you knew.

Your search didn’t take long before you spotted a group of people you knew—friends from class, a few people you’d hung out with before. You made your way toward them, grateful for the distraction, and they welcomed you with smiles and waves. You could feel the tension in your body start to loosen as you joined in, taking a sip from your drink and laughing along with their jokes.

You stayed with them for a while, catching up on small talk, sipping your drink more leisurely. The conversation shifted from one topic to another—school, upcoming plans, random gossip about who was dating who—until eventually, the music started pulling everyone onto the dance floor. You found yourself swept along with the crowd, the beat of the song pounding through the floor and vibrating up your spine as you moved with the rhythm, the alcohol in your system giving you a little extra confidence.

It was fun, for a while. You lost yourself in the music, and you could feel the tension slip away with each step you took, each beat you moved to, until everything felt… easy.

Then, suddenly, you felt strong arms around your waist, pulling you close, a warmth pressing against your back. It took a split second for the reality to sink in, but you already knew who it was based on the familiar scent of cologne that filled your senses. You didn’t have to look to be sure, but you turned your head anyway, and as expected, there he was.

Heeseung.

He was right behind you, holding you effortlessly, his grip strong yet gentle as he matched the rhythm of the music with you. His chest pressed against your back, making your breath catch for a moment.

You could feel his chin rest lightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and despite every part of you telling yourself to pull away, to keep the distance you’d worked so hard to maintain, something inside you didn’t want to.

For a brief moment, you forgot to question it all. You forgot the reasons you kept pushing him away, the doubts you had about what he truly wanted.

And when he leaned close, his voice low and steady, you felt your resolve begin to crumble as his lips just brushed your ear. "You look so good," he murmured, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Dancing like that, looking so tempting."

The words were playful, but there was something in the tone that made it clear he wasn’t just joking. You could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck.

For a moment, you felt dizzy—not just from the alcohol, but from his proximity, the way he had you caught in his orbit, unwilling to let go.

"You’re driving me crazy," he whispered, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly as if to remind you of how close he was. The teasing had a bite now and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was testing you, seeing how far he could push.

And God did he push.

Heeseung’s fingers brushed lightly against your waist, sending a ripple of heat through you. "You know," he said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper, "you’re not making it easy for me to behave tonight."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his every move, every word. But it was useless—he was too close, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t think straight.

When you finally found your voice, it came out quieter than you intended. "Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink, Heeseung," you said, hoping to inject some distance, even though your own voice betrayed how unsteady you felt.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. "Maybe," he admitted, and you could hear the smirk in his tone. "But don’t act like you’re not enjoying this."

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was locked on you, dark and intense.

"I’m not—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"You’re not what?" he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, daring you to finish your sentence.

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your heart raced, how you couldn’t seem to pull away, even though every logical part of your brain screamed at you to step back. But the warmth of his arms and the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room—it was all too much.

For once, you let yourself linger, not pulling away from his hold, not giving him the usual pushback. He noticed immediately, his smirk growing as if he had won some unspoken game between you two.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing but soft. His fingers traced small circles against your hip, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I’m just too tired to deal with your nonsense.”

“Oh, nonsense, huh?” he said with a mock-wounded expression, leaning closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your skin. “Careful, or you might hurt my feelings.”

“I think you’ll survive,” you shot back, tilting your head to glance at him. But the way his gaze locked onto yours made your breath hitch.

He laughed, the sound low and warm, as he kept still. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, the words brushing against your ear. “Admit it.”

You didn’t respond right away, instead letting the music carry you both. There was something about this that felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t pushing too hard, wasn’t making this feel like a game. Or maybe it was just the way you let yourself relax for once, let yourself enjoy his attention without overthinking it.

“And if I am?” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended, but steady enough to hold his gaze.

Heeseung’s grin widened, his confidence shining through. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep doing whatever I’m doing,” he said, his voice full of promise.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t act so tough,” he teased, “I know I’m getting to you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back just enough to put some space between you, but Heeseung wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He followed, closing the gap again, his movements unhurried. “Running away already?” he said, his tone mockingly hurt.

“I’m not running,” you shot back, crossing your arms in front of you, though the small smile threatening to form on your lips betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not convinced. He reached out, gently tugging at one of your hands, his pouty expression exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, baby. I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

You let out a laugh despite yourself, shaking your head again. “I’m not your baby , you know that right?”

“But here you are,” he replied smoothly, the grin returning to his lips. “Still talking to me, still letting me hold you like I belong to you. Makes me think you don’t hate this as much as you pretend.”

You wanted to argue, to push him away again, but before you could, Heeseung pulled you closer once more. “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly, “if you really want me to stop, I will.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t say it either. And he noticed.

Instead of gloating, though, his grin softened into an almost shy smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his hand squeezing yours gently before letting it go, as if to remind you that you were the one in control, even if it didn’t feel like it right now.

“Don’t think this means I’m giving in,” you said, trying to regain some ground, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to sound convincing.

“Sure, sure,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But I’ll take it as a win anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at him, a playful smirk curling on your lips. Leaning in just enough so only he could hear, you whispered, your voice teasing, “Maybe you should work a little harder if you want to win me over pretty boy.”

Before he could respond, you pulled back and walked off toward the kitchen, swaying your hips just enough to make a point and you felt a surge of satisfaction when you glanced over your shoulder.

Heeseung stood frozen in place, his expression both shocked and in disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide as he processed your words and the sudden shift. For once, it seemed like you had left him speechless—a rarity that made your grin widen.

You turned back around, hiding your amusement as you reached the kitchen and poured yourself another drink.

A few seconds passed, and you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his gaze burning into your back. Heeseung wasn’t one to give up easily, and you knew you’d just ignited a fire in him. It wasn’t a question of if he’d come after you, but when.

You took a sip of your drink, savoring the moment, and braced yourself for whatever Heeseung was planning. You barely had any time to react before you felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His body pressed against your back, his warmth seeping through your clothes as his arms caged you in on either side of the counter. His hands gripped the edge, locking you in place.

A low, frustrated groan escaped his lips, brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re really going to do me like that?” he murmured, his voice laced with mock pain.

You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. “Do you like what?” you asked innocently, swirling your drink in your hand as if you weren’t trapped.

Heeseung chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your stomach flip. “Walking away like that,” he said, leaning in closer until his lips almost brushed the curve of your jaw. “Whispering things you know are going to drive me crazy, and then just leaving me standing there like an idiot.”

You giggled as you leaned back slightly, your head resting against his shoulder. “You looked cute like that,” you teased, your tone dripping with playful defiance. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

“Cute?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave as his grip on the counter tightened. “I’ll show you cute.”

Before you could respond, Heeseung’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his tone softer now, though still playful. “But it’s fine. I like trouble.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, your shoulders shaking slightly as you set your drink down on the counter. “You’re so dramatic, Heeseung,” you said, turning your head just enough to meet his gaze.

Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, the grin on his face softening into something more tempting. “Dramatic, huh?” he murmured, “maybe. But you can’t tell me you don’t like it.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. “I think you like the attention,” he continued, his tone smug as his lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “You wouldn’t keep me guessing if you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure despite the rapid thudding of your heart. “Guessing? Please,” you scoffed, tilting your chin up slightly, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who keeps showing up, Heeseung. Not me.”

“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you haven’t walked away yet. If you really weren’t interested, you wouldn’t still be here. With me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I’m just enjoying watching you make a fool of yourself.”

“Is that right?” he said, his voice dipping, playful but challenging. He leaned in even closer, so close that his lips were barely a breath away from yours. “Careful, baby, or you might end up falling for me instead.”

His confidence was maddening, but it was that same confidence that made your pulse race.

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Falling for you?” you repeated, your voice steady even as your heart betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself, Heeseung.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as his hand left the counter to lightly graze your hip, his fingers lingering just enough to make you aware of every single nerve in your body. “Oh, I’m not flattering myself,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. “I’m just calling it how I see it.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’ve got some nerve,” you said, shaking your head as you turned away from him.

His eyes following your every move as you picked up your drink again. “And you’ve got some walls,” he shot back.

You paused, glancing back at him as you took a sip of your drink. “Maybe they’re there for a reason,” you replied, your tone light but pointed.

Heeseung leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. “Yeah, but the thing about walls?” he said, tilting his head with a grin. “They’re meant to be climbed.”

You side-eyed him, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you raised your glass to take another sip. “Try all you want mountain climber.”

Before he could come up with a response, you smoothly stepped away, moving around the kitchen counter to put some distance between you. His brows furrowed slightly in surprise, the sudden shift catching him off guard.

“Hey, wait a second,” he called after you, quickly sliding around the counter in an attempt to follow. The way he moved—quick but a little clumsy, as if he hadn’t expected you to slip away so easily—made you chuckle to yourself.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” you said over your shoulder, your tone full of challenge as you leaned casually against the far end of the counter, nursing your drink.

Heeseung stopped on the other side, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he tilted his head. “Oh, so now we’re playing games?” he asked, clearly in disbelief.

“You started it,” you shot back, taking another sip and meeting his gaze head-on.

His eyes narrowed slightly as if accepting the challenge. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t be mad when I win.”

“Win?” you repeated, raising a brow at him. “Pretty confident for someone who just got left behind.”

