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#He doesn’t appear to be cold at all

manyblinkinglights · 3 months

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okay, one of those gain-levels isekai where the protag finds out they were summoned along with the rest of the world-threatening dungeon monsters expressly as a nation-wrecking calamity. And they don’t figure it out until they’ve long since screwed everything up by putting themselves in charge. then they retire into hermitage with all the ppl who willingly accept being glamoured to look like elven hoes. No wait… this would in fact be a great background character.

#All the trans people go live in the village of soy sauce #hot and cold running water #and choosing your appearance from a ‘menu’#the weird dude is also there but he doesn’t bother anybody #whoever’s summoned as a curse on nations next must reckon with this fellow.#Or at least the glittering legion of his townspeople

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deathsmallcaps · 1 year

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Mirror Snow White for the WIP game, please!!

I’ve bolded the part you encouraged me to add onto! Thanks! :)

I met my true love while I was limping along an empty road cutting through the grey wintry plains of Sasriu. I had heard of a king with a mystery: the hand of one of his daughters and a title if solved, and three nights of hot meals, a warm bed and a quick death if not. Having no skills beyond war - for I had been sold quite young to become a soldier - and now possessing a pair of boots but only one leg, I despaired at the life I saw ahead of myself.

‘Retired’ soldiers rarely live long. It was the start of winter and already the nights dipped well below freezing. No forests stood for me to take shelter, and the little villages around I wouldn’t dare approach - this kingdom had been staunchly neutral in the nearby wars and many small towns chased out soldiers, for fear of involvement. There was no denying my past; I had been captured specifically because it would be difficult to confuse and lose me in the ranks of the local peoples, and the war raged still.

One kind, lonely farmhouse had offered me warm soup and a haystack to sleep in, but I saw the thin faces of each child and knew I couldn’t stay long. Thus, I headed for the city - I would hopefully find shelter and stability, and perhaps even an ambassador with knowledge of my homeland. And if my plans didn’t pan out, at least it would be a swift death - not ending up as a frozen stranger on the side of the muddy road or a penniless veteran on the cobbles of some dank alley.

So I hobbled toward the city. Being a plains kingdom, they didn’t build especially high buildings for fear of windstorms, but it stood out all the same against the flat earth surrounding it. Still, despite having such a clear goal, it seemingly didn’t get much closer, with night and what I hoped was merely a big cloud fast outrunning me. Knowing from my luck and the change in humidity, I knew it was rain. I tried moving faster, but the wraps around my crutch pads had worn away so it was even more painful than usual, so I soon had to return to my usual pace.

A small bump interrupted the tedium, coming from a side road I hadn’t noticed before. It moved slowly, but it was clear it was also heading towards the city, so with a slightly lighter heart I continued forward. A talking companion for the road would likely make the trip easier, and may even offer information on the king’s mystery. All I really knew at the time was that his daughters apparently had a problem with sneaking out at night.

Once I got close enough, it took me a moment to recall the local greeting, but then “All things must end!”

The shuffling figure, adorned in many ragged scarves, quickly flashed a look to me, too fast to make out any features. “But some begin now.” She replied in a raspy voice.

“What brings you to Wocosm this fine evening?” I inquired politely. I was desperate for conversation, but would drop it if she showed disinterest.

She laughed, a disused rattle that seemed to surprise her. She flashed her eyes at me once again. “You must be very hopeful indeed if you believe we will reach the gates before sundown. Still, it is no matter. I am looking for shards.”

“A shard? My good woman, I believe you are headed the wrong way! While I would not recommend any to enter a battlefield, there are broken bits abound back the way I came. I know my leader even pays people to go over the fields for arrows and other reusable things. As long as you do not have an apparatus that would impede your travel through the churned, bloody earth,” I gestured to my crutches for emphasis, “you could make a decent living doing as such.”

She shook her head. “I have seen that terrible place, and while it contains an evil most profound, it is human and mundane. The shard I seek is magical in origin, and to put it plainly, induces heinous thoughts and situations among even the most peaceable peoples.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but before a true response could form I saw a terrible sight. “Holy waters, you do not have shoes!”

“Hm? Oh, that.” She seemed unbothered, but I knew the importance of proper footwear.

Unable to think of a particularly witty rebuttal, I merely said, “But it’s cold!”

She stared at me blankly. Finally, I could see her eyes - black like mine, but shaped in an uncommonly beautiful fashion and ringed with near translucent blond lashes. Her face seemed much more youthful than her posture and manner seemed to suggest, yet her eyes held an age unknowable. The woman quickly hid her eyes again once she noticed my returned gaze.

Unable to do nothing, I carefully stopped and leaned one crutch against my body while I pulled my pack around. “Here. I have no use for it.” I handed her my extra boot, my other sock, and then the same crutch. “If we both are to make it to our destination, we need to avoid frostbite.” I had practiced walking with one crutch, and showed her how. “Pull your naked foot into your wraps, and use the crutch to move forward. It’s better than wearing off your soles before you find those wicked shards!”

Her mouth twisted, but she took my offerings all the same, and we walked on as the darkness overtook us both. I told her my name was Walt, short for Walter Johnschild, and she did not proffer hers, but instead told me things about the castle.

“Do you know much about the king’s mystery?” she asked. When I told her no, aside from the reward, she continued, “No matter. It is thus: The king of Susriu has twelve daughters, and every winter’s night for the last decade, their dancing shoes are dashed to pieces, despite never leaving their rooms and the guards stationed outside reportedly merely hearing the occasional snore. The princesses tell their father nothing, and he apparently needs to start marrying them off soon. However, if they are sneaking out, he cannot guarantee their virtue,” we both scoffed, “and has become desperate. So, he will reward any man who can solve this matter within the three nights he is allowed to stay in their rooms.”

“How can h-” I broke off when the city walls’ bells started tolling, signifying that the gates were about to close. Coincidentally, the sky broke open a quarter mile behind us.

The woman turned to me and placed the coldest kiss I’d ever felt aware upon my forehead. “Now go!” And she puffed up her cheeks, blew out, and a great wind, cold and sharp, carried me to the gates, billowing a cloak that had not been on my shoulders a moment before. The guards did not seem startled by my sudden arrival, and I swung quickly past the gates and into town.

The castle was on the other end of the city, which was unfortunate. I did my best to make my way over, but the cobblestones were not kind to me or my crutches. The rain caught up to me before I was even approved to go through the castle portcullis, and I nearly slipped. A young guard sniggered, but an older fellow smacked his helmet in irritation, causing it to spin and cover his face somewhat.

We nodded at each other. The elder seemed hale, but not all marks of war are visible to the naked eye. The youth, grumbling as he set his helmet right, was ordered to escort me to the dinner hall. He slouched and side-eyed the entire walk, and when he opened the door and announced me, he tapped the crutch closer to him with his foot. I stumbled into the surprised feasting hall.

#mirror Snow White #I named this such because *well*#I’ve been drawing fairy tales the last couple years and the one I started out with was Snow White #and I’ve been redrawing the magic mirror into other stories #which I like to think is partly made of a large shard from the mirror #that first appeared in The snow queen #which shattered into a million pieces across the world #the snow queen/north wind and her hubby (Walter)#who meet in this scene #go around the world collecting the shards #she is a half demon granted some power and absolution by God #for forswearing her father (the mirror maker) and vowing to collect the shards until all are found as penance (for being born)#Walter helps her and convinces her that she is not worthless and terrible without her tasks #and she grants him immortality (contingent on her life - she can be killed but not die a natural death and is eternally youthful) and #performs gender affirming transformations upon him #(he’s a trans guy)#they’re very cute together but without Walter she’s still pretty cold and unyielding and doesn’t know how to talk to people

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screampied · 4 months

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❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care.

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji.

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact.

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm.

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes.

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan.

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

25K notes · View notes

theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. ��Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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augustinewrites · 7 months

Text

“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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pprodsuga · 2 months

Text

tides of regret | heeseung

summary: in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.

notes: aaand she's here! this is 24.4K words worth of my heart and soul. consider this a token of my appreciation for welcoming me on enhablr. i sincerely hope you enjoy it. <3

deep cuts: #1

warnings: angst/internal self doubt, playful banter, dirty talking, praise, slight degradation, oral (m and f receiving), dry humping, fingering, mentions of exhibitionism and face sitting, nipple sucking, spit, brief moment of anal (tongue only), condom removal, unprotected sex, creampie.

For @enha-stars – may this story rip you apart and stitch you back together.

masterlist

Incheon feels lonely at three in the morning.

The overhead lights being turned off because of the lack of travelers at this hour makes the airport feel bigger than it actually is. It’s too quiet without the familiar sounds of luggage wheels on the linoleum or overhead speakers announcing flight changes every ten minutes. You don’t think you’ve ever been to an airport so early in your life.

It’s quiet enough to leave you alone with your bothersome thoughts. In the years you’ve been away from home as you studied abroad, you can’t help but feel a gravitational pull towards life in Seoul and the people in it. The familiarity of your home outweighs the adventure you once yearned for in your youth, and now you’re left with the exciting notion that, this time, you’ll know when you’ll be coming back.

The terminal has an abundance of seating. Your backpack rests on the seat beside you as Jay double checks the gate number while the rest of your friends find a spot on the seats next to you, attempting to find an ounce of comfort in the dimly lit area.

“I know leaving early saved us hundreds of dollars, but I need sleep,” Sunghoon says from beside you. His usually well kept hair falls in all sorts of places like he woke up without a second thought and hailed a taxi the minute he opened his eyes.

“You’ll thank me later,” Jay says. “We can sleep on the plane.”

“Our flight doesn’t leave for another two hours,” Jake whines from beside him as he yawns. “How am I supposed to sleep on these god forsakes chairs?”

“Quit whining and try,” Jay retorts. He looks behind him to see the rest of your friend group approach before glancing over to you. “Doing okay?”

“How come Y/N gets preferential treatment?” Jake beckons.

“Because she isn’t a nuisance like you,” Jay immediately fires back before diverting his attention towards you again.

“I’m alright,” you say, stifling a yawn behind your hand. “Just cold and sleepy.”

“Hopefully they turn off the damn AC,” Sunghoon says as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. “I feel like my veins are being injected with ice.”

“It’ll warm up when more people come,” Jay reasons. “I wish there was a coffee stand that was open. I need a cup.”

“I could go for one,” you agree. “I’m trying to stay awake for the next couple of hours so I can sleep on the plane.”

The rest of your friend group appear behind Jay and you look down to check your phone for any notifications when Heeseung catches your eye. It takes you by surprise and you abruptly look back at your screen and busy yourself by aimlessly scrolling through social media as he attempts to occupy the empty seat beside you, but Jake beats him to it.

“I’m gonna freeze to death and then all of you are gonna have to deal with my frozen body.” Jake dramatically slouches down onto the seat until his head finds your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek as if trying to find comfort in you. “Jesus, Y/N, you’re so warm.”

You laugh. “I wore layers.”

“You’re gonna regret that when we get on the plane,” Jake mumbles.

Heeseung, from the corner of your eyes, opts to move to the seats in front of you. You try not to pay him any mind.

You snort. “Yeah, well I can take these layers off while you freeze until you become an icicle.” Jake hums when you let your head fall onto his.

“You know I’m not built for the cold. Australia’s my home.”

“And yet you moved to Korea,” Sunghoon provokes.

Jungwon and Riki are rummaging through the bag of snacks you’d brought for an early breakfast until the restaurants and coffee stands around you open up. Jake’s right, it’s far too cold to stop shivering, but you suppose you’re grateful that the discomfort distracts you from sleeping too early.

“I can’t believe we’re finally going on this trip,” Sunoo says from above you. With your head still on Jake’s, you turn to look at the boy speaking. “I’m really excited for you to show us where you’ve been for the past four years.”

A tiny smile graces your lips. “I’m excited to show you around London and Paris. The latter is a two hour train ride. My friends and I would go every few weekends or so to explore the city. Pictures and videos don’t do them justice.” You sigh as you reminisce. “I really did think that I’d end up living there when I graduated.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Missed home too much, I guess.” You shrug. “Though, I can’t believe Riki went through a growth spurt in the last two years that I was gone.”

“You went back to Okayama before Y/N came back for holiday break, right?” Jungwon asks, looking between the both of you.

“That’s right,” Riki says. “I was sad that I couldn’t see you before you went back to school.”

“Now he’s twice my height.” You gesture at the younger boy. He’s too shy with the sudden affection and chooses to bury his head in Jungwon’s shoulder. “You were so little.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“I can’t believe you’re fluent in English now.” Jungwon pushes Riki off of his arm. “You, Jake, and Jay are kind of scary when you speak English.”

“It was a little hard at first. I used to watch a lot of American cinema so I could understand it better than I could speak it. But I can’t lie, it’s fun being able to talk to them in English.”

“You were so cute trying to string phrases together during your first summer back,” Jay coos. “Texting her in English was funny because she couldn’t understand the difference between spelling.”

“Poor Jake.” You pull your head from his and look down at him. “You probably had aneurysms looking at my grammar.”

You lift your head to see that the aforementioned has fallen asleep amongst the conversation with his mouth slightly ajar and soft snores echoing past your ear. You don’t move when Jay asks if you want Jake off of your shoulder, but you shake your head.

Conversation falls flat when the group unanimously decides that sleepiness is overtaking the need to socialize. Jay keeps checking his watch to look out for the time while your eyes try to look anywhere but at Heeseung.

It’s odd, the way two people can lose a friendship overnight. The heartbreak that came with romantic rejection wasn’t nearly as bad as realizing texts and phone calls were far fewer in between the moment you had arrived back in Europe to finish your studies. It hurt to know that neither one of you felt comfortable enough to see each other when you were back in your hometown unless the two of you were invited to hang out with mutual friends.

Still, seeing Heeseung after he had rejected your confession felt like a punch to the gut.

Long gone were the days of being able to send him unimportant updates about your life abroad or what you were doing at any given summer day back home. You couldn’t ask him to go to the restaurants you used to frequent near his house or yours. You certainly couldn’t call him at random hours because you were bored and missed his voice.

It wasn’t for the lack of trying. It felt like things might've gone back to normal after a short period of not talking, but your texts going unanswered and your calls going to voicemail was all you needed to know.

Perhaps it’s why you’re comfortable spearheading this vacation with Jay, who had made it a point to visit you in London when you’d chosen to stay behind instead of going home for the holiday break. The two of you had never spent time alone prior to then, but it touched you that he’d go out of his way to dedicate an entire day to visit you when he was there for a family vacation.

Coming back to Korea the summer after graduating felt like you were making the right choice, even if your head was telling you to find a home in Europe. Still fresh from your unresolved rejection, stepping off of the plane and knowing you wouldn’t be returning back to your university’s town made the uncomfortable reality of coming face-to-face with Heeseung sink in. You’d have to live with the consequences.

But it’s been eight months since you returned, six months since Jay’s dad was gracious enough to offer you a position on his marketing team, and five months since he encouraged your entire friend group to take a trip to your old stomping grounds.

The proposition felt too sudden, especially with how little experience you had working with his team, but you’d spend an evening with the Park family for him to consider you an honorary member. Though, you’re sure Jay might’ve told him something happened between you and Heeseung, especially after telling everyone you wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays.

To this day, you haven’t uttered a single word to your friends about what happened the night Heeseung rejected your love confession. If you know him as well as you think you do, you don’t think he's told anyone either.

“Cafes are opening up,” Jay notes. Sunghoon’s ears perk up. “Three of us should go get food and drinks while the rest save our seats.”

The airport overhead lights must’ve turned on while you were deep in thought. Jay’s right, the coffee stands have opened and it’s likely due to the new influx of travelers who’ve arrived at the airport. Foot traffic is still light and you know Jay wants to get ahead of the crowd.

Jake has woken up because of the growing murmur around him and lifts himself off of your head to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He yawns once more but tries his best not to fall asleep again.

“How long was I out?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take,” Sunghoon answers.

“Sorry for sleeping on you,” Jake apologizes.

“It’s okay. You needed it.” He scrunches his face, not used to the new lighting. “Jay, I’ll come with you to get coffee. I need to stretch my legs.”

“I’ll help as well.” Heeseung speaks for the first time in a while and his voice nearly catches you off guard.

“Sure.” Jay gathers everybody’s orders before the two of you follow him around the terminal.

The line isn’t unbearably long, but with Heeseung towering behind you, it feels like you’ve been standing for hours. You shift from one foot to the other in order to find a happy medium to no avail. Jay orders for the group and you pay attention to him more than you care to when you realize Heeseung is now standing beside you to make room for more people to wait in line. He’s considerate like that and you hate it.

When the baristas are finished with your order, you reach for the bag of sandwiches in your haste to escape Heeseung. But your fingers touch the steam and you drop the bag into the counter with a hiss.

“Careful,” Heeseung says. “Don’t get hurt, please.”

Your clumsy nature was always something he teased you for. Heeseung sounds so sincere about his worry that you think you’d rather him pour all of the hot coffee on you instead.

“Thanks.” You grab the bag with so much as a single moment of eye contact before realizing Jay has started walking back.

Breakfast is eaten in silence. Everyone is too tired to speak, save for Jake whose twenty minute nap has rendered him a little more awake than the rest of you. You and Sunghoon share your egg sandwich and chocolate croissant respectively without a word spoken between the two of you.

Meanwhile, Heeseung is staring at the way your thighs are close to Sunghoon’s. He had shifted his body closer to yours in order to form a makeshift table so that sharing pastries wouldn’t result in crumbs on the floor. You can feel Heeseung's gaze on your kneecap and it makes your face flush.

Sunoo and Jake offer to throw everybody’s trash away when you’re all done eating. The airport is in full swing by now and everyone has said their graces and apologized to Jay for giving him a hard time with how early they arrived.

It seems that sleep has threatened to overtake you. You’re waiting in line to scan your plane ticket and board the aircraft, but the sudden warmth of the airport has caused you to yawn a few too many times. Riki’s standing in front of you and his height makes for a perfect makeshift wall to lean on. Or, that’s what your tired brain is telling you, because you slouch forward and let your cheek rest against his back as you close your eyes.

“Sleepy girl,” you hear him chuckle. You merely nod in acknowledgement.

Your comfort is short lived when he softly nudges you because the line has moved. Soon, you scan your ticket and give the airline agent a smile as thanks before waiting to set foot on the aircraft.

Sunghoon notices your dropped shoulders and wordlessly takes your backpack off of you.

“You don’t need to do that,” you say with a frown when you see Sunghoon carrying your belongings with him.

“Let me hold it,” says Sunghoon. “You look like you’re about to fall over with the extra weight.”

“If you insist.”

“Let us take care of you, yeah?” Jay interrupts, bumps his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been running all over Europe these past four years and we’ve only seen you a handful of times. You deserve to relax on this trip.”

“I can’t believe you guys are being so sweet on me. I know that’s ending the second we get back to Korea.”

The two boys laugh. “Well, it’s only fair, I guess. You’re like, the mom friend.”

“Jay is the mom friend.” The aforementioned doesn’t argue.

The squeeze of the aircraft is tight and you’re desperately trying to look for your seat. It seems that Sunghoon is sitting in your row, which excites you, but you’ve come to realize that you’ve obtained the ungodly middle seat. You make peace with it for a brief moment before Heeseung clears his throat awkwardly.

“Let’s switch seats,” he says from behind you. His ticket shows the window seat right next to yours. “I know you hate middle seats.”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking.” He says it with a smile and it makes you cower into yourself. “You should move to your new seat so we don’t hold up the line.”

Heeseung suggests it in a way that is reminiscent of the days where he’d give up his sweet treats because you wanted a taste. It tugs at your heartstrings but you don’t have time to think about that when you notice how the plane is starting to fill up.

Reluctantly, you slide into the window seat while Heeseung and Sunghoon follow suit. Your seat belts are buckled and in no time, the aircraft takes flight.

For the next hour, Heeseung looks like he wants to say something to you. The headphones you've brought do well to cancel out the noise, for the most part. You can see from the corner of your eye that he glances at you from time to time, but you ignore it and choose to get comfortable for the long haul.

When you notice the flight attendants come with the beverage cart, you take it as a cue to get comfortable and try to get some sleep for the next few hours. Likely due to the lack of sleep from the night prior, you fall asleep as soon as your head rests against the plane.

You don’t hear Heeseung requesting an extra bottle of water for you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

When you come to, you’re barely able to register that it’s time to eat the first meal on the flight. You take your headphones off and put it in your backpack as you blink the sleep out of your eyes.

“Chicken or beef?”

Heeseung looks at you, expecting an answer.

“Hm?”

He laughs softly. “Chicken or beef?”

Your eyes dart between him and the flight attendants when you realize they’re about to approach.

“I heard them asking people which meal they want,” Heeseung explains. “So, chicken or beef?”

“Beef.” You clear your throat.

“Beef it is.”

Sunghoon requests chicken when the flight attendant arrives. Heeseung orders beef for the both of you before you get the chance. If he notices you looking at him strangely, he doesn’t comment on it.

The food comes quicker than expected and the meal tastes decent, though you’re trying your best not to elbow Heeseung as you cut away at your portion. He seems engrossed in the movie in front of him while you peek at what he’s watching—Iron Man, to no one’s shock.

You soften a bit at the nostalgia that comes with Heeseung and Marvel, namely the rainy days in your youth spent marathoning the superhero movies. There had been one year in high school when he’d dressed up as Tony Stark and you as Pepper Potts despite a few girls your age whispering behind your back at the matching costumes out of jealousy. You don’t think you can think of the franchise without thinking of Heeseung.

The memories almost bring a smile to your face. Heeseung seems to notice you glancing at his screen in between bites. You avoid eye contact when you realize he caught you staring and focus on cutting your meal, praying that Heeseung will stop looking at you and watch the movie instead.

But he takes one earbud out and holds it to you.

“Do you want to watch it with me?” He’s halfway through. You tell him such but he doesn’t care.

