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zreamy · 8 months

Text

won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again.

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt.

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you.

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision.

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always.

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had.

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried.

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table.

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer..

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything.

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?”

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too.

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?”

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him.

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?”

You set your jaw. “Okay.”

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two.

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?”

“Do what?”

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker.

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.”

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead.

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he’ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?”

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.”

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting.

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“You guys still talk?”

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice.

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to.

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners.

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed.

“Heeseung.”

“I really have to go.”

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside.

You don’t follow him.

But that was in June, and now it’s September.

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook.

“Is someone sitting here?”

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room.

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor.

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down.

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened.

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides.

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest.

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you.

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together.

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off.

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach.

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road.

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food.

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.”

“It’s absurd.”

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months.

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.”

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face.

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.”

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.”

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?”

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.”

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?”

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too.

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him.

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.”

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring.

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?”

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends.

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home.

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.”

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all.

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.”

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.”

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving.

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?”

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?”

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.”

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.”

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.”

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?”

“So she doesn’t.”

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs.

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.”

“Are you crying?” Jay coos.

“Sure.”

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?”

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too.

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls.

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet.

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch.

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves.

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping.

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back.

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body.

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away.

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!”

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!”

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!”

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you.

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home.

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back.

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.”

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?”

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.”

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.”

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck.

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it.

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all.

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class.

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with?

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw?

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?”

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn.

“No, ne—just no.”

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?”

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face.

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow?

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders.

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done.

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :)

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk?

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood.

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands.

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go?

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it.

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well!

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement.

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up.

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.”

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!”

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too.

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully.

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot—they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?”

“Host what?”

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem.

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt.

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing.

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven.

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win.

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?”

Heeseung can only shrug in response.

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well.

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either.

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck.

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.”

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.”

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?”

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall.

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes.

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly.

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him.

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. ��Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange.

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay.

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him.

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

“What did he say?”

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly.

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?”

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.”

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long.

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.”

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods.

“Did you guys have fun?”

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.”

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.”

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head.

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.”

“Oh, cool.”

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering.

“Good for Jimin.”

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.”

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.”

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.”

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt.

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so..

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought.

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says.

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?”

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks.

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.”

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.”

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?”

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while.

“And now?”

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral.

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep.

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence.

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.”

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life.

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.”

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you.

“Do something,” Jay mumbles.

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming.

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?”

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick.

“Insane,” he admits.

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.”

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top.

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest.

“Good luck.”

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.”

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another.

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him.

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles.

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll.

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you.

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door.

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble.

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.”

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about.

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?”

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table.

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.”

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.”

“Me too.”

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did.

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp.

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails.

“What happened?”

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door.

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.”

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.”

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.”

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.”

“Is it harder to take off?”

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.”

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?”

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.”

“Oh.”

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time.

“It’s 12:23.”

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?”

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.”

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.”

“I wish I never left.”

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had.

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?”

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.”

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.”

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?”

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow.

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours.

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.”

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.”

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress.

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.”

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful.

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?”

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?”

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops.

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!”

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung.

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat.

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him.

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold.

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.”

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.”

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for.

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands.

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted.

Almost.

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up.

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen.

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down.

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday.

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?”

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.”

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair.

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt.

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door.

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning.

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard.

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet.

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting.

“Okay, ouch.”

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.”

“What if I wanted to make them this week?”

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.”

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine.

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said.

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right.

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?”

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works.

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow.

“What are we eating?”

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s.

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss.

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap.

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?”

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more.

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift.

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind.

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!”

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.”

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.”

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet.

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.”

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?”

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started.

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him.

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan.

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.”

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window.

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind.

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks.

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again.

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.”

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.”

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?”

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.”

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas.

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,” you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping.

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket.

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds.

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him.

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.”

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it.

“I actually like beer these days.”

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa.

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious.

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.”

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion.

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?”

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go.

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know.

“You’re weird too.”

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle.

“You’ve always been weird.”

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away.

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?”

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.”

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.”

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?”

“A little.”

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together.

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train.

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up.

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again.

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles.

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning.

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.”

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.”

“It kind of was.”

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.”

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling.

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.”

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.”

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?”

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.”

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?”

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.”

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Never.”

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.”

“Got it.”

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves.

He’s never drinking with you again.

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly.

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.”

“Or we could skip?”

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up.

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.”

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt.

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says.

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out.

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food.

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides.

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building.

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope.

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves.

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.”

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door.

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for.

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home.

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave.

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.”

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests.

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you.

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do.

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze.

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.”

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?”

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally.

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.”

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did.

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.”

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.”

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing.

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to.

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move.

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass.

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again.

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency?

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting.

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door.

“My pocket,” you mumble.

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly.

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school.

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?”

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change.

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.”

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy.

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.”

“You would have made the wrong one.”

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?”

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?”

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.”

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.”

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to.

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?”

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“Evidently, I do not.”

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung.

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.”

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.”

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more.

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him.

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus.

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer.

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.”

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen.

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven.

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes.

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room.

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink.

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong.

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly.

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt.

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky.

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom.

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway.

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him.

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern.

You look up at him, nodding.

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.”

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.”

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.”

“We have class in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too.

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.”

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet.

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers.

“What are you doing, Heeseung?”

“Trying to sleep.”

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him.

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation.

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.”

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?”

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code.

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.”

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.”

“But she did.”

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word.

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?”

“It’s not like that, not really.”

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.”

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?”

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring.

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.”

“Cool.” he nods, relieved.

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.”

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?”

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?”

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.”

“It wasn’t as easy as that.”

“Why not?”

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer.

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.”

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough.

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.”

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life.

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?”

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.”

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.”

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.”

“Heeseung.”

“You had a choice.”

“Heeseung.”

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried.

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.”

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation.

“It’s not too late.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?”

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says.

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it.

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived.

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards.

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you.

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time.

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine.

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung.

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread.

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you.

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago.

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on.

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month.

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead.

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one.

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge.

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.”

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.”

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her.

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze!

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.”

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them.

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options.

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally.

“But it’s Thursday.”

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind.

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless.

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes.

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed.

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.”

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.”

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note.

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :( We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later?

— Your Hee.

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life.

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you.

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out.

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?”

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway.

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs.

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed.

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.”

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving.

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist.

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?”

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back.

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out.

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead.

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.”

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms.

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan.

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?”

“In what context?”

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.”

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin.

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.”

“Can we kiss now?”

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects.

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips.

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips.

He understands, Heeseung always understands.

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut.

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat.

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.”

“No.”

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m starting now.”

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.”

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.”

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?”

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.”

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?”

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly.

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips.

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads.

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?”

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you.

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text.

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound?

you: sounds good :D

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight.

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies.

jay: sounds good :D

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now.

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand.

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip.

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.”

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed.

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder.

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.”

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?”

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him.

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks.

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts.

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in.

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.”

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching.

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap.

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too.

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?”

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung.

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair.

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you.

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky.

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.”

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung.

And Jake.

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree.

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face?

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you.

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction.

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.”

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it.

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over.

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white.

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him.

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours.

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.”

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment.

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.”

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely.

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.”

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head.

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh.

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else.

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you.

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear.

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it.

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow.

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away.

“You don’t want this?”

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking.

“We’ve been together for six years.”

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands.

He closes his eyes, nodding.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees.

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager.

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there.

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice.

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down.

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand.

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly.

“Tell me, baby.”

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.”

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.”

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been.

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar.

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape.

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?”

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes.

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears.

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.”

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning.

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face.

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing.

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours.

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm.

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.”

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning.

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers.

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around.

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night.

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back.

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit.

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy.

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between.

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up.

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips.

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly.

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop.

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips.

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes.

“I’m not going to beg.”

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room.

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin.

“You have me.”

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him.

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.”

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?”

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.”

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.”

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead.

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles.

“What are you talking about?”

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little.

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?”

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants.

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.”

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish.

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate.

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile.

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?”

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin.

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away.

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?”

You nod.

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach.

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan.

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head.

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve.

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck.

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral.

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind.

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips.

“Me too.”

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours.

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.”

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge.

You nod desperately. “Please.”

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach.

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut.

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take.

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes.

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach.

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers.

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake.

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it.

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress.

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear.

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head.

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?”

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction,

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up.

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn.

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed.

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?”

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.”

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.”

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over.

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing.

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time.

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.”

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #heeseung imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.heeseung

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dambaepuff · 23 days

Note

hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x female reader

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endlessthxxghts · 9 months

Text

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned) if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you.

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee.

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it.

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now.

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket.

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you.

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up.

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?”

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you.

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you.

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.”

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.”

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day.

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?”

“Mhm, please.”

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone.

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you?

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door.

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first:

“Safe words. Repeat em’.”

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.”

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.”

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two.

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?”

Silence.

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out.

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.”

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman.

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors.

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal.

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it.

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet.

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod.

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away.

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible.

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach.

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit.

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to.

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible.

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him.

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient.

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.”

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only.

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here.

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength.

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him.

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out.

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb.

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down.

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down.

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek.

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala.

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs.

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat.

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place.

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan.

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you.

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit.

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy.

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves.

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee?

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt.

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?”

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator.

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on.

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing.

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you.

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms.

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices.

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do.

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his.

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?”

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance.

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way.

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard.

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear.

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans.

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here.

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you.

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.”

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging.

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you.

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more.

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you.

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release.

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets.

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort.

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you.

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-”

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe.

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-”

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss.

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.”

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high.

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need.

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly.

“Darlin’...”

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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voonroo · 5 months

Note

heyy could u write a alastor x teen! reader platonic, where teen!reader had an abusive family which seh killed to get out of the situation, and now is with Alastor and sees him as a father figure. Thank youu

Tune In Whenever My Dear!

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader REQ

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it! Platonic Alastor with a teen reader fics have my heart😞

Alastor & Teen Reader

The radio demon was quite confused when a teen ended up in the hotel and even more surprised when the child grew attached to him.

At first, he simply dealt with the teen talking with him about mundane things.

But, with time, the demon grew fond of you. As sad as it was, someone so young was in hell, it was entertaining to converse with the younger generation.

(Just ask him about his radio show and kinda ignore the more… creative things he says about it.)

I could see him trying to get you into clothes from his time. Claiming that you would look absolutely marvelous in such attire.

I could also see him trying to show you recipes he remembers from the human world. (minus the cannibal ones.)

He's the type to randomly give you things he thinks you may like.

One of the first things he gave you was an old radio.

When you mentioned being interested in his podcasts, he found you one so you could toon into his more… friendly podcasts whenever he was live.

During overlord meetings, there's a slim chance he might mention your presence whenever someone says something he disagrees with.

“Why, what an idea! However, I do know someone who could come up with something even better!”

He probably wouldn't do it very often, for your own safety, but he's so vague whenever he offhandedly mentions you. It raises a few eyebrows.

Vox definitely has done some digging though so he knows of your existence. Probably.

Overall I don't believe he would take up the title of your father himself. But he doesn't deny it when someone else states it.

Once Angel said something along the lines of, “Alastor- chill~ you can be such a dad sometimes.” and all Alastor said was, “Then so be it. But they're not drinking.”

He's sent you to your room before whenever he's about to go apeshit. So he cares.

Word Count: 327

Inbox is open!!

#gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel platonic #hazbin x reader #hazbin x reader platonic #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #hazbin x teen reader #hazbin hotel x teen reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x teen reader #father child relationship #gender neutral y/n #no use of y/n #x reader #voonroo

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f1fnatic · 6 months

Text

XNDA ⤿ l. hamilton 44

→ ( in which. . . ) you, a famous musician, release a new album with an unknown feature. you both post suspicious photos of random people on your respective social medias. your fans start to connect you with a highly decorated formula one driver.

→ ( part. . . ) 1 of 2

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) christina aguilera

→ ( pairing. . . ) lewis hamilton x singer!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) fluff, setting the plot

→ ( author's note. . . ) this is my first ever social media au, it was super fun to mess around with this fic. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nmusic

liked by theweeknd, lewishamilton, pharell and 2,873,409 others

y/music i am so excited to announce my 8th studio album liberation! i have worked so hard to produce this and had so much fun creating this album.

i would like to thank everyone who featured in these songs, you were all such a joy to work with! i would also like to thank my person for being my rock and helping me when i felt that this project was not moving/going anywhere, i love you so much <3

view 584,893 comments

user5 so excited!!

user17 mother is mothering

pharell it was a pleasure to work with you liked by y/nmusic

f1lover lewis is lurking...

lewishamilton cannot wait to listen 🖤

f1ishamilton THE HEART???

roscoe4ever EXCUSE ME??? WHAT IS THIS?

user12 who is the "rock"...

user29 "my person" ???!!!?!?!?!

gwenstefani so so so proud of u ❤ liked by y/nmusic

─ TWITTER ↴

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nmusic

📍 brackley, england

liked by lewishamilton, pharrell, taylorswift, gwenstefani and 3,173,562 others

y/nmusic a weekend away ❤️

view 298,754 comments

user4 hope you had fun!!

y/nmusic i did thank you 🫶🏻

user4 OH MY GOD Y/N???

f1lvr lewis is lurking AGAIN.

gwenstefani girl who are u holding hands with?

y/nmusic calling u rn dw gwen

y/nstan LOL not even gwen knows this is crazy

y/nfan gf who is the guy 🤨

y/nfan2 there goes another parasocial relationship

y/nlover3 scratching my eyes out (i am so happy for her)

lh444 the location???

roscoe4ever RIGHT like hello??

taylorswift i miss you ml ☹️

y/nmusic i'll be back soon dw!

lewishamilton

📍 brackley, england

liked by y/nmusic, sebastianvettel, fencer, roscoelovescoco and 4,367,981 others

lewishamilton recharging with the ones i love most 🖤

tagged: roscoelovescoco

view 458,512 comments

lewisfan i am soooooooo normal about this (i am going crazy)

lewisfan2 me too (i am actually ripping my hair out)

roscoelovescoco love's you's dad's 🐾

lh444 sometimes i forget that lewis runs his dogs account, i remember, and then get the ick

y/nfan7 what is y/n doing here

sebastianvettel you look like you are having fun! liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton

lewisfan3 the matching shoes 😭

lewisy/nshipper not him using the same black heart emoji he used on the liberation announcement?

y/nfan okay grandma lets get u back to bed

─ TWITTER ↴

i am back!! i am so sorry for taking such a long hiatus, i have had no motivation to write, i get ideas but then hate how i make them. i hope you all enjoy this fic! thank you for reading! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

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blue-jisungs · 1 month

Note

hey, how are you doing ?? hope you’re doing well !! 🎀🩷

i just wanted to ask if you can write a comfort fic with Jiung from p1h 🥺 everything is up to you i’ve been having hard times for the last few months and i’m just keep reading your works so i wanna say thank you, you really helped me get through this time ❤️‍🩹

just sleeping

# author's note ... sorry for such a long wait but actually we were twinning and i was going through some stuff too 😭 i hope you enjoy this tho <3 i hope you’re doing better now and i’m happy my silly little writing could help you cheer up, even a bit 🫂❤️‍🩹

# summary ... jiung enjoys every moment with you, even if it’s just a nap

# warnings ... mention of throwing up (but in a joking way), might seem a little suggestive but only if u squint ++ whole p1h cameo because i love them so much:(

# word count ... 1085

entering the dorm with keeho and intak, jiung is surprised at how quiet the place is.

“now that’s suspicious…” keeho giggled and three boys took off their shoes and put away their jackets.

bags rustling in their hands, they walked up to the living room. the soft sound of mario kart music echoed in the room but… the game seemed far forgotten.

“is anyone there?” intak asked quietly and jiung stepped closer, heart swelling in his chest upon the sight in front of his eyes.

you were sitting in the middle of the couch, shota and jongseob resting their heads on your lap. taeyang was awkwardly resting his head against the youngests’, hands wrapped around your legs… and his bottom part of the body uncomfortably on the floor.

keeho cooed and whipped out his phone, capturing this cute moment.