That earned a laugh from him, and in one swift motion, he stepped around the counter, closing the gap between you. “Left behind?” he echoed, his tone playful as he leaned down slightly, his face closer to yours. “Nah. I’m right where I need to be.”

Your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you quickly masked it with another sip of your drink, refusing to let him see how much his persistence was getting to you.

Heeseung’s smirk widened when you began moving around the counter again, and without missing a beat, he mirrored your steps, chasing after you. “Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?” he teased, his tone light as his eyes tracked your every move.

“You’ll have to be faster than that,” you shot back, a playful laugh escaping your lips as you darted around the other side.

His hands hovered over the counter, ready to cut you off, but you were quicker, slipping just out of reach. The look of mock frustration on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t help but grin at your small victory.

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up for a moment as if calling a truce. But you weren’t buying it—not for a second.

When he lunged, you were ready, spinning on your heel and darting out of the kitchen entirely. “Nice try!” you called over your shoulder, weaving your way back toward the dance floor, the thumping bass and flashing lights swallowing you up.

You could hear him groan behind you, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “You’re really gonna make me work for this, huh?”

You didn’t answer, slipping into the crowd and letting the press of people conceal you. It was easy to lose him in the chaos, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of him standing near the edge of the dance floor, scanning the crowd with a furrowed brow.

For a moment, you just watched him. The way he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to spot you, made your chest tighten unexpectedly. But you shook the feeling off quickly, turning back to the music and letting yourself have fun.

The crowd seemed to shift and swirl, pulling you deeper into the dance floor. For a moment, you felt untouchable—lost in the freedom of the moment.

But that feeling didn’t last long. You could still feel him, even if you couldn’t see him. And then, just when you thought you’d successfully slipped away, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and right near your ear.

“Thought you could run away from me?”

You turned your head sharply, only to find Heeseung standing there, a sly grin on his face. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks, probably from weaving through the crowd to find you.

“How’d you—” you started, but he interrupted with a chuckle.

“You really think I’d give up that easily?” he asked, his tone almost incredulous. “I told you, I’m right where I need to be.”

You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your lips tugged upward. “Maybe you’re just a little too determined,” you said, stepping back slightly, but he followed your movement effortlessly.

“Or maybe you like being chased,” he countered, his voice smooth as he matched your pace.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he caught your hand, gently spinning you back toward him, his movements seamless with the music. It was so smooth, so unexpected, that you didn’t even think to pull away. “Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low as his eyes locked onto yours.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “I let you catch me,” you replied.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he answered as he pulled you a little closer.

The space between you vanished, and for a moment, you were acutely aware of everything—his hand on your waist, his body, his gaze. It was dizzying, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stayed there, caught in the moment, wondering how on earth he always managed to get under your skin like this.

Heeseung began to sway with you to the music, his hands resting lightly on your waist, guiding your movements with an ease that felt far too natural. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just dancing, just a moment. And yet, you didn’t stop him. You let him lead, let him pull you closer, until his forehead was nearly brushing yours.

But then you noticed something. The way his steps were deliberate, not just moving to the beat but steering you. Slowly, subtly, his touch guided you backward through the crowd.

Your brow furrowed as realization dawned. Heeseung wasn’t just dancing. He had a plan.

“You’re sneaky, you know that?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and saw the wall creeping closer.

Heeseung’s grin turned wicked, a spark of mischief lighting up his face. “Sneaky? Me?” he asked, feigning innocence, though the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist betrayed him. “Yes, you,” you shot back, even as your back brushed against the cool surface of the wall. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Can you blame me? You make it so hard to keep my distance.”

You rolled your eyes, though your pulse betrayed you, hammering in your chest as his gaze locked onto yours.

His gaze never left yours for a second. The world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in just the slightest bit closer, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours, could feel the tension between you, thick and heavy.

He glanced down at your lips, then back up to your eyes, the look in his gaze unreadable. It was almost like he was testing the air between you, measuring whether you’d pull away or lean in. His hands on your waist holding you in place as if he knew you wouldn’t make a move. His breathing had picked up now, shallow and just a little shaky, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was just as affected by this as you were.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, though you knew your voice was too soft to carry any real force. The words felt weak even as they left your lips, because you knew you weren’t really trying to push him away.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and low, as if savoring the moment. “Like what?” he asked.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t—because the answer was already in the way your heart was pounding, the way your breath hitched every time he got a little closer.

And then, without warning, he leaned in just a fraction more, his lips hovering so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating from them, but he didn’t make the move. He was waiting. Testing.

You both seemed to be holding your breath.

Just as you were about to say something, the world shifted unexpectedly. A figure stumbled into Heeseung from behind, knocking into him, and before either of you could react, the person’s drink splashed all over you. You gasped as the cold liquid drenched your outfit, your heart sinking as you saw the mess, the dark stain had spread across the fabric, leaving a damp, sticky trail. “Are you kidding me?” you groaned, trying to wipe it off, but it only made it worse.

Heeseung, who had been caught off guard by the collision, quickly turned around. His brows furrowed with frustration, but his gaze softened when he saw the mess on your clothes. Without missing a beat, he pushed the person who had bumped into him away with a quick but firm shove. “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped. The drunk person mumbled an apology, clearly embarrassed, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. His attention was on you now.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing against your arm as he looked you over.

You just sighed, wiping your shirt, but it was clear you weren’t getting anywhere. “This is great,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else, “I didn’t even want to be here tonight, and now this…”

Heeseung didn’t let you dwell on it for long. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand in a way that was surprisingly gentle for all the tension you’d felt earlier. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”

You didn’t argue, allowing him to guide you through the crowd, his hand on yours was warm, and even though you were frustrated, there was something comforting in the way he took charge.

When you reached the bathroom, he opened the door for you, ushering you inside with a soft “After you,” before making sure the door was securely closed behind you. The bathroom was quieter, and the air felt colder, but it was a welcome change from the chaos outside.

“Sit down, I’ll grab you some paper towels,” he said, motioning to the counter as he quickly moved toward the sink.

You sat down on the edge, trying to assess the damage, but the sticky feeling of the drink on your skin made it hard to focus. Heeseung was quick, his movements efficient as he grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the faucet.

“You’re really going to make me clean up after you now?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though there was still a hint of irritation in your voice.

Heeseung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you the damp towels. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trying to help.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the gentle way he was treating the situation. You took the damp towels from his hands, still a little flustered by how close he was standing, how his gaze was focused on you with such intent.

“I didn’t ask for help,” you muttered, not in an angry way but more out of habit, the natural instinct to push away when things got too close, too personal.

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I know. But that’s never stopped me before, has it?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. You couldn’t find the right response. Instead, you just looked at him, your heart doing that erratic thing it always did when he was this close.

Heeseung seemed to notice your hesitation, his smile softening. “You don’t have to push me away every time, you know,” he said gently, his voice almost too sincere.

You blinked, caught off guard. But before you could respond, he stepped back, giving you space, though his eyes never left yours. “I’ll wait outside,” he said quietly, his voice shifting back to its usual tone.“Take your time.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

Heeseung gave you one last lingering look before stepping out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. As soon as he was gone, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still racing in your chest. You quickly went to work cleaning yourself up, though the mess on your clothes was much harder to fix.

Your thoughts were spinning. There was something about the way Heeseung was acting tonight, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was definitely something there, and it made your stomach twist in ways.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have this effect on you? You couldn’t figure it out, but the longer you stood there in the bathroom, the more confused you felt.

After a few more minutes, you gave up trying to fix the mess entirely. It was too late for that. Instead, you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as you entered the hallway, you spotted Heeseung standing by the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes immediately locking onto yours. “Well?” he asked, cocking his head slightly as he gave you a once-over. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, much better,” you replied, trying to act nonchalant, but you could feel your heartbeat quicken again under his scrutiny.

He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good. You look… good.” There was a hesitation before the words left his mouth, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase them.

You caught it, and for the first time tonight, you didn’t immediately push back. Instead, you simply looked at him, unsure of what was happening.

Wait.

You suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over you. The way he looked at you, the way he was standing there waiting for you, felt familiar, like it was something you had experienced before.

Your mind wandered back to a memory from when you were younger, one that you hadn’t thought about in ages. You were just a child, maybe eight or nine, playing in the park with Heeseung not too far away. You’d been running around, laughing with the other kids when some clumsy little boy—one of your classmates—spilled his drink all over you. You’d been so upset, the sticky liquid ruining your favorite shirt, and you could feel tears threatening to spill.

But then, out of nowhere, there was Heeseung. He hadn’t hesitated for a second, not like some of the other kids who were too busy laughing or ignoring you. He’d been sitting nearby, playing with a figurine in the grass, but the moment he saw you, he dropped his toys without a second thought. Without saying a word, he had stood up, walked over to you, and gently grabbed your hand.

“Don’t worry,” he’d said with that soft, comforting tone only he had, “I’ll help you clean up.”

He had led you straight to the bathroom of the park’s little concession stand, where he carefully grabbed paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, his face set in a look of determination. You remembered feeling embarrassed, but somehow his presence made everything feel better.

And now, here you were, years later, with him standing in front of you again, doing the same thing—helping you, without hesitation. It made you smile softly to yourself, the memory tugging at your heart in ways you weren’t sure how to explain.

Heeseung, noticing the smile tugging at your lips, raised an eyebrow in playful curiosity. “What’s on your mind?”

You shook your head, trying to hide the faint blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Just… thinking about something,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

He didn’t push, simply giving you a small smile, as though he understood without needing any further explanation.