“I don’t want to jump in halfway through.”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t done that before.”

Heeseung says it with such nonchalance that it makes your stomach drop. He sees the way your eyes falter for a moment and the way you glance between his hand and the screen. You try to come up with excuses to refuse his offer, but you’ve got eight more hours until you land.

“Sure,” you settle. Heeseung gives you one headphone and resumes watching.

Between the meals being picked up and tray tables being put away, you manage to fall asleep in your seat. Sunoo sits in front of you and upon coming back from a quick bathroom trip, sees your head resting on Heeseung’s shoulder with his cheek propped on your head. The two of you are fast asleep despite the credits rolling and he can’t help but snap a quick photo.

You wake up some hours later when Sunghoon says your name. The cabin lights turning on temporarily blinds your vision as you wake up when you realize you’d managed to push yourself back enough to rest yourself against Heeseung’s arm.

“Oh God,” you say in shock, pulling yourself and the seat upright. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” he replies, like he means it. “Sleeping on planes is uncomfortable. But I know you know that.”

You nod. “Yeah. It's too hard to get comfortable.”

“I can’t believe we’re spending two weeks in Europe. I’ve never been outside of Korea and Japan before. You’ll have to help me with my English.”

“Jay or Jake can also help with that.” You say it with a yawn and Heeseung’s eyes cast to the floor for a brief moment. You barely notice, gathering your own belongings as the flight descends.

“Yeah, I guess they can.”

When you land, the familiar disorientation of the time difference truly wakes you up. It’s eleven in the morning when the plane door finally opens and Jay’s moving a step ahead of you as he occupies space in the aisle way to grab his belongings. You follow suit and wait for your turn to exit amongst your friends and other travel goers.

Stepping out of the plane and into the familiar terrain of the Heathrow Airport reignites your attentiveness and you smile at the fond memories of being greeted by your university friends upon arriving. The familiar atmosphere of English travelers milling around the gate warms your chest with nostalgia.

You wait for the boys to emerge before signaling Jay, who follows beside you as you walk towards the baggage claim area. You lead him with little trouble down the escalator as the rest of your friends follow suit, yawning in an attempt to wake themselves up.

“It’s weird seeing you in your element,” Jay comments as he stands beside you, periodically checking the turnstile for his luggage. “A good kind of weird.”

“This airport might as well be my second home,” you tell him. “It feels routine to wait for my luggage at this point.”

“I’m tempted to sleep when we get to the hotel but I don’t want to mess up my sleep schedule more than it already is.” Jay pulls his luggage.

“Yeah, that’s smart. I think we should take an hour to freshen up and find a place to eat before we go exploring.”

“I can already hear Jake whining about it.”

The two of you share a laugh. “He’ll just have to get used to it. We can have an early night and rest up before we explore tomorrow.”

“He slept on the plane, for the most part,” Jay informs. “Surprisingly, he didn’t snore as loudly as he usually does.” He spots your luggage and takes it off of the belt for you.

On the other side of the carousel, Heeseung and Sunoo are standing together to find their own luggages.

“You guys looked pretty cozy,” Sunoo comments. “It was nice seeing you two like that again.”

“It felt nice,” he mutters. “I really missed her.”

Heeseung doesn’t have to tell Sunoo what happened between the two of you for him to know that you two aren’t as close as you used to be. The older boy feels nearly ashamed that his own friends have caught up on his awkward demeanor.

“Well, she’s back for good and we’re here on vacation. Try not to dwell on whatever it is that’s making you think too hard.”

Heeeung laughs. “I’ll try, Sunoo. It’s just hard when we’re not as close. How can I compete when we’re in her college town and how will I talk to her in Paris?”

“Well, you never know,” Sunoo says as he picks up his luggage. “Anything can happen in the City of Love.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The hotel itself is modest in size. Quaint, old cobblestone surrounding the entryway like you remember it. The people are busy walking in and out of the meeting rooms in the lobby as you walk to the concierge to sort out the rooming situation. Jay stands beside to help distribute the keys and the employee behind the desk bids you a good stay.

The view from the fifth floor is spectacular already. You catch glimpses of the streets of London below you, street lights decorating the sidewalk and flowers surrounding the city. This feels like the London you remember and it adds a slight pep in your step.

“Alright, it’s decided that three of you are gonna share,” you say as you reach the first room. “The other four will be split into two rooms and I’ll get a room for myself.”

“That’s not fair,” Jake huffs.

“I refuse to share a room with any of you.” You pocket the key to the single bedroom. “Plus, Jay’s mom helped me make the arrangements when we planned the trip.”

“Favoritism,” Jake coughs. You nudge his side.

“To make it fair, everyone will pick up a key card without knowing the room number and flip it. That’ll determine who you room with.”

“Alright,” Jungwon says. “Fair enough.”

One by one, your friends pick their key cards and discover their roommates. Jake, Sunoo, and Riki are the unlucky three who will be rooming together for the duration of the week. Jay and Sunghoon are in the room directly across from theirs while Heeseung and Jungwon share a room.

“Let’s meet at the lobby in an hour,” Jay suggests. “We can get some lunch and do some exploring before deciding on dinner.”

“We can take it easy and sleep early tonight,” you add in. “I know that flying internationally is always a bitch and I try to time my sleep when I need to.”

The eight of you part ways. Your suite has a beautiful view of the sky and the room itself makes you feel like the main character of a romance film. The bed is just to your liking with pillows stacked to the nines. It feels nice to have a moment to yourself. With your friend Yunjin backing out of the trip at the last minute due to family conflicts, you hadn’t had time to think about anything other than arriving at the hotel safely.

You busy yourself with a shower and freshen up, pulling out options for you to wear for the rest of the night. You settle with something stylish yet comfortable and put enough makeup on your face until you’re satisfied with the person staring back at you in the bathroom mirror.

True to your word, you enter the lobby when you said you would. Jay and Sunghoon are already downstairs by the seats. Sunghoon stands to offer you the loveseat but you decline politely and sift through your phone until the rest of the guys arrive.

When they do, it’s like all eight of you collectively agree that hunger has overtaken you. You know of a nearby cafe that serves sandwiches from your days in university. You lead them to the quaint restaurant that has your friends staring at the art on the walls as you greet the cashier and order.

It’s a slow moment for the eight of you as you all eat in relative silence, the sound of quiet slurping audible from the coffees everyone has chosen to drink.

“Did you spend a lot of time here?” Jungwon asks.

“Around the area, yeah,” you say, looking around. The outdoor seating area is just towards the edge of the street with the weather being a cool, cloudy day. “I loved coming to cafe’s like these with my friends after class. We’d study until they kicked us out and then go for a drink or two.”

“We should go to a pub while we’re here,” Jake suggests. “I’ve always wanted to see an English pub. We have a few back in Australia.”

“I know just the place! My friend’s brother owns it and they know I’ll be in town for the next week. It would be nice to catch up with them.”

“Hopefully your friends here kept you out of trouble,” Sunghoon teases. You flick him with your fingers.

“I’m the most responsible one out of you seven and don’t you forget that.”

“Do you miss being here now that you’re back?” Riki asks in between sandwich bites. “God, I love London already.”

“You’re going to choke if you don’t slow down.” He apologies and takes a single bite. “Well, I think I miss my friends a lot. I don’t necessarily miss being in university, but I miss the freedoms that come with it.”

“I still can’t believe you spent four years of your life here,” Sunghoon says. “That’s insane when you think about how you cried when your aunt took you to Tokyo for a week when you were in middle school.”

The boys laugh and you frown. “I was twelve, okay? You wound me. But yeah, I think I grew out of my shell in high school and had this urge to travel but didn’t know how to do it. I was surprised when my parents encouraged me to apply to King’s College, even more so when I got accepted.”

“You’ve always been too good to stay in one place for too long,” Jake says. “We got close until halfway through our first year of high school, I think. I always got the sense that you wanted more than what our hometown could offer.”

“I always wanted to move to the heart of Seoul eventually. But I think I needed to come here in order to figure that out.”

“Would you really have stayed in London if you had the chance?”

You avoid looking at Heeseung, whose attention averted from his phone to you.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “But what I do know is that I’m happy to be back in Korea and I’m happy to be traveling to Europe.”

“You always did have that sense of adventure,” Heeseung says. “I remember you were the one who always got us in trouble when we explored a little too far.”

“Your mom was pissed that time I walked a little too far down the shoreline when we went to Jeju.” The memory feels warm despite your discomfort at having Heeseung’s eyes on you. “I didn’t know who she wanted to kill more, me or you.”

“Definitely me. You could do no wrong in her eyes.”

“What happened?” Sunoo asks.

“My family and Heeseung’s took a trip to Jeju Island when we were around seven, if I remember correctly. I’d taken swimming lessons and thought I could show off my new skills at the beach we were at, but there was a wave that was a bit too much for me to handle.”

“She was nearly swallowed by the ocean.” Heeseung hits his knee with his palm as he recalls the memory. “I mean, I was seven and it seemed like the wave was gigantic but to my mom, it must’ve been just tall enough that she could see over it.”

“She yelled at him for the rest of the night because she had to pull me out from under the water,” you add. “I was fine. My parents laughed it off but his mom was so pissed at him for not telling me to come back to the shore.”

Echoes of laughter fill the space. It feels nice to be able to laugh like this with Heeseung, temporarily forgetting why you were so awkward around him in the first place.

When the check is paid, you lead the group around the area. Sunghoon takes out his camera and captures everything that inspires him while Sunoo and Riki are off to explore the shops around. It brings warmth to your chest to see your friends enthusiastically exploring the space you once called home. It had been a dream of yours since Jay came to visit and let you drag him around town for the day. Having them with you feels like you’re healing a part of yourself.

You duck into the quiet bookstore you used to frequent while you were a student. Filled with novels and trinkets from floor to ceiling, it feels familiar to you.

You get lost in thought when you glance at the books in front of you and you don’t notice Heeseung approaching.

“Still love books?”

“Jesus,” you gasp, clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Seems like you still scare easily.” You hate that he knows you so well. Clearing your throat, you put the book back.

“Yes, to both. I used to come to this bookstore a lot when I had free time.”

He looks around. “It looks like a nice place.”

“They have a reading nook in the back. The owner is this sweet older woman who was the first person to help me with my English when I first moved. I think she let me read books for free because I used to bring her sweets.”

“That sounds like something you’d do.” You cast your eyes to the floor. “It’s crazy that there’s parts of you that I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you mumble solemnly. Heeseung’s eyes bore into the side of your face as you pretend to look at the titles of the books.

“Do you talk to your college friends often?”

“All the time. My closest friends live all over the place. Two of them are from the area, one went to live in the States, and a few live in Busan.”

“I’ll bet it was nice to have some Korean friends when you moved. I remember you used call me to tell me about your first semester here.”

You can’t help but think about the first few months after you moved when you would call Heeseung for a bit of comfort when things felt too overwhelming. With Korea being nine hours ahead, you always felt a little too bothersome phoning when it was the middle of the night for him, not used to the time difference. But he always answered you or called back when he had the chance.

You’d spend hours on the phone, talking to him about how difficult it was to learn English and how making friends was not as easy as you thought it would be. Navigating the city felt lonely and isolating because you’d barely made friends in your classes in the first few weeks. Heeseung was there through all of it, reminding you that being eighteen years old in a new country made you brave despite feeling like you were a failure for not grasping a hold on life like you thought you would.

Falling asleep on the phone with him became a routine, too. Whether it was you who fell asleep after a long day or Heeseung, who had stayed up listening to your worries, the sound of his breathing made it feel like you were back home in Korea instead of exploring a grand new world.

Soon enough, you could talk your way around and piece together conversations with your classmates until you’d found friends who shared similar interests. Heeseung was the first person you told and the first person to tell you how proud he was that you extended your roots to learn about yourself away from home. You always thrived off of his praise as if making him proud was something you never sought out to do, but appreciated when it happened.

But that was four years ago. Whatever friendship you had with him then is not the one you have with him now.

“It was nice,” you settle. “I miss my college friends. You might get to meet some later in the week.”

“Nice,” he mutters to himself when you walk past him. “That’s really nice.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The rest of the week is spent in your old stomping grounds, from touring your campus, to shopping, to sightseeing. The eight of you split up more often than not to explore different areas based on mutual interest. You find that Heeseung tends to gravitate towards you and you aren’t sure if it’s because he feels guilty for rejecting you or because he genuinely wants to explore what you want to do.

Still though, at least one other person joins you. It feels nice to have a buffer to avoid any awkward conversation or moments, especially when Heeseung trips over his words trying to talk to you.

The week goes by too quickly for your liking. Spending time in London has felt like coming back home, in a way. You’ll always have your memories here and this city will remain the same when you return in the future. Now, it no longer feels like the place you escape too because things got too hard back home.

Even with Heeseung next to you more often than not, you’ve found a happy medium The awkwardness dissipates when you set aside your indifference to show everybody your favorite places, watching them explore the city for themselves.

As expected, Riki and Jake have spent a little too much on clothing with the hopes that they can fit it into their luggage on the way back. It fits miraculously.

Your friend Leo, the one whose brother owns the pub you used to frequent, tells you he’s excited to see you after all these months. It’s a Friday night when you arrive, seeing it well populated. But it’s rather early in the evening before the rush hour, so you enjoy the relative quietness before people rush in.

Heeseung, on the other hand, has been in a stupor for the latter half of the week. It began when he managed to talk to you in the bookstore, but blossomed when he watched you navigate your way around the city. You barely looked at your phone for directions and had no problem switching to English when you greeted shop owners. Hearing you speak fluently in a language you once struggled with in your childhood made him feel somewhat removed from your life. The two of you used to joke that he was always better with English. Now, the tables have turned.

The fear that you’d told your school friends about what transpired between the two of you plants itself in the back of Heeseung’s mind. He worries that your friends won’t like him and that you’ve scorned his name, but he chides himself just as much as he worries because he knows you and how deeply you care about people.

Heeseung wishes he could go back in time to change what happened. He wishes that he’d admit his mistake and confess to you before you left. It had taken him a long time to confront his own feelings, but seeing you back in Korea made him realize he didn’t care if the relationship was long distance or not. He didn’t care as long as you were in his life.

The months spent apart without phone calls or texts were agony. He loathed hearing what you were up to from your mutual friends or when he accidentally watched your Instagram stories. Seeing you happy without him made his heart lurch, not out of possessiveness, but because he wished you were comfortable enough to share those moments with him.

To boil it down, Heeseung hopes this trip can undo a year’s worth of his ignorance.

But before he can think about that, your exclamation pulls him towards a strange man before you.

“Leo!”

The sheer volume of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung, who eyes the bloke the second you make a dash for him. His heart winces when your arms wrap around the stranger’s neck and as he spins you around, squeezing you for good measure. He isn’t pleased when Leo settles to let his arm rest around your waist instead of letting you go. He’s even less so when you don’t attempt to separate yourself from him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Leo says with a boyish grin, accent making Heeseung nearly roll his eyes.

“This is Leo.” You let your head rest on his shoulder for a brief moment. “He’s one of my friends from university. I think we met in, what, second year?”

“Second year, auditing class with Professor Donahue on Mondays and Wednesdays,” he says. “God, that class was so boring.”

“He’s the friend whose brother owns the bar,” you explain to them. You introduce Leo to each friend respectively. “Jay and Jake are my friends who are fluent in English.”

“You can speak it and understand it as well, right?” Leo asks as he shakes Heeseung’s hand.

He nods while giving him a tight smile. “Just a little. I’m practicing.”

“Nah, you sound perfect already.”

Heeseung feels indifferent to see you in your element with people from your past. The bartender, who is Leo’s brother, tells you the first two rounds are on the house after he checks IDs. Riki and Jungwon are excited to have their first pub experience after you make them promise to take it slow and drink lots of water in between.

“It’s a bit weird seeing her be like that,” Leo says to Jay with a laugh. “When we first got to know each other, it was me who had to tell her to watch how much she drank.”

“Y/N, drinking?” Jake asks. “No way. Back in Korea, she got drunk maybe twice a year.”

“She and a mutual friend, Elizabeth, were as thick as thieves. They were like a package deal before we all graduated and until she moved to the States. They’d always go a little too hard after exam season was over or if people invited them out on a Saturday night.”

“Y/N’s always been the responsible one out of the bunch,” Jay adds. “In high school, there was one time she got so drunk that she nearly scaled the roof of my friend’s house. Heeseung nearly fell off trying to get her down. After that, she swore off alcohol.”

Heeseung makes a few comments in the conversation as he watches you catch up with Leo’s brother and as you facilitate conversation between the rest of the guys. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

The two of you talked less as you became more comfortable in your environment. At first, Heeseung took it to heart and made the assumption that you’d chosen your friends in England over him, but a stern conversation with his mother made him realize he was being juvenile. He could only comfort you so much when he was oceans away. It was probably a good thing that you were talking to him less because that must’ve meant you were as overwhelmed or scared like you were when you first moved to England.

You’d still call him a few times a week before bed–when Heeseung was getting ready for the day–to update him on everything that happened in the past week. You two texted more frequently than you conversed, sending him pictures of new places you’d discovered or him sending photos of your mutual friends with sad faces at the notion of you not being able to be there with them.

Heeseung had always felt a bit jealous of your time abroad. He loved Korea, but he yearned for the same sense of adventure you once had. Only, he hadn’t figured it out until halfway through university when it was too late to transfer or apply for a semester abroad. When Jay had proposed this trip and that his father would expense half of it, he jumped at the opportunity to go.

Although, he didn’t know it would hurt him this much.

Hearing you talk about your life here made him feel like it was his fault that he barely knew your life in England. It was so easy when the two of you lived a few blocks from each other; he’d run into you with your other friends on the street or know exactly where you were likely to be at any given moment. He knew you felt the same way about him too, as you always knew where to find him if you really needed him.

But it feels like this is the first time he’s seeing you for who you are as an adult, not the child that he grew up with.

Surely, Heeseung always knew you had a good head on your shoulders. You were always the more outspoken one who stood up for what you believed in, no matter how big or small. You never backed down if someone was giving you a hard time and it was one of the reasons why Heeseung had struck up a conversation with you as you two played in the sandbox after a few kids had stolen the toys he was playing with. That sense of responsibility and gratuity followed you into your adolescent and teenage years, too. Not once had Heeseung heard anyone say a bad word about your character. He’d like to think he had something to do with it, but deep down, Heeseung knows it was all you.

When you confessed nearly a year ago, Heeseung felt like his heart might’ve ceased to function properly. Truth be told, he’s never taken his daydreams about being your boyfriend too seriously. He always wondered if it was normal to develop small crushes on your girl-friends at a young age and wondered if those butterflies in his stomach was because of how often his other friends at school would playfully tease him until they stopped. Jake and Sunghoon had been people who teased him for having a girl as his best friend until they befriended you too, and Heeseung was satisfied when they stopped with their comments. They, too, could understand why Heeseung was so keen on keeping you around.

But the butterflies never quite left him. Your smile was too bright. Your voice was too angelic. Everything about you and how you fit into his life felt a little too perfect; Heeseung hated cliches in his youth and this felt like one big cliche joke. He knew his mother didn’t approve of the girls she’d see him with, even in college when he got into his first serious relationship. She wasn’t as enthusiastic about her as she was with you. At the time, the frustration seemed too biased until it ended in a way that made Heeseung realize his mother truly knew what was best for him.

Heeseung never considered the possibility of dating you until you confessed your feelings for him.

As much as he plays off being the spontaneous, go-with-the-flow type of person, Heeseung gets scared when things go unplanned. He backs away from courage and from moments that make or break his character. He likes to play it safe unless he can make a calculated risk in his favor, choosing to let others fall flat on their face and learn from their mistakes. Heeseung had never considered the possibility of you having feelings for him either. That fateful summer night is one he will always remember, especially in the way the light in your eyes dimmed when he told you he didn’t feel the same.

He remembers your quick apologies and the way you backed away too quickly for his liking. He had tried to reach for your hand to tell you it was okay and that he didn’t feel awkward about it, but you’d shook your head and merely told him you’d see him later. Heeseung had never seen you leave so abruptly. But he figured you’d get over it, as you typically do when things don’t go your way. You’re resilient like that.

Heeseung assumed you needed time to heal from the awkward encounter and hadn’t reached out to you for a week. He didn’t think much of it at the time and hadn’t made plans with you until he realized you’d be leaving for Europe the week following. By then, it had been too late, because he stopped by your house the morning after you left.

Getting together with Seulgi after you left felt too easy. He knew she’d always had a thing for him but brushed her off for reasons he couldn’t fathom until he bumped into her a few weeks after you’d left without so much as a text or a voicemail. Feeling a bit irritated at your wordless departure, Heeseung took Seulgi out on a few days to take his mind off of you.

Except, it didn’t work. Heeseung found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to go out to dinner with you when she was sitting in front of him. When she’d texted him to thank him for his time, Heeseung imagined the kind of things you would say after your first date. When he kissed her for the first time underneath the twinkling lights of a local fair, Heeseung pictured you as he closed his eyes. The fantasy was ruined when Seulgi’s perfume touched his olfactory senses, pulling him back into reality. The guilt of kissing somebody who wasn’t you ate at his chest the moment he saw Seulgi smile at him from where he stood.

He tried his best with her but broke it off when the unrest overtook his mental wellbeing. It was amicable, for the most part. All Heeseung knows is that his parents (along with all of his friends) were happy that he hadn’t continued with that relationship.

“Y/N used to talk a lot about you, Heeseung,” Leo says, bringing the aforementioned out of his thoughts. “We’d be out at dinner or something and she’d always run outside to answer your calls.”

“Really?” Heeseung says out of surprise. He didn’t know you did that.

“You bet,” Leo replies. “She talked a lot about Korea when we’d hang out with our friends but she seemed to talk about you the most.”

Heeseung wonders if you told him about what happened between the two of you the summer before you left.