“what is that supposed to mean!” jiung grunted dramatically, noticing three gaming controllers messily thrown on the ground and a book of yours.

“they fell asleep, you should be grateful” your sleepy murmur caught their attention.

your tired gaze met your boyfriend’s curious eyes and you sent him a lopsided smile.

“what even happened here?” keeho laughed softly and started to pick up the controllers from the ground.

“well shota and seob were playing games, suddenly seob leaned against me so i started scratching his head. and then shota wanted too… and then tae came and protested that he wants too but welp, he didn’t fit on the couch so…” you chuckled, careful not to wake them up.

“idiots” jiung crossed his arms and noticed the sleepiness lingering in your gaze.

he knew that for the past few weeks (if not longer!) you’ve been struggling with work and academic stuff. on top of that, you were exhausted mentally, struggling with socializing and finding happiness in even your favorite hobbies.

and yet… here you are, hanging out with his friends… scratching their heads and letting them asleep on you.

“okay, enough of this. y/nnie, i bought something for you” your boyfriend hummed and poked theo’s arm.

“yeah, you must be pretty cramped up” intak sighed and shook the youngest’s shoulders.

you gently tucked shota’s hair behind his ear and woke him up with a soft tap on his back.

“what is it?” he yawned, sitting up. his hair was sticking in every direction, causing you all to laugh. the vibrations of your body stirred jongseob awake completely.

“my body…” theo groaned, massaging his neck. his eyes widened upon seeing the rest of the members being back “hi there”

“oh she has you all in a chokehold” keeho grinned and nudged jiung.

“did you even sleep?” seob asked you quietly, smacking away intak’s hands. you nodded, even though it wasn’t fully true. you were sleepy, sure, but you didn’t nap like them.

“okay, let’s make some food” intak clapped his hands, the youngests’ ears perking up.

once they were off you, you stretched your arms with a pleasant hum.

“how was the shopping, baby?” you asked jiung, who walked up behind you. then, you felt his warm hands on your neck and arms. massaging your sore muscles gently, you let your hands drop (and your neck too) “that’s nice…”

“we bought some clothes, intak bought some lego. i saw a cute hoodie and thought you’d like it so…” he wanted to go and show it to you but he noticed the way your arms relaxed. his thumb pressing in the middle of your neck. a groan ripped out of your throat, causing the boys in the kitchen to laugh.

“ew, disgusting!”

“i’ll show you the hoodie later, okay? and how was your day?” jiung ignored them, fingers working their way to the side of your neck. the pressure was a bit tough but in a pleasant way.

“fine… boring… missed you. so, nothing new… oh, right here, please” you hummed, letting out a small sigh when he stumbled upon a certain spot. he smiled and continued on.

“i’m literally gonna throw up, can you take this somewhere private?” theo snickered.

“ugh, intak, we’ll have to stay out of the dorm for a while” keeho sighed dramatically and you shot your head up, glaring at him “joking! joking…”

“c’mere, ji. they are just haters…” you mumbled and turned around, kneeling on the couch. wrapping your hands around his neck, you pecked his lips in a playful manner.

“ew! okay, sorry! just go!” keeho laughed, amused by the situation. the truth was, he just wanted you two to have some privacy – especially considering that you haven’t seen each other for the whole day.

you leaned away from jiung and stood up, grabbing your long forgotten book. after leaving it on the coffee table, he grabbed your hand gently and the bag in other.

entering his shared room, you looked around. the window was open, a nice breeze sneaking in.

“here, try it on” jiung leaned down and handed you the cloth. the hoodie was really cute – exactly how you liked it. it fit perfectly too.

you spun dramatically and posed.

“and?” you asked. jiung was observing you, smitten. a cocky smile was blooming on his lips.

“it’s perfect. what do you think, though?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“it doesn’t smell like you yet. other than that, i love it. thank you, baby” you hummed and placed a kiss on his cheek.

jiung melted upon the sweet gesture. everything you did caused his heart rate to speed up, even after almost two years of dating.

“how was your day?” jiung asked and you fought a yawn, nodding.

“as usual… do you wanna take a nap? those rascals didn’t really let me sleep… taeyang talks awfully a lot of things in his sleep, did you know that?” you giggled and before he answered, you already hopped into his bed, burying yourself in the blankets.

spotting the plushie you bought for him ages ago, you grabbed it and pressed to your chest.

“i’m no fun, am i? just sleeping all day” you giggled, a spark of guilt in your eyes. jiung shook his head and in a blink of an eye was next to you, arms wrapping around you securely.

“i was tired too. besides, i don’t mind if i sleep or go bungee jumping. as long as you’re with me, i’ll enjoy everything” he hummed and pressed a tender kiss on your cheek bone. melting into the gesture (and because of his words), your eyes began to close.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

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caelesjjk · 1 year

Text

Wicked As They Come | myg

⟶ title: Wicked As They Come

⟶ pairing: vampire!yoongi x reporter! f reader

⟶ genres/aus: supernatural au, vampire au, fake dating au, ceo au, romance, smut

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ wc: 10.7k

⟶ warnings: Yoongi is a bit mean but 😏, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, threats, dirty talk, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking, blood play, a cheesy staircase scene, a shower scene, smut in the forms of: oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

⟶ summary: you’ve been undercover at one of Min Yoongi’s many hotels in the city for the past week. you’re there because of the rumors that have been spreading regarding his vampire employees feeding off of his human guests. what you don’t expect to happen is Min Yoongi discovering your true intentions in his hotel and offering you a very interesting ultimatum: pretend to date the vampire CEO to help appeal to his human guests, or quickly find out just what kind of monster he can really be.

⟶ authors note: I know you all must be so surprised to see me posting since it’s been literal months lol. This fic is part of the To Love A Monster collab that I’m hosting with a bunch of really amazing writers. Please check out their fics as well! I have to give some big shoutouts here: M @here2bbtstrash, thank you for betaing what was obviously a mess and assuring me that it wasn’t complete trash, I so appreciate your help. Also to sav @jeonjcngkook who read it before it was even done to also assure me I wasn’t writing junk. And then to jai @gimmethatagustd for making this amazing banner all those months ago when I thought I wouldn’t procrastinate and get this done sooner lol.

I hope you all enjoy this, it’s mostly porn lol.

You have been sneaking around his hotel for a week trying to put any weight behind the rumors that were circulating.

Min Yoongi was a vampire and a very powerful one. He owns almost every luxury hotel within 500 miles of the city. He employs vampires and humans in his hotels and none of the humans you had been talking to seemed afraid to be here. So why are there rumors the vamps are feeding off humans in his hotels?

You have been unable to find any evidence of the unapproved blood drinking. There is, of course, plenty of approved blood drinking. Humans are paid handsomely to volunteer their blood to the vamps and Min Yoongi almost made a show of how much he paid them.

Your last night in the hotel is supposed to be spent at a masquerade party being held downstairs in the grand room, but ever curious you decided to take a small detour past the kitchens.

The dress you are wearing was sent to your hotel room with a note that simply stated “can’t wait to finally meet you tonight when you're wearing this.”

At first, you thought it was possibly delivered to your room by mistake. But the dress was exactly your size and fit like it had been made for you. You didn’t have a no clue who would have sent it, but you weren’t the type to turn down expensive gifts.

While taking your last minute detour past the kitchens, you hear something around the corner that quickly catches your attention.

“I don’t want you to if it’s going to hurt, Jimin.” A female voice says in a hushed whisper.

“I would never hurt you, princess. It’s going to feel so good,” a man with silver hair and a ridiculously pretty smile says to the female as you slowly peek around the corner. One of his hands strokes her cheek while the other holds her body against his.

“Do you promise?” Her voice trembles slightly and you’re immediately afraid for her.

“Of course.” He leans down to kiss her and she seems to melt into him.

There are two things you are absolutely sure about at this moment.

This man named Jimin is a vampire.

This girl is human and being coerced into letting this vampire bite her even though she is obviously terrified.

You watch as the vampire hikes up the girl's skirt, hitching her leg over his hip. You hadn’t noticed that he had removed his cock from his pants until you saw him slip inside the girl in front of him.

You can’t look away, but an even bigger part of you wants to see more. She moans his name and Jimin praises her for taking him so well.

Was this really what they had been talking about? Were they talking about fucking and not him drinking her blood?

But while you were distracted by the scene in front of you, watching tears roll down the girl's face when Jimin slammed her back to the wall, you hadn’t realized that someone else was watching you. A hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your waist and lifts you off the ground.

“You aren’t supposed to be down here,” a deep voice says against the shell of your ear. You try to scream to no avail, flailing your head around trying to hit them in the face, but they’re too quick.

You keep fighting against them, even as you feel a needle pierce the skin of your neck and a scream leave the mouth of that poor girl around the corner.

“Time to wake up.” You feel someone grip your face in their hand to keep your head up. Your mind feels like a fog has settled inside.

“You probably gave her too much, Namjoon,” a voice says.

“Impossible. I never miscalculate a dose.”

“Would you two please shut the fuck up,” a deep grumbly voice says from a little further away. “Open your eyes, little monster.”

You force them to flutter open, trying to focus on what’s in front of you through your blurry vision.

“Where…where am I?” You start to move your limbs; your legs move fine, but your arms are handcuffed behind the back of the chair you’re sitting in. “What the fuck?”

“We need to talk about why you’ve been snooping around my hotel for the past week. And I suggest you not lie to me or I’ll kill you now.” A man dressed in a very expensive suit comes around the front side of the desk he was sitting behind and leans against it.

“If you already know, what’s the point in me telling you anything?” Your vision clears more as you focus on his face: long black hair smoothed back off his forehead and eyes that could see through your soul.

“Humor me.” His voice is suddenly at your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Is this how you treat all of your guests? Cuffing them to chairs and letting your employees drink their blood even though they’re terrified?” You glare at him as you speak. It didn’t take you long to realize that this man is Min Yoongi.

He laughs before placing his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning down until his face is level with yours.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, little monster.” His voice is low and his smirk is maddening.

“I’m calling the cops as soon as I get the fuck out of here. This is kidnapping.” You struggle against the cuffs to no avail. Yoongi leans down closer, his nose coming down to skim your throat and cause your body to freeze.

“I can smell it on you…the fear. Your heart is pumping too hard. It’s fucking divine.” His tongue ghosts along your skin and no matter how hard you try not to react, goosebumps appear after you shiver. “Does that turn you on, little monster? Knowing I could kill you…bleed you dry on my tongue?”

It does. God it fucking does. It’s so fucked up, but pain…pushing limits…a little bit of fear…you fucking love it.

“No.” You seethe through clenched teeth.

“Liar.” His words are hot against your ear before his inhuman speed takes him back to the other side of his desk in an instant.

“Bastard.” You cross your legs tightly and slump against the chair.

“You have a choice to make, Ms. ______.” Yoongi sits down in his oversized leather chair and leans back with his eyes on you. “I’m in need of a partner. A human one. Someone to make appearances with me and make it look convincing. I need the humans to book my hotels more often. You can either help me do that or I can kill you.”

“Gee, so glad you’ve given me so many options here,” you scoff.

“What will it be then?” His hand cards through his long hair but his attention stays on you.

You realize that this may give you an extra in for your article. You could have insider information about what’s going on in these hotels if you agree. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.

“Fine. I agree.” You know the smile on your face probably isn’t as convincing as you want it to be.

“Meet me back here tomorrow night to sign the contract.” Yoongi nods towards the vampires who have been lingering near the door and one of them comes forward to undo your cuffs.

“Perfect.”

“What the hell? You’ve got an entire clause in this thing that says I can’t write any piece of journalism regarding what I see and hear at any time while or after the contract is up? That’s bullshit!” You toss the thick packet of paper back onto his desk.

“I’ll compensate you for any money your magazine would pay you for the article you were going to write about me.” Yoongi says, as if he’s bored to death as he scrolls his phone.

“How much compensation are we talking about here? Because the magazine I’m working for pays pretty decently for pieces like…” Your sentence is cut off by the sound of your phone dinging on the table. You pick it up to see Min Yoongi has deposited $20,000 into your bank account. You choke, almost throwing your phone when you see the number. “You can’t be serious.”

“Now that your compensation is dealt with, is there anything else in the terms you want to discuss?” Namjoon says, steam practically pouring out of his ears. He turns to his boss next. “Or is there any more money you would like to just throw around?”

You glare at Yoongi, his eyes never leaving you as you reach onto the table and pick the packet of papers back up. He smiles, poking the tip of his tongue against one of his fangs.

Flipping through the rest of the contract, it occurs to you that one thing was never mentioned throughout that ridiculously long document.

“There’s nothing about sex in here.” You skim through a few pages again and Namjoon nearly chokes.

“Should there be?” Yoongi says with amusement in his voice.

“I just assumed…”

“If you want me to fuck you, little monster, we don’t need a contract for it. Just say that’s what you want.” He leans over the desk, his elbows resting on it.

“Obviously I don’t.” You cross your legs and pretend to look through the contract more.

“Get out,” Yoongi says, black eyes still staring at you.

“Excuse me?” You’re about to go off before he cuts you off.

“Not you.” He turns his eyes to Namjoon who was apparently pretending there was something more interesting on his phone. “You. Get out of my office.”

“Asshole,” Namjoon mumbles as he shoves his chair back and, quicker than any human ever could, rushes out of the door and leaves it slamming behind him.

“What is your problem? Why did you tell him to leave?”

“My problem is that you’re lying to me. So I’ll give you one last chance to tell the truth. Do you want to be fucked?” He starts to loosen the tie around his neck while standing up slowly from his desk.

“Why do you assume that I want you to fuck me?” Your mouth feels dry as you grip the arms of your chair.

“Does your cunt usually get ridiculously wet when you don’t want to be fucked?” He stops in front of you, the silky black neck tie sliding between his long fingers.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? So if I got my fingers between your legs I wouldn’t find you dripping?”

“It wouldn’t be because of you.” You tighten your jaw and lift your nose slightly into the air in defiance. “Maybe I thought your lawyer was hot.”

Yoongi has never looked more wicked than he does at this moment. It’s like any kind of mask he was wearing to hide the monster has slipped away, his eyes suddenly the color of blood and fangs elongated while he grips the arms of the chair you’re sitting in, crushing them in his hands. The suddenness of it all makes you yelp in surprise.

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to with that smart fucking mouth, little monster.” One of Yoongi’s hands lifts from the rubble of the chair arms so he can drag a finger up your chest. Even without his inhuman abilities, you know he can hear your heart.

You should be terrified. You are terrified. But you should be trying to get away. Fight him off of you. But you just want more. Want him to bend you over his desk and show you the monster he can truly be.

His wandering finger makes its way over your pulse thrumming in your neck, making him groan low and deep in his chest. But he doesn’t stop there; he keeps his torturously slow pace until the finger is resting on your chin just beneath your lips.

“Open,” he demands, the red of his eyes slowly retreating back to their normal dark color.

You decide not to argue this time, parting your lips just enough for him to slip his finger into the hot cavern of your mouth.

“Suck, little monster, like it’s my cock I know you’re dying to choke on.” He presses the long digit against your tongue, tilting his head to the side as he watches your lips wrap around his finger.

You suck gently at first, running your tongue along its length until you can taste the metal of the very expensive ring on his finger. You lift your eyes to meet his, desperate to see how it’s affecting him.

“You can do better, can’t you, beautiful?” His other hand cups your chin and tilts it up more before he pulls his finger from your mouth. “Well?”

You watch as he leans against his desk, spreading his legs slightly as he presses his palms to the top of the dark wood.

It only takes you a moment to realize what he’s suggesting, and then you’re sliding from the leather chair you’re sitting in down to your knees on the floor in front of him. You can tell he’s half hard already when you come face to face with his crotch.

“This doesn’t mean anything.” Your voice sounds strained and unfamiliar. Yoongi smirks, a small laugh slipping out.

“Don’t worry, little monster. Out there you can be my well put together princess. But here, you’re my whore.” He growls the last part, one of his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he watches you undo his belt and zipper.

You hate how hard your pussy clenches at his words. How much you’re craving exactly what you’re getting. It’s stupid. So, so stupid.

Running your hands up his thighs, you slip your fingers into the band of his underwear and pants, sliding them down to free his waiting cock. And of course it’s perfect. His cocky demeanor is well backed up by the size of the dick in your face alone. Your mouth waters.

