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#and i leave you hopefully with the soul of the words on it
diorcities · 12 hours
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the swan (preview)
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extended version hopefully ── haechan x afab!reader genre smut content ballet au, womanizer!hyuck, corruption kink, thriller, dark content (graphic violence: a fight, this scene, a vendetta) haechan has a soft spot for reader, based on the swan in some aspects, this scene may vary tho more tba. this doesn't allude to r*pe or any kind of abuse, promise.
the rest of the night slips out of your mind. you don't know how you've walked, or how you've got out of the academy, or how you ended up back on haechan's bike, taking refuge in the warm space of his back as he rides through the city. he hasn't said a word, and you don't think it's necessary. you don't think you can stand it, so he keeps quiet and it's for the best.
you've come to your apartment again, you don't remember telling him the address. your mind feels scattered and dizzy.
the invitation burns on your lips, but you don't utter them, instead your lips tremble, gathering everything that has happened, what would've happened. “why did he notice me? what does he want from me?”
haechan sighs heavily, “isn't obvious? he wants your purity, dove.”
the word comes out wrong for you. hesitant gaze, looking at his confident features tinged with something akin to annoyance. “i guess you're a virgin.”
“w-what?”
“correct me. have you had a boyfriend?” he inquires, “you've never been on a motorbike, you sigh every time i brush against you in the dance piece. you've never been touched like this, have you?” his glowing eyes demand a response that strangles in your throat. “not even by yourself.” his voice comes out hesitantly as if it had barely occurred to him just now. “white and pure, as a dove,” he recites, breathing artificially.
his fingers drum his helmet under your collapse, and you feel him revel. “he wants you pure, he's attracted to corrupt you. that's why he chose you, that's why he wants you above the rest of the girls,” he confesses, tactlessly.
“do you want to get rid of him? you'll have to corrupt yourself. set yourself free.”
“how can i do that?”
“why don't you try to touch yourself? see if that helps.”
“wh-what?...” you bite your lip before you pronounce, “h-how?” your neck looks like it's about to burn and your chest flaps to explode when you see him smile mischievously. eyes taking on a jovial emotion.
“you'll know how.” you see him fidgets with his helmet as he starts the bike. his gloved hand plays with your cheek, “don't think about it tonight, yeah? go to sleep.” he puts the gear on after checking out your features one last time. “but... when you do, just think of me while you're at it.”
“hae.” your hand grabs hold of his forearm as he's about to leave. “would you... stay? please?”
you see him pound, maybe because of your roommate, “she's out.” the words stumble out, tinged with anguish. an eternity goes by where he weighs the possibility of doing it, seeing him slowly slipping through your fingers. “please, i-i want you to stay.”
he grins fleetingly, “you want me to stay?” he articulates slowly.
“would you?” you don't mean to sound so desperate, but up to this point you care little about how ridiculous you look in his eyes, imploring him to stay the night so you're not alone with your thoughts. “i want you to...”
his eyes widen in expectation. “his hands, his fingertips...” a feeling twitches in your stomach, something dirty reveals itself and takes space as you fall into realization: the white that haechan was referring to, beginning to turn gray.
“d'you want me to take care of them?” he says, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
his hand goes to the handlebars but to turn off the bike. the humming ceases as he hops off and towers over you. his intoxicating aroma sheltering your soul. “anything for my dove.”
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since64bce · 2 days
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Hell Within Hell
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Alastor-Radio Demon- x Sinner reader
Synopsis: Alastor has inhibited hell for years. He knows it's ins' and outs'. But when it comes to him, his coppery heart, and an unexpected new-found perspective on his assistant, a new hell is created for him as he tries to wrestle with the shiny new concept of love. Just a few short pieces of writing and some head cannons'. Nothin' fancy.
Word count: Don't know. Warnings: Alastor.
By gosh what a tragedy. What a wonderful, terrible tragedy. What a questionable, concerning tragedy. How lovely it is. How problematic. Did Shakespeare end up in hell for all the souls he stole in the theatre? I pray for him if that was ever the case. And not because his soul wandered into eternal damnation. Oh no, there's a fate much worse than that, and his name is Alastor.
When the heart becomes stale it also becomes a waste of space, a space that could be used for more lung capacity instead. Because of this reason, Alastor often had thoughts of compulsively ripping it right out, especially, strangely, and more so now that it was finally of use. If Shakespeare really was in hell, Alastor wanted to kill him. If he was a bug, he'd place the man beneath Nifty's blade. And if he was in Heaven- which would be unwarranted given all the hearts he's crushed- Alastor would find a way to drag him down into Hell to watch his tragic little heart suffer for eternity. Because it's his texts in which Alastor has stumbled upon. And it's from his texts in which Alastor has learnt about love and all it has to offer.