Before you could think too much about it, Heeseung suddenly moved with a surprising confidence, his hand finding your waist and gently pulling you along with him. The sudden shift startled you for a moment, but the warmth of his hand against your side made your breath hitch slightly.

“You look like you need another drink,” he said, his voice low, but playful, as he guided you through the crowded hallway and toward the kitchen. He left you no time to protest, and you found yourself following him without much resistance. You’d barely processed the familiar feeling of his touch when you were already in the kitchen, the sound of music and chatter fading slightly as you both entered the quieter space. Heeseung let go of your waist once you were in the kitchen, but he still stood close.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to the counter, rifling through the bottles of alcohol, though his gaze never fully left you.

"Something strong this time?" he asked, his tone teasing but with a hint of genuine care, as though he wanted to make sure you were really okay. "Or do you want to take it easy?"

You were still caught off guard by the way he had pulled you along, the way he’d moved without hesitation, without waiting for permission.

"Maybe just something light," you replied, trying to play it cool, even though he was making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Heeseung worked quickly, his movements smooth as he reached for the bottle, his back was turned to you. But you couldn’t stop watching him—how his muscles shifted under the fabric of his shirt, how good he looked.

Heeseung eventually finished the drink and handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours again as you took the glass. For a second, you both stood there, neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was that kind of silence where it felt like something was about to happen, but neither of you were sure what.

“So, what now?” you asked, trying to break the silence, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you spoke.

Heeseung took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now," he said, "we get back to enjoying the night."

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was. "Right," you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, but you quickly recovered, giving him a small smile. "Let’s see if I can actually make it through the night without getting drenched in anything else."

Heeseung’s lips curled into a grin, and he chuckled softly. "I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again," he said, his tone playful but with an undertone of sincerity. He reached out and gently took your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

You let him lead you back into the party, the music louder now, the crowd thicker. Heeseung didn’t let go of your hand, and you found yourself walking alongside him through the house, feeling uncertain.

✰ ✰ ✰

Somewhere during the night, you had lost sight of Heeseung. He had been dragged away by his friends, caught up in the crowd, and never returned after that. At first, it felt like a strange absence, the lingering sense of him still there even if he wasn't. But after a while, you pushed it aside, deciding it was fine.

You found yourself moving through the party, chatting with friends, laughing at jokes, and enjoying yourself. And as the night went on, you slipped into the comfort of familiar faces, people you could talk to normally. You were glad for the chance to just have fun, to forget for a moment the heat that always seemed to follow whenever Heeseung was around. You were fine without him, right?

You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The noise and chaos inside had started to make you feel lightheaded, and the stuffy heat of the house wasn’t helping. A little solitude would do you good, you thought.

The cool air hit your skin as you stepped out into the backyard, a quiet escape from the party. You leaned against the outer wall, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, and for a moment, you let the silence settle around you. It was peaceful, the kind of calm you needed after the madness inside. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the chill of the night on your skin, and took a deep breath.

What you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the shadows, standing just far enough away not to be seen. The shape of a figure, leaning against the corner of the house, observing you with quiet intensity.

The moment stretched on, the backyard still and quiet, until you felt a presence shift behind you. A movement you couldn’t quite place, and before you could turn around to see who it was, you felt the brush of someone’s body so close to yours that it made you freeze.

You slowly turned your head, your breath catching in your throat, and found yourself face to face with Heeseung. His lips were mere inches from your ear as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. But something was off.

His usually sharp gaze was a little hazy, his eyes unfocused as he smiled at you—though it didn’t reach the intensity of his usual teasing grin. He looked almost… detached. Out of it.

And then the smell hit you—a sharp, pungent scent of weed mixed with the alcohol. It hit you like a wave, and you realized just how much he'd been indulging tonight.

"Heeseung?" you murmured, taking a step back instinctively, your heart picking up speed as you watched him sway slightly, his breath coming out slower than usual.

He seemed to snap out of his daze for a moment, his eyes clearing slightly as he blinked at you. "Hmm?" His voice was low, almost lazy, and there was a softness to it that you weren’t used to hearing.

You studied him for a moment, his breath still tinged with the unmistakable haze of the night’s indulgence. He wasn't himself—at least not the playful Heeseung you knew. "Are you okay?" you asked cautiously, unsure how to navigate this new version of him standing so close.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before a slow, almost dreamy smile curled up on his lips. "Yeah, just needed a break too. The noise gets... loud. You know how it is."

He swayed again, his hand coming up to rest on the wall near you, his face inches from yours.

You stood still, your heart racing as you took in the unexpected sight of him like this. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Maybe you should head back inside.”

He chuckled softly, but it lacked its usual spark. Instead, it was drawn out and almost tired. “Nah,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m fine... just needed a minute.” His fingers brushed your arm lightly as if trying to keep himself steady.

He didn’t back away, though, and neither did you.

You were unsure what to say next, unsure of your next move. "You’re making this... hard," you finally whispered, uncertain whether you were talking about the situation or him.

Heeseung smiled, but this time it was slow, almost seductive, like he was savoring the moment. “Maybe I like it that way,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. He leaned just a little closer, his breath mingling with yours.

Despite everything, despite all the confusion, you couldn’t stop the way your heart pounded. Heeseung had always been a game you couldn’t quite figure out, but right now, you were starting to wonder if maybe it was a game you didn’t want to win.

As he leaned in further, you had to make a decision: pull away, or let yourself fall into whatever it was that had been brewing between the two of you.

Before you could even make a decision, he made the decision for you. His lips parted, and he murmured a low, breathy compliment against your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You look so beautiful baby,” he said, and there was a sincerity in his tone that cut through the haze. But before you could respond, his hand shot up to grip the side of your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin, holding you in place. The other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. Hungry. His lips crashing against yours as if you were the air he needed to breathe, like this moment was the only thing that mattered.

You gasped into the kiss, caught off guard by the intensity of it. Heeseung’s mouth was possessive, eager, like he couldn’t get enough of you. He kissed you with a desperation that sent a rush of heat straight to your body, his hands pulling you closer, the pressure of his grip firm. It felt like everything had exploded in that moment, every feeling you’d been pushing away suddenly pouring out in a single, stolen kiss.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and even though every part of you knew this wasn’t how you expected things to go, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. The way he kissed you—like you were the last thing he’d ever touch—was overwhelming, and for the first time, you let yourself surrender to it.

His lips were intoxicating, and as he pulled you closer, you could feel the intensity in every movement, every press of his body against yours. The kiss deepened, more frantic now, as if neither of you could get enough. The feeling of him—so desperate, so needy—was something you never expected from Heeseung, and yet it was exactly what you found yourself craving.

You tried to stay grounded, to remind yourself of who he was, of all the walls you’d carefully built between you, but with each second, they seemed to crumble. His hands moved to your back, pulling you in as his kiss grew more fevered, his breathing erratic as he let out soft groans against your lips.

You couldn’t help but respond, your own hands rising to clutch at his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as if to keep him anchored to you, like the very act of touching him would stop this moment from slipping away. Heeseung’s body was solid against yours, and despite the confusion that still buzzed in the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted this—wanted him.

His breath hitched as you pulled him even closer, you could feel the way his body seemed to tremble slightly as he held you in his arms, groaning lowly, the sound vibrating against your lips as he used one arm to brace himself against the wall, the other pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. His lips were desperate, claiming, his breathing heavy as it mixed with yours.

Your hands moved without thought, one gripping the back of his shirt, the other winding into his hair, tugging him even closer. He let out another low groan, the sound so needy it sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung’s hand at your waist tightened, as if he was trying to merge your bodies into one.

Every part of you seemed to melt under his touch, all that mattered in that moment was the way he felt against you, the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands seemed to be exploring every inch of your body. His lips moved with desperation, and each breathless kiss made it harder to remember why you had held back for so long.

But then, just as the kiss deepened again, your mind caught up with you. You could feel the weight of it—the gravity of what was happening. The familiar warning signs, the confusion, the uncertainty, all came rushing back to the surface.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands gripping his hair tightly, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Heeseung, sensing the shift, finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting softly.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice raspy and gentle, as if checking to see if you were still with him in that moment.

You pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to gather your thoughts, but your mind was still clouded by the rush of the moment. "We... we shouldn't be doing this," you murmured, your voice shaky, feeling the weight of the situation. "You're drunk, Heeseung. This isn't you."

Heeseung blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy with that lazy, almost dazed look as he played with the strands of your hair, his fingers brushing gently against your scalp. He tilted his head slightly, giving you that smile—the one that always made your heart flutter, even in the most confusing of times.

He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and he spoke softly, his voice sincere "Even if I wasn't drunk," he said, his lips curling into a slow smile, "I’d still do this." His eyes locked onto yours, the haze in them making his gaze feel even more intense. "Because you're you. A pretty girl I've wanted for years."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the heat of his words curling around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. His hand on your hair moved down to gently cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "This... this is unforgettable. And I’d do it over and over again, no matter what state I’m in."

You were speechless for a moment, but you knew he was being honest, even if his current state made it hard to fully trust his intentions.

"But...," you started, still unsure, trying to hold onto your reason, "this isn't the right time, Heeseung. We both know that."