“There will be plenty of time for you to gawk, but right now you should really start sucking.” His fingers lace into your hair and lightly grip at the back of your head. You roll your eyes at him, but take his cock into your hand anyways.

His skin is cool to the touch but still flushed as you stroke him. A hum of approval comes from above you. You look up again, taking him into your mouth and making sure to hold eye contact as you do.

Your tongue swirls around him while your head bobs slowly up and down his long shaft. His grip in your hair tightens each time you take him a little deeper into your throat.

“Good girl, fuck,” Yoongi groans, grabbing the bottom of his button up shirt and pulling it up to his chest so that he can see everything that you’re doing.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you let your throat relax and take him all the way down until your nose presses against his lower stomach. The groan you receive in return is nothing short of delicious.

“I could tell from the moment I saw you watching Jimin fuck that girl downstairs that you were going to be the sweetest little slut.” He grips your hair hard, making you yelp around his cock. “And I was so fucking right.” Yoongi uses your hair as leverage to start rocking his hips and fucking into your mouth.

This is exactly what you want. You want him to use you and say dirty things. Your pussy has been clenching around nothing and dripping all over your thighs the entire time. You open your mouth as wide as you can and let him corrupt your throat, holding on to the backs of his thighs for dear life.

“How badly do you want my cum, little monster?” His voice is breathy and full of lust.

Unable to answer him with your mouth occupied, you slide your hands up to his ass cheeks and dig your nails in, making him jolt further down your throat. God you want it so badly.

“Fuck, that’s so good. So fucking good.” Yoongi releases his grip on your hair and lets you bob your head up and down him again to finish him off.

You bring a hand around to stroke him in tandem with your mouth, squeezing at the head on each upstroke. You watch above you as his head finally falls back with a loud moan, his hand on the back of your head to hold you down as he cums down your throat.

He didn’t have to hold you there, you were gladly going to take it all, but it’s obvious this vampire loves control. So you continue to suck softly until he’s finished and pulls his cock from your lips.

You take in a deep breath when he releases you, falling forward slightly but catching yourself on your hands.

“Let me see,” Yoongi grumbles.

“See what?” you say, out of breath. He doesn’t answer, simply grabs your chin and yanks you back up to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he demands and you obey. “Good girl. I like to see that it’s all been swallowed down your perfect throat.” He releases your chin, extending his hand for you to take to help you up.

As you stand on wobbly legs, you’re surprised by the sudden gentleness from the man who was fucking your throat raw just moments ago. Yoongi helps you straighten your clothes and then moves on to his own, fixing his pants back into place as if the whole thing hadn’t just happened.

“Are you going to put sex in the contract now?” you ask, genuinely curious. Yoongi laughs quietly as he rounds the other side of his desk.

“If you’d prefer it be in writing I can have Namjoon add it in.”

“That…might be best.” You don’t know why. Maybe to give yourself the illusion that this isn’t something you’re more than willing to do.

“As you wish.” He sits back in his chair and watches as you head for his door. “And little monster?”

“Yes?” You almost jump at the sound of his voice again.

“A member of my staff will be taking you shopping and helping you get settled into my penthouse in the next few days.”

“Your penthouse? I don’t remember living together being in the contract.”

“We have to make this as believable as possible. And I want to keep you close.” He opens his laptop, ignoring the surprised look on your face.

“Possessive much?” You glare at him, arms crossing over your chest. He hums with a smirk.

“Only when it comes to things that are mine.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and in that moment you aren’t sure if it’s out of lust or fear.

You don’t respond further, slipping out of his office so that you can breathe again.

“Was all of this truly necessary?” you ask.

“Yoongi said you were to get everything you wanted.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders as he types into his phone.

Jungkook had come to your hotel room three days after you’d left Yoongi’s office. He’s apparently Yoongi’s assistant, and lucky for you, is much friendlier than his boss. He had other staff collect your things from your room and take them to Yoongi’s penthouse before rushing you out the door to shop.

“Yes, but you literally bought everything I even glanced at twice.” There are bags covering the entire floor of the elevator you’re riding up in, and the hotel attendants will be bringing tons more up from the car.

“Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy being the spoiled brat that you are for a few months,” Jungkook teases, making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the very top floor of the hotel. Your stomach twists as the thought of living here with Yoongi finally dawns on you. This is a ridiculous idea.

“Welcome home!” Jungkook shouts, scaring you for a moment.

You step out into the entryway of the penthouse, immediately overwhelmed by the beautiful set up. The entire far wall is windows, of course: it wouldn’t be a penthouse without ceiling to floor windows. But the way the sun is setting outside is breathtaking to see from this high up.

You move a little further inside, taking in the black leather couches and oversized fireplace in the living room area. Fur carpets cover the dark wood floors and abstract pieces of art sit on almost every table.

It’s an open concept, the kitchen taking up the other half of the first floor. Though you aren’t sure why a vampire would need a kitchen with their…special diet. It has lights that drop down low from the ceiling and a huge island with tons of seating. Does Min Yoongi enjoy entertaining guests? You can barely imagine it.

“Boss should be back soon. Want me to wait with you?” Jungkook says, still typing away into his phone. He’s rather sweet for a vampire.

“I’ll be fine, Jungkook.” You give him a small smile as you wrap your arms around yourself. “And thank you for today.”

“My pleasure. You’ve got my number, anything you need just give me a call.” He looks up at you, then inhumanly fast is out the door. How will you ever get used to that?

You decide to look a little closer at the kitchen, letting your fingertips ghost over the black marble countertops. Making your way to the fridge, you open its huge doors to find it fully stocked with food.

“What the fuck?” you mumble to yourself. Why did he need all of this food?

Before you close the doors, a bottle of wine on the top shelf catches your eye and you grab it before spinning around to face the kitchen island and search for a corkscrew.

What you don’t expect to see is Min Yoongi standing on the other side of the island, watching you carefully.

“Holy shit!” you screech, your heart lurching in your chest. “Can you please make some noise when you enter a room? Jesus.”

“Making yourself at home, little monster?” He smirks, likely loving the fact that you almost had a heart attack.

“I was just looking around.” You sit the bottle of wine down and lean over the counter, resting your elbows on the marble. “Is that okay?” You know that your cleavage is pushed up by the way you're bent over and you definitely did it on purpose.

“You’re welcome to look around.” He drums his long fingers against the countertop. “I’ve got nothing to hide from you.” You scoff.

“No bodies hidden in the closets? A coffin in your bedroom perhaps?” You reach up and carefully take a wine glass down from the rack hanging above the kitchen island.

“This isn’t the dark ages, little monster. The sun being a problem for vampires is something of the past.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the chair next to him.

“It seems vampires evolve very quickly.” You say it casually, hoping he will spill information that most humans don’t know; information that you can use when you write an article exposing everything about them.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” He loosens his tie while slowly stalking towards you around the counter.

“It’s my job to be curious.” You try to pretend that him coming closer doesn’t affect you by pouring the wine into the glass you retrieved.

“Do you think you’re going to find a loophole in my contract? Something that would allow you to write your article? Foolish…” Yoongi wraps his tie around his palm and continues his slow movements towards you. Your stomach tightens, wondering when he’s going to get sick of you and kill you where you stand.

“We don’t need to talk about the article. It’s obviously not happening.” You take a drink, the sweet white liquid enticing your taste buds.

“Your heart gives you away.”

“What?” You’re taken aback by his words, taking them in a way he didn’t mean.

“It’s picked up speed. Almost a thrum. You’re lying…but that’s okay. You want to be brave, then go ahead. But I’m not your enemy, little monster.” He moves too quickly for a moment, coming too close all at once, causing you to drop your wine glass on the floor.

The glass shatters against the tile floor, the wine spreading out and filling into the space between the tiles. You don’t even think about your next move, bending down and immediately starting to pick up the shards of glass.

“Sorry…” you start to say, nicking your palm on a piece of glass in your rush to scoop them up. “Fuck, that hurts. Could you hand me a rag?” You don’t look up at first, but when Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you get impatient.

What you see is the monster you know you shouldn’t want so desperately.

His eyes are red and raging as he grips the counter top with one of his hands, the marble starting to crumble between his fingers.

“Get the fuck up.” Yoongi struggles but manages to get the words out between gritted teeth.

“What?” You scoot back across the floor, trying to put space between you. You watch as his hands shove into his hair, pulling at the long black strands as he makes pained groaning noises at the floor.

With that inhuman speed, Yoongi leans down and grabs your wrist, blood still leaking from the cut on your palm. The grip on your wrist is so hard you’re afraid he might break your bones.

“Yoongi, you’re hurting me. Let go,” you practically whimper as he drags you up from the floor and shoves you against the side of the island. “Stop. Please don’t…”

You know that if he wanted to kill you, he would have by now. He could have drained you dry and no one would ever know to even look for you here. But the fear makes you feel alive. It makes your heart hammer and your pussy clench. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Yoongi grabs your wrist again, making you yelp in surprise. He stares at it for a moment, intently watching your blood slide down your skin. He closes his eyes before making his final decision.

You decide to close your eyes too, not sure if you want to see what could happen next.

To your surprise, what you feel is the warm, wet muscle of his tongue licking along the inside of your wrist up to your palm. Your eyes shoot open immediately, meeting his ruby colored orbs.

“I want to kill you,” he whispers against the skin of your wrist, lapping at the blood once more.

“I know,” you whisper back.

“Why does that make your pussy wet, little monster?” He smiles wickedly before his lips attach to the cut on your palm, sucking gently. You can’t help the moan that slips past your lips as you watch your blood coat his mouth and run down his chin.

“I…I don’t know.” You reach out with your other hand to grab onto his shirt and anchor yourself to something.

“All of that insolence seems to disappear when your pussy is getting what it wants.” He licks one more long stripe up your wrist before he pulls away, his eyes in the beginning stages of returning to their normal dark.

“You haven’t given me anything that I want.” You yank your wrist out of his hold, rubbing at the bruise marks already appearing. Yoongi rolls his eyes, grasping your shoulders and turning you around to walk you towards the sink. He turns on the water and motions for you to put your hand underneath it.

You turn your back to him, washing your hand under the warm water until it seems to stop bleeding heavily. You start to reach for a towel before you feel his chest against your back, his arms suddenly caging you against the counter in front of the sink.

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you want then, hm?” His breath against your ear sends a shiver down your spine. “I can smell every bit of desire between your legs.” His knee comes up between your legs, making you brace yourself on the counter at the sudden pressure he’s putting against your pussy.

“Touch me…and don’t stop.” Your body shakes in anticipation. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, his tongue finding the lobe.

“You’ll take what I give you…and you’ll be fucking grateful.” His sharp fangs nip at your ear and cause your ass to press harder into his crotch. You don’t care what he wants to give you at this point, you’re too desperate.

“Please,” you whine.

“I’m feeling benevolent this evening…you sucked my cock so well the other day that I may even let you cum.” He presses his cock against your ass before pulling away from you all together.

“Asshole.” You scowl as you turn around to face him. Yoongi merely looks amused.

“I’m still hungry, little monster. Get on the counter.” He pats the marble top with his hand while he undoes the top few buttons of his shirt with the other.

“Why?”

“Are you always going to ask so many questions or are you just going to fucking listen?” He cards a hand through his long raven colored hair and sighs, drenched in annoyance.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, walking towards him where he stands by the kitchen island. Before you even have a chance to call him more names, he’s grabbing you by the hips and practically tossing you onto the counter. “Fuck, Yoongi, can you try not to break me?”

“Where's the fun in that?” He smirks, coming to stand between your thighs, your face just above his from this height. “I think you may even beg me for it.” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as he watches your face.

You want to reach up and push some of the stray hairs away from his face. But that would mean you have some kind of affection towards this vampire and you can’t let that happen. It’s almost painful to keep your hands at your sides.

“Get on with it then.” Your lips just barely ghost his when you speak, yet another thing you have to keep yourself from wanting.

Too quickly, your back is suddenly pressed against the cold marble countertop when Yoongi grabs your thighs and pulls your ass to the edge. You yelp when his lips press to the inside of your thigh.

“Maybe the human men you’ve slept with like that smart mouth of yours, little monster.” He shoves your skirt up over your hips, long fingers immediately finding your slit over your panties. “But me? It makes me want to devour you.”

You moan and don’t hold back the sound, shivering when you feel his fangs pressing against your skin. He sucks a trail up your thigh, leaving small blossoms in his wake. When you feel his tongue languidly slide over the outside of your panties, you almost come undone right there.

“Please don’t tease me anymore. I’m so wet already.” He licks at you again before raising his head to look at you.

“Be a good girl and take what I give you.” His hand reaches between your thighs and, with no effort at all, rips your underwear from your body in a single motion.

You don’t have time to be snarky again before his face is buried in your pussy. Your back arches off the counter, fingers gripping at the marble to no avail.

The long muscle of his tongue swirls around your clit before expertly diving back down inside you, licking up every bit of wetness that leaks from you. The world feels as if it’s tilting on its axis, that feeling of falling clouding your mind when you start to feel the urge to cum after such a short period of time.

“You’re going to give me at least three, so stop holding back and let me have what’s mine.” The rough grumble of his voice vibrates straight to your core as the pad of his thumb strokes your clit and his tongue disappears back inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as your first orgasm wracks through you like a hurricane on a path of destruction with no end in sight.

“Your cum tastes almost as good as your blood, little monster. Again.” His long fingers slide inside you easily as your body shakes from being over-sensitive.

“Feels so good.” Your hands take on a mind of their own and make their way into the long, messy strands of his hair, gripping at the roots and pulling him closer.

“Greedy.” Yoongi sucks harshly on your clit, letting it pop from between his lips before he soothes it with his tongue.

“Asshole,” you moan, feeling your second orgasm hurtling towards you. Yoongi laughs quietly against the inside of your thigh.

“You like the pain. Stop pretending that you don’t.” He nips at your skin with his fangs, making you flinch. “You just gushed on my tongue.”

“I can’t go again, Yoongi. I need to stop.” You can feel sweat dripping from your forehead, your skin hot to the touch.

“You can and you will.” His arms wrap tightly around your thighs and yank you back to the edge of the counter, your sweaty skin squeaking across the surface.

Your body is telling you to scream. The pleasure and the discomfort are dancing a fine line and your head is absolutely swimming. You begin to think that you may not live through this when his mouth is back on your abused pussy.

Yoongi throws your legs over his shoulders and licks deeper than he had been before, the bottom half of his face drenched in everything leaking from you through the past two orgasms.

“Bite me,” you beg. You know if he bites you that it will intensify everything you feel, but also bring the possibility that the monster consuming your pussy kills you.

Yoongi practically rips himself from you, his breathing ragged and rushed.

“Don’t ask for things that you don’t understand.” His long fingers find your swollen clit while the other hand swipes across his mouth.

“Please…please I can’t cum again without it.” Tears start to slip down your face.

“I could kill you. It would be so fucking easy.” His eyes start to turn red, the crimson bleeding into his dark irises.

“It’s worth the risk, isn’t it? Please…” You’re so desperate you have no idea what you’re saying. Yoongi scoffs.

“You really are a little monster, aren’t you?” Yoongi smiles, his fangs elongating. Your heart beats so fast, somewhat with fear but mostly with the anticipation of what you’ll feel when he bites you.

In a flash, the vampire between legs is sinking his teeth into the inside of your thigh. You gasp, all the air leaving your lungs as your eyes fly open, the light fixtures on the ceiling blurring. You grab at your breasts when a sudden flood of heat starts to spread through your entire body.

Your body jolts when Yoongi takes the first long drag of your blood into his mouth. He moans at the taste, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold.

Another long pull of blood floods into his mouth and you start to see stars. Yoongi moves one hand back to your pussy, his fingers gathering wetness and spreading it up to your swollen clit.

“Yoongi…” You’re so light headed you aren’t sure if you can keep your eyes open much longer. Yoongi rips his mouth from your thigh, his chest heaving, blood dripping off his chin and down his neck where it stains the white collar of his shirt.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well, baby.” He pushes you back further onto the counter before climbing onto it himself.

You can feel the warmth of your blood coating your skin on your thigh, but the only other thing you’re desperately aware of is him. Him and the way he rips your dress off your body as if it wasn’t extremely expensive and brand new.

“I’m so close.” Everything between your legs aches but your greedy body still wants more.