“I’m flattered.” Heeseung honestly doesn’t know what else to say. He chooses to tell the truth. “I missed her a lot. I grew up with her living a few blocks away. It felt weird not to be with her when I went to college.”

“Y/N said the same thing. Every time she’d be homesick, she’d tell us she needed to call you.” Leo’s words bring a warm flush to Heeseung’s face but he chooses to blame it on the alcohol.

“I heard my name,” you say as you walk to where they’re sitting. “Not talking shit about me, my dear Leo?”

“Never,” he teases. “Although, I’m sure I still have some pretty photos of you and Elizabeth at this very pub.”

“Oh God, please don’t.” You push his shoulder when he moves to reach his phone. “Those do not need to see the light of day and you definitely need to delete them.”

“How else am I going to blackmail you?”

“You’re the worst.” You look cute when your nose is a bit red from drinking. You always did suffer from redness to the face when you drank. “I can’t believe Elizabeth and I let you into our friend group.”

“Hey! I was the one who introduced you to her in the first place.”

“I’ll bet if I texted her right now, I’d have it in writing that she’d choose me over you.”

“Okay, you don’t need to do that because she definitely would.”

The group laughs and conversations flow nicely as a few other friends from your university days join you later in the evening. It feels like a reunion, of sorts. It feels especially wonderful to have most of your favorite people under one roof despite the slight language barrier. But everyone seems to get along well enough, especially Riki, who has taken a liking to your Japanese friend you met on your first day of orientation.

When the room gets too hot, you make your way outside where you’re fenced in by a metal barricade. It’s cold outside, but the alcohol running through your veins keeps you warm enough that you decide not to go back to ask for a jacket. Heeseung wants to follow you but stays still in his seat when he sees Sunghoon exit the door after you leave.

The wine in your hands is still halfway full. You’ve decided that you’ve taken the lead far too many times this week and that Jay can handle getting everyone home. It’s your fourth drink of the night, just enough to keep you buzzed for the duration of your time at the pub.

You register the door sliding open and make room for Sunghoon when you spot him over your shoulder.

“Your friends are really nice,” he comments, leaning on the railing next to you.

“They’re the best,” you say with a fond smile. “I owe them a lot. I only started enjoying my time here when we became friends.”

“You know, I was a little worried that you wouldn’t be happy when you moved to London for the first time.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I think a lot of people would describe you as brave and as someone who will dive in head first to things that scare you, which is true for the most part. But I think people rarely pay attention to the vulnerable side of people like you because it looks like you have it all together.”

“I was a total wreck when I first moved,” you said. “I don’t know if you remember the few times I called you when Heeseung wasn’t able to pick up.”

“Oh, I remember. That was the first time you cried to me and now you have no issue getting your snot on my sweaters.” You swat his arm at the joke but he dodges you just in time. “I remember Yeji getting worried about you too. She was so young and always said she wanted to be brave like you.”

“Sweet girl,” you say.

“The two of you are similar. I watch out for her a lot, you know? Our relatives always think she puts on a brave face and don’t think twice when she talks about her fears. They always tell her she’ll be fine, but it’s hard to actualize that when you don’t believe it.”

“I thought about coming home a few times when things got really hard,” you confess. “I was out of my depth because I couldn’t speak English very well. I could only speak fragments and getting my way around campus was so hard.”

“I don’t know how you did it, if I’m being honest. But I’m glad that you stuck around long enough to see what your life would be like.”

“Me too. I’d really love to think I’ve become a better person now that I’ve gotten the chance to know myself beyond the comfort of my home, you know? I love you guys and I love my family, but sometimes being back in Korea felt like I was listening to what was expected of me instead of what I wanted.”

Sunghoon laughs. “Yeji said the same thing a few weeks before we left for London. Part of me thinks she’s considering studying abroad. I found a few college brochures in her room.”

“Don’t you know better than to snoop inside your sister’s bedroom?”

“Yah,” he says. “Yeji steals too many of my sweaters and she said I could get them back.”

“You’re just too easy to make fun of, Hoonie.”

A comfortable silence passes over the both of you. The audible sound of people talking amongst themselves and the beautiful lights of the city illuminate what makes London so beautiful. It isn’t until Sunghoon speaks that you pull yourself out of your daydreams.

“I heard you that night,” Sunghoon confesses.

“What are you talking about?”

“The night of the bonfire.I know you told Heeseung you liked him.”

You turn your head to him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you’d tell me whenever you felt ready,” he says with a shrug. “You went back to London a couple of weeks later and I wanted to spend time with my friend. There never seemed to be a right time.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and balances from one leg to another. “You looked really sad, Y/N. I’ve never seen you look that way before.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Sunghoon listens as you sigh and you push yourself from the railing. Your back touches the cold metal as you look beside yourself to see him.

“I deluded myself into thinking Heeseung might’ve felt something for me too,” you admit. “It’s not that girls and boys can’t be friends, but towards the end of our friendship, it was like something shifted.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’d…touch me longer. Hugs, pulling me by my waist at parties, lingering near me at Riki’s bonfires, that kind of thing. He started playing with my fingers a lot more. Heeseung never used to touch me like that. He’d interrupt conversation with guys to pull me away. I always knew what he was doing but I liked him so much that I didn’t care if he interrupted a good thing between me and someone else.”

Sunghoon purses his lips and watches as you look ahead at the glass doors to see your friends laughing. “I noticed that too.”

“When we were alone, it felt like he was one sentence away from telling me he loved me more than a friend. Not that platonic crap that the eight of us tell each other, but the deep shit where that kind of love comes from kindred souls.”

“Heeseung’s too stupid to see what’s good for him anyway.” Sunghoon pulls a laugh out of you and he’s glad to hear it.

“But then I confessed to him the night of that bonfire.” You bite your lip at the memory, willing yourself not to tear up. “I mean, you heard him. He told me he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to ruin our friendship because it was perfect as it was.”

“And then you heard he’d gotten together with Seulgi.”

“Yeah.” You nod once and look down at your drink.

“They weren’t together long,” Sunghoon says. “She wanted more but he didn’t want to give that to her. The boys were confused because he seemed to be really happy with her until he broke it off so sudden. I always thought it was because he felt too guilty after rejecting you.”

“What did the guys think?”

“Riki hated her. I have a feeling it was because she wasn’t you, though. I think Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jake were surprised when he’d gotten together with Seulgi after you left and were trying to be nice about it. Jay was indifferent, but then again, you two weren’t as close as you were with the rest of them until he visited you while you were away.”

“Did his opinion change?”

“Definitely. Heeseung had a period of time in the new year where he went on a couple of dates with her, telling us he might’ve made a mistake by breaking things off too soon.” Sunghoon shakes his head as he tells the story. “Jay was unbelievably pissed.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how he gets when he’s angry. He’s quiet and doesn’t talk until he’s calm. But it was like a volcano erupted, or something. Jay came back mid January to find out Heeseung had been seeing Seulgi for a couple of weeks and completely lost it on him. He said things about not knowing a good thing if it spat in his face and how he ruined every chance of happiness because of his own doing.”

“Wow…I didn’t know Jay said that.”

“It was scary. Heeseung tried to fight back and say it was his life and that Jay didn’t have a right to say what he could and couldn’t do, but the poor guy never stood a chance. Jay asked him if he would be happy if you came back to see him dating Seulgi and that shut him up real quick.”

“What do I have to do with it?” you ask. “He rejected me before I left.”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon says truthfully. “I always thought that Heeseung was trying to redeem himself through Seulgi. But I guess we’ll never truly know.”

“It’s been almost a year,” you reminisce. “You’d think I would’ve gotten over him by now after spending time in Europe with, well, other boys.”

“He’s not just any guy who rejected you,” Sunghoon says. He looks out at the street, finding the words to say. “You two had been best friends since before me or the guys got to know either of you. There’s a special kind of bond between people who grew up together, you know?

“I think a large part of you misses being friends with him. Sure, rejection always stings, but it’s knowing that you don’t have your best friend that hurts you more.”

“Jeez,” you chide. “You always know how I feel.”

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m just observant. I know that it’s hard to be on this trip because Heeseung’s trying to be that friend you once knew. He probably feels guilty for giving you the cold shoulder during your first few weeks back in Seoul.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well he’s not doing a great job showing it. Life would be easier if he left me alone.”

“But do you want that?”

You cast your eyes to the floor. “No, I don’t.”

Satisfied with your answer, Sunghoon nods.

“You know, I knew Heeseung had feelings for you the night we played spin the bottle just before we graduated high school.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hoon. He never liked me.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Do you remember what happened that night?”

“Vaguely. I remember that being my first time trying alcohol and Jake having to cut me off when I couldn’t walk straight.”

He nods. “When you were sober enough to string a few sentences together, some girl suggested playing spin the bottle. When it was your turn to spin, it landed on me.”

You make a face. “Ah. I do remember kissing you.”

“Well you don’t have to look grossed out,” Sunghoon teases. “Everyone knew it was awkward because we’d been friends for like, five years at that point. We were both so flustered that the kiss lasted for maybe two seconds before everyone cheered.

“Heeseung was pissed. I saw him looking at me like I’d killed his family, or something. I swore I could see steam coming out of his ears. He wouldn’t talk to me for a week because I’d been your first kiss.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious.” Sunghoon laughs at the memory. “He wouldn’t answer my texts. In the group chat we were in, he’d acknowledge everyone but me. It wasn’t until a week later when we were all hanging out that I told him there was nothing between us and it was awkward to kiss you in front of our friends.”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “Huh.”

“I’ve never told anyone that,” he confesses. “I doubt anyone remembers us kissing except for him. I assumed this would be a story I’d tell you and the guys when you both eventually got together.”

He murmurs an apology. “It’s okay, Hoon. I’m glad you told me. I guess I’m just…confused. Why did he reject me if he allegedly liked me?”

“I wish I knew. He was miserable when you left and refused to talk about you moving back to Europe for your final year abroad. Heeseung was really sad when he found out you weren’t coming home for Christmas break.”

“I couldn’t bear to see him. I was so heartbroken and the friends here tonight were consoling me in the way they knew how. I knew I’d be a depressed wreck if I came back home.”

“That makes sense,” Sunghoon affirms for you. “I’m glad you met up with Jay while he was here, though. You got some kind of Christmas gift from home.”

“Me too. I feel like Jay and I got closer because of it. I knew he could tell something was off but he didn’t say anything about it. Something tells me he knows more than he cares to say.”

“You know Jay.” You both nod. “More observant and caring than the rest of us. Part of me thinks Heeseung’s jealous of your new friendship with him since the two of you basically planned this whole trip on your own.”

“Well, Jay has more international travel experience and his dad knows the right people,” you say with a shrug. “I spent four years of my life here. It makes sense.”

“To us, yes. To Heeseung? I think his feelings cloud his judgment.”

“He never used to confuse me,” you admit. “We used to talk about how much we hated when people made us guess how they felt or what they were thinking. We always said it was unfair if you make people you love, make you guess their intentions. But he’s doing that to me and it’s been driving me insane.

“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I watched him date girls in high school. I watched him with what I thought would be his first serious girlfriend during our first year of college before he went through that short hookup phase. God, that hurt me so bad and I couldn’t say anything because it wasn’t my life.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it was brave of you to confess to him,” Sunghoon tells you. “I don’t say that as a cheap cop out to make you feel better either. You know me, I’m really sentimental about things even if I don’t come off that way. To confess your feelings to someone who you love…one can only hope to hear that someday.”

You nudge your shoulder with his. “You say that like you didn’t have girls begging for a date.”

Sunghoon laughs and you know what he means.

“You’ve always been the bravest of all of us,” he continues. “I think the reason why I wanted to be friends with you when we were kids is because you didn’t take bullshit from people. I was too shy to stand up for myself between my career as a figure skater while trying to be a normal kid. You and Heeseung offered that kind of normalcy. I could see you two in the bleachers at my competitions and then we’d go out for ice cream like it was any other day.”

“Well, now you’re going to make me cry.”

“I mean it, Y/N. You’re a great friend and a great person. I hope Heeseung hasn’t fucked things up too bad that you leave his life for good.”

You shiver. “Me too.”

“Talk to him,” Sunghoon advises. “Do it before we leave. You’re removed from your life back home.” You open your mouth to refute but he beats you to the chase. “If it doesn’t work out, then you’ll know your answer when you go home and you can resume your life without Heeseung in it.”

Sunghoon leaves you alone with your thoughts but makes you promise that you’ll join the group soon.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

When you walk back into the pub, Jake clouds your personal space before you can even think about ordering another drink.

“Jesus, Hoon. Couldn’t you have offered Y/N your jacket if you guys were gonna be out that long? Poor girl looks like she’s about to freeze to death.

Jake’s affinity for the dramatic never ceases. Your friends look at your goosebumps and the way you’re acclimating to the warmer temperature inside while Sunghoon merely rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say. “We only came in because I started to get cold.”

“Let me get my jacket for you,” Heeseung says as he rises from his seat.

“No.” You’re sure you say it too abruptly, but you can’t bear the thought of wearing his clothes after the conversation you just had. “I’m fine, honestly.”

“Stop being stubborn and wear a damn jacket,” Leo chides, wrapping his coat around your shoulders. “You have this habit of never bringing one when you need it and it drives me crazy.”

“But that’s what I have you for, don’t I?”

As you tug the material closer to your body, Sunghoon watches as Heeseung stares at Leo with a hard expression.

“Not when you’re back in Seoul, you goof.” Leo takes your empty glass. “I’m glad you have these guys back at home. They seem really good for you.”

“I love them a lot.” You say it so tenderly with your head tilted as you look at the boys you’d call family, only for them to coo at your clearly vulnerable, inebriated state.

“My mother, my older sister, and best friend,” Riki says with a hiccup as he engulfs you in a hug. “Seriously, I would be dead in a ditch without you.”

“I don’t know a better person,” Sunoo chimes in from where he’s seated.

“There was one time where Y/N had this lemon phase where she couldn’t stop drinking lemonade or eating lemon candy,” Jake tells the group. “Now I think of her every time I see something yellow.”

“That’s kind of fitting though, isn’t it?” Leo asks. “Yellow for sunshine.”

Everybody agrees and it makes your cheeks and neck warm up. You hide yourself in Leo’s jacket, but God, Heeseung wishes he could hide you in his arms instead.

Still, he can’t help but agree with Leo. If there’s any truth to his words, it’s that you are made of pure, unfiltered sunshine.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The next morning, all eight of you board the train for a two-hour ride to Paris. For the next five days, you’ll be acting as a tourist rather than tour guide, for the most part. Jay volunteers to take the lead since you did most of the heavy lifting in London. You do, however, chime in to give him a few recommendations from your prior visits to the city.

Sunghoon’s advice plagues your thoughts, so much so that Jungwon has had to guide you out of the hotel and into the cab before arriving at the train station. Both he and Sunoo look a bit worried about you, but you wave them off and tell them you had one too many to drink. You know they don’t believe you but you’re grateful they don’t press on.

Paris is much more beautiful than you remember it, and it’s likely due to the fact that you’re here on vacation, not because you wanted a weekend getaway to escape the stress of midterms and exams. The people are just as indifferent as ever. You’re able to practice some of your basic French to order coffee and pastries for everyone. It’s a feat that leaves Heeseung impressed and you try not to acknowledge him when you see his jaw drop.

The hotel itself is more beautiful than the last. You have the room with the balcony and double doors leading to a breathtaking view of the buildings and streets below. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, even if the streets are littered with trash and the people are a bit too loud. It still feels charming.

The rooming situation is the same as London, with you in the single room and the rest of the boys to fend for themselves. This time, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunghoon are sharing the three bedroom with Heeseung and Jake sharing another, and Sunoo and Riki in the other double. The hotel must’ve miscalculated the rooming situation and put your single room at the end of the hallway away from the others, but you aren’t complaining.

The first few days are filled with happiness and dread, namely when you see Heeseung as you begin your day. He has a knack for making you laugh until you come to the notion that you really shouldn’t be finding his jokes very funny because he doesn’t deserve that kind of reaction from you.

In fact, he doesn’t deserve your attention after ignoring you for as long as he has. Seeing Leo again brought up memories of crying in his flat with Elizabeth and drinking too much wine to forget the pain temporarily. Your friends invited you to a night spent in the pub after Leo begged his brother to close it for the night so that you could have a free space to drink and talk about Heeseung until your voice gave out.

Your irritation carries over and Heeseung can tell when you move away from him when he tries to stand next to you. He’s hurt but he tries to understand that you have a right to be, even if he knows in his heart the reasons why he acted the way he did. He just needs to find time to talk to you, even if the conversation doesn’t end the way he hopes it will.

With two days left on the trip, you’ve eaten your way through the streets of Paris and have done your fair share of shopping. Each of the boys had bought you a small token of their appreciation (Heeseung paid for your latte, Jay purchased a small wallet from Prada, Jake gifted you new sunglasses, Sunghoon a charm for your bracelet, Sunoo a bowl of pasta for lunch, Jungwon a pair of earrings, and Riki a new jacket that looks similar to his from back home). It warms your heart to know you have people who care about you enough to show and tell you.

The Eiffel Tower calls your name one late afternoon and by the time you all manage to walk up, the sun is setting below the horizon. There are couples around Heeseung who are taking photos left and right, one of which asks him to take a few pictures for them. He can’t help but wish he was in their place, asking a stranger to take a photo of the two of you as he kisses the apple of your cheek. Heeseung snaps a few good ones before the couple thanks him.

It doesn’t help that you look like a walking goddess. Truth be told, Heeseung wanted to buy you more than just coffee when the boys agreed to each give you something as a token of their gratitude. Heeseung had come up with a list of ideas he wanted advice for, but it was Sunghoon who’d told him to keep it simple for your sake. He was right, as always, because you thanked him with a pleasant smile instead of ignoring him like you had in the days prior. Heeseung gets the feeling that you wouldn’t appreciate a grand gesture from him right now.

He hates that he can’t read you like he used to. He hates that the other friends know you better than he does, and he hates that he’s in the City of Love and he can’t call you his girlfriend.

Riki and Jungwon are more perceptive than they let on. Heeseung sees the way their eyes dart between the two of you and how they’ve been trying their best to navigate the new dynamic. Riki, especially, hadn’t been receptive of Seulgi the first time Heeseung invited her to a bonfire. Heeseung had overheard the younger boy telling Jungwon it wasn’t the same without you there and that he’d rather go home than spend another minute getting to know someone who wasn’t you.

At the time, Heeseung was beyond irritated and refused to speak to Riki for the rest of the night. Now, however, he understands why Riki acted the way he did.

You look so beautiful underneath a Parisian sunset. Heeseung knows he’s staring. He’s grateful that you’re too preoccupied with Sunghoon taking photos of you. But God, he wishes you’d laugh at him like that.

“You should talk to her,” Jake says from beside him. Heeseung jumps at his sudden appearance. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I want to.” Heeseung says it out loud for the first time. He wants to work it out with you and get his best friend back in whatever way you’ll allow. “I miss her, Jake. I miss being her friend and I fucked up when I rejected her.”

Heeseung doesn’t notice Jake’s eyes widen at the sudden admission. Jake had his fair share of theories and considered Heeseung to be his best friend, but even he knew there was a limit about what he was willing to share and what he kept to himself. Heeseung’s friendship with you was something he stopped trying to learn a few years after he got to know you; Heeseung had a soft spot for you and had no problem letting people know that. It wasn’t until you mentioned to Jake that you hadn’t spoken to Heeseung in months that he knew something was up.

“She clearly cares about you,” Jake says. “She wouldn’t be on this trip if she didn’t.”

“But she’s been ignoring me the past three days. And before you say it, yes, I know that she has a valid reason to, but I’m hurt and I want to make things better.”

“You have to let her take the reins and let her talk to you when she wants to,” Jake advises. “You know how she is. Y/N’s headstrong and she might not know how she feels right now, but she always knows what’s best for her. You’re good for her, Heeseung. Let her come to that conclusion on her own.”

Heeseung relinquishes his breath. “You’re right. I just…miss her. A lot. Things will never go back to the way they used to but I don’t think I want them to. I used to pray every night that I could somehow make everything like it was before that night but now I want more than that. She deserves better and I want to be better for her, not that coward who was too scared to try something new with the person he loves.”

His friend’s words bring a smile to Jake’s lips. “Well I, for one, believe in you. I think the rest of the guys do too.”

“I know,” Heeseung says softly with his eyes on you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

You can’t believe you leave Europe in two days as you sip your wine. Jay’s father was gracious enough to reach out to his friend at the hotel’s restaurant to negotiate having this meal compensated. It’s a gesture you hold onto and make a mental note to write a thoughtful note when you settle back in Korea. Jay sits next to you and partakes in the wine activities with you, namely picking out two different bottles to share with the table. Talking to Jay like this makes you feel otherworldly, like you’ve gotten more experience out of life since you chose to study abroad. You feel lucky, in a sense, that your life has given you more than you expected it too.

The younger boys head upstairs after dessert and bid you all a goodnight in case they don’t see you before falling asleep. For the next thirty minutes or so, it’s the five of you laughing away at the hotel bar like old times, reminiscing about embarrassing moments from high school or how difficult it was to hear Jake’s Korean when he first moved.

The Australian leaves as soon as he yawns. Sunghoon, a little too tipsy upon standing from the bar table, presses a gentle kiss to your head when he says goodnight to the rest of you. Jay gives your arm a reassuring squeeze and you understand for the first time that he always knew you better than he let on. He says goodnight and tells the bartender to charge his room whenever you two close the tab.

Now, you and Heeseung are sitting together, mere inches apart as the Parisian sky twinkles with stars above the two of you.

Neither of you know what to say. You fidget with the glass and contemplate on whether you should head up as well. Heeseung can sense your awkwardness and wish he hadn’t messed things up so badly that you can’t stand to be alone with him without thinking of an escape plan. He misses when the two of you could sit in complete silence and still feel comfortable around one another.