Heeseung’s lazy smile didn’t falter, though there was a longing in his eyes somthing you hadn't seen before. He slowly moved his thumb down, brushing lightly over your lips before leaning in again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Maybe not the right time," he said, his lips nearly brushing against yours once more. "But you’ve always been worth the wait."

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his hand still cradling your face as if silently asking for permission. Then, he leaned in, placing a soft, tentative peck on your lips. It was gentle and when you didn’t pull away, he did it again, this time lingering a little longer. Each kiss felt like a question, and with every unspoken answer, his confidence grew.

The next kiss wasn’t as restrained. It was deeper, needier, as though the small taste he’d gotten wasn’t enough. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, quickly unraveling into something messier. His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, while his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The kisses turned sloppy, his control slipping with every passing second. His breath came heavier, mingling with yours as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees feel weak.

You couldn’t help but respond, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung broke away just briefly, as he gasped for air, his lips swollen and glistening. “You don’t know,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with desperation. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Before you could respond, he captured your lips again, his kisses feverish, like he was making up for all the time he’d spent waiting. His body pressed you more firmly against the wall, as he completely lost himself in the moment, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece.

You tried to catch your breath, your head spinning from it all, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance to think. His lips trailed down from yours, brushing along your jaw and down to your neck, where he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent a shiver through your entire body. “Heeseung,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky. You weren’t sure what you were trying to say—stop or don’t stop.

“Say my name again,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and raspy. He placed another kiss just below your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “I love the way it sounds coming from you.”

You didn’t answer because the way he was looking at you left you speechless. His lips were swollen from the kisses, his hair slightly messy, and there was something in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. “Heeseung,” you whispered again, softer this time, your hand reaching up to touch his face. The moment your fingers brushed his cheek, he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. When they opened again, there was a softness there that made your heart ache.

Heeseung’s lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss so deep, so consuming, that it left you breathless. You could feel the way his fingers trembled slightly as they slid up your sides. One hand settled on the small of your back, keeping you firmly pressed against him, while the other moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough.

He groaned low in his throat, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine as his lips parted, inviting you to deepen the kiss. The way his tongue brushed against yours was dizzying, leaving your knees weak and your mind spinning. You responded instinctively, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.

Heeseung’s breathing was heavy, uneven, as if he couldn’t catch his breath but didn’t want to stop. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter. It felt like he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you fit perfectly against him.

Heeseung’s lips suddenly left yours, trailing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, his words slurred slightly but full of emotion. “How long I’ve wanted this… wanted you. God, you’re all I ever think about.” His lips grazed your collarbone, grounding you as he leaned his full weight into you, effectively caging you against the wall.

His rambling continued, each word pouring out like a confession. “I dream about you… about us. It’s always you. No one else even comes close, y’know that? The way you smile, the way you look at me… even when you’re mad at me, I can’t get you out of my head.”

His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your chest as he spoke, his voice husky and raw. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect. And now you’re here, and I don’t want to let go.”

His words were pure need and desperation, and the way he shielded you with his body only amplified the intensity of the moment. “Tell me you feel it too,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me I’m not crazy for wanting you this much.”

You were overwhelmed, caught between his touch and his words. Heeseung wasn’t holding back, and as much as you wanted to respond, the only thing you could manage was a shaky exhale, your hands clutching at his shirt to keep yourself steady.

Your voice wavered as you found the courage to speak, breaking through the haze of emotions swirling around you both. “But what about all the other girls, Heeseung?” you asked, your tone softer than you expected. “All the girls you’ve been with? The ones who’ve followed you around, who’ve—” You hesitated, the words getting caught in your throat.

Heeseung froze for a moment, his lips hovering against the curve of your neck, his breathing uneven. His answer was strained. “No one’s like you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “No one even comes close.”

His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You think any of them matter?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “All those girls… they were never you. Never even close to being you. I don’t care about them. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you.”

His lips found your collarbone again, lingering there as he continued. “I’ve yearned for you—God, for so long. You don’t even know what you do to me.” His hand slid down to your hips, gripping you as if to anchor himself. “Every time I see you, it’s like nothing else exists. No one else exists.”

He pulled back slightly, his dark, half-lidded eyes locking onto yours. “I’ll drop them all—every single one. I don’t need anyone else, never did. I just want you.”

Heeseung, ever the gentleman suddenly took you by the hand and led you back inside, away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. With a gentle yet firm grip, he guided you through the bustling crowd, his eyes never leaving yours, as he led your way towards an unoccupied bedroom. Once inside the bedroom, Heeseung closed the door behind you, locking out the world and creating a private haven for the two of you, as he leaned in and captured your lips in a desperate kiss.

You responded to his kiss with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, while Heeseung's hands roamed freely, caressing your back.

Heeseung only pulled back slightly, his chest heaving with heavy breaths before he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a well-defined torso.

Well this would be a fun night.

It was a fun night... but what ruined it was the fact that Heeseung suddenly seemed to forget who you were. The next few days at school were a complete shift. He avoided you. He didn’t look at you, didn’t talk to you, didn’t even so much as throw a teasing grin your way in the hallways.

No, instead, he went back to his old habits. He laughed and flirted with other girls, his charm as effortless as ever, like nothing had changed. Like you didn’t exist. At. All.

It was maddening.

But the worst part? Watching him smile at those girls with the same ease he once reserved for you, as if you hadn’t been pressed against that wall, that bed, tangled up in his words and his touch. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You didn’t know what happened. You wracked your brain for answers, trying to piece together where it all went wrong. But deep down, you should have known. Of course, you should have known.

Heeseung wasn’t the type to stay tethered. He wasn’t the type to settle. He was the type to chase, to get what he wanted, and then move on. And now that he’d tempted you, now that he’d had a taste of your attention, it seemed he’d gone on to the next woman.

Why would you be any different?

The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You weren’t supposed to care. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let someone like him get to you. But seeing him act as if nothing had happened—as if you were just another moment in his life—stung more than you wanted to admit.

And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night, the way he touched you, the way his words had seemed so genuine. Had it all been a lie? Or had he just changed his mind?

Either way, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered you. If he wanted to act like you didn’t exist, you’d do the same. Or at least, you’d try.

And you did try. You really did. Ignoring Heeseung, pretending he was just another face in the crowd—it seemed like the only way to keep yourself sane. And for a while, it felt like it might work. You told yourself you could move on, that you could forget about the way his touch had felt, the way his voice had sounded when he whispered your name.

Yeah, no. You couldn’t.

Not at all.

You realized that the moment you walked by the bleachers and saw a girl perched comfortably on Heeseung’s lap during basketball practice. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. Your stomach churned.

Nope. Moving on wasn’t happening.

And then in the hallways, you would see him leaning against the wall, his signature grin plastered across his face as he shamelessly flirted with other girls. Their giggles echoed in the corridor, and Heeseung would tilt his head, his eyes sparkling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Yeah, moving on definitely wasn’t in the cards.

Each time you saw him acting like you were meaningless, like the night you’d shared was nothing more than a passing moment, it cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

And yet, despite all of it, despite the ache in your chest and the frustration bubbling under your skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him. What would you even say? That he’d hurt you? That he’d made you believe you were different, only to prove otherwise?

No. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. But pretending it didn’t matter? That was turning out to be harder than you ever imagined.

Okay, yeah, pretending it didn’t matter was much harder than you thought. Because now, standing in the doorway of your room, staring at a very intoxicated Heeseung, all of those feelings you were desperately trying to bury came rushing back.

His hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a million times. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth skin of his collarbones, and his belt dangled loosely from his hands like he’d been too distracted—or too far gone—to put it back on properly. The faint smell of alcohol and nicotine wafted off him, making you wrinkle your nose.

This was not how you’d planned to spend your night. You were supposed to be studying, maybe finishing the next episode of that series you were hooked on. A calm night. But of course, Heeseung had to ruin that.

“Heeseung,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, trying to keep your voice steady, “What are you doing here?”

He blinked at you, his eyes glassy but still managing to hold that familiar spark that made your heart do stupid flips. “I—uh...” He trailed off, his gaze flickering over you like he was trying to figure out what to say.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”

“I know why I’m here,” he slurred, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “I just... I wanted to see you.”

You sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “Heeseung, you’re drunk. And not in your right mind. You should go home before you embarrass yourself even more.”

But instead of leaving, he gave you that boyish grin—the one that always made your resolve waver. “Can’t I stay here? Just for a bit?”

“No,” you replied firmly, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Heeseung’s expression softened, and his voice dropped, almost pleading. “Come on, don’t do this. I... I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

You hated how those words tugged at something deep inside you. Why did he always have to show up and mess with your head?

You found yourself hesitating, your hand still on the door, unable to slam it shut in his face, sighing, your hand gripping the edge of the door as you tried to keep your cool. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung," you said, your voice quieter than you intended. "I have too much going on. I'm stressed, and I really don't have the energy for this."

He didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His voice was low and teasing, with that same lazy confidence he always seemed to have. "If you're stressed, I can help with that," he murmured. "Play with me a little, and I promise, you'll forget all about it."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity. “Heeseung—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, hazy but still focused on you, sparkled with that familiar glint that always left you second-guessing yourself. “I’m really good at relieving stress. Just give me a chance.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. The sheer gall of him left you momentarily speechless.

Finally, you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the moment. "Heeseung, you're drunk. You should just go home and sleep this off before you say something else ridiculous."