“I’m going to keep you, little monster. You’re mine now.” He licks the inside of your thigh, dragging his tongue through the blood. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you sigh, his fingers gathering up the blood on your skin and spreading over one of your breasts.

“I’ll make you cum now, little monster. Good girls get what they need.” His sinful mouth attaches to your breast, licking and sucking the blood.

You arch up from the counter top, pushing your breast further into his mouth and spreading your legs wider when his fingers make their way back inside you, petting your walls and stroking your g-spot until he’s making you cum again.

Your cheeks are wet from tears and your body is weak from losing blood and orgasming a ridiculous amount of times. But somehow you manage to sit up on your elbows when Yoongi slides back off of the counter, wiping his mouth and licking his fingers clean of your juices and blood.

“You’re quite divine, even if you constantly test my patience.” He puts a hand out for you to take. When you do, he helps you down from the counter. “Let’s shower.”

“You want to shower with me?” Your legs wobble as you stand and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“I need to make sure you don’t collapse while you’re in there. Don’t overthink it.” He looks around at the floor still covered in glass and the countertop covered in your blood. “I’ll have someone clean this up while we get you cleaned up.”

“Is it a normal occurrence for the cleaning staff to casually clean up blood?” You stumble a bit when you try to take a step. Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“So many questions.”

“You could’ve picked any human to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure there are plenty of them that wouldn’t ask questions.” You take another wobbly step. Yoongi sighs behind you, moving too fast for your eyes as he scoops you up into his arms. Your eyes have no time to adjust before you’re in the bathroom.

“Don’t make me regret that decision, little monster,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, carefully sitting you down onto a chaise lounge chair.

“Why is this here?” you ask, hands sliding over the soft material.

“Perhaps I’ll show you some time.” He smiles wickedly, turning away from you to turn on the water inside the giant shower. Water pours down like a waterfall from the ceiling.

You take a moment to appreciate the incredible shower before your eyes find Yoongi again, his fingers still stained with your blood nimbly beginning to unbutton his shirt and revealing the smooth planes of his chest and stomach. It’s the first time you’ve really had a moment to appreciate the details of his body.

Your eyes fall on the crotch of his pants, still tented and tight.

“Do you want me to…” you motion towards his obvious hard on.

“No. Not tonight.” He holds out his hand for yours again. “Come here.” You let him wrap his fingers around yours, helping you to your feet. He makes sure that you’re steady before walking you into the shower.

Yoongi stands back, watching you walk under the steaming waterfall and removing his pants as he does. He commits the shape of your body to memory, eager to continue defiling it every chance that he gets.

You don’t hear him approach, your skin merely explodes in goosebumps when the cool skin of his hands and arms wraps around your torso from behind you. His face finds the crook of your neck, lips seeking out your throat and up to your jaw. It’s surprisingly…soft.

“Does it hurt?” he murmurs against your ear, fingers ghosting at your lower stomach. Cool lips kiss your shoulder.

“Just sore.” You turn your head and meet his eyes when he lifts his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Looking at him in that moment makes you suddenly realize that you’ve never kissed Yoongi. Maybe he wants it that way. Kissing is intimate and this is supposed to be an arrangement with no feelings involved.

He looks at you a moment longer before he clears his throat, his arms leaving your body as he kneels down in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen.

“Relax, little monster. I’m going to make it better. Hold onto my shoulders.” He waits until you do as he asks before he carefully lifts your legs, turning your inner thigh towards his face.

Blood still slowly seeps from the puncture wounds he left behind, bruises forming around them. Yoongi looks up to meet your eyes once more, holding them as he sticks out his tongue and presses it to your thigh, swiping up the blood before he drags it over the punctures.

Shivering at the feeling, you watch as the bite marks seal themselves closed and the bruising quickly fades from your skin. It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

“That trick must get a lot of attention at parties.” You try to laugh at your own joke, but you’re honestly so taken aback by what just happened in front of you. Yoongi smiles, a real one that you aren’t sure you’ve seen until now.

“Vampire venom has healing properties. I’m not a fan of the idea of you being uncomfortable in any way.” He presses a kiss to your thigh, then stands from the shower floor.

He helps you wash your body and hair, rubbing your scalp and shoulders until you almost fall asleep standing up.

“Come to bed.” You suddenly realize that you’re no longer in the shower, but in Yoongi’s bedroom, a fluffy black towel wrapped around your body.

“Why am I in your room?” you ask, confused.

“Because you’re sleeping in my bed. With me.” He throws back the comforter and pats the mattress. “In the bed, little monster.”

“Why am I sleeping in here? Surely you have spare rooms in this ridiculously big penthouse.” The idea of Yoongi wanting you to sleep in bed with him feels strange.

“Of course there are, but you’re staying in my room. Stop asking questions for the night, I beg you.” He rubs his temple as he walks towards his closet, reappearing a literal second later with sleep pants on. “Sleep in this if you want.” He tosses a tshirt towards you and you barely manage to catch it.

“But I don’t…” you start to protest again and Yoongi is suddenly in front of you, his hand covering your mouth.

“I want you to sleep in here. You’re mine and that’s all the explanation I’ll be giving you. No. More. Questions.” When you nod in understanding, he slowly moves his hand down and holds your jaw. “Get into bed.”

You nod again and he releases you, walking around to the other side of the bed. Yoongi settles with his back against the headboard, watching as you drop your towel and slip on the T-shirt he had given you.

“Are all vampires as possessive as you?” You glare at him playfully as you climb into the bed.

“What did I just say about questions, _____?” He throws his hands up in the air.

“Fine. Goodnight.” You dramatically grab the comforter and pull it over you, turning to face away from him. You hear him laugh quietly before the bed shifts once more and sleep grabs hold of you faster than it ever has.

Weeks go by.

The arrangement becomes easier and easier to do.

Yoongi brings you to parties and meetings and formal dances, dressing you up in the most gorgeous and expensive outfits. He gets you anything that you want and all you have to do is talk about how amazing he is to all of his human investors and guests.

He keeps you close, doesn’t let you wander too far. His cool hand is always at the small of your back.

The possessiveness is something you thought you would find annoying. He explained it’s just in a vampire's nature to be that way. But it’s easy to just let it happen when deep down, you love it.

God there really is something wrong with you.

Yoongi being possessive, however, is not the biggest problem you’ve had over the last few weeks. The problem is that he refuses to fuck you.

There’s plenty of other things to keep the edge off. Using his mouth to possess you in an entirely different way. He buries his face between your legs every chance that he gets. In his office…on top of his desk…in every dark corner he can find. You repay the favor when he lets you, letting him use your throat as his own personal fuck toy. But it isn’t enough, and he brushes you off every time you try to bring it up.

Tonight is an extremely important night. Yoongi is throwing a party to celebrate the grand opening of his newest hotel. There will be hundreds of people in attendance that need to be impressed.

“Are you almost ready?” Yoongi’s deep voice startles you as you stand in front of the vanity mirror in his bathroom.

“Just finishing up.” You pop in your second very large emerald earring before picking up the matching necklace. It’s the heaviest piece of jewelry you’ve ever felt.

“Can I help with that?” He comes to stand behind you, holding out his hand for the necklace.

“Thanks.” You carefully place it in his palm and turn back to the mirror, watching his face intently.

“You understand how important this night is, don’t you?” His breath tickles the back of your neck as he speaks. “How badly I need it to go well?”

“I know.” His eyes meet yours in the mirror as he carefully brings the chain around your throat.

“Good girl.” His lips meet your shoulder, pressing a too-soft kiss to your already heated skin.

“You’re going to have to talk eventually.” Your eyes fall shut when his hands come around and cup your breasts from behind.

“I find it amusing that you think I owe you any kind of explanation for what I do or don’t do to you, little monster.” He pinches your nipples through the thin material of your dress, making you hiss through your teeth and lean further into him.

“Just tell me why you won’t fuck me, Yoongi. It’s been weeks.” You grind your ass against his growing erection.

“We’ll discuss this later. The car is waiting downstairs.” A scrape of his fangs across your shoulder before the feeling of his body against your back is gone.

“Asshole,” you grumble, straightening your dress and smoothing any hair that may have moved out of place.

He waits for you at the top of the stairs, offering his hand to help you walk down them in your heels. You brush past him, taking on the challenge unassisted and making Yoongi scoff.

The universe has other plans for you though, not allowing you even a single moment of holding your head up high before you trip on the edge of one of the stairs. It happens so quickly that you don’t even have time to make a sound.

There are arms abruptly wrapped around you, too quick for your human eyes to make sense of. The next thing you know, your back is being shoved against the railing, bent, with a vampire looming over you, his nose pressing to yours while his lips ghost just above you.

“Do you have a death wish, little monster?” Yoongi whispers, his hold on you tightening.

“I’m sorry…that was so…” You can’t think straight, let alone comprehend what just happened.

“Stupid? Yes, so very stupid.” One of his hands leaves your back and makes its way into your hair, pulling the strands to make you look up at him. “Do not ever endanger yourself that way again. I can’t be around all the time to keep you alive.”

“Okay.” You nod, lips brushing his in the motion. You shudder at their cool sensation. But when you move to try and kiss him, he immediately pulls back.

“Come on. We’re late.” When he offers his hand this time, you take it, letting him usher you into the penthouse elevator and down to the lobby. His bodyguards get the two of you into the car in a blur.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word in the car. He doesn’t even look at you the entire way to the new hotel. It’s fucking infuriating.

Once inside the hotel, you immediately grab a glass of champagne off of a passing tray, downing it quickly before you feel the familiar pressure of Yoongi’s hand on your lower back.

“Easy, little monster,” he says lowly. You roll your eyes, plastering on a fake smile and joining him to talk to some very rich humans.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” A tall man in a pristine suit and glasses says when you join them. He is incredibly handsome.

“Taehyung, this is my girlfriend, Y\N. Y/N, Kim Taehyung. He’s giving me a hard time about investing in my hotels.” Yoongi’s fingers gently stroke your bare back exposed from your dress.

“Girlfriend? A human?” Taehyung asks curiously.

“100% human,” you laugh, nervously gesturing towards yourself.

“Wouldn’t have imagined such a pairing. Especially for you, Yoongi.” Taehyung sips his whiskey, his eyes staying on you even as he speaks to Yoongi. You’re too busy trying to laugh at everything he says to notice the way Yoongi’s jaw tightens.

“Yes, well, sometimes humans can be rather surprising. Tolerable even.” Yoongi looks at Taehyung like he wants to drain him, while everyone else standing there laughs at what Yoongi has said.

“Indeed.” Taehyung sips his whiskey again.

“We should make our rounds, baby.” Yoongi runs his finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Come,” he whispers, only loud enough for you to hear. You bite your bottom lip, nodding as you thread your fingers through his.

“I hope to see you again soon, _____,” Taehyung calls from behind the two of you. Yoongi starts to turn around but you pull him back.

“Don’t. He’s trying to get under your skin.”

“I could snap his neck…sever his throat…” Yoongi loosens his tie a little, pulling your hand to continue walking towards the outdoor balcony.

“You need him, don’t you? Just think about that.”

“He makes the best gambling games in the damn country, of course I need him.” He runs a hand through his long hair, the strands of it even longer now than they were when you had first met him all those weeks ago.

“So let it go,” you sigh, releasing his hand when the two of you are alone outside. “I don’t know why you care anyways.”

“I didn’t say I cared.”

“You were acting like a jealous prick back there. Seems like you might care a little.” You fold your arms over your chest, cool night air chilling your skin.

“I don’t, you ridiculously infuriating woman,” he half-laughs, pressing his palms to the stone wall that overlooks the hotel courtyard.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care about you either.” You’re practically pouting but you don’t care.

He groans, his fingers cracking the stone beneath them. You want to close the distance between the two of you, touch his chin and make him look at you.

“Why is it so hard for you to say?” you ask quietly.

“We’re talking about feelings here, little monster. I don’t do feelings,” he lies. You roll your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll go see if Taehyung wants to spin me around the dance floor a few…” you start to say, heading towards the door. You’re cut off by Yoongi grabbing the back of your neck and spinning you back around to face him. Your body presses to his, molding to the shape.

“You. Are. Mine,” he practically growls, a deep snarl on his face as he tries to keep the monster at bay.

But you aren’t afraid.

“Then act like it. Show me that you want me or let me walk away.” Your breaths come out rushed and uneven as the two of you stand there, nose to nose.

He thinks for a moment. Almost too long. But then he smirks, his grip on the back of your neck softening slightly.

“You’re not getting away that easily, little monster.” And then his mouth is crashing against yours, consuming, devouring.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to kiss Yoongi for weeks. You knew that you shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what he tasted like or how his lips felt.

The way he kisses you now is so incredibly unexpected, you have to remind yourself what planet you’re on.

It only takes a moment for you to respond, pulling him closer and molding your mouth to his, filling in the spaces with your tongues. It’s when your fingers find their way into his hair that you really begin to grasp that there’s no coming back from this. There’s no more pretending.

Your thoughts are shaken when his hands travel to the backs of your thighs, lifting you onto the stone wall of the balcony. You grip him tighter, afraid to look behind you and see the ground looming below.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t afraid of heights are you, little monster?” he teases, shoving himself between your legs and scooting you even closer to the edge of the wall.

“Anyone would be afraid of a two story drop.” You try to capture his lips again, anything to stop thinking about the possibility of falling, but he pulls back just enough to keep you wanting.

“As if I’d let you fall.” Yoongi whispers the words so quietly you barely hear them, his eyes staying on your lips.

“Maybe I already am.” You feel him stiffen, his body going rigid at your words.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Stupid, stupid girl,” he sighs. “There’s too much good in you…too much humanity for you to be talking that way.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

He stares at you for what seems like hours, gauging what could really be going through that head of yours. Then he gently kisses you again, melting away any facade either of you were trying to keep playing.

“We’re leaving,” he says after a moment of soft kisses.

“But we just got here. What about all the schmoozing we need to be doing?”

“Screw the schmoozing. I want to fuck you.” He takes one of your hands and brings it between your bodies, helping you to cup his hardening dick through his pants. “This is what you want, isn’t it, little monster? So desperate to be filled with cock.”

You whimper, licking the seam of his lips with your tongue as you palm his cock, thoughts of literally anyone who looks out the window seeing the two of you out here turning you on even more.

“Take me home, please.” You’re no longer above begging.

“I’m going to leave you in ruins.” Yoongi means for it to be a threat, something to deter you from wanting this, but it only makes you wetter. The thrill and the danger and the possibility of devastation that making this choice could cause only make you want it more.

Yoongi grabs your wrist, walking with determination until you’re back inside the party where Namjoon immediately sees the two of you making your way through the crowd.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? There’s people looking for you.” Namjoon steps in front of Yoongi but it doesn’t stop him from his mission to get to the front door.

“Tell them I’m sick.” Yoongi opens the door, presses a kiss to the top of your hand and guides you outside. You can’t help the ridiculous smile that finds its way onto your face.

“Vampires don’t get sick.” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you really going to do this to me?”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Yoongi guides you down the front steps of the hotel, your eyes landing on Jungkook at the bottom, leaning against the car and playing a game on his phone.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks, panic crossing his usually soft features.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We just need the car.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly while Yoongi opens the door for you to settle into the passenger seat. You’re about to grab your seatbelt when he leans down into the car and kisses you. “What was that for?”

“It may be the last bit of sweetness you get from me tonight. Enjoy it while you can.” His teeth nip at your bottom lip.

“Who said I enjoy sweetness?” You make sure he sees the way you make your dress ride up your thighs. Yoongi groans.

“Perfect little monster,” he coos, taking one last look at your exposed thighs before he shuts the car door. You watch as Yoongi brushes off Jungkook and Namjoon’s protests of him leaving this important party and gets into the driver's seat.

His long fingers grip the steering wheel tightly as he immediately punches the gas. And while you’re not afraid of the vampire sitting next to you, his driving is an entirely different story.

Luckily the drive back to the main hotel is short and you find yourself pressed to the wall of the elevator before you can even think of scolding Yoongi for his driving.

“I’ve pictured thousands of ways I’ve wanted to fuck you.” He hikes your leg over his hip. “But this is going to be quick.”

The elevator dings for the penthouse floor and with his inhuman speed, Yoongi moves you into the entry way and through the apartment, his mouth devouring yours as he deposits you onto his bed.