“Thank you for showing us around,” he speaks up before you can make the decision to leave. “I remember you talking about all of the places you showed us when you first moved here. I’ve always wanted to visit.”

“Really?”

Heeseung nods. “I used to be so jealous that you got the opportunity to travel abroad every time you talked about it. But I think I like it better this way, with you as the tour guide.”

That brings a laugh out of you and Heeseung can’t help but smile. He doesn’t care if it’s the alcohol allowing your walls to come down. He’s grateful for the chance.

“I used to write down places I wanted to show you,” you confess. “There were so many places that reminded me of where we’d used to hang out as kids. It always felt like there was a part of you with me.”

His heart melts. “I wish I could’ve visited you while you were here. Your friends seem pretty cool.”

“They are.” Heeseung watches you smile. “They’ve been with me through a lot and helped me get over this fear of failing in a different country. My friend Suki, who now lives in Tokyo, was the first person to really get me out of my shell and convinced me to go out. Awkward Y/N? Going to clubs?”

“You know how to dance, though. I bet you killed it.”

“A little too much, perhaps. I didn’t date or hook up much, but there were a few times that I did.” Heeseung’s heart begins to sink as does his hope. This is not where he wanted to lead the conversation but his ears perk up at your next point. “But I wasn’t happy doing that so I stopped making out with random guys on the dance floor.”

“If only thirteen-year-old you could see you then,” he teases. You bump his shoulders with yours and he feels electricity running down his arm.

“I think I did a good job adjusting and learning. There were times where I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing with my life because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to stay in London or go back to Seoul. That burden felt too much.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you came back home.”

Your head whips to look at Heeseung, who can only sit and watch as your eyes begin to water.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I texted and called you?” you ask meekly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you see me when I came back?”

“I know.” He gulps. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry.”

You sniffle and Heeseung wants to cry too. “Everyone came to pick me up at the airport. I kept looking for you but you weren’t there. Jake had to pull me away from baggage claim because he said you weren’t coming but I didn’t listen. I told him he was wrong. You always come.”

Heeseung’s soul breaks with every crack in your voice and with the way your lips quiver. He sees your mascara beginning to smudge and resists the urge to wipe it away so that your eyes may look fresh and dry.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I have no excuse.”

“I wanted my best friend but you never showed up for me. You didn’t call or text me when you knew I was home and I had to wait until Riki’s bonfire to see you.”

“I was an idiot and stupid,” is the only answer Heeseung can come up with. “I used to be so scared of change. You left the country and I had to start thinking about what I wanted to do with my life but it was so hard without you in it.”

“Then why did you leave me?”

His heart shatters.

You’ve turned away from him in an attempt to walk back to your hotel room. However, Heeseung has learned his lesson. He doesn’t let you stray too far and gently tugs your wrist to pull you into his chest and is surprised when you don’t fight him off of you.

He doesn't care that your tears have stained his shirt or that you’re hiccupping into his clothes. All Heeseung wants to do is let you know he’s here for you now, despite his past mistakes and clouded judgment. Heeseung loves you for your bravery and vulnerability. He can only hope you understand that.

“Let’s go to your room, yeah? I can help you take your makeup off.”

Whether from the alcohol or your need to be near Heeseung, you let him guide you to the elevator. He digs in your purse for your room key and coaxes you to sit in the bathroom while he locks the door. This routine feels a bit familiar; in his youth, he learned how you like to take your makeup off and get ready for bed after a particularly rough night drinking. He could never understand why he hadn’t minded taking the extra step and to keep himself sober when you were in the vicinity, but he understands it now.

Heeseung meets you in the bathroom and washes his hands before putting your hair in a ponytail. He bites his lips when he sees your fresh tears and mutters another apology, forcing himself not to wipe away the tears with his fingers. Instead, he lets you blot them with a tissue before gathering makeup remover in his hands and gently smears it all over your skin.

“I didn’t like change,” he says after a quiet beat. “I was too cowardly to take what I wanted, even if the person I wanted said they wanted me too. I don’t know why I didn’t chase after you that night or why I thought you needed space before you left. I don’t have an explanation for any of it except to say that I was a coward who never wanted anything to change between us.”

Heeseung warms a wet cloth and wipes the balm away until he’s satisfied and moves on with your favorite cleanser, rubbing it between his hands until it foams.

“I think, deep down, I’ve always loved you more than I led on. I can’t think of any moment in my life where you weren’t there or times that I didn’t want you around. Even when we were in elementary school and everyone kept saying we would get cooties from each other, I wanted you with me.”

He lets you wash your face and applies the rest of your products on as you once taught him.

“I’ve always had this sense of pride when it came to being your friend. Everyone always talked about how cool you were because you always knew what to say and when to say it. I love that about you, you know. You have a way of making people feel like they’re really special. I don’t know why I was so afraid of that.

“I love who you are and what you believe in. You make the world a better place for everyone around you. How you treated me was a small fraction of why I love you. I love your passions and that you aren’t afraid to chase after them. I love that you stick with the same boba order even though you tell yourself you’ll try something new. I love that you hate the beach but go with us every time we ask. I love when you get a little drunk because you don’t fight me when I want to take care of you.”

Heeseung swallows. “But mostly, I just really love you.”

You open your eyes for the first time. Heeseung can only stare.

“You really hurt me.”

He glances down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What hurt the most was knowing you weren’t going to be there as my best friend, Heeseung. I could handle your rejection. I could find a way to get over you. But I could never get over losing our friendship. I never wanted you out of my life because it’s better with you in it.”

“Please don’t get over me,” Heeseung croaks. His own eyes begin to swell and he forces a choked sob down his throat, aggressively wiping his eyes to rid himself of tears. He presses his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. Heeseung swears he feels the blood rushing to his ears as he anticipates your response and he’s sure that even if what you say isn’t what he wants to hear, he’s happy to wear his feelings on his sleeve for once in his life.

“I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

Heeseung’s heart stops beating. He doesn’t kiss you even though he wants to. He doesn’t take your hand and pull you into him like his heart tells him to. Instead, he whispers a quiet thanks and is surprised when he hears you laugh.

“I can’t apologize enough. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do or say anything.”

“I know,” you whisper. Heeseung's hands are dangling awkwardly by his side. He feels like pushing his forehead against yours was too much. But your hands reach for him and you give him a squeeze.

Heeseung throws caution out of the window and envelopes you in a hug. He feels your body melt against his and can’t help but look at the way you’ve folded into his chest in the bathroom mirror, with your head in his neck and his cheek on the crown of your head. Heeseung missed holding you like this–with your bodies intertwined as if you were two soulmates who were forced apart upon creation.

He stroked your back with his hand and kept the other secured around your waist. Your soft breaths touch his skin and it feels like he’s got electricity running through his veins.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung whispers again. “I will keep apologizing until you know the depth of my regret.”

The boy feels like he’s floating when you press a soft kiss to his exposed chest, mentally thanking Jake for forcing him to let loose and unbutton a few.

“You could start by staying with me until I fall asleep,” you say. “Like old times.”

He tries not to punch the air. “I can do that.”

Heeseung waits in the bathroom until you’ve changed into comfortable clothing. He isn’t surprised when he sees you in shorts and an oversized shirt. It’s reminiscent of what you used to wear when you’d sleep in the guest bedroom in his house or vice versa, but now that he’s acknowledged his feelings for you, he can’t help but coo at how cute and sleepy you look.

You tuck yourself in bed with the blankets to your chin and he completely melts to the floor. You pat the spot next to him and he sits on top of the blankets.

“Under the covers, silly.”

“I don’t want to rush it,” Heeseung says in a panic.

“We aren’t rushing. We’re two best friends who got each other back.”

Heeseung has never been more relieved. Though, he knows you’re a stickler for outside clothes in bed, so he makes the decision to take your key card and change.

“I’m not leaving you,” he says when he notices you rise from your spot on the bed. He holds two key cards to prove it and leans over to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to change and then I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He comes back ten minutes later. It warms your heart at the sight of him and you feel the comfort in your body when he slides underneath the covers.

You surprise yourself when you move to lay your head on his chest with your arm around his body. Heeseung doesn’t seem to mind, though, and he pulls you closer to him like you’ve done it a million times before. The two of you have wanted this for too long to make it feel awkward.

“What did Jake say when you came into the room?” you ask.

“He was half asleep until I turned the light on but he asked me if we resolved things. I told him yes and then he asked if I was staying the night with you when he saw me leaving.”

“Am I right to assume he was more excited about having the room to himself?”

Heeseung laughs. “That you are.”

“Deep down, I think Jake knew we’d find our way. I think they all did.”

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung whispers once more. You quiet him with a kiss to his cheek.

“I know, Hee. We can talk more tomorrow. For now, let’s sleep.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The next morning, Heeseung wakes up before you do and frowns when your body’s all the way on the other side of the bed. He leans over your sleeping frame and brushes strands of hair from your face, admiring how serene you look in your sleep. For a moment, Heeseung ponders if it’s too soon to wake you up the way he’d like to, but if last night was any indication about how you felt, he’d be willing to take the chance.

He leans down to kiss your forehead and both of your cheeks repeatedly until your eyes flutter open. Heeseung thinks he could listen to your laugh every morning with the way you wince at the sunlight and how his lips touch your skin. Still, your gaze finds its way to Heeseung’s and you can’t help but smile.

There was a brief moment before you fell asleep that you’d wondered if you’d been too quick to forgive him. But for as hurtful as the past year was, you can’t help but acknowledge the steps he took during the trip in an attempt to undo all of the contempt you had built for him. You owe it to yourself to be happy with Heeseung.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” Heeseung says with his morning voice that sounds a little too good for seven in the A.M. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept like a baby. I feel like one too.”

“That’s because you are a baby,” Heeseung teases, kissing your cheeks and then the tip of your nose. “My baby.”

“I really want breakfast but I’m too lazy to get up from the bed.”

“We could always order in. I’ll pay.”

You shake your head. “I’ll be too tempted to stay in bed and it’s our last full day in Paris. Let’s just get ready and have breakfast at the hotel restaurant?”

The both of you are halfway done eating breakfast when the rest of your friends trickle in, joining your table and the ones next to you. It takes them a while to wake up, but it’s Sunghoon who speaks up first.

“I’m assuming you two talked?”

“And made up,” you say with a tilt of your head.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says proudly, sipping on his coffee.

“I’ll let that slide since we’re all friends,” Heeseung jokes. You laugh and, for the first time in a while, you don’t feel guilty about it.

“I had the whole room to myself, too. I woke up and didn’t have to fight anyone for the bathroom,” says Jake.

Riki nearly spits his juice out. “You guys slept together?”

“Not like that!” you’re quick to exclaim. “He just slept over. Slept. As in, we closed our eyes and actually slept.”

“Both of us knew we needed our beauty sleep before dealing with the six of you asking us questions,” Heeseung adds. “But for your information, we made up. We still have things to figure out, but we’re back to being friends.”

“Hopefully more than that,” Jungwon coughs behind his coffee. He merely smiles when Heeseung looks in his direction.

“I think you two should spend the rest of the day by yourselves,” Jay suggests. “We can either meet up for dinner or whenever we have to check out.”

“I second that,” Sunoo agrees. “You two clearly need to talk.”

“I wanted to go shopping with Y/N again,” Riki says with a frown. Jake presumably knocks his shin with Riki’s, who clears his throat. “But you two should totally hang out without us.”

“I think we might,” Heeseung says, holding his hand out for you to take. He stands from his seat and encourages you to stand as well, leading you away from the table. “Thanks for the breakfast, Jay!”

“I’m choosing to be the bigger person because Y/N’s been through enough,” Jay mutters when Heeseung is out of hearshot, making the table laugh.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“You know, I think the reason why I had such a hard time reaching out was because we’d never gotten into something that serious before,” Heeseung admits. The gelato in your hand isn’t as good as you remember it, but it does the job to cool you down on a particularly warm afternoon.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when we were kids and how hard it was for me to talk to you about anything that was action movies or superheroes?”

“God, you and your Superman cape from fourth grade,” you snort. “You wore that thing to school everyday. Your dad had to wash it every night otherwise you’d refuse to go to sleep.” Heeseung shuts his eyes at the memory.

“You were the only person I felt comfortable pouring my heart out to, you know. You were always the first person I called when I needed someone to talk to, but then I was the reason why you got hurt…I think part of me didn’t know if I was allowed to reach out to you.

“It’s a stupid excuse, I know. But when I heard you were coming back to Seoul a few weeks before you did, I couldn’t help but think about how many times I could’ve texted you.”

“Yeah, you could’ve.” Heeseung merely nods at your agreement. “We’ve been through a lot over the years, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“I just wish I had come to this conclusion when it happened. I was so caught up in graduating and focusing on how I felt that I didn’t consider how you must’ve been dealing with all of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so selfish in my life.”

“I think the time you refused to let me be friends with Jake because you said you needed friends aside from me was your second most selfish moment.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Quit it. I was thirteen, okay?”

Neither of you particularly care to do any sightseeing today. It feels nice to walk side-by-side without the company of your other friends. The juxtaposition of how you felt towards the beginning of this trip compared to how relaxed you feel surprises you a tenfold, but you suppose that comes with genuine apologies and forgiveness.

You’re willing to admit Heeseung looks criminally good in black jeans and a striped button down. He wears his clothes so effortlessly yet still looks like he could’ve taken his wardrobe from a magazine. You’ve always found it a bit unfair that Heeseung always manages to look so cool without trying too hard.

“You’re staring,” he mutters, looking at you from the corner of his eye as the two of you walk down a cobblestone street.

“I’m not,” you lie. You turn your head to avoid his gaze, but Heeseung thinks he likes seeing you this shy. It’s new territory for him, one that he wants to explore.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“Why did you forgive me so quickly?” Heeseung asks. “I appreciate it, I really do, but a big part of me feels like I don’t deserve that just yet.”

It takes you a while to answer. Why did you forgive him as fast as you did? For a week and a half, being in close quarters with Heeseung made you feel nothing but anxious and on edge, so why were you able to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him?

“I’ve always held onto the idea that you’re a good person,” you begin. “I’ve always admired that you intend to care for the people you love and make them feel like they have a place in your life. You’ve always made me feel safe, like I could run to you when things got too hard.

“What you did was in poor taste, sure, but making bad decisions doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I know you, Hee. I know how you get when you’re faced with a difficult choice and how long it takes for you to come around. I was justifiably hurt but I think a part of me always knew you’d fix it somehow.”

“I wish I could feel deserving of that kind of forgiveness.”

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t feel like what I’m saying is true. I’ll admit that I shocked myself with how quickly I let my guard down with you…but you’re Heeseung. You've been my best friend since the first grade and you’re the boy I happen to have a really big crush on.”

Heeseung bites his lips at your confession, willing himself not to be too forward as to kiss you in the middle of the street. He sees your bravery and the way you’ve put your heart directly in the palm of his hand, acting out of vulnerability even though the both of you knew he hurt you once before.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, Heeseung grabs your hands and locks his fingers with yours, squeezing three times to tell you he loves you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The afternoon comes and goes with little to no plan. Heeseung’s a bit worried that he hasn’t heard anything from the boys and he’s rendered shocked that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let the day take you where it may instead of finding the next spot to visit.

As if on cue, Jay texts him with plans for the evening.

jjongcaprio: 20:00, Pétrelle. It’s a five minute walk from the hotel

jjongcaprio: I made reservations for you and Y/N tonight. Don’t worry about me and the boys, just take her out on a romantic date

jjongcaprio: The bill’s covered. The reservation’s under your name btw

heeseung: bro i cannot ask you to do this

jjongcaprio: You don’t have to. You and I both know Y/N deserves to be wined and dined

jjongcaprio: Plus I saw you looking at a few restaurants when we were on the train. I managed to pull some strings for you and got a last minute reservation for tonight

heeseung: thank you jay…i really don’t know what i’d do without you

jjongcaprio: It’s really not a problem, bro. Promise me that you’ll try to be happy with her. The guys and I are rooting for you two

“So,” Heeseung clears his throat as he looks up from his phone, “I think you and I should go out for dinner.”

“Where are you thinking of going? I can text the others and see if they’re done sightseeing, or whatever it is they’re doing.”

“I mean just us two.” He stands awkwardly when you’ve turned your attention to him, his feet planted on the sidewalk beneath him as if that’ll help steady his beating heart.

“Like a date?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “Like I date. I, Heeseung, am asking you out on a date. Tonight. At eight.”

“I, Y/N, would love to go on a date with you. At eight.”

The twinkle in your eye and your coy nature makes him feel like a teenager again. He leads you into the hotel and walks you to your door before stepping back as you step inside.

“We’ve got an hour and a half before we need to leave. I’ll come by and then we can walk together. The restaurant is only a five minute walk, so you can wear those new heels I know you feel guilty buying.”

“They’re really pretty though,” you rationalize.

Heeseung nods. “Gorgeous, actually. Maybe you’ll be as tall as me if you wear them.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Heeseung bites his bottom lip as you disappear behind the door, locking eyes with you until you’re completely out of sight. Flirting with you like this is a completely new phenomenon for him. He’s only daydreamed about what you might say if he said something a little too suggestive or how you might act if he dedicated a wink in your direction. Heeseung had never considered that he’d be the one flustered, cheeks reddening to the point where he starts to feel shy.

His nerves are endless as he picks out an outfit for tonight. Heeseung sends a quick text to his parents, who had pressured him into bringing nice clothes for a fancy dinner, and spends a few minutes updating them on the events of the past few days. His mother is pleased, to put it lightly, and sends a handful of emoticons to display her happiness. His father tells him words of encouragement before making Heeseung promise to bring you for dinner as his girlfriend, not just his best friend.

With the last touch of his cologne, Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror and tries not to think too hard about how he looks. You’re Y/N, his best friend since he can remember, and you’ve seen him with snot dripping from his nose.

“I look fine,” he says to himself in the mirror. “Y/N will like the look because your mom picked it out and we know those two agree on everything. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Heeseung’s only regret is he doesn’t have a bouquet of flowers to present you with as he makes his way to your hotel room. He wipes his palms on his trousers and takes a deep breath before knocking on your door.

When it opens, he’s met with the sight of you in a short black dress that hugs your hips to accentuate your body. The dress itself is an elegant, spaghetti strap number with a flattering neckline paired with jewelry that makes your skin appear to be glowing. Your heels match well with the dress you’ve chosen, so much so that Heeseung’s jaw drops when his eyes rake over your body.

“Wow,” he mutters. “Just…wow.”

“I’m not used to you being speechless,” you say mildly, closing the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous,” he sputters. “I shouldn’t be seen with you tonight.”

“You’re dramatic, Hee.” You give him a once over and Heeseung thinks he wouldn’t mind you checking him out as you please. “You look handsome as ever.”

He beams at the compliment and holds his arm out for you.

“Shall we?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows the type of person you are and what you value, yet he still renders himself shocked when you allow him to take control of the evening. He knows you don’t need to have the expensive consequences that come with a first date or to be sipping the most luxurious wine to be happy, but Heeseung can’t help but feel like you deserve to feel as elegant as you look every once in a while.

The host leads the two of you to a table with the most gorgeous view of the Parisian scenery. The twinkling stars paired with the dimly lit restaurant adds a romantic touch to the evening. Heeseung mentally thanks Jay for preparing wine recommendations so neither of you have to think too much about it.

For a moment, he’s worried that he’s reached too far out of his depth. The fanciest thing Heeseung has ever done with you is eat ramen after prom in your best outfits because you both came to the conclusion that prom should be spent with someone you actually like. It’s funny in hindsight when he thinks about it now.

You look so beautiful like this, allowing yourself to be taken care of by him. Talking to you over the table feels like you’re back in Korea before all that transpired. The food is impeccable and Heeseung thanks his lucky stars that he and Jay got it right. You sing praises left and right.

Dinner ends much quicker than he’d like as the two of you finish dessert. The waiter tells him the bill has been taken care of and Heeseung sits in his seat awkwardly as you look out the window to see the view from outside. But he hears the live band in the background and sees a few older couples slow dancing from where he sits and makes up his mind.

“Do you want to dance?”

You pull your attention to him. For a moment, he thinks he’s asked the most absurd question known to man when he recalls all the times you refused to make a home on the dance floor until you’ve gotten at least four drinks in your system.

You surprise him.

“I’d love to, Hee.”

The room disappears when he leads you to the dance floor. He mimics the other dancers and takes the lead, swaying your bodies back and forth to the melody of the music. You smell of vanilla and cinnamon, a scent so distinctly you that it makes him grin like a man in love.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say against his neck. “I won’t lie when I say I feel like a princess.”

“That’s because you are a princess,” Heeseung says, kissing the top of your head. “You deserve to be treated like one.”

“I can’t believe you pulled this off so quickly. Don’t restaurants like these require reservations?”

He chuckles nervously. “About that…Jay helped me with the details. I was looking up restaurants to take you to if I got the chance before our trip ended. I guess he saw the list and chose the most romantic one out of the bunch.”

“I owe Jay a thank you.”

“We both do.”

“I feel lucky to have people in my life who care about me this much,” you say. “I’m so happy you’re back in my life.”

“I’m happy to be in it.” Heeseung squeezes your waist. “Deep down, it’s always been you that I’ve loved. There’s not a single person who makes me feel the way you do.”

“Yeah?”

You feel him nod. “I’ll say it until you believe me. I’ll even yell it in this restaurant right now.”

“Please don’t,” you laugh. “I believe you.”

The sound of the melody overtakes the conversation. You feel Heeseung’s steady heartbeat as he expertly moves your bodies together on the dance floor. When you close your eyes, you think of this moment and how badly you want to commit it to memory, no longer in anguish over the tribulations of the past year. It feels nice to let go of your worries, even better that you have Heeseung back.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmurs under his breath. You pull your head back.

“Then you should kiss me.”