He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Drunk or not, I’m still right,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned a fraction closer. “But if you really don’t want me here…” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway, though he made no actual move to leave.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to summon every ounce of patience you had left. “Heeseung,” you said firmly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. “I need you to take this seriously. Either go home, or...”

“Or?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing, daring you to finish the sentence.

Your frustration bubbled over as you only glared at him, the sight of his disheveled figure only fueling your anger. "No! Do you have any idea how mad I am at you right now?" you snapped, crossing your arms. "You ignored me for days, Heeseung. Days! You acted like I didn’t exist, like nothing happened, and now you just show up at my door like—like this?"

Heeseung blinked, the lazy smirk faltering slightly, but he didn’t say anything. That only made you angrier. "Do you even know how humiliating it’s been? Watching you flirt with other girls, pretending like what we had meant nothing? And now, you think you can just waltz in here, drunk and out of your mind and what—fix everything with a grin and some smooth words? You don’t get to do that, Heeseung. You don’t get to mess with my head and—"

Before you could finish, Heeseung surged forward, his hands grabbing your cheeks as he pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours with a force that took your breath away, silencing your ramble in an instant.

Your mind went blank, your words evaporating as his warmth enveloped you. His kiss was desperate, almost as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other stayed firm on your cheek.

You froze, your anger momentarily eclipsed by the intensity of his actions. But then, your hands instinctively pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss as you stepped back, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung, what the hell?” you whispered, your voice shaking, unsure if it was from lingering anger or the way your heart raced in your chest.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted quietly, his voice hoarse. “You were yelling at me, and I just… I missed you. I couldn’t stay away.”

You stared at him, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to pull him back in. “You don’t get to do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and think it’ll fix everything.”

“I don’t think it fixes anything,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Before you could respond, he took a small step closer, his forehead gently resting against your shoulder. His breath was warm against your neck as he hummed softly, the sound low and almost comforting. He nuzzled against your skin, his movements slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Heeseung,” you said, your voice strained as you placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. But he didn’t budge, his larger frame pressing closer as his lips ghosted over the curve of your neck.

“I missed this,” he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below your ear, his hand curling gently around your waist to hold you steady.

You tried to push again, but it was weak, half-hearted, especially as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Stop it, Heeseung,” you said, but your voice lacked conviction, and he clearly noticed.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and a little smug. “You’re telling me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, “but you’re not really trying, are you?”

Your heart raced, torn between the anger still simmering in your chest and the way his touch was making your knees feel like jelly. “Heeseung, this isn’t fair,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softer now. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry. That I’ve been a complete idiot. That I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But before you could sort through your emotions, he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your neck once more, and you felt yourself faltering.

Heeseung’s movements were subtle at first, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as he guided you further into the house. You didn’t even realize he’d kicked the door closed until you heard the faint click of it shutting.

Your distraction gave him the advantage, and before you could voice even the smallest protest, he was steering you toward the couch. His hands were steady, firm, but not forceful, leaving you confused and torn between stopping him and giving in to the pull he had on you.

“Heeseung—” you started, but the words barely escaped your lips before his mouth was on yours again, silencing you with a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving no room for argument, and when you tried to push back against his chest, your resolve faltered as he moaned softly into the kiss. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and to your dismay, a small whine slipped out in response.

His lips curved against yours as if he could sense your weakening resolve, his hands started guiding you to lay down on the couch. The weight of his body hovered close, not trapping you but leaving you with the realization that Heeseung wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, “if you really want me to, I will.” But the way he looked at you, his dark eyes full of yearning and desperation, made it clear he didn’t want you to say the words.

When you didn’t respond, Heeseung’s lips curled into a slow, almost knowing smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips once more.

This kiss was different—softer at first, unhurried but still filled with that undeniable hunger. His weight shifted slightly, his chest pressing against yours while his hand slid from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, as though he wanted to memorize every detail, every sound you made, and every way you responded to him.

You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into him, Heeseung’s lips left yours only briefly, trailing kisses along your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he murmured, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. “Heeseung… please,” you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled, making it come out weaker than you’d intended.

But he only shook his head softly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “Shh… Don’t.” His voice was low and soothing, almost pleading, as though he couldn’t bear to hear you say anything that might break the moment between you. “Just… stay with me. Don’t push me away right now,” he whispered.

Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, as if he was savoring the moment.

And you couldn’t help but let yourself fall deeper into the kiss.

✰ ✰ ✰

Yeah, you were getting pretty tired now.

After waking up the next morning to an empty bed, Heeseung having dipped sometime before you even stirred, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Disappointed? Sure. Hurt? Maybe. But surprised? Not in the slightest.

The hollow feeling lingered as you dragged yourself to school, telling yourself to just push through the day like nothing had happened. It was easier said than done when the moment you stepped into the halls, you spotted Heeseung leaning casually against his locker, laughing at something one of his friends said, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.

And of course, he acted like last night didn’t happen. Not a glance in your direction, not a nod of acknowledgment—nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist, as if you hadn’t shared anything at all.

You bit down the frustration bubbling in your chest, refusing to let it show. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let him get to you, that you’d play it cool, but damn, it was harder than you thought. Watching him joke around, watching him flirt effortlessly with anyone but you—it stung more than you wanted to admit.

You sighed, gripping the straps of your bag a little tighter as you walked past him, pretending you didn’t notice him either.

It got to the point where your friends couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“What’s going on with you and Heeseung?” one of them asked, their tone laced with curiosity and concern. “He was all over you, and now he’s... not. Did something happen?”

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything, but their expectant gazes made it clear they weren’t letting it go. So, with a deep breath, you told them everything.

Their reactions were immediate.

“He did what?” one of your friends exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Are you serious? He was with you and then went back to ignoring you? Twice?!” another chimed in, her voice rising in anger.

They were shocked at first, then angry—angrier than you were, which was both comforting and a little overwhelming.

“You need to stop answering his calls,” one of them said firmly, leaning closer. “He’s just using you as a backup plan when he’s drunk and lonely.”

Another nodded, her expression equally resolute. “Don’t let him in, no matter how much he begs. If you let him in, you’re just setting yourself up to kick him out later. And trust me, that’s worse.”

“Exactly,” a third added, crossing her arms. “And don’t even think about being his friend. Friends don’t wake up in each other’s beds after nights like that.”

The last comment stung more than you cared to admit, but they weren’t done.

“If you’re under him, you’re never getting over him,” another said bluntly, her words hitting harder than you’d expected. “And you deserve better than this game he’s playing with you.”

You sat there, their words circling in your head like a storm. Deep down, you knew they were right. You knew you couldn’t keep letting Heeseung in only to get hurt every time he left. But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.

One of your friends sighed, shaking her head. “You know what this sounds like, right? A situationship. That’s what this is turning into.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“That’s exactly what it is,” another chimed in, crossing her arms. “He keeps you close enough to make you think you matter, but far enough to avoid any real accountability. Classic situationship behavior.”

You groaned, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t even know if it’s that deep. He probably doesn’t think about me at all.”

“Well…” one of them started, glancing over your shoulder, her expression shifting into amusement and curiosity.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

She hesitated for a moment before blurting it out. “Heeseung’s staring.”

Your head snapped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. And sure enough, there he was, standing at the edge of the basketball court, holding a ball loosely in one hand. He wasn’t laughing with his teammates or focused on the game. No, his eyes were locked directly on your group—or more specifically, on you.

Your friends followed your gaze, and a chorus of whispers erupted.

“Oh my god, he really is.”

“What is he doing just standing there?”

“Is it just me, or does he look like he’s debating something?”

One of them nudged you. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in his head? Did you say something to him recently? Text him?”

You shook your head quickly, still staring at Heeseung. “No, I haven’t even looked at him, let alone talked to him.”

“Then why is he staring like that?”

“I don’t know!” you said, your voice low but frantic.

Another friend tilted her head, watching him closely. “It’s not just a glance, either. He’s full-on staring. Like he’s trying to figure out if he should come over here or something.”

The thought made your stomach flip, cause there was something more intense in the way he looked at you—like he was fighting some internal battle.

“Well, whatever’s going on,” one of your friends whispered, “he’s definitely not over you.”

You turned back to your friends, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “You guys are making this into something it’s not.”

One of them snorted. “Honey, he’s the one making it into something. Look at him.”

Against your better judgment, you glanced back at Heeseung, and your breath hitched when your eyes met his again. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze only grew more focused, like he wanted to make sure you knew he was looking.

You quickly turned back to your friends, forcing a tight smile. “Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t argue. One of them muttered, “Good idea,” as the group began gathering their things.

As you walked away from the bench, you resisted the urge to glance back at Heeseung. Your friends stayed close, their chatter filling the air as they tried to distract you, but it was hard to shake the feeling of his eyes still on you.

When you reached the school gates, one of them broke the silence. “So… are we just going to ignore the fact that he was practically burning a hole in your back with that stare?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice sharper than you intended. “We’re ignoring it.”

Another friend chuckled softly. “Okay, okay. But just so you know, he’s not ignoring you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “Well, he’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise most of the time.”

“That’s the thing,” someone said thoughtfully. “Guys like him—they act like they don’t care, but the moment they think they’re losing you? They start doing stuff like this.”

You didn’t reply, tightening your grip on your bag as the group walked down the street. You didn’t want to talk about Heeseung anymore, didn’t want to think about the way he looked at you.