“No foreplay. Please just fuck me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he licks down the column of your throat.

“Are you ready for me already?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Yes.” You take his hand and move it between your legs, your dress bunching around your hips as you push it out of the way.

Yoongi takes your hint, his fingers delving into your underwear to find your soaking pussy. He groans, pushing his fingers inside to pet your walls.

“So you are.” He sits up on his knees between your legs, throwing his suit jacket off of his shoulders and tossing it across the room.

You sit up on your elbows, watching intently as he undoes the buttons of shirt and reveals the beautiful skin of his chest and stomach. The muscles are there, but he’s also unexpectedly soft as your fingers explore the planes.

You help him the rest of the way out of his shirt, leaning up further to kiss his chest. His hands grip your hair but he doesn’t move you away, letting you traverse his skin with your lips and tongue for a moment.

“Get this off of me.” You start to reach behind you for the zipper of the dress but Yoongi has other ideas.

He reaches down and grabs your hips, flipping your body over so that you’re on your stomach and face down on the bed.

“Allow me.” His mouth is on the exposed skin of your back, kissing a wet path down your spine as he unzips the dress. You can’t help the moan that escapes you, or the way your hips push back to try and find friction. “Greedy,” he mumbles against the small of your back.

“Please, Yoongi. Just hurry up.” You slide the sleeves off of your arms so that Yoongi can pull the dress the rest of the way off. It must’ve been expensive, but he still tosses it to the floor.

When you try to roll back over onto your back, he grabs your hips and holds you in place.

“No, I think I’ll have you just like this.” You hear him take off his belt and the mattress move slightly when he removes his pants. “Hold onto something, little monster.”

There’s no time to protest; you barely have time to grab the comforter before he’s sheathing his cock inside you in one fluid motion. You fall forward on your elbows, your face meeting the bed as you cry out from the intrusion.

“Fuck…” you whine, tightening your hold on the comforter as he starts to rock his hips, burying himself to hilt each time he pumps back into you.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? So desperate for cock that you’d let a vampire defile you.” His hands hold so tightly to your hips that you know there will be bruises immediately.

“Yes, I wanted it so bad.” You can feel drool begin to form at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you harder.

“Just remember, little monster, out there you’re the perfect princess for the public to see. But in here, in my bed, you’re my good little whore.” He thrusts particularly hard on the last word, shoving your top half flat against the bed when your arms give out.

“Yoongi…” It barely comes out a whisper, but you know he hears you.

“Come here,” he grunts, leaning over your body and wrapping his arms around your torso, pulling you up to press your back to his chest, his cock staying nestled inside you as he adjusts you the way he wants.

His thrusts stay deep, but slow down slightly. One hand grips your breast while the other spreads your legs wider over his lap.

“I’m going to cum…fuck I’m so close.” Your head flops back and rests on his shoulder, sweat coating your skin.

“You’re lucky that I want to feel this pretty pussy squeeze my cock, little monster. I’m going to let you cum.” Rough fingers find your clit, sloppy circles sending you into a frenzy as you chase your orgasm.

“Right there, yes yes, right there.” Your thighs start to shake as Yoongi pulls you down further on his cock, holding you there as you come apart, squeezing his cock just like he wanted.

“Good girl. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” He swipes your hair away from your shoulder and suddenly sinks his fangs into your throat.

His bite only elongates your orgasm…it could have been two, maybe even three orgasms all chained together. Your sight blurs at the sheer force of the climax that rolls through you.

You’re barely coherent when you feel Yoongi release inside you, hot spurts filling you up and leaking down your thighs. He moans against your neck, taking two more long pulls of blood before he pulls off, hungrily licking at the trails of blood that trickle down your throat.

Your body is completely spent as Yoongi gently lowers you onto the bed, covering you with the comforter before he gets up off the bed.

You watch with hooded eyes as he goes into his bathroom and comes back with a cloth to clean you up.

“Let me see the mess you made, baby.” He moves the covers off of your legs and cleans you up, making you whine at the contact of anything touching you there so soon. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” You snuggle deeper into the covers.

“We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.” You feel him join you in the bed.

“Talk about what?” Your eyes are too heavy to stay open.

“The contract.” His cool body presses against your back and his arm falls over your waist.

“What about it?” you mumble.

“The next phase of it, of course.” You feel his finger swipe at the blood still on your neck, popping it into his mouth.

“Phase?”

“Engagement.”

#bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #btswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtantheatrenet #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #suga fic #bts fic #bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #vampire yoongi

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sthavoc · 3 months

Note

omg hello!! I was wondering if u could do an author x enzo fic? she is a well published romance author and they ask her where she gets her inspiration while she’s doing book press etc etc thank uuuuuu 🩵🩵

─📚𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x author!fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: enzo teasing you after founding out he’s your inspiration for your romantic writing.

·˚ ༘ warnings: fluff, romantic teasing, cringey dialogue (idk if it is, just in case)

·˚ ༘ note: no worries! this is such a cute idea <3

There was a question. One that every single one of your fans would ask themselves. How would you get so much inspiration? It is considered for an author to get writer's block at any point in their career. But for you? For you is as if the ideas came like water. Water that readily spilled and nothing would be able to stop it. Not even a bucket.

You found yourself at your local bookstore doing a book press. The room was replenished with people around as they paid attention to you speaking and answering some of the questions that they had. Some being of the characters like, how do you find your ways to portray them? and see their future? Or the most famous—

“Where do you get your inspiration?”

You weren’t foolproof if you wanted to answer the question. But you didn’t want to leave the fans hanging either, it was dubious. Having the mic resting just a few inches away from your lips, made an apprehensive chuckle facade your lips, you did nothing but turn your head and look behind you. Enzo stayed seated on the chair that was behind the desk, and where you had your items waiting for you as well. Everyone lingered for an answer, an answer that you'll give.

“Well… It comes from everywhere really.” You sighed, in an endeavor to stumble upon the words that wouldn’t leave your insolence. “It usually comes to me when I’m at home, with my boyfriend. We could be having a conversation and the ideas just rush through me—” Your hand moves in a circular motion in front of you. “But sometimes I just write what the two of us do. You could say he’s sort of.. my muse.” You finalized.

The room emitted a few “Aws” that had you wanting to hide your face from the embarrassment. The feeling of the heat climbing from your neck to your cheeks, and you, wanting to quickly get rid of it.

The book press continued until it came to an end. Enzo and you had gone home and were cordially greeted by your cat who rubbed her fuzzy tail on you and Enzo’s feet. The warmness of the house struck you like a pillow that would narrowly knock you over for you to get to bed. You felt cozy and relaxed when you sat on the couch waiting for Enzo to join you.

“¿Pesado?” He asked. In reference, to your day. He sat with you on the couch after placing the cat on the ground again. His hand caught up with yours to give it a gentle kiss of fondness.

“Ni te imaginas.” You giggled, placing your middle and index finger on your temple ready to give it a light massage.

“¿Queres que te prepare algo?” Enzo appeals, continuing to rub your hand. You felt the warmness of his hand against the coldness of yours. Something usual between the two of you, even on cold days. Enzo would always manage to keep his body temperature warm.

You shook your head while you got closer to him, trying to hug him. “No, solo quiero estar aquí contigo.”

And that’s how it remained. With Enzo and you lying closely on your couch, with his strong arms wrapped around you, and your small kitty lying down on the rug that was placed under the coffee table. A moment that you loved. The company of the person you loved next to you, and the company of your small being with the both of you in the room. Your eyes were shut, feeling the truce that served the room every time you were with Enzo. Until you heard his chuckle.

“¿Qué pasa?” You stayed in your spot. You felt how he played with the small braid that was a part of your hairstyle, and also, catching a glimpse of how his hand moved with the action.

“Nada, es solo lo que dijiste hoy.” His voice was so low that when he spoke, it rasped.

You rosed from your position confused by his words. Not recollecting what you could have said, after a session of numerous questions and answers. “¿De que?”

“Pues—” He hauls on the syllable not stopping his play with the strand of your hair. “Que soy tu inspiración.” He grants you a smirk that you knew was coming with teasing.

“Y por esto no quería decir nada.” You spoke to him with a toothy smile, wanting to get up but Enzo was quick. He grasps your arm softly.

“Ay, no chiquita. Es que me halagas.” He cracks up as you push him away in a delicate mode. You didn’t want to hurt him. “Todo lo que escribes es por mí.” He covers his mouth letting out an overdramatic gasp. The kind that brings you a laugh.

“¡Enzo!” The giggles you let out fell toned down onto his shoulder.

“Ya dale, dale.” He pressed his lips together unmoving with the smile besmear on them. Your lips mirrored his smile after he gave you a peck. “Estoy orgullo de vos.”

Enzo has always been proud of your attainments. Every time you would release a new book, he would take you out for dinner. Knowing that the past months would be stressful, he wished for you to have a good relaxing night after your hard work.

“Todo es gracias a ti.” Your finger tapped his upper lip making him jerk his head back softly. He offered you a cute wink that made you roll your eyes in joke.

“Puede ser.” He dragged the phrase with a shrug of the arms. His fingers moved in a typing manner on your bare shoulder, teasing you.

“Eres un tontito.” You quipped, lightly elbowing him, but you failed as Enzo tugged you closer to him. His hand had fallen on your waist and he managed to pull you over his lap.

“Tú tontito, nena.” He positioned his hand under your jawline bringing you closer to him to place a kiss. “Te amo.” His words fall in a whisper into your kiss.

“Y yo a ti.” You kiss him back, with your hands hand full of his hair.

“Sí escribis sobre esto, haceme ver bien.”

His teasing was never going to leave you alone, but you loved him. Tolerating his jokes wasn’t going to change anything.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic x you

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ventismacchiato · 10 months

Text

42 behind the lens — curtain call !

epilogue

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.

His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.

For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.

There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.

You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.

“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.

Your heart skips a beat, even years later.

“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.

“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.

It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.

It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.

His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.

But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.

And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.

“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.

“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”

“Archons, you’re worse than me.”

“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”

“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”

“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”

“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”

“Go!”

୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev

author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin smau #genshin scaramouche

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mikanotes · 3 months

Text

goodbyes are sour

connor x gn!reader — 2.1k words

genre: angst sorta! mutual pining in denial

warnings: mentions of guns and killing, kabedon for the sake of science, connor unreliable narrator LOL u have feelings android man… maybe ooc idk. (wrote this w the idea of connor being deviant since the beginning bcs Yeah!)

synopsis: You meet Connor again. Turns out things are much more complicated when you aren’t working together.

author’s note: hi dbh fic?! i Love connor nd i’ve been writing this for a while (crazy since it’s rly short) but i don’t like it much… anyways whoevers alive in the dbh fandom have this!

“Detective.”

There’s just something about the way Connor speaks. The cadence, the pitch, the enunciation of each word. It’s painfully evident that he isn’t human. Everything about him is so machine-like that even his perfect, human-like exterior could not fool anyone. However it is something you got used to. Hearing the android speak your name and call you ‘Detective’ back a while ago felt somewhat unsettling. Now it’s so easy to recognize that it almost makes you feel at ease.

“Do you seriously think I’m an android? I don’t wanna deal with those fucking machines, either. I’d be glad if you put a bullet through them rather than me.”

Turns out hearing him fake being a human is ten times more terrifying than his android speech patterns could ever hope to be.

This was not part of the plan.

You were sent with a unit to patrol around the streets for any android who still hadn’t been brought back or destroyed. You weren’t a fan of this whole assignment, but felt better than the rookies who were sent out to shoot humanoid robots as their first field mission probably did.

It would be fine, is what you told yourself, because you didn’t feel anything towards Cyberlife’s creations enough to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of their blue blood on your hands, though it wasn’t ideal. You could manage. Until the first person you came across happened to be the one android you genuinely cared about.

“I don’t think he’s one of them…” one of your fellow officers murmurs next to you. You suddenly become very aware of the gun he, too, is holding and pointing towards the target. Fuck. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough.

At least this idiot’s performance seems to be fooling them.

You wait one second, then sigh on the second, and finally lower your gun on the third. “You shouldn’t be here.” you say casually, prompting your colleagues to relax and the atmosphere to lighten a little. Your heart is in your throat, however. “We’ve got orders to round up every android we see around here. You should go home. This isn’t exactly safe.”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, rolling his eyes a little, “I was gonna leave anyways, thanks.”

Your coworkers mumble to themselves about how disagreeable this guy’s attitude is and it’s enough for them to miss the wink the latter sends your way as he leaves. You almost regret not shooting a bullet through his head.

Still, you sigh in relief, setting your gun back at your side and running a hand over your face. You don’t think you can continue patrolling in peace. There’s one too many questions in your mind and the key to answering them is escaping from your grasp.

You take the phone in your pocket and pretend to get a call, moving it to your ear and looking at the members of your team. “I’ll join up with you later.” you say, gesturing towards your phone. They nod and walk away, and you do the same, feeling more relieved than ever that these people see you as a leader of sorts. They won’t question you on anything. You hurry towards the direction your so-called partner left to the moment they’re out of sight.

A rooftop door, stairs, and more stairs. You’re jogging down like you’re chasing a criminal on the run. You’re down to the fifth floor out of eight when someone grabs your arm and pulls you out a door.

“Wha—” you try to yell, but a cold hand settle over your mouth. Your body relaxes but your expression tenses. Connor. “Let me go,” you mumble incoherently, surprisingly succeeding in getting him to let you step away.

You sigh and shake your head, turning around abruptly. His ‘human costume’ (which really just was a grey suit jacket thrown over what should’ve been his Cyberlife uniform, glasses, and a cap to hide his LED) is already gone, replaced by his usual attire, just missing his jacket.

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, annoyed, pointing towards the staircase (back there, on the roof) and the android simply shrugs. “Connor.”

“I was undercover, Detective. I thought someone as smart as you would recognize that much.” he says, his tone back to normal. You’d feel relieved if he wasn’t being so irritating. “Was I wrong?”

Your face drops. “No. I figured as much. But what for?” you sigh, crossing your arms.

“Same mission as always.”

“Who are you chasing? Did you find the place?”

“I have no reason to tell you.”

It only clicks then that while you know about Connor continuing his mission after being laid off the case, you’re not part of it anymore. He had to be sent back to Cyberlife, and you should’ve been forgetting about him entirely. You’re still DPD, and you have orders to shoot Androids on sight— Which you clearly aren’t following. He’s right. He has no reason to tell you.

Still.

You grab his arm when he threatens to walk away. You’re not sure what you want to say, but you’re not done talking. He lets you. “Connor.”

“Detective.” he says. You straighten your back and sigh, not breaking eye contact. He tilts his head to the side and his LED flashes yellow for an instant. “You’re angry.”

Of course you’re angry. He’s infuriating. There’s something about how logical and dead-set on following every single rule he is that makes Connor the most annoying individual you’ve ever talked to. Everything he does has to be for his mission. Every single thing.

“Do threats work with you?” you ask blankly, “If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll get Cyberlife to bring you back, and all that?”

When he takes a step closer to you again, forcing your back to press against the wall, and his LED does not even threaten to change hues, you’re taken aback. Just a bit. It’s the same kind of frustrated attitude you would’ve expected from a human after saying what you just did. But not Connor.

He doesn’t seem frustrated, though. And you know he can look annoyed. He just doesn’t. So he must not be. And you want to find what it is he’s doing exactly, stepping closer to you without even saying a word, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting at the distance between you two. You know he does everything for his work. Does he think you have new information on deviants? Does he really believe you would call Cyberlife on him? Is he using his stupid interrogation module on you? Whatever it is makes you even more annoyed.

The silence feels heavy. It makes things worse. It gives your brain time to process how this is making you feel and it’s no good at all. “What?” you break the silence, tone somewhat irritated.

“I’m trying to understand the reason why you’re so angry at me.” he explains simply, like it makes sense. His eyes narrow a bit and the LED at the side of his head flickers yellow for a moment. “And no, Detective. Threats don’t work on me. Not when I can tell you’re lying so easily.” he adds, quieter.

“Shut up.” you scoff.

“I dont think I will.”

“Connor.”

“— However,” he interrupts, “I can step away from you at any moment if you tell me to.”

“No.”

“No?”

What— No?! You register the word after saying it and sigh, face contorting into a somewhat pained expression. You panicked and said it, your mind processing his offer as him leaving you again— With no information and nothing to ease your stupid worries. Now it just sounds odd.