Heeseung wastes no time and pulls you into him, one arm around your waist and the other behind your neck. His mouth finds yours when he decides he loves the taste of red wine on your lips. It feels poetic to be kissing you for the first time as you’re both dressed to the nines in the middle of Paris. To him, kissing you feels like a breath of fresh air and the start of something new. For you, kissing him feels like coming home.

When he pulls back, you search for his eyes.

“Take me back to the hotel,” you whisper.

Heeseung feels his heart drop.

“I’m sorry. We can go back now.”

You grip the collar of his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt when he moves. It’s only then that Heeseung sees the want in your eyes and the pure lust that clouds your pupils.

“Take me back to the hotel.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

By the time your elevator reaches your floor, Heeseung’s dress shirt is completely unbuttoned with his toned chest exposed. You’re barely able to detach yourself from his mouth when he pushes you out of the contraption. Your hand reaches for his as you pull him towards your room, digging through your purse when you feel Heeseung’s lips on the back of your neck.

“You look sexy in my jacket,” he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to your skin.

“L-Let me find the key.”

“So sexy.” His hands slide up the side of your body until he grips your waist.

When the door opens, you pull Heeseung inside with you and lock it shut before pushing his dress shirt off of his body, exposing his muscular build and broad shoulders. You aren’t shy about hiding your lust, gazing all over his chest and abdomen as you feel your core drip with arousal.

“I like it when you look at me like that,” Heeseung says. He reaches for your hand and places it on his chest. You take the liberty to glide your nails down his abdomen, feeling the way he tenses underneath your touch.

“I’m really wet,” you say as you eye the tent that has grown in Heeseung’s pants.

“Are you?” he asks. “You won’t mind if I check?”

You shake your head and Heeseung takes that as a green light, his hands finding the soft fabric of your dress before pushing his hand underneath it. He whimpers when his fingers come in contact with your wet lips. It’s adorable, the way you push yourself against him to chase his lips while he fingers smear your wetness across the fabric of your panties.

“Bed,” you mumble against his lips.

He follows where you pull him, loving the way you take control when you push him onto the mattress. Heeseung distracts himself to catch his breath from the overwhelming sense of pleasure to realize that you’ve started to undo his belt buckle and take his hard cock out of his pants.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want your cock in my mouth,” you plead, looking him in the eye. “Please let me.”

You sit politely on your knees as you unbuckle Heeseung’s pants. His chest rises and falls in anticipation and he looks down at you to see that your mouth is watering at the sight of him.

He’s already fully hard; he has been since you started unbuttoning his shirt in the elevator. You spit directly onto the tip of his cock and he bites his lip at the sudden contact before watching as you swipe your hand up and down himself.

Heeseung doesn’t want to think about how you learned to do what you’re doing to him. He doesn’t want to think about the boys you’ve kissed or the people who got to see you like this before. What he does know, however, is he’s the only person from here on out who will see you on your knees if he can help it.

Your mouth envelopes the head and Heeseung emits a short grunt. The tension between you two begins to slowly dissipate as you fit more of his cock inside of your mouth. Your tongue expertly traces every ridge and vein as you push your throat down onto him, causing Heeseung to put his palms on the mattress and throw his head back.

You hum around him when he moans. He’s itching to put his hand behind your head but refuses the idea, letting you set your own pace. Heeseung watches as you switch your angle, sitting up to rest on your knees to push your head further down on him. He witnessed as you spread your legs, a choked moan coming from his throat in conjunction with a particular gag from your mouth.

There’s spit everywhere. It’s trailing down your lips and connecting to his cock when you pull yourself from his body. It’s seeping to his pants and he’s about to speak up when your motion attaches itself to his sensitive balls, licking at its warmth while your hand strokes him from atop.

“That’s it. Fuuuuck.”

He bucks his hips once and curses. Heeseung feels your mouth envelop one of his balls, the pressure of your mouth around it making him feel a kind of euphoria he didn’t know was possible. Your mouth moves to the other to give it the same treatment before retreating back to his cock. This time, your hand massages him from below as you suck on him.

When you look up at him and wink, he decides enough is enough.

“Baby,” Heeseung pants, attempting to push your head off of him. He thinks it’s so sexy that you’re turned on while giving him a blowjob. “Baby, please stop. I don’t wanna come yet.”

You oblige and take your mouth off of him with a popping sound. You sit back and Heeseung stares at you through drooping eyelids in pure shock and amazement at how you’ve managed to pull him to a near orgasm as quickly as you did.

“Come here,” he beckons with his fingers.

He attaches his mouth to yours and pushes his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring the warm, wet walls you have to offer. Heeseung decides that he loves the feeling of your tongue against his and lets you suck on the muscle.

You take your dress off to reveal sheer panties with nothing else on. Heeseung’s jaw drops at your beauty, but he also cannot believe how sexy his best friend’s body is. To him, you were sculpted from the hands of Aphrodite herself with great love and care. And it’s all for him.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, hovering over your body to press kisses to the valley of your chest. You let his hands roam and spread your legs to make room for him.

Heeseung’s head travels back to your chest and you watch as he envelops your right nipple in his mouth. “Your tits are just perfect.”

He makes a show out of it, hands cupping your breasts to massage them as his mouth works on you. He pushes your tits together and shoves his face between them, inhaling your scent while his tongue gathers whatever taste your body gives him. Heeseung moves to your left nipple and uses his tongue to flick the hardened bud over and over again until you’re arching your chest into his mouth.

He grinds himself into your core with his pants still loose around his legs. It brings a moan out of your throat and he swallows it whole with his lips pressed firmly against yours. The friction feels delicious with the fabric of your panties against the hardness of Heeseung’s cock. He grinds against you with the help of your hips rolling into his, your natural wetness coating his cock in your essence.

Heeseung moves his head to kiss your jawline, moving his mouth all over the expanse of your neck until he kisses right below your earlobe. You let out a particularly loud moan when he does, and Heeseung curses.

“Shit. Yeah baby, make those sounds for me. Let me hear your pretty moans.”

His mouth attacks the area again and you aren’t shy about it. Your hands tangle in his hair as he kisses your neck and grinds his cock against the wet panties, which have by now molded to the shape of your pussy.

Heeseung groans at the feeling of a particularly wet gush and lifts his hips enough to elicit a whimper out of your mouth. He experimentally lifts his hips again to align himself with you as he did before. The pressure must feel so good because your mouth hangs open with your eyes boring into his.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Does my baby feel good?” You can only nod and he doesn’t blame you. “That’s a good baby. Fuck, you’re so wet, it’s driving me crazy.”

Heeseung feels your legs wrap around him and the way your heel pushes his lower back into your core. He takes the hint and quickens his pace, wanting nothing more than to see you come for him.

“You gotta come for me now, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You deserve to come. Won’t you do that for me?”

Heeseung is sure that he’s never seen or heard anything more erotic compared to the vision of watching you come. Your mouth opens with breathy moans as you focus on your pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut as if you’re trying to savor the moment in your mind.

“Atta girl,” Heeseung praises when your hips grind into his. He keeps himself still and lets your body take over.

You eventually come down and realize Heeseung has yet to come, but that’s the last thing on his mind. He sinks his body down to come face-to-face with your crotch and licks the come off of the soiled fabric of your panties. The sheerness gives him a sneak peek at your pussy, and he groans when he licks a slow, fat strip up your slit.

“You taste so fucking delicious, baby.” He licks at you again, faster this time. “Tastes like milk and honey.”

Heeseung kisses your wet panties over and over again, his soft lips providing jolts of pleasure. His hands roam around the soft flesh of your thighs and squeezes them as if he remembers you’re all his to touch. The feeling is one you want to commit to memory, but it seems like Heeseung knows your mind is working overtime because he reaches his hand to find yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

You let his hand go when he pulls it from you to slide the useless barrier down your legs and to undo the straps of your heels. He takes great care to kiss your skin tenderly, starting by your ankle and making his way down just shy of where you need him the most. Heeseung repeats the process on the other leg until he comes face to face with your glistening core, licking his lips as if he doesn’t know where to start.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your clit.

He repeats the motion, kissing your folds like they’re delicate antiquities that need to be handled with the utmost care. His lips become covered with your essence; he feels you squirm underneath him and uses the expanse of his palms to gently pry your legs open for him, soothing the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Heeseung tentatively licks your slit and decides he loves the sound of your moans when he has his mouth on you. He does it again, dragging his tongue to feel every ridge and crevice that he’s yet to explore. His mouth feels like a warm comfort with the slow pace he sets, licking you as if he’s trying to tell you how much he loves you without saying it.

“You taste divine.”

You look down below to see his hair covering his eyes and brush it away with your hands. Heeseung looks right into your soul and you feel your heart clench, causing you to roll your hips into his face. He merely buries his nose close to you until he bumps your clit with the tip, pushing his wet muscle into you deeper.

When your moans get lighter and your breathy sounds are the only audible thing in the room aside from his own moans. You open your eyes to see Heeseung humping the mattress below you. The sight is so erotic that you can’t help but let out a loud whine at the thought of Heeseung pleasuring himself while pleasuring you.

He brings his fingers to your pussy and sways his fingers back and forth until he foregoes his slow pace, favoring a faster one. He abuses your swollen clit while you can only lay there and watch him play with you. Heeseung expertly inserts his middle finger into your seeping hole and bites his lip to concentrate on getting you to come again.

“I need it,” he confesses, bringing his mouth to lick you as he adds another finger. “I need you to come for me again, baby. Can you do that for me?’

“Yes, Hee,” you pant. “I wanna come so badly.”

“You can do it, baby. You’ve been such a good girl tonight, giving me the best head and letting me make you come. I think you deserve to feel good.”

“I do,” you nod rapidly. “Fuck, I think I’m coming.”

“That’s right,” he coos, hammering his digits into you while his tongue laps up the juices leaking from your pussy. “So good. You taste so fucking good. Give it to me.”

He doesn't relent until he’s satisfied. Heeseung cleans the come from your lips as best he can while sneaking his hand to his cock, pumping himself as he tastes your orgasm on his tongue.

“You’ve crazy,” you mutter as you settle from your high, loving the feeling of Heeseung’s mouth tenderly licking you clean.

“For you.” He pulls his face away and wipes the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to your clit.

When he rises to take his pants and boxers off, he sees you with your arm covering your face.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Perfect, actually,” you sigh. You remove your arm to see him with his cock in his hands and motion him to come towards the edge of the bed as you crawl on your knees before sitting upright to pull him into a searing kiss.

“That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Heeseung says against your mouth. “It’s better than porn, if I’m being honest.”

You grab his cock and stroke him. “I’ll consider letting you take a video of me when we get back home if you fuck me right now.”

“Turn around,” he says after an open-mouthed kiss.

You follow his instructions and he groans to himself as you present your perfect pussy to him again. Heeseung sinks to his knees and smacks your ass before shoving his tongue into your hole. He spreads your asscheeks apart and digs his nose against you, licking up the wetness and remnants of your orgasm like it’s his last meal. His tongue licks up your body until he finds your wrinkled muscle and presses a soft kiss to your tightest hole.

The surprise comes to him when you moan softly. Your body doesn’t jerk away. Rather, you spread your legs further for him and Heeseung moans against your pussy before bringing his tongue to lick over the muscle again.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, dipping his tongue back in.

“Better than I imagined.”

“You imagined my tongue in your ass, baby?”

You nod. “I’ve always wanted to know what that feels like.”

Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer. Instead, he spits into your hole and watches it dribble down to your pussy, licking his way from your incredibly wet folds to your hole once again. He licks over the expanse with the surface of his tongue one, twice, three times before you’re whining for his cock. He wastes no time tearing open the condom and hurriedly places it on himself.

The first stretch of his cock in your pussy makes him see Heaven. The sharp gasp that comes from your mouth is music to his ears and he’s careful to sink himself into you slowly, inch by inch until you’re telling him he can go further.

His cock impales you at such a perfect angle that it has you falling to your elbows, your back arched so perfectly that he’s sure you’d be the most popular pornstar if you really wanted to be. He keeps half of his cock in you to allow you to adjust, but he underestimates just how cock hungry you are because you back yourself until he’s filling you to the brim.

“Baby’s such a slut, isn’t she?” Heeseung wonders out loud. He grins when you nod. “I love you like that. So dirty for me.”

“Only for you,” you say, cheek pressed to the mattress when Heeseung thrusts in you.

The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. It doesn’t take long for your wet juices to glisten over the back of your thighs and onto Heeseung’s. His hands find purchase on your hips as he pulls your body close to him, loving the way your choked moans become muffled by the mattress below.

“So. Fucking. Tight,” he moans with detailed thrusts. “So. Fucking. Wet.”

He climbs on the bed and plants his feet on the blankets, holding your body in place as he pounds into you from above. The angle has you seeing stars and rips moan after moan from you.

Heeseung grins wickedly. “Such a fuckable body. So perfect.”

His degradation paired with praise ignites a fire inside of you. You can only moan louder to let Heeseung know exactly how he’s making you feel and you can’t help but think you deserved to be fucked exactly the way Heeseung is fucking you.

The pleasure feels like an explosion of a thousand suns. Your body is warm from the hours you’ve spent in the hotel room and your neighbors getting a good night’s sleep is the least of your concerns. Heeseung’s cock drills into you from above like he’s a sex god and it nearly brings you to tears.

He turns you over carefully until you’re laying flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. He steals one from you and puts it underneath the small of your back to create leverage before lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing himself in again.

Heeseung thrusts like he’s got to prove just how in love with you he is. Your wanton moans fill the room with his low grunts as his cock continually hits the one spot that makes you see stars, over and over again.

But you know he could do more to make you feel better. He must notice you in deep thought because he slows his hips.

“What is it, baby?” Heeseung asks when he notices your eyebrows knit together. “Is this okay? Do you need me to stop so we can take a break?”

“Take it off,” you whisper. His hips have faltered and his pace stutters at your words.

“Take what off?”

“The condom.” Heeseung nearly chokes. “Take the condom off.”

“Baby—”

“I just wanna feel you.”

Heeseung curses and his hips automatically drill into yours at the request out of pure shock. He can’t lie to himself. He’s thought about it multiple times since you left for Europe and as he’s come to term with his feelings for you. The cute fantasies about taking you on dates to dinner or drive in theaters transform into daydreams about dirty affairs in his bedroom with his seed leaking out of your perfect hole.

Still, he doesn’t believe it.

“Please, Hee,” you plead, arching your chest towards him. “Let me feel you. Don’t you want to come inside me?”

“Fuck,” he falters, his forehead on yours. “You can’t just say that…I can’t be risky with you.”

“Yes you can.” He watches you bite your lip and feels your hands push him off of you. Heeseung doesn’t put up a fight when he slips out of your warm hole and feels your hands grip his cock, desperately trying to tug the condom off of him.

Heeseung sees the pathetic rubber in your hands when you bring it up for him to see. It’s glistening and his mouth drools at the sight, lips parting enough as if he stares at it in disbelief. He groans lowly in your ear as he peppers a few wet kisses to your neck.

You spread your legs wider in the air and grip his cock in your head, pumping him a few times before letting his bare tip rest against your hole. His sharp intake is enough to make you bite your lip.

“Pussy’s so wet,” he says against your neck, pushing an inch inside of you. “God, I could come like this.”

“You can.”

“No, baby. Gonna fuck you the way you deserve before I come.”

With that sentiment, Heeseung pushes himself inside of you until he’s fully sheathed within your walls. He relishes the way you gasp at the sudden movement and he uses this angle to his advantage, positioning his ear next to your mouth to hear your delicious sounds.

He moves his hips at such a pace that it makes you feel like your body’s bouncing on top of the soft mattress below you. Heeseung presses his chest against yours to kiss you like his life depends on it, tongue invading the privacy of your mouth but you couldn’t care less where his mouth goes. He can feel your nipples on his skin and groans into your mouth when you clench at a particularly hard thrust.

“S-So good,” you stutter against his mouth with a breathy moan. Heeseung feels your arm around his shoulders, scratching at his back. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Mhm,” he coaxed. “Such a good baby. You look so pretty underneath me.”

With a new sense of purpose, Heeseung lifts himself to push himself into you at a deeper angle. He forces his hips into you harder, your hands coming to your chest to cup your tits to give you something to hold in the meantime.

“That’s right, beautiful. Squeeze your tits for me.”

You do, pinching and twisting your nipples until you hear Heeseung moan above you. It sounds nearly animalistic, the way his throat emits a groan that sounds so primal. He sees the dirty smile you paint your mouth with and leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead before his hand comes to your cheeks, squeezing them between my fingers.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” Heeseung asks, hips rolling against your own pelvis. When you nod, he gives you a nasty smile of his own and gives you a few harsh thrusts for good measure before pulling himself off of your chest with his cock still inside of you.

Heeseung sits on his knees and pulls out just far enough where his hot tip remains buried inside of you, relishing in the panty breaths you emit as he watches your chest rise and fall. You look so beautiful to him with your hair messed up against the pillow beneath you and with a few faint hickeys on your chest and neck. Heeseung thinks that all of his wildest dreams could never compare to how gorgeous you look when you’re positioned directly where he wants you.

You don’t complain when he pulls out to rest his cock on your wet, bare pussy. You wince at the loss and let him slide himself up and down, biting your lip when he grazes your swollen clit over and over again.

The man above you lifts your right leg so that he can grip you tighter. You relinquish any control left in your body as Heeseung curses and kisses the side of your ankle. He dips the head of his cock inside and thrusts shallowly as if to tease, but you know he’s exploring all the way his cock looks like against your own body.

It feels euphoric. The whole affair is dirty, but it’s the kind of dirty that makes you want to do it again. It’s the kind of dirty that makes this night an event you’ll want to remember for the rest of your night because Heeseung had poured his entire heart and soul for you to take.

For Heeseung, this pleasure is less about knowing you have him permission to put himself inside you. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and your body; it’s something Heeseung has always admired about you as a person. Growing up with your insecurities of relationships and dating might’ve made you feel like a late bloomer; to Heeseung, your tendency to keep your head straight has always been a testament to how knowledgeable you are about yourself and about others. You save yourself for people who are worthy of you, and god, does he want to be worthy of you.

“I love you,” Heeseung whispers from above you. His eyes are closed and he pays no mind to the feeling your pussy gives him. Flashes of your memories stitch together like a film reel with your laughter as the soundtrack. He doesn’t think he wants to hear anything else for the rest of his life.

Just for good measure, he whispers it again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

Heeseung opens his eyes to see your tender ones, cheeks flushed from the sudden compliment. He always liked that he knew how to get you to blush when no one else couldn’t. This time, a sense of pride blooms in his chest.

“I’ll never let you down,” he confesses. “And if I do, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“I know, baby.” Heeseung’s hand cups your cheek and caresses it. “I trust you.”

That’s enough for him to release your leg from his grip and pound himself into you like his life depends on bringing you to peak happiness.

Heeseung’s palms are planted firmly on either side of your body as his hips roll gracefully against yours, the hot, wet mess between the two of you splashing on both of your thighs. He watches your eyes close shut and as your back arches to relieve some of the pressure, feeling somewhat proud of himself when he watches as your hands grab at the sheets for stability.

There’s nothing that compares to watching you orgasm. Your eyebrows knit as if you’re concentrating while your mouth stands slightly ajar at the euphoric feeling of that single knot that’s threatening to come undone until it does. All of the girls he’s deluded into thinking he liked could never compare to the looks and sounds you’re making.

“That’s it,” he coaxes softly. “Cream my cock, baby. That’s a good girl.”

Heeseung feels you push and clench around him, gushing until there’s nowhere left for your come to go. He peeks down at where the two of you meet and groans when he sees his cock becoming painted in a sheer layer of white. It edges him on and the moment he locks his eyes with yours, his hips begin to stutter and he spills all he has to offer inside of you.

He comes with short breaths as if he can’t believe you’ve allowed him to do so. Your hips move up and down as if to milk him for all he’s worth while Heeseung’s trying his best to balance his body on top of yours, grateful that some of his gym workouts prevent him from completely collapsing on top of you to.

His come seeps from your bodies and he pulls out, a few droplets splattering on your pussy lips. He nudges the tip against it, smearing his paint across your canvas and marveling at the sight.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, eyes locked in at his handy work.

“I’ve never let anyone come inside of me,” you say with a fond expression. Your arm comes to brush Heeseung’s hair from his face before cradling his cheek when he looks at you in surprise.

“Really?”

You nod, biting your cheek. “Well, I always knew you were it for me. I didn’t want anyone else tainting what’s yours.”

“Mine?” he asks, catching his breath. “You mean it? You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.”

“All mine,” he mutters to himself in disbelief.

You still feel his cock working itself against you. He’s still hard, a wonder after your hours locked away in your hotel room. It makes you laugh.

“No one has ever compared to you either,” Heeseung says. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he continues toying with your pussy. “Even when I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t like you.”

You laugh. “Well that’s good to hear. I realized all the guys I went after while I was abroad either looked like you or reminded me of you.”

“I can confidently and stupidly say the same.”

Your laughs echo through the room. Heeseung pulls your body upright, not caring that your mixed come is leaking on his cock and his bare lap. He kisses you with tender care, lips moving at a slow pace while his hands roam over the expanse of your back while your hands are on his broad shoulders. Heeseung could live like this everyday if you’d let him.

You smile midway through when you feel his fully hardened cock against you. Heeseung apologizes quietly against your lips but feels you shake your head, pulling back to push him against the headboard until he’s comfortably seated.

He looks at your pussy when you hover above him, the white cream still sticking to you as you grip his cock. Heeseung can’t believe his eyes when he understands what you’re about to do. Before he can even think, you align yourself with his cock and sink until you’re stuffed with him.

“Shit,” he curses through his teeth.

“What good is coming inside of me if you don’t do it again and again, Hee?”

“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You don’t move just yet, opting to press small kisses to Heeseung’s face. You kiss his forehead, both temples, his nose, both eyelids, and the apples of his cheeks before placing a kiss to his lips.