✰ ✰ ✰

It was a vicious cycle, one you hated but couldn’t seem to break. Each time you told yourself it would be the last, that you’d stop answering the door, that you wouldn’t let him in again. And yet, every time the night fell and he showed up—messy hair, glassy eyes, and a crooked smile—you found yourself giving in, letting him cross the threshold into your apartment.

Heeseung had this way of making you feel like you were the center of his world. His hands were always warm, his voice low and sweet, whispering things that made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t describe.

“Why do you do this to me?” you’d asked one night, your voice breaking as you stared up at him, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He’d only smiled, brushing his thumb against your cheek as if he didn’t have an answer, or maybe because he didn’t want to give you one. “Because I can’t stay away from you,” he’d said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

But then morning would come, and he would vanish like a dream you couldn’t quite remember, leaving behind an empty space in your bed and a heavier one in your chest. And at school, it was always the same. His eyes would find you across the cafeteria or the hallway, and for a moment, it would feel like everything stopped. But he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t talk to you. He’d just look.

Your friends noticed it, too, how he’d stare at you as if you were the only thing in the room, even when there were other girls around him, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention.

“You’re letting him ruin you,” one of them said one afternoon, her voice tinged with frustration.

“I know,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “But it’s not like I can just stop.”

You wanted to hate him, for the way he seemed to pull you in only to push you away, for the way he made you feel like you were everything one second and nothing the next.

But you couldn’t. Because even though you knew it was toxic, even though you knew it was breaking you bit by bit, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go.

Because in those nights, when he looked at you like that, when he touched you like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, you felt wanted. Needed. And no matter how much it hurt afterward, you kept holding onto it, hoping that one day, he’d stop running.

It wasn’t until his friend Jake—of all people—came to talk to you that you started piecing things together. You’d been so caught up in the back-and-forth, the way Heeseung would tease you one moment and ignore you the next, that you never truly understood why. But now, hearing it from Jake, it was like a lightbulb went off in your mind.

Heeseung, despite all the other girls he flirted with, never gave them the attention he gave you. He never kissed them, never looked at them the way he looked at you.

And Jake had confirmed it. Heeseung was in love with you. Hopelessly in love, but he didn’t even know it himself. That’s why he acted the way he did. He didn’t know how to handle it, how to deal with it.

Jake had told you Heeseung was scared. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and it terrified him. So, he’d masked it all with arrogance, with distance. But when he was drunk, then the walls came down, his real feelings would surface. That’s why he’d always show up at your door when he was intoxicated—because, in those moments, he couldn’t hide from what he truly felt for you.

You wanted to be mad at him for hiding behind that facade, for playing with your feelings. But now you understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you; it was that he was so afraid of what this all meant, of what it would do to him, to both of you, that he couldn’t face it. So, he ran, and he used everything he could to keep you at arm’s length, to protect himself from being honest with you.

But knowing the truth didn’t make it hurt less. You still found yourself torn between wanting to be there for him, to help him figure it out, and wanting to protect yourself from getting hurt even more. Because at the end of the day, you were both so damn lost in this mess.

“Look, I know you’re confused. But you need to understand, Heeseung’s been a mess about this. He’s never felt anything like it before. And trust me, he doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You shook your head, trying to process everything Jake was saying. It didn’t seem to make sense. Why hadn’t he just told you? “But why does he act like he doesn’t care? Why ignore me at school like I’m nothing, and then do… all that when he’s with me?”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, knowing the weight of your words. “It’s easier for him to push you away than admit it to himself. He’s scared. He doesn’t get why he’s so into you. So he avoids it.”

You stared at him, your heart racing as everything started to fall into place. But you still had questions, things you didn’t understand. “But why doesn’t he just… talk to me? Be honest?”

Jake shrugged, his eyes softening. “He doesn’t know how to navigate this. It’s easier for him to hide behind his stupid behavior than face the truth.”

You were silent for a long moment, processing all of the information you had gotten.

When you didn`t answer, Jake let out a resigned sigh, his shoulder slumping slightly before he gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You’ve got to make him talk," he said quietly, his voice filled with sympathy. "You’re the only one who can get him to open up. Just… don’t wait forever, okay?"

He gave you one last look before walking off, leaving you standing there with your heart racing in your chest, all of your emotions tangled up in knots.

Your footsteps were heavy as you walked away from the scene, feeling the weight of every question that lingered in your mind. Why did you have to talk to Heeseung? You weren’t his therapist, nor his emotional support. Wasn’t he man enough to talk to you? You clenched your fists, frustration building in your chest.

What if Jake was wrong? What if he was just trying to paint a picture that didn’t exist, feeding you some narrative to make you feel better about the mess you were in? What if you were making a fool of yourself? The thoughts spiraled, doubt flooding your mind. Every interaction with Heeseung now felt like a game you didn’t know how to play, where the rules were constantly changing and you were left scrambling to catch up.

What if you were just a sidepiece? The thought stung more than you wanted to admit, and the image of Heeseung laughing with other girls earlier flashed in your mind. He was always so charming, so easy with them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you were just another stop on his list, a temporary distraction, something to pass the time until someone else caught his eye.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead as you made your way to your car. You wanted to be done with this—done with the confusion, the uncertainty, the constant emotional whiplash. But part of you knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing with Heeseung ever was.

But maybe Jake was right. Maybe you could be the one to make him talk—to make him finally admit what was really going on in his head, what he was feeling. But was it worth it? Was risking your heart worth it?

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you.

✰ ✰ ✰

Okay, to be fair, Heeseung had it coming. You repeated it in your mind like a mantra as you looked down at your phone, the screen lighting up with his constant calls and texts. Each one more desperate than the last, his words slurred, the grammar all over the place—clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. The messages seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, but you refused to reply.

You stared at the phone, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something deep and heavy that you couldn’t quite place. He had done this to himself, hadn’t he? He had made his choices, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The constant buzzing of your phone finally slowed, and you thought maybe he had given up. But then, the doorbell rang.

You froze, your stomach dropping. You crept cautiously to the door, standing there for a moment as the bell rang again and again, each chime making your heart race. The knocking started soon after, loud and urgent, but you stayed still, arms crossed, refusing to move.

You weren’t going to let him back in.

The knocking stopped suddenly, and for a moment, everything was silent. And then, through the door, you heard his voice.

“Please… please open the door…” His voice was shaky, desperate, as if he was on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry. Please, I need you. I just… please don’t leave me like this.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him. It was different.

"I need to see you... I can't stop thinking about you... Please, don't... don't shut me out, not now."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously unlocked the door, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the silence. When the door creaked open, you were met with the sight of him sitting on the ground, his posture slumped, eyes staring at the bottle in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As soon as he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic, as if he couldn't wait another second. Before you could even take a step back, his arms were around you, pulling you into an embrace that was far too tight to push him off.

You gasped in surprise, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest. "Heeseung, wait—" But your protest was quickly smothered as he held you tighter, pressing his face into the side of your neck.

“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you,” he mumbled, his words slurred and uneven, the alcohol clearly taking its toll. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just…” His grip on you tightened, his hands shaking slightly. “Please, don’t hate me… I need you…” His voice faltered, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the words to say, but before you could form anything coherent, Heeseung’s lips were suddenly on yours. His kiss was urgent, a little sloppy, as though he was trying to drown out whatever feelings were swirling inside him. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and you could feel the weight of his need against you.

"Stop," you whispered weakly, your hands pushing against his chest, but it did little to stop him. If anything, he just leaned in further, his lips moving with a frantic energy as he kissed you harder.

You pulled back for a moment, gasping for air, but Heeseung wasn’t letting go. His forehead rested against your neck as he breathed heavily, his lips brushing against your skin. “I need this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice muffled but laced with desperation. “I need you.”

You tried again, more forcefully this time, pushing him back slightly, but his grip on you tightened. “We need to talk,” you managed, your voice breaking, your hands trembling as you tried to create space between you two. “You can’t just keep doing this—coming to me when you’re drunk, acting like nothing happened—”

But Heeseung didn’t seem to hear you. His eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you again, this time a little more gently, though it still held that same desperate edge.

You couldn’t help but respond, even if you didn’t want to. Heeseung was like a drug, and you were already too far gone, as his kiss deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that this wasn’t how things should be. You deserved more than this chaotic cycle, more than the confusion, the highs and lows.

But in that moment, you let him hold you, let him kiss you, because you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Not when he needed you like this, not when you still felt that pull, even though you knew it wasn’t healthy.

And when he finally pulled away, looking at you with those dark eyes full of longing, you were left breathless, conflicted, and unable to move.

✰ ✰ ✰

It was like a cruel game he played—one step forward, two steps back. After the night, when he’d clung to you, he’d returned to his old ways at school, completely shutting you out. It was as if the moment he left your apartment, the walls came back up, and he was back to pretending you didn’t exist.

You’d see him in the halls, laughing with his friends, flirting with other girls, completely ignoring you like everything that happened between you two meant nothing. It was maddening.

You tried to act like it didn’t bother you. You went through the motions, keeping your head down, focusing on your schoolwork, your friends, anything to distract yourself from the constant ache in your chest. But the more he ignored you, the more you realized just how much it hurt. And it hurt even more because you knew that he wasn’t like this because he didn’t care. He was like this because he was scared. Scared of what was between you, scared of how vulnerable it made him.