Is that embarrassment?

“You didn’t finish what you were trying to do, did you? You haven’t told me why I’m angry yet. Since you apparently care so much.” you say, tone sounding much softer than before. Your apparent discomposure took away all the bitterness from your voice. Interesting.

Truth be told, Connor knows why you’re angry. He’s not letting you in on the details of what he’s doing despite the time you spent working as partners a very short while ago. He’s spent enough time with people, and you especially, to know that after forming some kind of bond with a work partner, it would be frustrating not to receive information about their mission the way you used to from them—

Especially considering he was still chasing after something you both knew about. Jericho. But he cannot tell you about that. Not… Right now.

What he really was trying to do was evaluate how much of a threat you really could be to his investigation. He didn’t sense any hostility before and he doesn’t now, and you could’ve shot him but you didn’t. But it’s not enough. He needs more time— More evidence that it’s fine. That’s why he pulled you here in the first place. That’s why he pressured you to talk.

He needs to make sure killing you isn’t necessary.

“Because I posed a threat to the stability of your current mission earlier. You wouldn’t have been able to shoot me had I been discovered, and your reaction to your colleagues shooting me would’ve jeopardized your job itself.” he answers.

This reasoning would make sense.

“That’s not it.” you sigh.

Your heartbeat is slowing down. No good. Connor leans his arm on the wall next to you and moves closer. Your heartbeat picks up in speed. It’s almost alarming. He can tell all the details about your physical condition and deduce what you’re thinking or feeling based off of them, sure. But he’s no human. The way he views and comprehends emotions is registered in his system in a much more clear and logic-based way than it is in humans’ brains.

So maybe he won’t ever know why your heart beats so heavily against your ribcage. So he just has to pressure the right places and demand answers. He unfortunately can’t allow you to relax. He won’t get anything out of you if you’re calm. You’re much too turbulent for that.

Or maybe he’ll just have to ask. In a normal way.

“Detective, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” you scoff, eyes widening. Wrong question.

You seem like you want to be angry but something is holding you back from displaying just how much he gets on your nerves. You sigh deeply and look at him, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird. More than usual. Why’d you pull me here if you didn’t want to tell me anything? And I’m worried. What if you really did get shot? Wasn’t Cyberlife supposed to deactivate you? They wouldn’t have brought in another Connor this time. You’re off the case, you— You would’ve died!”

“Maybe.”

There’s circles under your eyes. There always are, but they’re more defined now than they were the last time he saw you. Now that you’re actually being honest, your whole voice and mannerisms betray any of your usual annoyed and dismissive facade. He didn’t think you cared this much, though he understands that some humans are quick to empathize. To a fault.

Now it’s clear he doesn’t need to eliminate you at all. Part of him seems to have grown fond of your company. He couldn’t risk that getting in the way of his better judgment.

“I only pulled you here so you wouldn’t pointlessly chase down the streets searching for me, since I made sure no one would follow.” he says, stepping back and giving you more space, “You’re a police officer. It doesn’t matter what you say you’ll keep to yourself or not. I can’t compromise. This is too important.”

You’re hurt, it’s visible. He’s saying he can’t risk trusting you. He figures that must not feel nice.

The sound of the radio attached to your side breaks this prolonged silence with the promise of separation. You take it, eyes not leaving Connor’s, and listen to your colleague speak. You tell them you’ll be right there. You’re not one to be late. He knows you’ll really leave this time— Too far away for him to hope to talk to you again, if anything goes awry.

You turn the radio off and put it back where it was. “Hope you succeed, then.” you say, bitter, and push yourself up to start walking away.

“Take care of yourself, Detective.” Connor says. Asks. The words come out before he can really think. Something about your voice and this whole atmosphere made him… Feel uneasy. Like he needed to say something. If this is how your partnership ends, he doesn’t believe it should be on such a sour note. He cares doesn’t dislike you at all, so why should it?

You stagger a little, seemingly stopping in your tracks, but moving again no more than a second later. “You too, Connor.”

Somehow, goodbyes had never seemed so sad.

#connor x reader #connor dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #connor detroit become human x reader #x reader

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asuyaka · 4 months

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Hello Hello!!📞 Hope ur having a wonderful time zone, author I just wanna say that I have read 2-3 of ur writings and I alr love it! Keep it up! ur writing's amazing.💗 I was wondering if I could request a Geto from jjk fic about him with a Curse! M reader, not a curse user, a literal curse like Mahito. But unlike Mahito the reader doesn't understand human emotions and from observing Geto (after he betrayed jujutsu high and became a cult leader) think's that its normal to kill and hate non-sorcerer's. Reader just sticks around in the shadow's and watches Geto and observer's his behavior until Geto notices and question's reader but after learning that, oh shit this curse is actually pretty powerful he might actually be useful, and promises reader to teach him about human's in exchange of him staying by Geto's side and helping him in his goal. Geto (as time passes) fall's in love with reader while reader get's this feeling that he can't understand when he's with Geto. sorry if this is a lot to ask and if u don't understand what i meant, u can just ignore me and my rambling😅

★ - s'okay lovely, descriptive reqs are jus as interestin' as non descriptive ones! <3

☆ - Cult Leader! Suguru Geto x Curse! M Reader!

♡ - typical Geto stuff! racist ta non-sorcerers, n tha word 'monkey' s'used one too many times (toji only said it once, by that way.)!

Geto remembers finding you— a curse who's stuck by his side ever since he deflected from the Jujutsu world— letched onto the side of a very popular road for couples to hang out and do whatever it was that couples do.

The very first time you two met, he remembers your soft voice, body radiating heaps of untapped cursed energy—untapped potential. Your curled up body, eyes void of emotion looking up at him with something that resembles confusion. "You can see me?"

Ever since then, you've been stuck to his side. While he doesn't think of you as useless, it has taken a bit too long for the potential— the strength he wants to see from you come out.

He's willing to wait, of course, he needs all the help he can get before initiating his plan against Jujutsu High, but there's only so much patience one man can have.

Especially, a man who's already running low on time.

You're accompanying Geto on a trip to a 'money-collecting monkey', as he likes to call them. They went back on their payments to the...cult (?) home (?) and he came to give them some 'personal counseling'—which was what he always said when blood was more than likely to be shed.

"Remember why we're here, [Name]," Geto says as he gets off his manta-ray curse, extending his hand to help you.

You stare at him, muttering a small thank you. "Help the monkey?"

Geto pushes his arms into his sleeves with a smile that makes your tummy churn in discomfort. "And?"

"Work on my cursed technique..." You mutter, kicking a pebble on the ground with an unseen pout working its way on your face. Ever since Geto quite literally found you on the side of a road, you've been his right-hand man ever since. Even if your understanding of cursed techniques and cursed energy is slim to none.

You've always understood in the back of your mind that he needs you for something. He had to—otherwise, he would've turned you into a ball and swallowed it on the spot. He always says how you aren't necessarily a bad curse, but he's never said you were good either.

You've never understood what he meant by that, but by the way Nanako grimaced whenever he said it, you assumed it wasn't a good thing. Without knowing, the pout grew into a frown and you found yourself huffing. Humans and their weird emotions always intrigued you ever since you were born, but you could never understand it.

Which is why you've been with Geto for so long. He's the first human who acknowledged your presence, the first human to act (kind, was it?) around you, so by process of elimination he was your first and only candidate to learn from.

When you two reached the house you overhear Geto whisper something about how the stench of monkeys would get everywhere.

'... Monkeys = bad people, they make Geto angry.' You think to yourself as you rummage through the pockets of the clothes Geto lent to you, bringing out a small spray bottle and handing it to the male beside you.

The action seems to take him by surprise. His smile falters and he stares at the item in your hand for a beat too long, grabbing it with a 'thank you' and spraying it on his clothes with a tight expression.

"Come here, you aren't getting monkey on my curses, or around the house." Geto waves you over, spraying a generous amount on your clothes and on your face. The spiciness takes you by surprise, spluttering as you try to get the taste off your mouth and the burn out of your eyes.

Surprisingly—shockingly even, you hear Geto laugh. It doesn't sound like the one he uses around the curse-collecting or money-collecting monkeys, it sounds like the one he uses around Nanako and Mimiko.

'Geto laughing = good. He's happy or excited.'

The laughing stops but he brings up a finger to wipe the tear that fell down your cheek during the sting. His hands are slightly calloused but soft to the touch. "Come on, let's get this over with. I'd rather stay away from monkeys on my weekends."

Nodding, you follow behind Geto as he walks up to the door, planting three brisk but firm knocks against the wood. You make sure to stay a step behind him, your body stiff and your eyes blank in case the monkey decides to try anything.

The door opens a slither a pair of green eyes widening the second they see you and Geto. "G-Geto-san! What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Good afternoon to you as well, Mr. Ashido. From my understanding, you're to fund my organization with three hundred thousand yen a month, am I correct?" Geto smiles, but it doesn't feel nice like when he smiles at you.

'Monkeys make Geto's smile weird. All monkeys are bad.'

The man nods shakily, his grip on the door faltering slightly. "Y-yes, but I cannot make up with the payments anymore because—"

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, Mr. Ashido, but you were the one who said three hundred thousand, am I correct?" Geto interrupts with a slight movement of his head, his signature bang moving with it.

"But Mr. Geto—"

Then, Geto's smile falls. His nose scrunches up in disgust and his eyes narrow. That means he's going to kill someone.

Before either of you knows what's happening, a surge of cursed energy flows into your hand, and the man's body squishes onto the ground until it pops as if the gravity on his body somehow quadrupled.

Geto's eyes widen, staring at the eyeball that rolled on the tip of his sandals. He turns to look at you, equal parts shocked and amused. "You did that, didn't you?"

"Monkeys are bad, and you looked like you were going to kill him anyway. I'm sorry for acting out of line G—"

"Don't you dare apologize for that." Geto interrupts with a sharp cut to his tone, making you stutter and trip over your words.

'Don't apologize, Geto gets angry. Angry = bad emotion.'

You nod hastily, but the nagging feeling to apologize stretches along your throat, itching to come out. Geto huffs, walking down the stairs and dragging you by the collar. "Seriously, the one time I take my eyes off you, you go change the actual laws of space on a guy?"

"Sor—" You stop yourself midway, remembering how apologies made Geto feel. You opt to stay silent and let him drag you wherever it is he wants to.

As you and Geto ride back home on the manta-ray curse, you see the smile on his face from earlier still hasn't left.

'Killing monkeys makes Geto give Nanako and Mimiko smile. Feels better than what he uses with sponsors.'

"Did I do good, Geto?" You ask absentmindedly, shifting closer to him until your chest is pressed against his back.

Something that resembles a laugh comes out of him, but it seems airy. Still genuine, but not as hard as when he sprayed you in your face. "Yes, [Name]. You did well."

A slight flush and embarrassment creeps up on you, causing you to plant your face on his shoulder. It didn't feel bad, just new. The same thing you feel whenever Geto falls asleep on your shoulder, or when he and you stay on his flying curse for hours at a time, doing nothing but basking in each other's presence.

It feels great, and you're glad to be feeling it with the only human you would put your life on the line for.

#writin' shit.#ANSWERED LETTERS — 013 #★: anon!#jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #male reader #x male reader #geto x male reader #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru x male reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader

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vampzxi · 1 year

Text

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

preview: she hums as she pulls away, leaving a spit trail connected to her lips and your nipple. her mouth travels to your neck, and she nips at it, adding to the collection of purple marks that already stain your brown skin. her hands cup your tits as she kisses behind your ear, “fuck, you’re so perfect, y/n,” her breath tickles your ear, and you shiver, smiling at the sound of your name. “i need you to go in the room and lay down, pretty girl. can you do that for me?”

a/n: THANK FUCK this fic is finally finished it was kicking my ass so bad. very sorry for the wait, i had a bunch of shit going on at home and with my mental in general( a nigga was struggling☠️). i'm a little better now, but i'll probably be extending my break until a little after the 15th (a nigga is graduating!! :P). also this fic did not turn out the way i thought it was going to...who wrote this ? like hello ? also this is kinda unedited. if you see anything wonky, shh. i love u guyth. saur much. ok sorry for the long ass author's note, nobody reading allat.

word count: 7k+ (fics getting longer and longer..)

tags: LOTS of teasing, like i was pissing myself off writing this…riri plays too much, fingering, (semi) public sex, masturbation, voyeurism, phone sex?, dom!riri, sub!reader, slightly bratty!reader, avenger!riri, (slightly) cocky!riri, overstimulation, pussy eating, (slight) ropebunny!riri, crying, dacryphilia (listen…), face sitting (riri receiving), strap slanger!riri, degradation, humiliation, praise, video taping, there’s a plot if you squint, riri’s chain makes me hard, hair pulling, (slight) slapping, riri being a big softie at the end, umm probably more that i forgot. whoopsi!

dts!: @heejayy , @abenomeiiii , @playhousedistee , @cafehyunji , @amplifiedmoan @zayswriting , @vixentheplanet , @inmyheadimobsessed , @quintessencewrites , @marsolgy , @verachii , @saintwrld , @motheroffae , @dejaonline , @dominiquesheart , @izrinmabel1 , @mocha-aya , @shuriszn @yamsthoughts : i love you guys and every single interaction i have with you. u guys make me kick my feet so bad like...pls take care of yourselves. special dt to eden for giving me the idea to put raveena in here..love u fr.

taglist!: @because-were-pointless-ghosts , @yourfavdummy , @ihearttish , @biltongbite , @vspletitia3 , @sookiesookie , @letitiaslabyrinth , @iotusroses , @ppawmpkin , @prettymrswright , @somethingcleaverandwhitty , @icespiceluva , @sapphicvqmpires , @puppykitt , @pinkwright divider by: @firefly-graphics (lmk if i forgot anyone! taglist request form is here!)

ok ENUFF w that... here you guys go! enjoy ;P

“no goodbye kiss?” riri pretends to pout at you.

“you can kiss my ass on the way out,” you grumble, slamming the door, “get the fuck out my car.”

you walk over to the trunk and grab her luggage as she steps out of your car. “baby, what i do?” she yells over the airplane taking off.

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “you kept teasing me on the way here. you know ion like that shit,” you say, handing over her luggage.

she smiles and reaches out, "aw baby, don’t be like that. it’s so easy to get you worked up, it’s cute. come here.”

you roll your eyes again and embrace her tight, letting her firm arms squeeze your torso, “i’m tired of your ass.”

she presses a quick kiss on your forehead, “i love you too,” she rests her head on yours, “it’s only for a weekend.”

you groan, “i’m sure the Avengers will be fine without ironheart.”

“and i’m sure you’ll be aight without riri,” she pulls away and looks at you smirking, “you miss me already, huh?” you gasp as riri pushes you against the car, her playful eyes lingering on your lips.

“ri, don’t start-” she presses her mouth against yours, and a quick moan slips from you. you feel riri grin against you as she hears you, deepening the kiss. as her tongue slithers into your mouth, chills travel down your spine despite the humid air. the knot in your stomach tightens.

she lightly bites your bottom lip as she slowly breaks the kiss, her eyes never leaving yours, “riri…” you sigh, her lips traveling to your neck.

“‘sup, ma?” she nips at your neck, sucking the dark skin hard enough to leave a mark. the pet name makes your knees buckle as you lean against the car. riri’s calloused hands slide up your shirt and rub your sides as you gasp lightly.

“there’s people…,” you tuck a moan into your lip as she bites at your collarbone, “you’re gonna miss your flight-fuck,” she slips her hand down your waistband, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“i embarrass you, ma?” she inquires, her voice muffled by the skin in her mouth as she presses her teeth into it. your entire body heats up as she looks at you, expectant.

“no..i just-riri!” your words die in your throat with a whimper as she pushes her fingers against your damp panties, laughing at how you squirm under her.

“she’s so wet for me, haven’t even touched her yet,” she runs her finger up your slit as you hold back a moan, “she’s begging me to taste her, yeah? what you think, mama?”

you nod quickly as she continues to rub you through your underwear, whining every time her finger passes over your clit. “really? i can’t tell, she aint loud enough for me.”

“riri please…” you make eye contact with a man struggling with his luggage, and you quickly divert your attention, your face turning hot.