“Before we leave, I want you to fuck me against that window,” you say, turning your head to the window that glimpses the city below.

“But people can see,” is Heeseung’s first comment.

“So?”

He chokes and when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you can’t help but laugh at him.

“I’ve heard talk about your escapades, Lee. Why so shy with me?”

He smacks your asscheek. “Naughty girl. Didn’t know you were nasty like that.” Heeseung gives you that kind of teasing smile that has you folding for him all over again. “Alright then, humor me. What else do you want to do before we leave?”

“I’d love to give you a blowjob while we shower, too.”

“That can certainly be arranged. Anything else?”

You look around the room. “I kind of want to see you eat me out while I sit on the desk chair. Makes me think you’re some kind of secretary who’s desperate for my pussy.”

“I am desperate for your pussy,” Heeseung reminds you. “What if I’m the stone cold CEO and you’re the cute secretary whose ass I dream about?”

You seat his chest. “This is my fantasy. You can have yours when we get home.”

Heeseung raises his eyebrow. “Mm, you sure?”

“Positively,” you nod. Heeseung’s hands travel from your ass to your hips and guides you up and down his cock, letting you set the pace after the brutal first round from a few minutes prior.

“Gonna fuck you in and on my car, since you like being watched so much,” Heeseung teases. His words seem to make your pussy clench and hips move faster. He forgoes any shyness when speaking about his fantasies and spills his every thought.

“I always thought you looked so cute in your old school uniform. I’ve always wanted to take you in that skirt they gave you.”

“I’ll buy one of those sexy schoolgirl costumes and surprise you for your birthday,” you say, locking your eyes with him. “Oh, professor! Is there anything I can do to raise my grade?”

Heeseung laughs at your antics, but the images of you in the costume aforementioned makes his grip on your body tighter.

“I selfishly want to watch you suck me off while I play with the guys.” He says it in a way that makes him avert his gaze and you can see a faint blush on his face. “I-I saw this video on Twitter. It looks hot.”

“I can do that for you.” You kiss both of his burning cheeks.

“But mostly, I just want you to sit on my face. Mad at me? Sit on my face. Sad? Sit on my face. Happy to see me? Sit on my face.”

“Simp,” you grunt, thighs burning from pushing yourself on and off of Heeseung’s cock.

“And proud.” He smacks both ass cheeks again. “Now what do you say, baby? If you ride me until you come, you can blow me in the bathroom before I fuck you in front of the entirety of Paris. Can you do that for me?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The next morning, you meet Heeseung and the rest of the guys in the lobby while Jay checks out on behalf of all of you. Jake’s the first to see you coming.

“You’re glowing and I don’t know if I like that.” He raises his eyebrow at Heeseung, who has pulled you into him by your waist.

“At least some of us are getting laid,” you retort. “I don’t recall seeing anyone do the walk of shame even though you had the room to yourself.”

Riki and Sunoo don’t try to contain their laughter as Jake’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. He rolls his eyes when you look at him, but shakes his head and punches your arm with your first.

“Nah, I’m really glad you two got that out of your system and worked it out.”

“You guys had major sexual tension,” Sunoo comments.

“Thank God Y/N’s room was at the end of the hall,” says Sunghoon. “I don’t know how their neighbors felt but I can sleep peacefully knowing I didn’t have to hear all of that.”

“Okay, enough,” Heeseung laughs. “We get it, we had a lot of sexual tension and now we’re fine.”

“So you guys are boyfriend-girlfriend?” Jungwon asks.

“Y/N is my girlfriend and I am her boyfriend.”

“I will key his car if he hurts you again,” Riki tells you, looking at Heeseung after he’s finished speaking. You detach yourself from his waist and bring your arms around Riki to give him a squeeze.

“Thanks, Riki.”

“Okay, we should call the cabs right now so we can get to the airport early,” Jay says from behind you.

“Jay is such a dad,” Jungwon whispers.

He pays no mind to Jungwon’s words, instead focusing on the way Heeseung pulls you into his chest. It warms his heart in ways he can’t explain.

“Congratulations, you two. Let’s go home.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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rileyslibrary · 10 months

Text

It’s lunchtime at the military base, and you can’t decide what to eat. Ghost is getting hangry.

———————————————————————

“It’s a simple question,” he says. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“Are you hungry?” He asks and lifts his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

“What exactly are you hungry for?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He drops his arms to his sides and sits at the corner of his desk. He touches the back of his neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other.

“Every fucking day, you do this to me,” he murmurs. “If you don’t decide this time, I’ll go eat alone.”

“Oh! Is that so?” You squint and hunch forward at your desk.

“Yes!” He yells as he stands up and walks towards you. “Yes, I will. In fact, I would love to.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and your jaw drops. How dare he? You’d been teammates for years, sticking with him through thick and thin, never betraying him once. But now he...

“...Would love to?!”

“That’s right!” He snaps and slams his hands against your desk. “So, for the last time: What. Will. It. Be?”

You lean back in your chair and bite your pen while considering your options. Ghost’s gaze darts from you to the pen, then back. He groans and grabs the pen from your hand, tossing it to the side.

“Pens are off the menu today,” he declares, snapping his fingers, “I need an answer. Now.”

Dumfounded, you stare at the pen on the floor. If someone else had done this to you, you would have slapped them in the face. Worse, if he had watched anyone else treat you that way, he would have ripped their limbs off their body.

But he’s hangry. As insignificant as this conversation appears, he doesn’t handle his hunger with the same poise he handles other, more complex situations. Not only that, but your indecisiveness doesn’t help, either. You need to make a decision quickly, so you sit up straight and place your hands on the table.

“What are my options again?” you ask.

“Pizza or burger.” He replies sternly.

“I don’t want piz—”

“Burger it is, then,” he says with a nod. He knocks his knuckles twice on the desk and strides towards the office door.

“W-wait, Ghost, wait!”

He sighs and leans against the door, his hand on the handle.

“I don’t like the base’s burgers.” You mumble.

“Nobody likes the base’s burgers!” he yells. “But we still eat them!”

“I was wondering,” you say and lower your voice, “if there is another choice?”

He’s softly bashing his head against the door, and you try to persuade him that there should be a third option—a vegetarian meal, perhaps. In response, he begins making whimpering noises. He’s the one getting on your nerves now.

“You know what?” you snap, “I’ll go check by myself.”

He extends a hand in your direction and shows you his palm.

“No, no, no, no!” he cries. “You join the others in the queue, and the entire base will starve until you decide!”

You scoff at his sarcasm, and he opens the door.

“Listen,” he says, “I’ll go check and call you, okay?”

“LIEUTENANT!” you shout, but he slams the door behind him. You peek over at his desk. “You forgot your phone...” you murmur to yourself.

The lieutenant was a very cold man when you first met him. His responses were limited to yeses and nos with the occasional shrug, and he never joined you in everyday job activities, especially at lunchtime. You’d always eat alone in the mess hall, and if your breaks coincided with that of Gaz or Soap’s, you’d sit with them and eat lunch together. Ghost would normally sit in the office or hide in a corner around the base and eat since he didn’t want anyone to see him without his mask. But slowly, he came to trust you all with his face, and you’d eat together, locked in your office.

You look at the time. Given his hunger when he left, he should have returned five minutes ago. What if he gave up on you and is already eating with the rest? Sure, your indecisiveness annoys him, especially since he has to deal with it daily, but he’d never let you eat alone, right? On the other hand... he may be trying to teach you a lesson.

You take another glance at the time. This doesn’t feel right. You start cleaning up your desk to head for the kitchen, but someone knocks on the door.

“It’s open,” you announce, “come on in!”

“I’ve got my hands full.” You hear Ghost reply.

You walk up to the door and swing it open. Ghost stands there with a serving trolley full of dishes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs while he pushes the trolley inside the office.

“You forgot your phone!” you inform him.

“I didn’t forget it,” he says as he stops the trolley in front of your desk. “I’d rather put my bare hand in a fire and let it simmer than add a third option to your dilemma and let you decide while there’s a queue of starving soldiers behind me.”

He removes the plates from the trolley and arranges them on your desk. “Here’s the fucking pizza, the fucking shitburger, and the tofu version of the shitburger.”

He places another plate with five pizza slices on his desk. He removes his mask and immediately slaps a piece in his mouth.

“That’s a lot of food, Lt.,” you whisper, scanning the plates before you.

He turns his head towards you and keeps chewing. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “better have all the options in front of you than squeeze any reserve of patience I have left.”

You take a slice of pizza from your tray and bite into it.

He stares at you, raises his plate to the sky, and rambles about how “you didn’t want pizza before.” You clarify that, while you still don’t want pizza, it appears to be the best option among the three.

“However,” you continue, “I would murder for a good burger.”

He swallows and takes a second pizza slice from his plate.

“I know a place,” he explains. “We can go tonight.”

“Lieutenant, you smooth operator!” you tease, “like on a date?”

He nods and takes another mouthful. He doesn’t even bother looking at you. He’s too preoccupied with nourishing his massive body to worry about your mocking.

“What kind of a place is it?” You ask.

“It’s a shithole,” he says, “but it does the best burgers you’ve ever had.”

“So, what should I wear?”

He stops eating and aggressively shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “I won’t get involved in your woes again—I’ll give you the address, and you’ll be there at 8 p.m.”

“Are you going to email me the menu so I can decide what to eat ahead of time?”

He swallows and looks at you. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, taking another bite.

“Why?”

“Because there’s no menu at my place.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #simon ghost riley #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #cod mwii #ghost cod mwii #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley x gn!reader

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aajjks · 4 months

Text

eyes on me (m)

synopsis. look at him, only him, especially when he’s fucking you dumb.

warnings. êxplïcït sěx, döm!töjï, fèm!réàdèr, däddy kïnk, MÄTŪRE THÊMÊS, cússïng, prâïsê kïnk, röügh s-x, möänïng, gröǎnïng, ünprötêctêd s-x, bïtïng, yändêrê töjï, [wräp ït bêförě yöu täp ït], b-lly bǔlgè.

header art by @jj59u on twt. It’s not mine.

note. happy new year 🫶🏻💌✨ please re-blog as much as you can and please share feedback ENJOY!

Oh you look so erotic like this.

You’re both so sweaty, you’re crying, he’s smirking, going so fast, hammering into your heat, Toji can’t stop looking at you at all.

You’re so shy despite literally drooling in his cock but you’re just so adorable- hiding your face away in his neck, whimpering like a kitten in the cold while he’s buried deep inside you.

Your nails are digging so deep into his naked back, your breathy moans are like music to him, and he’s already about to cum as he feels your walls clench tighter around him.

“Gonna cum, my pretty slut?” He asks you so tenderly, pressing butterfly kisses into your messed up hair, Toji hisses a little when you dig your nails deeper but the pain only makes his dick harder.

So he doesn’t waste a second to pick up his already fast pace, he knows you’re about to cum because you always get so quite, too lost in the pleasure to respond or comprehend anything around you.

He is fucking you dumb on his cock.

And he’s doing exactly that right now too. “Come on pretty baby speak up.” Toji whispers in a sultry voice in your ear and he doesn’t miss the way goosebumps appear on your skin, and the sight makes him smile.

Because your shoulder and neck are filled with his bite marks, “yn..” he calls out your name once again, panting alot, he’s made sure to make you cum at least two times.

Because you are his princess, you may be a little bratty but he loves you so much, Tojis hips are grinding into the air and he’s got you safe in his arms, your cunt is so hot around him, he feels like he’ll burst, just then you finally lift your head up and that makes him so happy because he can see your pretty eyes.

Toji is kissing you up from the valley of your breasts, his lips all over them, you’re so soft and so pretty.

“w-wanna cum, daddy.” You whimper, and he coos, pulling you for a rough sloppy kiss, his teeth nibble on the meat of your lower lip.

He’s about to cum too.

“S-So fuckin pretty.” He groans, It’s his turn to bury his face into your shoulder, he’s enjoying the lewd sounds that’s echoing through out your large bedroom, he’s missed you so much.

His biceps flex as he’s fucking you like his life depends on it, maybe because he wants you to get so addicted to him.

“O-Oh daddy… feels so good- ah.” Youre hugging him tightly. Toji feels so calm when his body is into yours, it’s so intimate yet calming.

“You fuck me ‘so good.” Your praise actually has his head spinning so now he’s literally bullying his dick into your pussy, crying out curses and what not.

He loves you so much.

He knows he’s got a very filthy mouth but he knows you love it so much, because it’s not long before you’re literally creaming in his cock, crying with literal tears, moaning in pleasure.

Your shy self is long gone and you’re a loud moaning mess.

You sound like a slut- his favorite slut.

“Noooo baby come on- look into daddy’s eyes.” He is forcing your head up again before you can hide again and his large fingers hold your face up so you’re looking straight into his eyes.

Your eyes are the best thing about you.

He smirks when he spots your belly bulge, you take him so well every time.

Your body is made for him.

“Eyes on me so daddy c-can cum, baby.”

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soobnny · 4 months

Text

stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

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grumpypixistix · 5 months

Text

The lab assistant

Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Shy!Reader

Warnings- Face sitting, slight corruption kink, slightly perverted!Miguel (if you squint), co-workers being dickheads, semi-public sex (let me know if I missed anything! )

MINORS DNI 18+

You had been working at Alchemax for a few months now. A few of your colleagues were generous enough to introduce you to the workplace and the other workers, but there was one person you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.

Miguel O’Hara.

When you first introduced yourself to him, he had already taken a liking to you. Something about how shy yet sweet you were made his pulse quicken and his cheeks burn. The way you smiled at him as you tried to introduce yourself, nervous about your first day at Alchemax. But you quickly felt at home when Miguel began to bond with you by taking over your “tour” of the place, making great conversation. Soon enough, your shell had cracked and you started talking about your personal interests, how you got hired, etc.

About a week after that day, he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about you for some reason. He didn’t know what to make of it, thinking it wasn’t too serious.

But then you started appearing in his dreams.

Miguel would dream about leaving marks everywhere on your body to claim you as his, fucking every ounce of innocence out of you.

And when he would wake up in a cold sweat, his cock was nearly on the verge of exploding, precum dripping everywhere. He felt guilty about it afterwards, it was just wrong for him to think about his colleague like that.

But you plagued his mind consistently. The dreams slowly turned into daily thoughts that he finally caved into, fisting his cock at least four times a day to the thought of your body. But you had no clue what he was doing after he got off of work. You just assumed that he only saw you as a co-worker and nothing else, maybe even a good friend.

But God, were you so far off from the truth.

As you entered the building for another shift of the week, your boss had approached you with some new information.

“I’m really sorry this is a last minute notice, but I need you to stay a little later. I tried to get some other people to stay instead, but all of them couldn’t do it… but on the bright side, Miguel volunteered to stay, so you won’t be completely alone.”

Great, just what you needed. A longer shift after your horrible week.

Even though some of your colleagues were nice to you, there was a group that wasn’t as generous as them. Some of them claimed that you were too clumsy or stupid to be an assistant, others claimed you were like a lost dog or a prude. Whatever they said, you tried not to pay attention to it too much. But there were days where it would get to you, and this week happened to have a bunch of those days.

You just nodded at your boss and shot him the best smile you could muster up.

“Alright then, that shouldn’t be a problem, sir” You said in a friendly tone.

“At least Miguel will be here with me… maybe I can talk to him, get my stress out” You thought to yourself as you walked off to start your shift.

When you walked into the lab and took your coat off of the hanger, you could hear some voices from the other side of the room.

“Oh great, look who’s here.”

“God, I don’t even know why she’s still here. She should’ve been fired months ago, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”

“I’m surprised Miguel even hangs out with her, she’s such a prude.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen the look on her face yesterday. She practically bursted into tears when we called her useless.”

The other comments stung a little, but what got you the most was the part about Miguel. Sure, you had developed a small crush on him, but that had nothing to do with your guy’s friendship. The fact that the other colleagues had judged your bond just to get a laugh hurt you more than you felt it should’ve.

God forbid if they ever found out about your feelings for Miguel… you couldn’t help but become paranoid over the idea.

As you tried to ignore the group across the room and focus on your tasks, it seemed that one of them had read your mind and called you over.

Shit.

“Hey, newbie! Come over here real quick, we gotta ask you somethin“ One of your colleagues called out.

Your heart pounded hard inside your chest, quietly gulping before walking over to the group with a small sigh.

“What do you need?” You asked gently, silently praying it was something work-related and not just making fun of you again.

Some of the others chuckled and chattered a little bit before falling quiet.

“Sooo, you’re friends with Miguel, right?” The female colleague from before asked.

Your palms began to grow sweaty as sirens went off in your mind, biting your cheek before answering.

“Yeah, why?” You raised your brow at your co-worker.

Your co-worker slowly smiled. Oh no.

“Well, we were just thinking… with the way you act around him and all… you definitely have a thing for him, don’t you?”

Your whole chest sunk to your stomach, wishing this was just some horrible dream and that you would wake up soon. Trying to play it off, your eyes widened at the question and you shook your head vigorously.

“What?? No, he’s just my friend-“

“That wasn’t my question. I asked if you have a thing for him” She cuts off coldly.

Some of the others snickered quietly, making your throat close up as you tried to hold your emotions back. Your face contorted into confusion at the strange question, the others taking notice of it.

“Oh my god, she’s clueless” One of the colleagues muttered with a small chuckle.

Your co-worker lets out a small laugh as she noticed your face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

“Here, let me dumb it down for you: do you ever fantasize about having sex with Miguel?”

Your whole face flushed bright red as it clicked into your head, slowly shaking your head.

“N- No… that’s… that’s wrong” You stuttered, looking at your co-worker.

She stares at you with a raised brow, not believing you at all.

“Okay, sure… but you still like him, right? Being a prude and all, surely you at least have a crush on him.”

“Please, don’t call me that-“

“Or what? Huh? You gonna run off to your little boyfriend and cry in his arms? I’m sure he’ll baby you, he does every time he sees you” She hisses.

The feeling in your throat grew even stronger, your eyes slowly beginning to water. But you didn’t want to prove her theory, so you just stood there silently, not knowing what else to say. As the silence grew more, some of the colleagues just laughed.

“Wow… you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“Who’s stupid?” A voice emerges from the entrance of the room, making everyone fall silent.

It was Miguel, standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. The group of colleagues weren’t laughing or smiling anymore- instead, they actually looked nervous. The female coworker looked over at you for a quick moment before flashing a smile at Miguel.

“Oh, nothing! It was just something we were talking about from yesterday. Right, hon?” The co-worker said in an overly sweet tone, forcing herself to smile at you.

You froze, not wanting anymore conflict with the group, so you just went along with it. You quietly nodded your head and looked over at Miguel, giving your best smile.

“Mhm, it was just stuff from yesterday” You mustered up as your voice shook a little.

Miguel didn’t buy it at all, seeing how your eyes glistened, tears threatening to leave them at any second. He shot your co-worker a glare before looking back at you, a sigh leaving his lips.

“Ah, alright then… do you have the paperwork from last week? I just wanna make sure everything is right” Miguel spoke to you, his face softening a little.

You quickly nodded and walked away from the group to your clipboard that was in one of the desk drawers, skimming through the pile of papers to look for the documents. The group just watched as you eventually found the papers Miguel was referring to, handing them to him. He took out his glasses from his coat pocket and put them on, reading the sheet of paper. After a few moments of silence, Miguel took off his glasses and looked over at you, handing the paper back.

“This is perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paperwork better than this and I’ve worked here longer than anyone else has” Miguel praised, a gentle smile formed on his lips.

“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot to me” You hummed in appreciation, returning the smile.

The praise alone made you forget about the whole situation from earlier, but the smile comforted you even more. Your cheeks burned up as you felt your whole body tingle, a small smile creeping up your lips. The feeling Miguel made you have was insatiable, you just couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more of him, to have his lips on yours…

You almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Almost.

The sound of low muttering made your head turn towards the group, the co-worker giving you a dirty look before the group parted separate ways. You set the paper on the table and Miguel leans down to whisper in your ear.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

Your head spun when you felt his warm breath tickle your skin, almost not realizing what he just said. When you finally processed it, you looked at Miguel and nodded a little. For once, you were actually kind of glad your boss made you work later.

After hours of working and following Miguel around for assistance (as he asked for your presence), it was time for the others to go home. Usually, you would be getting off at this time, but since you had to stay later, that meant you would have to pick up dinner on your way back home. You didn’t really mind since it would save you time and energy to make food at home.

Plus you didn’t mind since it meant you could spend more time with Miguel.

Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but notice something was a little off with him. You assumed it was because of what happened earlier, because he seemed a little more tense than normal. But after everyone had left, he looked over at you, glad that the two of you were finally alone. You were finishing out today’s paperwork, slouching over the desk as you tried to fight off your tiredness. Miguel walked over to you and gently took the pen out of your hand, turning your chair around to face him.

“Everyone left, it’s just us. Now… about what happened earlier…” Miguel started, bending down to your height, “Tell me. What exactly did they say to you?”

Your face burned up a little as his face was inches away from yours, struggling to find your words. He just stared at you, waiting for an answer. But after a few moments of silence, his face softened and he let out a small breath, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. I just want to know what’s wrong… when I got here, you were on the verge of tears” Miguel spoke softly.

The feeling of his hand on your thigh made your chest flutter and your stomach turn, trying to keep your composure as much as you could. He was only just trying to comfort you… right?

“They… they were asking me questions…” You began, still debating whether or not you should leave out a few details.

Miguel hummed a little as he listened to you, his other hand now on your other thigh as he gently caressed your skin. Your stomach felt fuzzy and warm, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Questions about what? C’mon hermosa, you can tell me” He coos, tucking a small strand of hair out of your face.

You swallowed hard and bit your lip hard before answering hesitantly.

“They were… questions a- about you.”

Miguel stopped and looked at you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“What did they ask about me?”

You stared up at him for a few moments and finally spoke again.

“They… they were asking if… I liked you” You whispered quietly.