Heeseung was a complicated mess, a boy who wanted everything but feared the very thing that could make him feel whole. And you? You were stuck in this limbo, torn between wanting to confront him and just walking away before you got hurt even more.

It was exhausting.

One minute, he was the boy who couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop kissing you, the one who made you feel like the only person in the room. The next minute, he was a stranger.

You were deep in thought, trying to make sense of the mess that was Heeseung, when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Turning to your left, you saw a guy you barely knew—someone who kept to himself at school, never talking much. He was standing there, a nervous but hopeful look on his face, and before you could even react, he asked, “Hey, would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?”

You opened your mouth to decline, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t make him feel bad, but before you could say anything, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in close with surprising force.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively stiffened as you turned to see none other than Heeseung standing there. He leaned in just enough to block your view of the guy, his eyes focused on the nervous stranger.

Before you could protest or say anything, Heeseung’s voice cut through the tension, casual but firm. “She’s not interested,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The quiet guy who had been asking you out now looked taken aback, stepping back a bit, unsure how to respond.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Heeseung had just walked up and made it clear to someone else that you weren’t available. You wanted to say something, to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. It felt as if everything had suddenly flipped upside down.

“I—uh…” The guy stammered, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” He turned quickly and walked off, leaving the two of you standing there in silence.

You snapped back from the suprise and pulled away from Heeseung’s grip, your mind spinning. “What the hell, Heeseung?” you managed, your voice laced with frustration.

He didn’t say anything at first. His gaze flickered to where the guy had disappeared, and then back to you.

You stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but instead, Heeseung just stood there, his expression unreadable.

"What’s your problem, Heeseung?" you demanded, stepping back. You couldn’t contain the anger that was rising in your chest. "Why are you acting like this?"

He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes avoiding yours for a second. He let out a frustrated sigh before meeting your gaze. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, the words almost sounding like a confession. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Your heart sank a little, but it didn’t stop the fire that was still burning inside you. You’d had enough of this back-and-forth.

"Then figure it out," you snapped, pushing him off. "I’m not going to keep doing this, Heeseung. Get your shit together."

He didn’t say anything more, but the look in his eyes—so conflicted, so full of uncertainty—said everything.

You turned on your heel, walking away before he or you could say anything. You didn’t know if you were making the right decision, but you couldn’t keep letting him drag you around like this.

It was later that night, after you’d gotten a bit of distance and time to cool down, when you heard the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing again.

You froze for a second, unsure if you wanted to deal with him yet again, but the quiet, hesitant knock that followed told you it wasn’t the same as before. You found yourself standing by the door, hands gripping the doorknob, hesitant to open it.

When you finally did, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, but only.. not the usual version of him you were used to seeing. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and he looked... broken.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time in a long time, there was no bravado. He was standing there, vulnerable, as if unsure of how to approach you after everything.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He wiped his face with his sleeve, almost embarrassed. “I fucked up. I know I’ve been an asshole… but I needed to see you. I need to talk.”

You stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. It was hard—too hard. You’d spent so much time questioning his intentions, wondering if he even cared. Seeing him like this, so exposed, made you feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to push him away for all the hurt he’d caused, but another part of you wanted to reach out and hear him out.

“Why now?” you asked quietly, your voice betraying the frustration you’d been holding back. “Why come to me like this? After everything?”

He looked down at the ground, visibly struggling. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I’ve been running from this. From you. From how I feel. And now I’m just… lost.” His words were shaky, like he was trying to hold onto his composure but was failing. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead he stepped closer, and for the first time, there was no arrogance in his movements, no cocky confidence. He looked genuinely lost, as if he was desperately trying to figure himself out. “I don’t know what I’m doing… but I know I want to fix it. Fix us. If you’ll let me.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling a little with uncertainty. “You’ve been so hot and cold. One minute you’re all over me, the next you act like I’m invisible. How am I supposed to trust that this is real?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was gathering the courage to say what had been haunting him. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “I know... I’ve been a mess. I was scared,” he confessed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that… terrified me. And instead of coming to you, talking to you about it, I ran. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”

The way he was standing, so different from how he used to act, made you reconsider everything. He wasn’t hiding behind walls anymore. “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he added quietly, his voice cracking just slightly. “I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what to say next. You were so unsure now, seeing him spill his heart out for you.

“I don’t feel this with anyone else,” he said softly. “No matter how hard I tried to push it down, it’s always been you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.” He paused for a moment, before he dropped down to his knees in front of you, taking both your hands gently in his, while his eyes never left yours. “I don’t know what I was waiting for. I was stupid, I was scared. But I know now... I love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you were nothing. You’re everything to me. Please... let me prove it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a long moment, all you could do was look at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You had never imagined he’d say those words, especially after everything that had happened. But now, as he knelt before you, his hands still holding yours with such gentleness, it felt different. It felt real.

Doubts still lingered, but as you looked at him—really looked at him—kneeling before you, his hands gripping yours, something inside you began to shift.

The truth was, you loved him too. Despite everything—the hurt, the confusion—you couldn’t deny that your heart ached for him. And seeing him like this, open in a way you never thought possible for him, made you realize how much you wanted to believe in him, in this. You took a slow breath, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke. “I don’t know, Heeseung…”

He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to say anything more. He just waited, his gaze never leaving yours, hopeful but patient.

You looked down at his hands still holding yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve been hurt, and I don’t want to be hurt again,” you said, your voice wavering just a little.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry. But I promise, I’ll do anything to make it right. Just… let me try.”

Your heart ached at his words. And slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded. “Okay. We can try.”

He exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features, but you could see the uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but something inside you told you that this—he—was worth trying for.

He stood up, his hands still holding yours, and pulled you gently into his arms. You let him, your body instinctively melting into his embrace. He buried his face in your hair, his breath warm against your neck.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you see that I mean it.”

Staning there in his arms, the doubts slowly began to fade. Maybe it would take time. But you felt hope stirring within you. Maybe you could try to make this work.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to read your emotions. His hand still cupped your face gently, waiting for a sign from you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low, filled with both uncertainty and hope.

"Yes."

Without another word, his lips descended onto yours, and the kiss was everything. Deep, urgent, and filled with so much emotion that it took your breath away.

When you started to feel breathless you tried to pull away, your breath ragged, but each time you did, he followed you, his lips catching yours again, desperate, insistent. Your heart raced, and your head spun as you tried to pull back for a moment’s reprieve, but Heeseung wasn’t having it.

"Please," he groaned between kisses, his hand gripping your waist tightly. "Just—just let me…" His voice was rough, desperate, as if your lips were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I need you. You… You make my heart beat. You make everything else fade. I want to breathe you in until I can’t breathe anymore."

His words were tangled, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough, like he was trying to make you understand something, but what, exactly, you weren’t sure. His kisses grew more frantic, more needy, and despite your attempts to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but respond to him.

You finally managed to gasp out his name, your voice barely a whisper, "Heeseung... Stop, I need to breathe."

He paused for a split second, just long enough for you to catch your breath, his breathing just as erratic as yours. "I can't... can't stop," he muttered. "You're all I think about... all I want."

✰ ✰ ✰

It was funny how much things had shifted since Heeseung’s confession. You couldn’t deny the change in him. He meant every word he’d said that night, and he made sure to show you just how serious he was about being with you.

Heeseung was intense in everything he did, and his love for you was no exception. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the room, or the way he clung to your hand like letting go would mean losing you. No, it was in the small things too. The way he remembered the little details about you, how he stayed up late just to make sure you got home safe from your late-night shifts, or the way he’d pepper your face with kisses whenever he thought you looked stressed.

And then, there were the nights. Heeseung had always been passionate, but now that he wasn’t holding back, it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He left no part of you untouched, no part of your heart unloved. Your skin bore the evidence of his intensity, faint marks that lingered long after his lips had moved on, a testament to just how much he adored you.

He didn’t just say he loved you; he showed it. In every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, Heeseung made sure you knew just how much you meant to him. And while it could get a little overwhelming at times, you couldn’t deny that it felt good—so good—to be loved so completely.

Heeseung's love was all-consuming, and with it came an intensity that left you breathless. He made it his mission to show you just how deeply he cared. But he never lost the playful side that made you fall for him in the first place.

He still teased you relentlessly, knowing exactly how to make your cheeks flush. “What’s that look for, baby?” he’d smirk when he caught you staring, leaning in close to whisper, “Can’t get enough of me?” His confidence was maddening, but you’d learned to give as good as you got.

Sometimes, he’d flirt with you like you were strangers meeting for the first time. “Hey, gorgeous,” he’d say, slidling up to you with a grin. “Come here often?” It didn’t matter if you were at your desk or in the middle of a crowded hallway; Heeseung always found a way to make you laugh and roll your eyes at his antics.

But then, he’d do a 360 and leave you utterly disarmed. Like the way he’d wrap his arms around your waist out of nowhere, pressing his lips to your ear to murmur, “I love you so much.” It was whiplash, the way he could go from cocky to soft in an instant, and it kept you on your toes.

Now that you had Heeseung basically wrapped around your finger, it felt empowering. He catered to you, always quick to appease your whims, and he seemed to thrive on your happiness. Whether it was picking up your favorite snacks, carrying your bag, or pampering you after a long day, Heeseung was yours—and he made sure you knew it.

But he had his limits.