“i should eat her right in front of the airport,” riri uses her free hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into it as she applies more pressure to your clit, “let everyone know who she belongs to. let everyone know how needy she is. she’d like that, huh?”

“fuck, riri,” you moan. you’re grateful for the sound of airplanes passing overhead, because if not for them, surely the entire parking lot would have known riri’s name. “i don’t care, baby, please. i’ll make a big mess for you right here and let you do whatever you want. just..please, riri. i need you.” the band in your stomach tightens as you listen to her giggle.

“louder, baby.”

“FUCK, RIRI, PLEASE,” you grind on her fingers as they move along your underwear, ignoring the curious glances of passerbys.

she kisses you tenderly, making you melt under her lips. “hmm..what i tell you?” she murmurs into your mouth, “too damn easy.” she slides her hand out of your pants and pops her fingers into her mouth, swirling them around. “make sure you pick me up at 6 on monday, aight, ma?” the sight makes your pussy throb, but you just scoff as you watch, frustration overtaking your arousal.

“nah,” you push yourself off the car, fuming, “you got legs, nigga. you can walk.” she opens her mouth but you cut her off, pushing your finger into her chest, “matter of fact, use that fucking suit you always messing with. figure it out.”

your jabs do nothing but amuse her as she watches you climb back into the car. “so…no goodbye kiss?”

you shut the door and roll the window down, glaring at riri. truth was, you really did want to kiss her. but your frustration barred you from even thinking about it. “text me when your plane lands.”

“yes ma’am,” she sighs. she kisses her two fingers and places them against your temple. you watch her walk away with her luggage and so desperately want her to turn around. to turn around and yell “fuck the Avengers!!” and hop back into the passenger seat and kiss you until the windows fog. but she doesn’t. you sigh and shove the keys into the ignition and turn your music to 100, pulling out of the parking lot.

you open the door to your shared apartment, cringing at the silence. normally, ri would have her tunes playing, usually switching between Tyler, the Creator, Kehlani, Chief Keef, or Lauryn Hill. her inconsistent music taste always made your head spin, but now you yearn for it. if it wasn’t music, then she was sprawled on the bed, begging you to play just “one match” against her in Mortal Kombat or Smash Bros., knowing she would whoop your ass. you always gave in anyways, just to see the satisfaction on her face.

you drag yourself into your room and plop into bed, opening your phone. you haven’t checked it since you left the airport, too frustrated to even peek. you scroll through riri’s texts, your guilt building with every missed message you read.

you shoot her a quick “made it home, love you too,” and throw your phone into your pillows, groaning. she’s been edging you all day, building you up just to stop you from finishing. when you asked her why, she simply giggled and said, “to give you something to look forward to when i come back.” oh she pisses you off.

your mind wanders back to the airport. riri’s voice bounces around in your head, “it’s so easy to get you worked up,” and irritation builds in your gut. you think about the way her hands fit perfectly around your ass as she gripped it, her dull nails digging into your soft skin. you think about the way her fingers curled in you as you surrendered to her touch. you replay the moment in your mind, biting your lip. you embrace the familiar tug in your stomach, recalling the way riri’s fingers grazed you. your face turns hot as you clench your thighs together, breathing heavily.

you peel your jeans off and toss them in the corner. your hand slithers down to your wet front and you sigh as your clit finally gets the pressure it’s been waiting so patiently for. your fingers trace your slit through your wet underwear, your pussy begging for the release riri’s been denying you. her laugh echoes in the back of your mind as you push your panties aside, your arousal sticking to the fabric. you smirk, recalling how her breathing faltered when you would whine in her ear, the sound of your voice spurring her on.

you grab your phone and go back to riri’s messages, your fingers pressing the voice memo option before you can even think about it. as your phone starts recording, you slip your middle and ring fingers inside of you, moaning at how easily they slide in. you close your eyes and think back to riri, the thought of her listening to your moans sending shivers down your spine. you feel yourself getting wetter as you imagine riri's rough hands and tongue exploring every inch of you, imagining her whispers trailing up your spine, her mouth leaving marks on your neck. you drag your fingers in and out, the messy noises of your cunt filling the room. “fuck,” you groan into your mic as you curl your fingers into your g-spot. your hips buck under your hand as you pump them inside of you, dropping the phone on your chest. your other hand travels to your clit, pressing your fingers against the swollen bud. your back arches from the pressure, and another quick moan is stolen from your lips. you feel your body getting warmer as you get louder, giving in to the pleasure that's building up inside of you.

“riri…i’m so close,” you slip another finger in, whining as you speed up. you trace circles into your clit as groans tumble out of your mouth, rising in octaves. tears blur your vision as you near your edge, forcing yourself to go further. your gasps become shorter and quicker as you push yourself to your orgasm, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna cum! i’m cumming,” your head swims as your walls clench around your fingers, whining.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you release onto your fingers, the white liquid gushing onto your sheets. you slide your fingers out as your chest heaves. you bite your lip as you press send on the audio message, smirking. you don’t know when she’ll listen to it, but you know the thought of you touching yourself when she isn’t here will send her into hysterics. and you giggle at the thought.

you pick up your phone again and open the camera, flipping it so your face fills the frame. you look crazed, with your curls sticking to your forehead and your brown eyes dilated. you smile and press record, dragging your fingers into your dripping cunt again. you moan at the sensation, your jaw hanging open as you push your digits into your overstimulated pussy. you stare into the camera and bring your wet fingers to your mouth, wrapping your tongue around them. you lick your cum off of your fingers, grinning into your phone, “was that loud enough for you, mama?” you suck your fingers and swallow the last of it, winking into the camera. you stop the video and press send, watching until it says delivered.

you toss your phone onto the bed and step into the bathroom to clean yourself up. after a quick shower, you throw on one of riri’s shirts and step out and pick up your phone again, checking your messages. your stomach twists as you see 3 dots in the corner of your screen, indicating that riri was typing. you hop onto the bed again, grinning hard enough to make your face ache. your head spins as you anticipate her response. you can’t contain the giggles spilling out of you as you imagine her reaction to the attachments, but that smile quickly drops when the dots fade away. you blink at your screen, waiting for them to reappear. after 5 minutes of nothing, you groan and shut your phone off, burying your face into your hands.

irritation creeps up your spine as you stare at your phone. was she really icing you out? whatever. you didn’t care. or she was probably busy at work, actively saving people, instead of listening to her girlfriend fuck herself. duty calls or whatever. your mind races through explanations so fast that your head starts to hurt.

you sigh and stretch across your bed, sleep creeping its way behind your eyelids. your finger hovers over the call button, contemplating. her contact image smiles back at you, squeezing your heart a bit as you remember her in her first ironheart suit, where she was too excited to even sit still. you took the picture before she successfully completed her first test flight, her eagerness evident on her face.

you sigh and decide against calling her, figuring she was busy. thinking it’ll be better to wait til the morning. surely she was too preoccupied to even pick up. you roll over, burying your face into riri’s pillow, letting her scent trace the inside of your nose. you inhale the cocoa butter smell, letting it lull you to sleep.

bang!

you shoot up, sleep clouding your mind as you rub your eyes. you fumble for your phone and wince when the light hits your eyes. 3:17am. “hello?” you call out into the darkness, fidgeting with your hair. silence answers you, making you bite your lip. you slide out of bed and tiptoe to your closet, grabbing the vibranium gauntlet that riri somehow managed to swipe from shuri. you laughed at her when she told you to keep it, but now you’re silently thanking her as you creep into the living room. you slip the gauntlet onto your wrist, holding it out in front of you as you feel the faint hum of the vibranium travel up your arm.

you notice the door hanging ajar, and you stiffen, gripping the glove tighter. “i…i have a weapon!” you squeak out, heart racing, “wakandan, too! you don’t wanna fuck with me!”

a soft chuckle emanates from the couch, and you whip your head around, using the soft blue glow of the gauntlet to guide you. you point it to the figure shrouded in darkness that was sitting comfortably on your couch. “last warning,” you keep your distance from the figure, but you know the power of the gauntlet will reach them in seconds.

“babygirl, put that shit down before you hurt yourself,” her voice makes your blood run cold, but you also basked in the relief she bought, “you know you clumsy.”

“shit, riri what the fuck?” you turn off the gauntlet and throw your hands into the air, “i thought i was bout to end up on a fucking true crime podcast. what the hell are you doing here?”

“uh, i live here?” you roll your eyes as you reach for the light switch, flipping it on. the sight of her manspreading on your couch made your knees weaker. her red hoodie and matching sweatpants did nothing to help. “i figured i’d swing by ‘cause you missed me so much.”

you laugh, taking the glove off and setting it on the kitchen counter, “sure. what happened to being an Avenger? don’t you have babies to save, or whatever they do?”

she sighs and stands up, taking two swift steps to you. her R-chain glints in your eye as she stares down at you, smirking, “i’m sure the Avengers will be fine without ironheart,” you smile as she shoots your words back at you, “you’re so damn needy, couldn’t leave you alone for long.”

she reaches out and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you towards her. your cheek rests against her shoulder as you murmur, “i’m not needy.”

“you ain’t?” she reaches into her pocket, pulling her phone out, “you sure?”

you scoff and nod, “yo ass just wanted an excuse to come see me,” you pull away, “hold on, how’d you even get here?”

riri opens her phone, scrolling, “flew in that fucking suit you were talking about earlier…here it is,” she looks at you, her face unreadable, “ain’t this yo needy ass?”

you stare at her, puzzled, until the sounds reach your ears. amidst the panic of thinking there was an intruder in your home, you completely forgot what you had sent to riri. it all comes crashing back to you as your sultry moans emit from her phone, making your face hot. the noises of you playing with your wet cunt filled the room, your heavy breathing getting louder with each push of your fingers. “riri…i’m so close..” you hang your head, but riri grips your neck, forcing you to look at her.

“you was so vocal earlier…what happened, ma?” she turns up the volume, letting your voice echo through the living room. the splashing noises of you fucking yourself grow louder, along with your whines, as your gasps come through the mic. you press your thighs together, attempting to hide the arousal sliding down them.

the sounds end as you finish, and she shoves her phone back into her pocket, never breaking eye contact with you. her eyes boring into yours made you shiver, a smile playing on her plump lips. her hand tightens around your throat, and a moan slips from your mouth, “there it is.” her hand travels down to your underwear, prodding your clothed slit, “she’s so wet and i aint even touch her.”

your legs buckle as riri pushes against your clit, amusing herself with the way you lean into her. “fuck, ri,” you widen the gap in your legs, giving more access to your leaking cunt.

“hm?” she pulls her hand away, “what you want, ma?”

you’re too pent-up to put up a fight. you sigh into her shoulder, mumbling, “i want you, ri.”

riri’s hand returns to your underwear as she prods at your bud once more, making you whine into her ear. her jaw clenches as your whimpers fill her head, wanting nothing more than to see you crying under her as she sluts you out. but you had to earn it.

“use your words, mama,” riri moves your panties aside, sliding a singular digit into you with ease. your grip on her arm tightens as she slowly pumps her finger in and out of you, her brown eyes staring into yours.

“shit,” you tremble under her, “riri no more teasing, please. i need you to make me feel good. put me in my place. make me your bitch-i’ll take anything you give me, baby,” you throw your head back as she slips another finger in, her slow pace making your mind foggy, “fuck me, riri.”

“you gon’ be a good girl and make a mess for me, baby?” she quickens her pace, making it hard for you to keep your balance, “you gon’ let me tear this pussy up?”

you frantically nod, listening to riri play with your arousal. her eyes light up at the sight of her fingers disappearing into you, entranced by the sounds of your squelching pussy. “i’m your good girl, ri. i’ll do anything you tell me.” your walls clench around her fingers, eliciting a low groan from the back of her throat. the sound makes you quiver, hungry for more.

riri’s boxers are beyond damp as she listens to you. “so messy for me,” she kisses your head as she pulls her fingers out and you gasp at the absence of her digits inside you, “do me a favor, baby, and i promise i’ll give you what you want.”

you whine as she steps away from you and you stumble slightly, “you promise?”

“yeah, baby, i promise,” you smile as she cups your face and kisses you gently, her breath tickling your upper lip. your tongue runs across her bottom lip and she grins against you. riri speaks in between kisses,“i need these,” she tugs at your underwear, “gone. and this?” she pulls at the shirt hanging from your body, “never wanna see it again.”

you giggle, rocking on your heels, “but this is your shirt.”

“i’ll be ight. it looks better on the floor anyways,” she watches as you slowly pull the shirt over your head, her eyes fixed on your erect nipples. she resists the urge to step forward and squeeze and lick at the brown buds, but she reminds herself to wait.

you toss the shirt onto the floor, and your panties are next. the fabric is borderline glued to your wet cunt as you peel them off and toss them in the same corner as your shirt. you look back at riri, curling into yourself as she stares at you. it’s been around a year since y’all got together, but her gaze still makes you nervous. you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly self-conscious.

“nah, baby, let me see you,” riri steps forward and moves your arms to your sides. her eyes fall to your chest again, and your breath falters as she reaches forward and envelops your nipple in her warm mouth. she groans under you as her other hand reaches up to fondle your other boob. you bite back a moan as you grip her braids, watching the way she kisses your chest.

“oooh! shit, ri,” she smirks as she bites on your nipple, making you wince. her wet tongue rubs over it, chasing away the sting she left.

she hums as she pulls away, leaving a spit trail connected to her lips and your nipple. her mouth travels to your neck, and she nips at it, adding to the collection of purple marks that already stain your brown skin. her hands cup your tits as she kisses behind your ear, “fuck, you’re so perfect, y/n,” her breath tickles your ear, and you shiver, smiling at the sound of your name. “i need you to go in the room and lay down, pretty girl. can you do that for me?”

“fuck you, ri” you gasp as you throw your head back and clench your thighs, the incessant buzzing between your legs driving you to tears.

as soon as ri stepped into the room, wearing nothing but her boxers, her R-chain, and a shit-eating grin, you knew she wasn’t done teasing you. “i’m making you work for this shit, you think i flew all the way down here just to give in to yo needy ass?” she chuckled, “you got me fucked up. hands above your head.”

“say that shit again, ma. i might just consider letting you go,” she uses her vibrator to apply more pressure to your clit, making your back arch off the bed. your hands squirm against your restraints as you cry out.

riri’s eyes are glued to your bloodshot ones, grinning so hard, you’re wondering how her damn face doesn’t hurt. “ri..fuck,” you pant, your sweat-slicked chest heaving, “i can’t. i’m gonna cum-ah!”

riri uses her free hand to slip 3 fingers into your puffy pussy, pumping at a rapid pace, “you can. and you won’t,” your overstimulated cunt clenches around her as she circles your sensitive clit with the vibrator, “not until you apologize.” a whimper tumbles out of your mouth as you buck your sore hips.

your eyes roll as another jolt of pleasure courses through you, making your stomach tighten. you grit your teeth in frustration as she bites at your trembling thighs, the stinging bringing you closer to your edge, “i..fuck!” you crane your head down, making eye contact with the grinning girl as her fingers continue to pound into you, “haah..kiss my ass.”

you smile weakly to yourself as you watch irritation cross riri’s face, “aight, bet,” she laughs, slowing her pace. you smirk as she pulls her fingers out, praying she’ll finally end the assault on your clit. but your prayers go unanswered as she increases the speed of the vibrator, making you flinch.

your voice cracks as she slips her fingers back into you, this time adding an extra one. she moans at the sound of you, relishing the way you crumble under her, “yeah, you was so big and bad earlier. what happened?” she curls her fingers into your sweet spot, and you can feel your orgasm starting to leak onto riri’s fingers.

“i’m sorry!” you wail, spit forming in the corners of your mouth, “ri, baby, i’m sorry! please, please, let me cum. i can’t hold it anymore.” hot tears cloud your vision.

“huh?” riri’s digits twist inside you, making your back arch once more. you wish your hands were free so you could smush that stupid ass grin off her face, “ian hear you, baby.”

“i’m sorry! i’m so sorry,” you start to babble, rutting your hips against riri, “i won’t do it again. i’ll be good. i was being needy because i missed you!”

riri’s fingers slow as she looks at you, “who’s my bratty girl?”

“i am,” you huff, the buzzing of the toy slowly creeping through your entire body.

“who’s pussy is this?”

“it’s yours, ri!”

riri hums and removes her fingers and the vibrator, making you sigh in relief. her lips gravitate to your swollen bud like a magnet, kissing it softly. “good shit, baby. let it out for me,” her tongue dances between your folds, “flood my shit.”