That caught Miguel off-guard.

His eyes widened at you just the slightest, analyzing your face to see if you were messing with him. Once he noticed your flushed cheeks and nervous look, he knew you weren’t joking. After a moment of tense silence, Miguel licked his lips and started talking.

“…Do you?” Miguel asked lowly, looking down at your lips and up at your eyes.

His question had you in a slight panic, weighing out the odds. If you told him how you felt, it would either change your entire friendship or you would be stuck working alone for the rest of your time at Alchemax. Either one of those options sounded horrible, but if you didn’t tell him now, you were certain the group from earlier would do it eventually. Your heart raced so quick, Miguel swore he could hear it clearly. A shaky sigh left your lips and you nodded at him.

“Yeah… I do” You mumbled, scared that he would react negatively.

But instead, Miguel just chuckled softly and smiled at you, his hand cupping your face and his thumb dragging down your bottom lip.

“That’s good to know… because I’ve also liked you for quite some time now” Miguel responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Your eyes widened at his response, a look of hope on your face as you slowly smiled.

“Really?” You squeaked.

Miguel chuckled again and nodded at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“Of course I do… how could I not?” He whispered, his face slowly inching closer to yours.

Your face flushed all the way to your ears, finding yourself drifting towards him. Closer, closer and closer until you finally feel his warm lips on yours. It felt like hundreds of fireworks were exploding in your chest, slowly wrapping your arms around him and holding Miguel close. You were almost afraid to let go, and he seemed to notice this. Miguel gently moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and into his arms. The more you kissed him, the harder it became for Miguel to keep his composure. He wanted to take things slow with you, not wanting to scare you away. But God, was it a challenge for him to just keep his hands on your hips.

After a little bit, Miguel finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, already panting softly. He looked at you and let out a groan that awoken something inside you.

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” Miguel huffed quietly, his thumbs barely peeking up the hem of your shirt and rubbing the bare skin of your stomach.

You just stared up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss you two had shared moments ago. You shook your head with a quiet “No…”

Miguel sighed and looked down at your chest, his cock twitching inside his pants. He didn’t even bother hiding his erection anymore, moving your hips against his to show you the effect you had on him. You let out a gasp at the strange feeling, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your whole body felt hot now.

“I can’t help it… you’re just so fucking sweet… you haunt me in my dreams, I swear to god. Every night when I go to bed, all I can dream about is you and that fucking body of yours… all just for me.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say those kind of things to you. Normally, you’d be freaked out or even scared… but something about the way Miguel looked at you made you feel different. You weren’t sure if it was from the kiss earlier or your feelings for him in general, but you felt… ready in a sense. When Miguel saw your eyes widen at his words, his face dropped as he suddenly became worried.

“…Was that too much?” Miguel whispered gently, his brows furrowed together.

You slowly shook your head and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“No… I- If anything, I… I sometimes have dreams about you, too…” You admitted with a quiet tone, looking away.

Miguel nearly went off the rails when you told him that, his pants feeling tighter around his dick. He moved you closer to him once more, moving your hair to the side.

“Mierda… Tell me about your dreams…” Miguel mumbled against you, pressing slow kisses to your cheek and down your neck.

Your thighs pressed together as a wet patch formed in your panties, your stomach flipping as you felt his lips against your skin. A shaky breath left your mouth, nearly moaning from how good it felt to have Miguel treat you this way. It was definitely wrong, but it felt so right. If anyone else had stayed with you two during the late shift and caught you like this, you’d be fired on the spot.

But nobody else was here. Just the two of you.

“S- sometimes I dream about you k- kissing me like this… and even…” Your voice faltered as you quickly grew shy again, biting down on your lip.

Miguel kissed and nipped at your neck, leaving little marks on your skin.

“Go on, Cariño…”

You swallowed before speaking again, letting a soft moan slip out.

“Even… touching me…”

Miguel moaned at that, causing your head to spin even more. You felt so hot that you swore you were going to pass out, but luckily you didn’t. He moved up to place a firm kiss on your lips, pulling away to look at you.

“Have I done anything more than just touching you in your dreams?” Miguel muttered lowly, his lips wet and raw.

You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head with a small breath.

“I always woke up before… before I could find out…” You answered Miguel.

Miguel frowned at that, looking at the marks on your neck before making direct eye contact with you. He sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Well… do you wanna know what I’d do to you in my dreams?”

You nodded at him, genuinely curious as to what he dreamed about when you weren’t there with him. His forehead pressed against yours as his lips were centimeters away from your lips, his hands trailing from your waist down to your ass.

“In my dreams… I’d have you sit on my face and I’d make you cum over and over again until your legs give out..”

The image Miguel just gave you nearly made you collapse. You felt weak to your knees, a gentle whine escaping your lips. Miguel squeezed your thighs and kissed you once more, his hands moving up to the hem of your shirt. He parted from you to look at your face.

“Can I?” Miguel asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this before he went any farther.

You looked at him for a few moments before making a decision, whispering out a small “Yes” to him. He took that as his green light and gently took your coat off first before moving to your shirt. He rolled the material up your body and over your head, helping you take your shirt off. Once you were topless in front of him, Miguel’s eyes scanned your chest. He muttered something quietly in Spanish before letting out a breathy sigh.

“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?” He coos softly.

Your face burned up as you felt vulnerable in front of him, but when Miguel spoke, you slowly started to become more comfortable. A bashful expression appeared on your face as you just shook your head.

“Not entirely…”

Miguel hummed gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reaching towards your back to unclip your bra.

“Well… I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… every time I see you, it’s always hard for me to look away. Shit, baby, it’s even hard for me to look away in my dreams. I wouldn’t give it up for any other view… you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart” Miguel spoke in between kisses to your face and lips while gently kneading your exposed breasts.

You couldn’t help but moan at his words mixed with his touch, kissing him back each time he placed a kiss onto your soft lips. Miguel couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds you made, craving even more from you. His hands moved down to unbutton your pants, taking off every last piece of clothing on your body before leaving you completely naked in front of him. Miguel’s breath hitched as he looked at your body.

It was even better than he imagined in his dreams.

Miguel placed small kisses down your neck and collarbone until he made it to your breasts, gently kissing and sucking one while his hand toyed with the other. The sensation made you moan a little louder, biting down on your lip to contain yourself. Miguel seemed to take notice of this and removed his mouth from your nipple.

“You don’t have to be quiet, muñeca… it’s just us. I wanna hear your pretty moans.. god, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”

As soon as he said that, his hands gripped your hips and he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he placed you on top of him as he laid down on the large table in the room. You could feel the tent in his pants right against your wet pussy, a low whine leaving your lips which caused Miguel to groan softly.

“Want you to sit on my face, querida… please…” Miguel begged softly, his hands still on your hips.

You let out a whimper at his request, reluctantly moving so your hips were directly above his face. You were hovering over him, not knowing what else to do. Miguel let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to wait any longer. He wanted to taste you… he had to taste you.

“You’re hovering, sweetheart. Lower your hips for me, ‘kay?” Miguel instructed, looking up at you from between your legs.

You looked down at him, slightly embarrassed from the position you were in. Regardless of how shy you became, you obeyed Miguel anyways, slowly lowering your hips a little.

“Is this g-“ Before you could even get your question out, Miguel’s mouth immediately attached to your clit.

You let out a loud gasp and moaned, Miguel’s tongue exploring your folds and licking up your juices. He let out a low growl that sent vibrations through your body, making you squirm and cry out.

“Joder, nena, sabes tan dulce… todo para mi~” Miguel moaned, his head moving up more to lick and suck on your clit again.

You whimpered as he sucked on your clit again, afraid that you would crush him if you moved your hips any lower. Miguel’s hands moved up to your ass and groped it tightly, his tongue poking your hole and sliding inside of you. The warm and wet feeling made your hands slam down on the table, trying not to drop your hips directly onto his face. Small pants left your mouth as his tongue fucked your hole and his nose brushed up against your sensitive clit, moaning as you kept your eyes shut tightly.

That’s when you felt Miguel’s hands grip your hips and his tongue slips out of your pussy, making you whine in response. You gasp as he pulls your hips down with such force, your eyes widening as you look down at him.

“Ay, Cariño, what did I tell you ‘bout the hovering? Stop hovering and sit on my face” Miguel scolded, spanking your ass as he goes back to licking and sucking your poor abused clit.

You cried out as you felt a new wave of pleasure form inside you, sobbing as he hit all of your spots with his mouth.

“Miguel~! Mig-“ You gasped, pulling his hair with one hand as the other stayed on the table for support.

But Miguel could care less if you suffocated him. Hell, he wanted you to. The sound of his name coming from your lips nearly made him cum in his pants right then and there. Every pretty noise that came out of your mouth was better than his dreams alone, not wanting you to stop. Miguel kissed and teased your clit more, savoring your taste as much as possible. His breath grew heavier and heavier as sweat trickled down his temples, burying his face in your pussy.

Miguel’s mouth left your clit with a small ‘pop’ as he re-entered his tongue inside your soaked hole, making you rut your hips against his face. The way his nose bumped your clit and his warm tongue stuffed inside you made your eyes roll back, your legs twitching already.

“God, don’t stop~ please don’t stop, Miggy~ feels s’good~” You begged pathetically, your shy demeanor now leaving your body.

Miguel moaned against you and spanked your ass hard once more, his fingers digging into your thighs. His own hips twitched against nothing as he listened to your pleads and moans, fucking you with his tongue relentlessly. With the way you begged so nicely for him to keep going, Miguel swore he could feel his precum seeping through his boxers and pants. How could he refuse you?

“Miguel-! I- I think I’m-“ You tried to warn him that you were close, your legs nearly giving out on you.

If it weren’t for Miguel’s large hands holding your hips up, you definitely would’ve collapsed on his face. But you were so desperate to cum, continuing to grind on his face as he licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He caught his breath and looked up at you for a moment, his eyes dark and full of arousal.

“Go ahead, princesa… cum for me” Miguel moaned, going back to sucking your clit.

With just those words alone, the coil inside your stomach broke. You cried out loudly as you came, chanting his name over and over again. Your legs shook and you nearly collapsed onto him, Miguel catching you just in time. He licked up every drop of your release, making sure to not let it go to waste. You whimpered as he continued to lick your sensitive pussy, becoming overstimulated from his tongue. Your hands pressed down onto the table to hold yourself up, catching your breath as you carefully crawled off of his face.

As you sat down on the table next to Miguel, he sat up straight and faced you, panting heavily. Your eyes widened as you saw his chin was soaked from your juices, a dark blush forming across your cheeks. Miguel noticed your face as he finally caught his breath, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“How do you feel?” Miguel asked, licking his lips and wiping his chin off with his coat sleeve.

A soft breath left your mouth as you looked at him, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “I feel… I feel like that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced..”

Miguel chuckled and leaned over to you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. You melted against him and returned the kiss, slowly pulling away to look at him.

“I’m glad I could make you feel like that… say, uh… our shift actually ended like… 10 minutes ago” Miguel spoke as he checked his watch.

Your eyes widened as you looked around for your discarded clothes, Miguel quickly grabbing them before you could get off of the table.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got it. Just sit for a little bit, catch your breath” He mumbled, putting your clothes back on for you.

Your chest fluttered as he did so, smiling at him in a loving way. Miguel noticed this and chuckled as he helped you put your panties back on.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing… I was just wondering.. do you wanna stay the night at my place?” You offered, moving your hips a little as Miguel clothed you.

Miguel grinned widely at the offer, placing a peck to your forehead and nodding.

“Of course, I’d like that… I’ll buy dinner for us on the way there. My treat for this” Miguel hummed, putting your shirt on and placing soft kisses to your knuckles.

Your smile widened as he said that, pulling him in for a kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back, his forehead pressed against yours as you two pulled away. He helped you off of the table and the both of you made your way out of the building, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb across your skin.

“Oh, by the way… I heard everything that happened with your co-workers. I was listening the whole time” Miguel admitted, looking over at you.

Your head whipped over to him, a surprised expression on your face. “You were-??”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I actually got promoted as a manager a few weeks ago, so…”

Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips. “Wait, so that means-“

“That means you won’t be having to deal with them for much longer. I know those assholes have been messing with you since you got here… plus, everything they said about you is wrong. You’re the best worker this place has to offer and those dickheads have been here longer than you have” Miguel responded to you, placing a kiss to your temple.

A grin formed on your lips as joy filled your chest, squeezing Miguel’s hand.

“Thank you, Miguel… that means everything to me.”

“Of course. I gotta make sure my girl is okay.”

You let out a laugh as he said that, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as you walked with him down the street.

“So, is that your way of saying I’m your girlfriend now?” You chuckled.

“Only if you want to be” Miguel answered with a smirk.

You gently smacked his shoulder with your other hand and scoffed playfully, earning a laugh from him.

“Of course I do, Miguel.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

#atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel x reader #atsv #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

Text

◜ mk1 men breaking the bed/headboard while fucking you ◞

▸ characters: bi-han, syzoth, liu kang, raiden, kuai liang, johnny cage, tomas◂ ▸wc: 4k+ [wow]

▸ tags¬es: REQUESTED by @luvv4lurd. drabble but long (like very long), fluff, nsfw, breaking, licking, ropes, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, humiliation, rudeness, rough, biting, power, begging, fingering, swearing, monster fucking (kind of), power play, pet names, calling god/goddess, possessiveness, protectiveness & more in the work, enjoy! [didn’t want to write this long & I am not sure whether @luvv4lurd wanted it to be this long but couldn’t hold myself, they’re so cute! hope all of you like it, have fun!]◂ ▸ m.

BI-HAN doesn’t care about hurting you that much, yet, he gives you a safe word to make him stop when it is needed. clearly, he wants to fuck you well enough so that he can show you only he can fuck you like this. this goal of his brings him to an edge that he put your body down on the bed, ass up, cock thrusting deep inside your walls as your body jolts forward and backward in sync with his cock’s rhythm going in and out of your pussy full of cum - since you have cum like two times already.

he’s a bit rougher than he is usually because he heard a few other lin kuei’s members talking about you - how they are mesmerized by your presence whenever you come into view, however, they complained about how they can’t talk to you because you’re always with the grandmaster, sub-zero.

that moment, he decided to fuck you hard enough to make you have difficulties with walking, making everyone realize who fucked you - their grandmaster - they will know who you belong to and that was why he is rough right now.

you don’t complain though, well, until he makes you scream his title - “my - ohh - my grandmaster!” he loses his mind, releasing his power; hands get colder as ice appears on them from fingertips to the arm, and since his hands on the headboard, to hold it tight and fucking you with a great strength, it covers with ice, making the surface so easy to break into pieces and this is exactly what happens.

the headboard breaks into countless pieces, the room’s temperature going down in an instant, your eyes widen but bi han gains his mind’s control, hands turning to normal as they touch your waist, sending a chill down your spine with their coldness - bi han begins to fuck you harder as if it’s even possible, blaming you.

“see what you made me do whore? it’s only because of you! have to get a new one now, but you should pay for what you have caused pretty slut and you will pay by giving this beautiful wet pussy to me - to the rightful owner of it. will fuck you until you can’t walk for the next week, my dumb whore.”

SYZOTH tries his best not to use any of his strengths during the make-up sessions you share - getting intimate yet shy while doing it. he wants you to stay healthy even after the sex, only maybe some of the marks on your body that he likes to leave. however, sometimes you become a brat, acting naughty, trying to play with his nerves of pleasure and instincts enough to make him go rougher, and since he doesn’t want to hurt you, his hands find the sides of the bed while he’s fucking you with the position of missionary, green innocent eyes focusing on your face that full of cries, parted lips, half-closed eyes watching him with such delight he wants to prove himself further – wants to fuck you so good that your body cannot forget about it in the following days until the day he fucks you again.

and he loses himself when a hand grips him by the hair, pulling his face down at your level, ear to ear, you say in a whisper which is followed by a little moan afterward, “cmon pretty boy, I know you can do better than – ohhh – this!”

who is to decline your offer? who he is to hold himself still instead of fucking you harder – better?

syzoth whimpers at your words, he lets your legs hug his bare back, hands wrapping his neck as his hands begin to hold the surface of the bedsides tighter to find a balance after shoving his dick into your wider pussy rapidly than before, roughness and lust dripping from heart to body within actions.

“oohhh –“ he moans in sync with you, “tell me how good it is my love, please, please –“ he stops himself from crying by biting down your shoulder a few times, listening to your cries mixed with both pain and pleasure with full attention, and when you praise him, his edge comes, making him lose himself, and letting his nature form in some parts of his body; a tail appears on his back, it wags on its own – eyes turn darker green – and hands are covered with the skin of his true form, all green until it reaches to the arms.

all feelings double when his strength rises, weight becomes hard to endure, dick bigger – definitely rougher, going in and out of your aching yet wet pussy, and you reach climax at the same time – the exact time when a few crack sounds are heard, causing you to look into each other’s face – looking both excited and peaceful because of reaching the climax and shocked when the bed break into two, its middle swallows your bodies as syzoth hold you from the back from an instant, turn you around so that his back meets with the rigid surface of the floor under the bed.

hands on your back, hugging, turning into human form, and tail disappears as he looks at you with innocent and shy eyes as if you’re not lying down on the ground, inside a broken bed, cums still dripping.

“I’m so sorry y/n – but it – it was too much for me to handle. my love, how can I make you forgive me? I will do anything for you – just say it and I will show how sorry I am but please don’t judge me. I can’t hold my thoughts together when I have your pretty pussy.”

LIU KANG can be the steadiest person – or a god but you don’t know any other god aside from him, but not in bed, no, never. he is that steady, straightforward, gentle, cute, and all these kinds of things under the lights of daylight, however, when it turns into a dark sky when you visit him in his room – or you in yours, exchanging a few words, questions only to begin to fuck after the formality.

it’s not that he uses you as his fucktoy – yes, it feels like it because it turns you on, but no, he’s in love with you – so deeply that he loses his mind whenever he sees you, and when it comes to getting intimate, oh, he forgets about the timeline he has created entirely, focusing on you – your pretty face he likes to watch, your magnificent body he finds as the most beautiful thing on all realms, your voice that comes into his ears as prays while you moan his name and even his title whenever you feel like it, and oh, your delicious pussy that neither his fingers, his tongue nor his dick will ever get bored of – it will be such disrespectful thing to be bored when you open your legs wider to him, showing your pink pussy that begs for his caring and affection – that he gives you what you want right away.

he’s a god, yes, but he can kneel in front of you if it is needed – to eat you out, or even to beg you.

on a night, when he lets you do whatever you wanna do with him, you chose to ride him in order to show him how you love his dick so much as he watched you from below, making you feel so powerful because of having the god of fire, liu kang, under you – moaning your name, eyes blurry, a bit of fire travels on his shoulder since he hasn’t logical side in the brain, no longer when you ride him so good – it feels as if you’re his goddess and you can’t deny that it doesn’t turn you on just by thinking about it.

smiling widely, you let yourself get the pleasure at the highest level, so, you throw your head back, and hands travel on your body from hair to shoulders, from breasts to abdomen, from there to your ass – literally exhibiting your own body to liu kang while bouncing on his lap – pussy clench around his length whenever you sit down only to rise up and repeat the action rapidly, riding him, fucking him.

and liu kang’s last logical side screams him not to hold you – because if he does it, he is sure he will break you into pieces. he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially when he witnesses the sight in front of him – breathtaking, making him lose the balance of his strength. instead of holding you, he grips the headboard behind him as he sits there, having you on his lap – watching you riding him beautifully.

then, you look down, and chuckle, “let your goddess take you to the stars, pretty boy.”

he never had this kind of situation with any other person, so, when you reflect his own words with yours – ‘let your god take you to the stars, pretty girl’ – he really sees stars, hands get tighter, and he breaks the bed with his power of strength and fire, moaning your name loudly, “aggh – y/n!” as he cums hard into your warm walls.

the moment he opens his eyes once again, he sees your smirking face first, one of your soft fingers travels on his cheek as you kneel down closer, “oh, couldn’t pretty boy resist it and cum in an instant?” you chuckle, mocking him, “where is the god of fire, huh? maybe, you should be the one who calls me goddess instead.”

he doesn’t waste a moment, holding you from the waist, he closes the gap between your bodies – nose to nose, white eyes devour yours only by looking at them intensely, and he smirks – darker than yours, radiating fire.

“darlin’, you are already my goddess but you need to learn who you belong to. don’t worry, the lesson you will have now will be enough to make you remember it to no longer forget about it. I will teach you personally while fucking you on this broken bed.”

RAIDEN is a stranger to his own power that has been given by liu kang to fight with it to protect the earthrealm, however, now it sticks with raiden every second of the day and night, and he can’t leave it even while fucking you.

he says he should get used to it in every situation. he’s shy about it while saying it but you know that there are other reasons behind the desire to bring his lightning power into the bed ‘cause, that way, he can send a tickling jolt to your body – even to your pussy, making your pleasure rise up, wanting him to continue what he’s doing.

he knows you like it too – how he can’t anyway? you love seeing his eyes turning to light blue from time to time, love to let it flow through your skin, sending chills down your spine, getting you closer to the edge.

raiden discovers your kink contains electricity accidentally, and in a weird situation when he forgets to leave his amulet bonded to his hand while getting intimate with you.

he doesn’t realize holding it even when he goes hotter as he lowers down on your body, kissing every inch of you, reaching your exposed pussy soaking wet to the ground because of his gentle, slow yet effective approaches. he’s so gentle with you that he literally begs to taste your cum in his mouth.

letting him, you lean onto the headboard, wide open legs meeting with his soft-looking eyes, making him whimper at the sight.

you look so pretty that even after having your cum in his mouth, he can’t stop - he says he wants to thank you for letting him eat you out passionately by hovering over you, hands find the headboard behind you as he thrusts into your wet and fleshy pussy again and again with a pace driving you mad.

you scream how good he’s making you - to make it double, he uses some electricity that flows through your body without even noticing it, and the sudden sensation makes you clench around his length, swallowing it entirely, giving raiden a heart attack because of the pleasure he has never felt before, and it ends up with him using his strong muscles to hold himself in balance by gripping the headboard harder, making it crumble and break into pieces in a second.

to protect you from the falling pieces of it, he lowers down, covering your body within his but it makes all things go worse – or better as you say afterward; his cock reaches the end of your pussy, and it even becomes visible on your abdomen – and the scream, moans you made causing raiden to lose his mind – he begins to thrust into you, balls hitting your ass, forehead touches yours, eyes turn into light blue when you look at them.