There were moments when he reminded you that, while he adored you, he wasn’t completely under your control. Like when you pushed him too far with teasing, a playful remark about him being “so soft” for you turning into a challenge in his eyes.

One such night, you’d been cheeky, testing how much you could get away with. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?” you’d teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened, the shift immediate. “Anything?” he repeated, voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could process, he had you pinned, his hand firm but careful as it held your wrists above your head.

“You like to push me, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Think I’m all soft and sweet?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he showed you just how wrong you were. Heeseung wasn’t rough in a careless way—he was calculated, controlled, and oh-so-intense. He left no room for doubt about who had the upper hand in those moments.

By the end of it, you were breathless, your legs trembling as you clung to him for support. Heeseung’s smug grin and the way he kissed your forehead tenderly afterward only made it worse.

“Still think I’m soft?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face.

You couldn’t even answer, too dazed to form words, which only seemed to please him more.

The next day, walking was a challenge, and Heeseung, ever the charmer, had the audacity to chuckle when you winced. “Told you there’s only so much I’ll let you boss me around,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

It was infuriating, but it was also Heeseung. And if you were being honest, you loved every second of it.

a/n: finished this while waiting for the train to come, in the snow storm :) reblogs and commentary are appreciated <33

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

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Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

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21280 · 1 month ago

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may I request miss🙋🏻‍♀️ some high nsfw katsuki

warnings for nsfw, p star! katsuki, no quirk college au, consumption of weed n alc, masturbation, fem! reader, it’s a cliffhanger i’m sorry i don’t have the brain rn

katsuki bakugo would become a porn star entirely on accident.

the topic would surge from time to time in his friend group, mostly as a joke. because "gosh, bakugo! you have the body of a porn star! you sure you're not on some secret account we don't know about?" and it really got to him. what does a porn star body look like, anyway? it's a mystery to him, as he pulls out his phone on incognito and...

he's in disbelief. he's actually looking up porn. never in his life would katsuki bakugo ever think of doing so. katsuki feels like he'd be less guilty if he's not sober whatsoever, so he's searching multiple accounts on his twitter throwaway with one hand as the other holds a small joint. it's not long before his eyes are completely red, pants and boxers slid down to his ankles, and videos recommended by kaminari going on auto-play.

but he's not satisfied, not one bit. he stopped caring for physique videos ago, he's now entertained by the poor technique. with blurry vision, he reads the replies and quote tweets, expressing their inconformities. comments like "god, her moans sound so fake", or "can't he stroke it slowly? i want it to last" make his mind run. katsuki bakugo was lost in the world of constructive criticism, while his ego began to chew at him.

he can do better than those stupid extras, right?

of fucking course. he's katsuki bakugo. but he's not gonna fucking do it. nope. never.

katsuki bakugo is a lightweight. he feels like he's sitting on the moon instead of his couch as he's gulping down some cheap rum his friends bought the week prior. and soon enough, his camera app is open, cock fully on display, and he's stroking it for a few good minutes. and the camera catches everything—how his cock twitches every time his strokes get slower, how the tip was reddish and filled with precum from the very beginning, his heavenly moans, his white-knuckled grip, and how his knees shake as he comes undone and stains his red, velvet couch.

and he has the video on twitter as a draft, half written caption and all. katsuki needs to visualize how it would look like if he posted. until he does. his finger slips, and the video and half caption are posted. at first, katsuki is mortified and doesn’t know what to do, until he sees a person liking and commenting. he decides to leave it up until he sobers up.

twelve hours and a huge hangover later, user 00179359027728kb is a twitter porn sensation.

thousands of users express their love for him, asking and demanding for more videos, as well as wishing to be his partner in crime. when katsuki realizes he can monetize this, he suddenly has dollar signs for eyes. a few videos later and katsuki bakugo is famous.

so famous, in fact, that one of your friends is in love with him, despite only seeing the lower half of his face. she raves about him to you on the daily, and as a result you find yourself creating a throwaway to watch his videos, and damn—katsuki is fucking sensational. he’s an icon, and you wish he were in your bed right then and there.

but he’s quickly discarded by your own brain as you get ready for an outing. it’s a nice, weekend night, and your friends are ready to go clubbing. once you get there it’s… okay, you suppose. dim lighting, people stuffed like sardines in a can, and the occasional couple eating their faces in the corner. you know the many cocktails you had are catching up to you once you accidentally bump into a person, and as you turn to apologize, you’re stunned.

“y’should watch where you’re going.”

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t see y—wait—are you that kb guy from twitter?”

he’s like a deer in headlights. “…that depends. who’s askin’”

“name’s y/n” you giggle, “i know you cause i have a friend who’s nuts for you.”

you officially pique katsuki‘s interest. his eyebrow rises as he smirks, “oh, is she?” he tilts his head to the side, “what about you, sweets? you watch me too?”

shyly, you nod. his smirk gets bigger as he steps closer, “she here? i don’t really do pictures, though.”

“do you do videos?”

liquid courage. it would cost you a lot to even say that sober, and you blame your drunken state for your boldness. katsuki bakugo has that fiery look in his eye as he laughs. “sure i do, sweets. you wanna be the first model for my page or is it just to spite yer friend?”

first?

only model is your goal. you’re determined to make that happen.

“bathroom? in 5?”

“ya got it, captain.”

#stealth ops.#bnha x reader #katsuki smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #my hero academia x reader #mha x you #boku no hero academia x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months ago

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What can indicate intense eye contact with some one? Is that something astrology can tell? 🤔

Intense Eye Contact

—Sag sun are masters of strong eye contact. They have that wise beyond their years look. Like they’ve been alive for centuries and this is another re-run of their last shitty trial.

—Scorpio degrees/big 6 placements have strong eye contact. And some may avoid it actually because it feels too intimate. Everytime they look at someone its as if they’re skinning them to see their soul.

—Virgo 8h is another one. Always staring at you to figure out who you are behind what you say. Studies your body language to a T. They don’t take anything at face value. Bonus points if mercury sits in the 8h.

—Aquarius placements/stellium their stares penetrate through flesh and bone. They have this manic pixie look at first and it drives you in real deep, you have no idea what you’re signing up for.

—Mars 1h undressing you with their eyes, both in the spiritual sense and physical :) id say this is more so spiritual if they have strong neptune asp to personal planets, neptune conj mars, pisces/cancer placements. They just want to read your soul, but often comes across like they’re trying to figure out what color your underwear is. (Love ya mars 1h)

—Taurus placements have so much soul and rhythm behind their eyes. Serenade me. Hold me. Beautiful gazes, like gazelle. Reminds me of 90s rhythm and blues.

—Cap Venus has that look, similar to a thousand mile yard stare but more solemn. Tranquil. Somber. Always aching for more and wishing for what could’ve been. It moves you.

—Saturn dom has a resting bitch face, it’s iconic. Always looks annoyed or slightly disgusted at something they saw. Rarely stays for long so you can really see the depth in their eyes. Quick glances, or long drawn out eye contact so you know your place, especially if you messed with them.

—Gemini moon can also have intense eye contact. They’re always analyzing the moment and studying in their head, so it looks as if they’re focused innately on you. Paired with Leo gives them a languid, sultry stare. Feline like and does not approach first, no, they invite you with their eyes.

—Pluto-venus asp is another one entirely. Crash and burn with me gaze. Catch me if you can. Play games with me and chase after me. Never gives away their real intentions, always hidden with that same smirk and their flaunting eyes.

—Cancer moon looks absolutely whimsical, embodying the stars. Droopy, bedroom eyes. Can have a delicate tilt to their head when they listen to you. God, it really draws you in. Like two pools of honey, warming you.

—Neptune asp personal planets. A stare you can’t explain. Dreamy, hazy, personal yet you’re placed on the outside. Feels like a sacred reunion when they look at you, adorning you. Strange familiarity like they’ve always known you.

#asks #astrology community #devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card romance #pick a picture #astro posts #astrology notes #astro notes #astro #astro observations #esoteric astrology

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theetherealbloom · 3 months ago

Text

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You

Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.

Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.

“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

gif by @andrew-garfielld

| Main Masterlist |

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.

“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”

Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”

“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”

You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.

“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING

Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.

You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.

“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.

You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.

“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”

Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”

You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”

You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”

“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”

Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”

You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”

They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.

“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”

“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.

For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.

“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.

Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.

Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.

You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.

The reply came faster than you expected.

Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning.

You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.

Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.

The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.

Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.

You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.

“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.

“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.

As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.

Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON

Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.

He missed you.

It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.

He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.

“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.

If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.

But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.

He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.

If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.

He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.

“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”

The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.

“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.

As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.

But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.

But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.

You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”

“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”

Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”

You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.

As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.

“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”

“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”

“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”

“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”

Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”

The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”

The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.

AFTER THE PREMIERE

As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.

“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.

Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”

You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.

“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”

You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”

Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”

“What?”

“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”

You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”

“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”

“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”

Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”

Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.

“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.

“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”

Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”

AT THE AIRPORT

The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.

You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.

The response was almost immediate:

Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.

As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.

You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.

Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.

The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.

“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”

Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”

The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”

Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”

The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”

The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”

Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”

The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”

Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”

LATER, BACKSTAGE

Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.

“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.

“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.

Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”

Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.

“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”

“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.

Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.

“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.

Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”

Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.

There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.

He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.

“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”

But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.

When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”

Before you could finish, Pedro moved.

He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.

“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”

You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”

Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.

Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”

You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”

Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.

From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”

Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”

Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”

And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

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