“fuck, i’m cumming, ri!” you squirm against your restraints and moan as riri’s fingers dig into your thighs, stopping them from closing as she licks you up.

her tongue grazes your clit and you squirt on her without warning, fat tears rolling down your face as your orgasm splashes onto riri. she opens her mouth, not letting a single drop go to waste. your arms burn from the strain of them hanging pathetically over your head as you struggle against them, watching riri continue to suck on your overstimulated cunt. “ri, baby-shit. i came, i came!”

“yeah.” riri mumbles into you as she sticks her tongue into your entrance, slurping you up. she eats you like your pussy is a drug, never stopping to come up for air. your legs twitch uncontrollably as she moans into you, the vibrations going straight to your core. she reaches up and tweaks one of your nipples, making your eyes cross.

your safeword is resting just behind your lips, ready to tumble out of your mouth, when riri presses one final kiss against your entrance and pulls away. “such a pretty pussy,” she coos, eyes locked on the wet spot on the bed, “could eat her all day.” your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath, and your cunt throbs as you watch her suck the rest of your release from her fingers, her chain winking at you in the dim lighting as she sits up.

“let me go?” you mumble, head swimming. she finally looks back at you, taking in your blissed-out state. she smiles and kisses you deeply as you moan into her mouth.

“where you at, mama?” she looks down at you, concern swimming in her eyes, “just say the word, and i’ll run you a bath.”

while you would appreciate the warm water soothing the welts riri left behind, you also can’t get enough. you shake your head, “i..want more,” you look at her, a lazy smile playing on your lips, “wanna taste you,” you watch her bite her lip as she listens to you, “please, riri.”

riri rubs circles on your stomach, pecking your temple and humming, “you think you deserve it? have you been good?”

you nod quickly, “did so good for you…” she leans over you and reaches for the rope around your wrists, her low-hanging necklace brushing against your face.

as your arms are released, she gently takes your wrists and kisses them, alleviating the burn of your restraints. you sigh as you relax into riri, wrapping your arms around her. “thank you for being such a good girl baby,” she kisses you again, “you gonna let me sit on your pretty face?”

her words send shivers down your spine, and you whimper as you nod. “tell me how bad you want it,” she rubs her hands over your thighs, coaxing the plea out of you.

“please…riri. i wanna taste you so bad, i want you to smother me, i want your pretty pussy on my face. make a mess in my mouth and ruin me,” you babble desperately.

riri swallows a moan as she listens to you, trying to keep herself from becoming undone with just your words. “shit, ma. you got me so wet,” she admits, “you wanna see?”

she grins as you rapidly nod, giggling at your eagerness. her finger traces your belly button as she leans closer to your ear, her breath making your body quiver, “lay on your back for me, baby.”

“just sit down, ri,” you coo, her thighs straddling your face as her glistening pussy hovers above you, “please, mama.”

“say ahh for me,” riri’s voice barely registers to you, as you’re too focused on the line of arousal slowly trailing from her cunt, your breath catching in your chest as you suppress yet another needy whine. your attention snaps back to riri as she pops your thigh, the sting making you suck your teeth, “open your fucking mouth. you ain’t have a problem keeping it wide open earlier.”

“shut the hell up and sit down,” you mutter impatiently.

“i don’t know who the hell you think you talk-shit“ riri’s cut short by you as you push down on her waist, letting her drenched pussy fall into your mouth. an abrupt moan escapes her as your nose brushes her clit.

“shit, baby, right there,” riri throws her head back as you suck on her folds, savoring the way your tongue fits perfectly in her. she tastes better than anything you’ve ever eaten, like nectar to a bee. ambrosia to a goddess. she writhes above you as you lap her up, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your grip on her thighs tighten as her hips rock, letting her cunt slide across your face as she hums, “you like this, don’t you? needy slut.”

you dig your fingernails into riri’s thighs, leaving small, crescent-shaped marks as her insult sends a shudder down your spine. you look up at her, watching how her face contorts as your lips wrap around her swollen bud. her jaw hangs open as she continues to ride your face, her chain swinging with each rut of her hips.

“fuck, i’m bout to..” riri tries to bite back a whimper, but your ears catch it. you slide your tongue into her, drawing out a long moan from the prodigy on top of you. her thighs tremble as she grabs fistfuls of your curls, grinding her hot cunt further into your mouth.

“you gon let me flood your pretty face, baby?” riri smiles as you hum your confirmation, the vibration of your voice making her head spin, “let me cum in that dirty mouth, yeah?”

you look up at riri as you press sloppy kisses onto her pussy, relishing the way she bounces on your face. “fuck, baby. feels so good..shit!” her back arches as you gather her clit in your mouth once more, sucking on it, “im cumming! im-“

riri’s hands fly to her tits as she gropes them, riding her orgasm out on your face. you moan as you watch, maintaining eye contact with her as she creams in your mouth, the thick liquid coating your throat. her legs twitch as you continue to lick her clean, your tongue traveling over her folds. “aight, baby, i’m done, i’m done, fuck!” she cries out as you release your grip on her thighs.

riri lifts off of you and plops onto the bed, chest heaving, “how i taste, ma?”

you roll over and press a long kiss onto riri’s lips, hands trailing down her body. she moans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around you to pull you closer. her tongue slips into your past your lips, swirling around your mouth. you push your hips into her, your throbbing clit brushing against her leg.

riri grins against your mouth before rolling on top of you and bringing her knee up to your cunt, “you want me to keep going?” she laughs as you nod vigorously, “needy ass.”

she slides off the bed and walks into the shared closet, disappearing for a bit. you sit up as you watch her walk back to the bed with her most prized possession.

“where’d you get that one from, ri?” you watch as she steps into the harness of her strap, staring curiously at the purple-veined appendage.

“don’t worry bout it,” riri fastens the strap to her and looks up at you, mischief dancing in her eyes, “hand me my phone.”

you knit your brows in confusion as you reach for her long forgotten hoodie and fish out her phone from the pocket. you toss it to her, “for what?”

“you’ll see,” she smirks at you, “you already know what position i like you in. bend over.”

your eyes screw shut as riri aligns the strap with your hole, the tip brushing against your overstimulated clit.

“ri…please,” you mumble, squirming against the rope tied across your wrists once more. she uses one hand to dig her nails into your hip while she uses the other to stroke the tip between your folds.

“please what, baby?” riri coos, her voice dripping with disdain, “ask the camera. you had no problem doing it earlier.”

you shut your eyes tighter, mortification burning through your cheeks. riri had propped her phone up on the pillows in front of you after tying your hands behind you, letting them sit snugly on your lower back.

your eyes shoot open as riri’s hand slams down on your ass and you wince from the impact. “i know you heard me,” she grabs a handful of your curls and tugs at them, forcing you to stare straight at yourself in her phone camera, taking in your pathetic state. eyes puffy, tears staining your cheeks, your messy hair sticking up in various directions. riri takes pride in knowing she’s the cause of your current state.

her cold chain drags against your burning back as she leans over to whisper in your ear, “don’t act brand new. tell them how bad you want me to fuck your pretty brains out.”

panic seizes your chest as you crane your head away from the camera to look at riri, “‘them’? you’re gonna show this to people? what the fuck, ri?” you splutter.

“nah, i bet you would like that though, huh?” she chuckles, “wanna show everyone how much of a needy whore you are? want them to see how pretty you look when i fill you up?”

she turns your head back to her phone as you whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. “ri…”

your whimper makes her laugh, “speak up, babygirl.”

the way your nickname rolls off her tongue pushes you to the edge, “SHIT, ri. just fuck me, please. i want you inside me, fuck me stupid. i wanna feel y-“

your words die at your lips as riri rams into you, the tip of the strap brushing against your cervix. “you talk too much,” riri mutters as you cry out. you can’t form a coherent response as she continues to thrust into you at rapid speeds, her groans making you clench around the faux dick buried in you. “she’s so fucking tight for me..god.”

“you..you can feel me?” you struggle against your restraints and wince as the rope digs into your skin.

“yeah…was working on it before…fuck, mama keep squeezing my shit just like that!” riri gasps as she digs into your g-spot.

“YES, riri, right there,” you watch your body in the camera, shaking from the impact of her thrusts, “i can’t…hold it” tears swim in your vision, and you fight against them, “please let me cum..oh fuck!” you choke out a sob as her hand slithers to your neck and her fingers tighten around your throat.

“hold that shit,” ri’s says through gritted teeth as her pace becomes sloppy. your pulsating cunt continues to constrict around her, causing her to emit a low groan, “you look so pretty when you’re full of dick.” the corner of her mouth quirks up into a smirk as she listens to your whimpers, “now tell the camera how good i feel.”

“please, ri,” you whine. she tightens her grip around your throat as a warning, and you involuntarily moan. “shit, riri fucks me so good. she makes my pussy feel so good!”

“yeah, good shit, baby.” riri’s hips kiss yours as she continues to slam into you, her dick burying into your core. you feel your orgasm approaching, the familiar tug in your stomach becoming stronger with each push into your puffy pussy. riri bites her bottom lip as your walls tighten around her, making her eyes roll to the ceiling, “can i fill this you up, mama? you gon let me cum in this pretty pussy?”

riri knocks into your g-spot and you finally let your tears fall as you moan, “YES, riri. please fill me up. flood my shit, baby!” your voice cracks as you yell, desperately wanting to break free of the rope binding your wrists.

“oh my god..are you fucking crying?” riri looks at your wet cheeks and scrunched face as she pumps into you. she removes her hand from your neck and grips your curls, turning your tear-soaked face around to look at her. she leans forward and presses her tongue flat against your cheek, letting the salty fluid settle on her tastebuds as she moans. “you see how lame you look? you’re so goddamn needy,” she smirks, dragging her tongue across your cheek, “i knew i couldn’t leave you alone for long.”

“ri…i’m so close-please,” you blubber, “been so good..for you.”

riri resumes her rapid pace and you chomp down on your bottom lip. “yeah? who’s the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“you, riri, only you!” your eyes cross as her palm smacks your ass, with riri fascinated by the way it jiggles.

“who’s pussy is this?” riri’s chest heaves, her pounding becoming erratic. her orgasm is quickly approaching, but she wants to watch you become undone first.

you scream in response, your back arching as you squirt onto riri. your release splashes on her as you moan, throwing your head into the sheets. “shit, baby, im..fuck, i’m about to cum!” riri groans, digging her fingernails into your hips, “ke-keep squeezing me like that. wanna feel your pretty pussy.”

“fill me up, ma,” you plead, throwing your ass back on the Avenger, “please, baby! wanna feel yo-”

“shut up!” riri says with a snarl as she shoves her fingers in your mouth, making you clench as she gags you. riri moans, throwing her head back as she drills her strap deeper into you, “fuck, baby. just like that! i’m…i’m bout to..”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as her seed shoots into your cunt, relishing the warmth that fills you. you bite down on her fingers and moan in sync with her, relaxing your body.

as she pulls out of you, her creamy release pours out of you, dripping onto the sheets. you collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily as your eyes flutter closed. riri chuckles and steps peels the strap off, tossing it into a forgotten corner of the room. she rubs small circles into your back and places her lips on yours, kissing you deeply. “you did so good for me, my beautiful girl,” you smile at the compliment, feeling her scatter sweet kisses across your face.

“can you walk, baby?” she asks softly, starting to untie the rope at your hands. you don’t even have the energy to talk, much less stand. riri understands your silence and let’s out a soft laugh, rubbing your wrists and easing the ache that your restraints left behind.

“i’m gonna run you a bath, then i’ll be right back,” you nod drowsily as she presses another kiss to your temple and walks to the bathroom, humming. you envy her endurance, the way she’s able to bounce back after leaving you strewn out across the bed. you turn your head, watching the muscles in riri’s back shift with each step. riri disappears into the bathroom and you let the sound of running water lull you to sleep.

“you never answered my question,” you say as riri plays in your wet curls as your back lays against her chest. you’re positioned between her legs in the tub, letting the smell of the floral bubble bath and the sound of Raveena’s Still Dreaming surround you as you lean into her touch.

“you ask a lot of questions, baby,” riri chuckles and slides her hands to your thighs and starts to rub them. you relax into her, relishing the sensation of her fingers kneading into your soft skin.

you roll your eyes as she massages your legs, “okay, yeah, but you never told me where you got that strap from,” you huff, “like what was that?”

riri’s hands falter slightly at your question, but she catches herself and resumes rubbing your thighs. you pretend not to notice. “it, uh..” she sighs, “don’t laugh.”

“why would i laugh?” you scoff, turning your head to look at her.

“cause yo ass always giggling about something,” ri swats at you, and you smile, “don’t try and hold it back now. look at you, always ready to laugh at someone.”

“just answer the question, ri,” you say impatiently. riri sighs and moves her hands to your shoulders, gripping them firmly.

you sigh and melt into her touch as she rubs circles into your shoulders, “it’s just a project i’ve been working on for a minute,” riri’s hands glide down your back as she rubs your sides, “it started as a joke, but when i met you...i guess i actually had a reason to finish it.”

you bite back a giddy giggle as you turn around in riri’s lap, looking at her. she stares back at you, her eyes gleaming. your chest grows warm as you watch her smile, her perfect set of teeth on full display. “i told you not to laugh,” she pushes a curl from your head.

“i know, i’m sorry, baby,” you plant a kiss onto her forehead, “you’re just so fucking smart, like damn. how’d you even come up with that?”

riri’s eyes widen at the compliment as her grin grows wider. you know how self-critical she is towards herself, so watching her become undone with a simple compliment makes you melt. “thank you, mama,” she reaches up and grips your chin, her wet palm pulling you towards her lips. she kisses you fondly, relishing the way your arms wrap around her waist. the music and the smells fade around you as you get lost in riri’s touch, committing the way she tastes to your memory.

you shiver under her and riri breaks the kiss, leaving your lips cold. you pout at her and lean in for another one, missing her warmth. but she softly pushes you away, “the water’s getting cold, baby,” she smiles, “come on,” she motions for you to get out of her lap.

you climb out of the tub as she lets the water out, watching the bubbles disappear down the drain. you turn around, and riri startles you by wrapping you in a towel and throwing you over her shoulder. you shriek, swinging your feet and laughing, “ri!!”

laughing, she flips you onto the bed and kisses you, intertwining her fingers with yours. you giggle into her mouth and throw the blanket over your naked bodies.

riri groans as her phone starts to ring, breaking the kiss. “hold on, baby, i think that’s work.” you roll your eyes and huff as she reaches over to grab her phone, putting it on speaker. “yeah?”

“riri, where the hell have you been?” smooth xhosa comes from the other side of the line, “you left without saying anything…again.”

“hey, shuri,” riri runs her hands through her braids, “i uh…” she looks at you smirk, “family emergency?”

“i didn’t get this primitive device just for you to lie in my face,” shuri sighs, “hi, y/n.”

your eyes widen as riri rolls hers, “she ain’t even here, you trippin.”

“hi,” you say, giggling when riri scowls at you.

“right. anyways,” you can practically hear shuri’s eye-roll through the screen, “fury’s pissed and he has kamala and me out looking for you. i’ve been trying to cover for your ass but we need you. kamala’s getting annoying.”

“yeah. i’ll be there tomorrow,” riri ignores you when you swat at her arm, frowning, “tell fury i’m busy. ion even need to be there, for real, but aight.”

“yeah, okay,” shuri sighs, “he’s gonna chew you out for missing patrols again.”

“man, ion give a fuck,” riri laughs, “but i’ll hit you back later?”

“yeah. bye, riri. bye, y/n. don’t keep her up too late.” before you can object, shuri hangs up the phone.

“‘be back tomorrow?’” you cross your arms and pout, your frown growing deeper as riri laughs.

“baby, i’ll be back the night after,” riri scoots closer to you and spoons you, letting your hair tickle her nose, “and then no more trips for the rest of the year, unless it’s with you.”

“good.” you smile, relaxing into her arms.

“so fucking needy,” she whispers, laughing and kissing your cheek.

you both drift off to sleep together, with riri snoring softly. riri ended up oversleeping, causing her phone to constantly go off with calls from nick fury, shuri, and even kamala. both of you were oblivious, too busy snoozing in each other’s arms.

⭐️

my masterlist!

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