“you have no idea how beautiful you look right now, my love. so – so beautiful. I am so sorry to break the bed but I can’t stop now. how can I? your pussy begs for me to continue fucking you. ohhh – it feels so good. I am offering myself to you as a forgiveness gift.”

KUAI LIANG is a man who lives to give you, his beloved lover, what you deserve – the whole world, as he believes. loving doing the things you want, he’s no longer a gentleman in bed as the bond you share grows more powerful as well as the intimate sessions you have an increase in passion and trust.

he becomes rougher when you need him to be. being such a needy lover for him, you choose to trust him enough to let him have you in ways you can never imagine on your own because he looks fragile from the outside – he still is but not when you get into the bed after a long and exhausted day, ready to find your peaceful hours, inside each other’s arms which turns into a hot moment since you can never resist the urge of getting closer – he turns into a beast, you can see the sparkes he has inside his eyes – reflection of the fire he has within his soul and body.

on one of the nights you become lustful for each other, kuai has you on your knees, ass up in the air, and your second cum’s juice flows through his thick warm cock onto your inner thighs and ass, however, he can’t focus on the mess you’re making because all his attention is on your wrists which are roped with his kusarigama – it has no kama yet the coldness of metal chains around your wrists are enough to send you chills since kuai’s entire body radiates warmness.

holding your wrist, he increases the pleasure you are getting from the way he fucks you into the mattress, moans coming from you mixing with the swears and praises he says between his rapid breaths, dripping sweats and moans – only you can make him so weak, so fragile yet powerful at the same time – it causes him to try to prove himself to you in a greater way that you can never forget about it, that your body screams his markings.

the sound that is created by the lewd sounds of his thrusts hitting your soaked clit build twist feelings inside your stomach that is pushed down onto the bed as his left hand holds the wrists that have chained while the free one is put on the headboard’s edge, holding it tightly because he needs to find a source of stability to stay still but it doesn’t work – not when he finds this new angle amusing, begins to shove his dick into your warm walls faster, then, when his climax hit, the solid tool cracks – collapsing.

when he comes to his senses, getting off his high, he realizes what he has made.

he looks a bit guilty, eyes finding yours, his face has an expression of a man who seeks forgiveness yet he seems to enjoy it, and he smiles when you chuckle, joking about how he can easily turn into a madman only because of having you like this.

as he agrees, he caresses your hair, hands playing with the chain to open it. he turns your body over, hugging you from the shoulder, he still doesn’t take his dick off of you.

“’m so sorry honey, didn’t mean to break the bed but weren’t it the head of the bed, I would break you – was so good – you feel so good. fixing it will be the first duty for me after I get more of you – can I? please say that I can because I need you – one more baby, please, give me one more. promise I will be more cautious with our surroundings. don’t want to get you hurt. you will only get pleasure until we’re done, my love.”

JOHNNY CAGE can be the most reckless fucker in the whole timeline. interested in you only, he loses the last logical side of his brain – if he has any when he has you in different situations yet each one of them is as effective as the others.

being energetic, having almost superhuman strength, and going wild in sex, he is sure unreliable while fucking. creating a sense of fear with excitement in your abdomen, ideas rush into your mind as you think about what he will do differently this time in every intimate moment. his uniqueness can be pointed out even while fucking you or letting you fuck him.

he’s also loud, talkative, preferring to let you know that you feel wonderful, perfectly taking his dick – or him, entirely, destroying his mind because of the beauty you have as lust cages him like a chain.

he seems like a madman too with his mind full of thoughts about how he can turn the sex you have into something more bustling, catchy, and entertaining for the two of you, maybe a little more for you ‘cause he prefers to be an unforgettable lover. he addresses you as his queen, and he is determined to prove himself right by treating you as one.

to do this, he tries to get his ideas turn into realities while fucking you.

not caring about your surroundings, not thinking consequences of being unconcerned, not realizing what he has done until his highness’ effects of being pussy drunk decrease. the reality hit his face when he saw the world around him, you still under him, mind dizzy, mouth dry because of moaning non-stop, eyes half-closed as you looked up at his face, cries cleaning your heated face.

the bed, worth a million dollars he chose to fuck you onto, now has a broken headboard – the pieces falling onto the floor and the bed’s soft white fabric. the memories of the moment before rushes into his mind as he looks at the broken material inside his fisted hands; he understands that he is the one that caused this. he fucked your wide-open pussy so mindlessly that when he gripped the head to find something to hold on to, he broke it without realizing it.

as you still soak wet with your cum, and his own getting out of you, he jokes about the situation; chuckling while pointing out the power he has enough to break the bed’s head in one movement, showing it to you with such proudness you roll your eyes – this time not because of his dick, but because of his silliness.

he puts his hands on your sides, smirking down at you, winking, and having no shyness about breaking the bed.

“oh princess, it was worth a million dollars but doesn’t matter. you are worth more than anything in entire timelines. to have your pussy, I can break all of ‘em pretty. but can we appreciate how strong I am? ‘is all because of how good you’re makin’ me feel – ohh, pretty lady, making my mind go crazy like that – ‘is because of you that I broke it, but, what about we break the couch too? wanna do it – wanna break it too while eating you out. c'mon princess, gotta fuck you in every piece of furniture in this house.”

TOMAS is not like his brothers – he is not like the rest of the men at all. he’s a lover who puts your well-being before anyone else, including his desires, and passionate when it comes to that decision in times he has you inside his arms, standing naked from head to toe, giving yourself completely to the man you trust the most, you love the most.

his fragile manner doesn’t let him go hard on you even if you want him to do so. afraid of hurting you even a little bit prevents him from becoming rougher and harsh to you. he listens to all your pleases, begging him to fuck you harder, wanting him to believe he can never harm you, yet, he chooses to stay still even when you act so bratty, trying to get into his nerves, making him let it go.

tomas, being a cute shy boyfriend, delicate when the matter is you, stays determined for a long time ‘'til the day you plan everything out and make him lose his gentle manner, causing the loss’s emptiness to be completed with the new one – greed.

the greed he has for you builds up from his deep soul to show itself through his actions after he sees you sitting on the bed, on your knees, the dress you wear is thin and represents the color of tomas’ armor, the delightful body underneath it is visible to his widened eyes, looking innocently yet devilishly to his eyes, smiling widely as you rise your hand for him to hold and get into the bed with you.

who he is to resist? his determination is not that great – and both of you realize it when tomas gets into the bed, a moment later, when his cock meets with your already soaked and prepared pussy after he fingers you, he feels warmness, fire building within his body, making him want to devour you, unlike the times you had before, he’s a bit dizzy now.

he moans your name over and over again, lips curl only to moan, whimper, and beg for more. you let him though, saying he can get what he needs – you say he can use your body for his pleasure, and when he finally admits it feels euphoric to go rough on you, moans coming out of your pretty pink lips like a melody to his ears, encouraging him further.

he grips you from the waist while fucking you; he uses your body as he pleases, moving your body front to back, his thrusts meet with your walls in mid-air, earning rhythmic moans from both of you.

throwing his head back, he decides to hold the bed under your body because he realizes the red marks on your waist due to the grip he has on there. when his hands reach for the mattress, he grips the white covers strongly, hands turn into fists, and those fists hit the bed’s rigid surface – the bed breaks into two the moment he cum carelessly into you after you praise him, call him your good boy.

he swears for the first time, eyes closed shut, his cum meets with yours, forehead connects with your chest as you hug him from the shoulders.

breathing deeply into your breasts, warmness flows from his breaths to your exposed skin, smoke appearing on the curves of his body slowly, and you feel his tears because of both pleasure he has felt and quilt coming from breaking the bed, making your bodies go lower a little bit.

“oh, I’m so sorry, so so sorry, didn’t mean to – I – I just want to prove myself and get lost when you moan my name like that, calling me your good – ohh – boy. ‘m so sorry my goddess, please, forgive me. wanna say it will not repeated but I can’t – it felt so good that I wanna do it again – right now. my love, would you let me do it again? say yes, and I will be a very very good boy for you – only for my goddess.”

what a journey of rut! here's a cake for you because you deserve it after reading this, bearing it with me! 🍰

❤️ tagging: @lookingforgoodthings , @snowprincesa1 [taglist]

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sttoru · 3 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.

wc. 1.2k

note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.

tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.

it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.

“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.

your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.

and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.

zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.

though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.

zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.

his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.

zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.

“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.

your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.

“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.

there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.

zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.

you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.

“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.

zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.

“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”

you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.

“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.

zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”

that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”

you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.

“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”

that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”

zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.

“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”

you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”

zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.

he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;

“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.

before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.

“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.

zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #zayne x you

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vsimp · 10 months

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bitter

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader

wc: 3k

genre: angst

summary: where you are in an arranged marriage with him and you rarely ever see him

warning: somewhat traditional housewife roles, negative thoughts

What a cruel fate it was, to fall in love with a man who neither loves or hates you.

To spend long, cold nights alone. A large, indifferent room divided by two separate futons.

You knew that your husband was a busy man. He worked all night, barely resting during the day, and every time you’ve caught glimpse of his office, there was always a huge mess laying around on his desk. But having been married to him for such a long time, you felt that the distance between you two grew longer and longer every day.

In the morning, you would greet him with the biggest smile you could muster. He would greet you back with the same gentle smile everyday. At this point, you knew what his real smile looked like. You don’t recall when the last time he’s ever given you one.

If Miss Ayaka and Thoma were busy, and you dined alone with your husband, the table would be silent. You didn’t know what to say, and he’d also be reading over papers while eating, so you were afraid to disturb him. If the two were present, or if there were any other guests, Ayato would be more active in the conversation, joking lightheartedly and appearing like he was actually enjoying himself.

This man did not treat you unkindly despite having these feelings that lurked in your chest. In fact, it was the opposite. He was a true gentleman every time you interacted with him. He would open the door for you while you two walked together. He would pull out the chair when you wanted to sit. He would hold your hand and escort you to any event, or if you were getting on/off a carriage.

But it was all superficial. It felt like he was forcing himself to do these actions for you. You couldn’t even tell what his intentions are for doing so. You couldn’t tell if he just disliked you, disliked this arranged marriage, or if he just wanted people to see what a loving husband he was, that everything was okay right now even though it really wasn’t.

From touchless nights to meaningless small talk, your heart ached at the thought of everything. You don’t ever recall the last time he’s kissed you on the lips in private. You don’t recall the last time he’s ever opened up to you about the depths of his heart, from the things that scared him the most, to the things that has made him truly happy.

And while you know that a relationship thrives off of communication, you couldn’t help but feel scared. You were scared that the man in front of you would grow even colder, shutting off the depths of his heart forever, pushing you away if you were to ever confront him. Maybe he’d even take it to an extreme and call off the marriage with you, telling you that he never loved you, as this was really only an arrangement between your two families. Maybe he was in love with someone else prior to this marriage, and he has only reserved his heart for them all of these years.

You have seen his darker sides. He doesn’t think that anyone has noticed, but you have. You were always watching him, after all.

A more mischievous side of him existed deep down in there, a certain sly foxiness that could even rival Guuji Yae herself. Sometimes, it would scare you to see that forced smile on his face as if what lingered in his mind were true thoughts darker than what he had initially led on.

But despite his flaws, despite the mask he constantly wore around, you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You loved how he cared for people despite them being complete strangers to him. You loved his gentle smile as he holds your hand so tenderly when you accidentally trip. How could a man be so kind, yet so cruel to your heart?

And even as you laid in bed most nights alone, shedding tears as if you were the dark side of the crystal moon longing for the light of the sun, you still loved him regardless.

You were in your futon all alone as of this moment, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch black and silent, other than the occasional sounds of the residual droplets from the passing rain. Ayato would never let you rest in a room that was cold, so the temperature was heated comfortably, yet you couldn’t help but bundle yourself up under the covers even more.

It was cold without him. You didn’t even realize when the last time he had actually went to bed in this room you both allegedly shared.

But it didn’t matter anyways because his futon laid far away from yours.

Your own husband wouldn’t even come near you when you’re together in the same room. You didn’t know if he just wanted to be respectful as a formality between husband and wife, or if he is repulsed by being in the same vicinity as you, but it hurt regardless.

You sighed as you covered your face with the blanket, trying to get rid of these harboring thoughts. It was no use, no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him every single night. He is what plagues your mind at night, like a thorn lodged deep in a fingertip. It was only soon that you will be bleeding out your love for him.

How could you make a scene about all of this anyways? You've seen how hard he works. You knew that everything he did, it was for the sake of protecting his family and home. Who were you to complain about how busy he was? That was another reason why you continued to keep silent. You thought that your worries meant nothing compared to his own.

Your mind was racing a mile per minute, and you knew you weren't able to get any sleep like this. You got up and out of your futon as you decided to go for a stroll around the estate. The guards protected the outside and prevented from anybody from coming in. As long as you walked around inside, there should be no problem with you strolling the corridors, so long as you remained quiet.

Lighting up a candle, you started meandering through the halls, your footsteps nearly silent with no goal or destination in mind. You didn't even realize your feet had automatically taken you to the doors of his office, the same door that you have stared at many times, knowing that your husband was in there, but you had no reason or courage to open. You see the dimly lit light through the translucent paper sheets, and you knew that tonight was going to be another long night with no rest for him.

You sighed, not remembering the last time you had been in his office, and you were about to step away, but the door suddenly slides open rather violently. You flinch in shock because you didn’t expect for anything to happen, as he usually never notices your presence.

"Who is there?" He said in a serious tone, and you were finally greeted by the man who plagued your every thought and dreams. His hand laid on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was ready to strike down any intruder who was lurking in the shadows. But instead of drawing his sword, he blinked a few times, realizing it was just you who stood there. He instantly let go of the sword and his expression relaxed a bit, although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly to show confusion. "Y/n? What are you doing here? It is almost 2am right now."

His presence stunned you for a second before you snapped out of the current awe-struck daze you were in. It had been quite a while since you've seen his face. He was rarely home anymore, but when he was, he would be holed up in his office. You only ever see him to greet him when he returned back home, and sometimes when he leaves, as he had a habit of sneaking out secretly every so often.

"Oh." You were flustered at this unexpected situation. "I had trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk..."

"Is something troubling you?" He asked in concern. "If it is work-related with the household, then I know Ayaka would be happy to give you a hand.”

"It's not that..." You shook your head. You didn't want him to worry about you, so you tell him a small lie. "It's just one of those nights..."

"I see."

"Have you been faring well?" You then asked him.

He gave you a small, gentle smile, but you have seen this many times. It was one of the masks he wore when he wasn’t telling the truth.

"I've been doing alright," he replied. Anybody would've believed him, as he would never appear disheveled in front of anybody, but from the way his eyes had a slight dark tint underneath them and the mess that apparently was his desk with papers and pens strewn everywhere, you knew that he was far from so. "I was actually looking to take a break soon from my paperwork. Since you probably will be up for a little bit, would you care to join me?"

An invitation from him was rare, and you immediately jumped ship. You nodded. "Let me go prepare some tea."

"Oh, there's no need to do that."

"Nonsense," you gave him a reassuring smile, knowing what he was going to say. He was so considerate as always, not wanting to trouble you. "It will only be a few.”

You start to walk down the hall to head to the kitchen, but you were surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Before you knew it, Ayato was walking beside you, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest.

"Ayato?" You questioned.

It was dim, as the candle was the only thing that lit the dark halls, so you can barely make out his expression.

"I'll tag along with you then." He said softly, as to not wake anybody else up. "It will be a good change of pace from being stuck in my office all night."

To you, he was so hard to read at times. If he was accompanying you, he surely must have his reasons, as he had never used any of his personal time on you before. He only accompanied you outside when he had a special meeting at an event that required for both spouses to arrive. Those were the only times when he was somewhat affectionate. That was why you were nervous when he decided to come along with you, thinking he had an ulterior motive like he usual does. But a small, small part of you hoped that it was something else; that he wanted to join you because he missed you and just wanted to idly chat.

You stepped into the kitchen and then lit a brighter lantern to illuminate the room using your own candle. But before you could do anything else, you watched as Ayato's hand pushed a portion of your hair aside. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the action, your eyes making its way towards him now that you were able to see his face.

He wore a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at you tenderly. A rare expression indeed, you’ve only noted him to give this look to Ayaka. It made your heart hurt a little as it thumped away in your chest, feeling like you could soar to the moon and never come back.

"Your hair was getting close to the flames, so I didn't want it to burn,” he explained.

"Oh..." You didn't know what else you could say. "Thank you..."

With that, you started boiling the kettle of water, your body moving to find tea leaves. Ayato watches on without speaking a word, and you two drift into a somewhat lulling silence.

As you prepared your leaves, Ayato interrupted the silence no sooner than later.

“There’s another event that the Kanjou Commission is hosting,” he said. There it was. He needed you to attend another political event with him. You were once so naive to think that he would actually spend time with you just because he wanted to. You knew he hated small talk and would rather get straight to the point. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind attending it with me.”

Of course you didn’t mind, if it meant that you would be spending more time with him. But even if you did expect for this, you were still disappointed.

“Sure. When will it be?”

“In two months. They’re hosting a party event to discuss upcoming financial plans for the winter.”

You nodded, your hands a little rougher than usual as you crushed up the dried tea leaves in the mortar. Usually you would hide your emotions well, but it definitely showed in the way you pounded at the leaves.

If Ayato had noticed your switch in moods, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went over to the cabinet to grab two cups for the tea.

“I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

Another blatant lie fueled only by courtesy. He always says this whenever you did a favor for him. If you were to truly ask for a favor, he would have Thoma somehow fulfill it, or he would say that he was too busy to do it himself, and that he would make it up later. He would send a gift, picked out by either Thoma or Ayaka of course, to later apologize for not fulfilling your promise.

And although it has only happened four or five times before you’d stop asking him for favors, knowing that he was too busy to fulfill them, it still left a bitter feeling within you.

You felt that it was selfish for you to feel this way. You knew that he had lost his parents at a young age, having to resume the role as the leader of the Yashiro Commission and head of the Kamisato Clan very early in life. You thought it wasn’t right for you to feel bitter about small things like this. Yet, as you glanced at the man in front of you, who barely looked at you and instead stared at the bright full moon outside, your heart ached at this solemn expression— one that loomed with fatigue and tiredness.

Maybe what you truly longed for was his happiness. Maybe you wanted to share that happiness with him, although you knew it would be a long shot. So long as he was the head of the Yashiro Commission, the leader of the Shuumatsuban, there will always be a distance between you two, as he prioritized things differently from any other typical person. Even though he was in the same room as you right now, as the moon peaked through the small window, the cicadas singing in the distance, he still looked as alone as ever. Like there was an unmeasurable length between you two, and you were too afraid to cross it, in fear that you would never be able to reach him.

The kettle soon starts to heat up, and you take it off the flame to start steeping the tea leaves. A few minutes of silence passed, and you wondered then if he was going to leave immediately after he finished his tea. It was still hot, so you had a couple more minutes left with him, right?

You poured the tea carefully in the cup and then proceeded to hand it over to him.

“It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at you and graciously accepted the tea. He picked it up to his lips, blowing it a few times as he inhaled the scent. “This smells like a different type of tea than the one you served at the event the other day.”

You remembered that event. You were attending a birthday party for an old couple who were close friends with the Kamisato’s. You brewed that tea with extra care, knowing that Ayato was going to drink it on that very occasion.

“It was truly delicious,” he complimented and you felt your heart soar at his words once more. “I know I never told you this, but it was one of my favorite hot teas.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I smiled, making note to remember that information. “This one that I brewed helps with stress and calms the mind.”

He took a sip once the tea is cooled down a bit more. “I can see how this one can have that effect. It’s a very mild, but calming flavor. It’s a good choice for you to brew this, since it will probably help you sleep.”

Actually, you had brewed it for him, so that he wouldn’t stress so much, but you held your tongue back. Instead, you took a sip of the hot tea, trying to match his pace so that you both could finish at the same time.

“I hope you like it,” you said.

“I do enjoy it quite a bit,” he replied with a small smile on his face. “I will take it to my office and savor it. I appreciate you willing to spend time with me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“I hope you get some sleep soon, and try not to stay awake for too long,” your husband stated. “Please pardon me, I must return to my work.”

You forced out a smile in return, knowing that he had cut his time off with you short on purpose.

“Have a good night, Ayato.”

He gave a small nod as he walked out with the tea in his hand. You waited for the door to fully shut before you leaned on the counter with your back pressed to it.

He didn't even wait to finish the tea before he left. He just went straight to the point, pushing you aside as if your feelings had never mattered to him in the first place.

Your hands gripped the ceramic tea cup tightly. It felt like if you had held it tight enough, it would shatter and break, scalding your skin like the way your husband did just now.

Your tears dripped into the tea, the salty solution messing with the delicate taste of the drink as you sipped it, not wanting anything to go to waste. What was once a calming, smooth taste was now bitter.

So, so bitter.

It was another cruel, lonely night that awaited you.

#repost from this morning because I don’t see it listed when tagged #when u just started this blog and ur already soft shadowbanned #genshin impact #genshin #Kamisato Ayato #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #Ayato x reader #Ayato x reader angst #genshin angst

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vauxxy · 4 months

Text

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

#luke castellan enemies to lovers #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo x reader #pjo tv show

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