Alastor is a refrained lover, if you could call the demon a lover at all. At best he's okay at love, if thats what you wanted to call whatever the thing Alastor thinks "love" is.
Being an overlord, you'd think he was capable of anything.
Uhh lower your expectations sis.
Problem No.1 with Alastor (which was really hard to find) is that he's not really the lovey dovey type. Does he get passionate about certain things? Of course darling. But when was the last time it was about a lowly sinner like yourself? (Hear the crickets babe? Yea pretty much that).
However I feel like this is true only for a few years after he's met you.
I'd say it's a "You-fell-first-(but then lowkey realised it ain't never happening type thing so you stopped)-he-fell-harder-(and got confused so didn't pursue it for like six fuxking months)
Being an overlord you'd think he was capable of anything but in all honestly love confuses this sweet🍬, sweet🍭, neurotic👹 boy.
His heart is in tatters and moth eaten like some dusty old drape. Nobody's ever come into his life that mattered to him much before.
And when I say "mattered" it doesn't come under the "slightly useful to him but couldn't care less" umbrella either.
Like it's a genuine feeling of not wishing for somebody to just fucking up and leave his demonic little world.
It's as if you're just so convenient for him to be able to slot you into his crazy, batshit puzzle of a life. And you fit so perfectly and meticulously, and you make it look rather complete, that he just doesn't really feel he needs you gone.🙂🙃
And thats his very lopsided version of love that he hasn't created a full understanding around yet. But hopefully will... one day.💕
Why would someone like him like someone like you!?? 🤯😧
Oh please bitch Alastor in Alastor's world is a special, clever little princess, nobody can top him.
When he first laid eyes on you, you were just another darling sack of shit staying at the Hazbin sorry not sorry. (Boo me idc this is how your love story goes 😤)
You weren't special at all. In fact, to him you were just a normal bad sinner doing the normal bad sinner things. There was nothing alluring about you, there was not a single aura or attractive quirk or special little something on the inside nor the outside that made him love you. You were like a crusty little stray dog, period. Not even a cute one.
In fact not even your death story was cool you got like hit by a bus or something idfc but it was nothin striking babes
You weren't even that bad of a sinner tbh. You were just a lying cheating fu k that got hit by a bus before you could find Jesus and repent
Anyways then you have Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr.Alastor who can do funny shit with his shadows oh dear lord save me
So as I said before, you, my dear, had a little crush for him first. Or, more realistically, you caught the love bug. Because don't we all know how little Nifty loves her bugs (dead).
Yes, you hiccupped on your blushy, fluffy feelings because trying to find genuine love and care within Ali's cold little heart at the time would've been damn near impossible. Like being stuck in a maze within a maze within a stone wall that had no exit.
So, yes dear, a hard pill to swallow ik but you got there in the end .
Over the years following, you and Alastor became a nice little duo. Like an elegant doberman and it's small rat-dog companion (guess which ones which).
Everybody in the Hazbin hotel has their own little niche, whether it be porn-starring or bar tending.
Yours was running errands for Alastor.
In his eyes you were comparable to an assistant even though the title was never officially yours. And he didn't want it to be yours because the role of facilities manager was a one person job.
Besides you did other things than just hotel errands.
You were more like an assistant Alastor. And that suited the both of you just fine. To Alastor you were remarkably useful, to you Alastor was an interesting boss and a form of strange company you somehow enjoyed. His presence, albeit staticky, was charming. He was a hard one to shake off, that man.
And then he began noticing you. And not just in the general way. I mean thats how it all starts off doesn't it?
It starts with a moment.
His boring "normie" of a companion... charmed him in some way. He didn't know how.
It was after one of his avid radio broadcasts when he switched off the set and just sat there in the silent darkness illuminated by the controls. Not even his voice filled the air, which was a strange noise to behold. Oddly peaceful, huh.
And then it got him thinking about your voice and how it could come and disrupt his blissful, peaceful silence at any moment. Pestering him with something new, as the very un-special sound of it filled the room.
You did like to disrupt things.
You've had your fair share of moments you've disrupted.
With your normal voice.
Filling the room.
It got his cogs spinning as he thought about you so normal and dull and boring. But it seemed that he really did know quite a lot about you.
You were never a drug addict in the middle world, never any kind of addict, never any kind of slave to anything or anybody but the lies you told others. Admirable achievement in this crowd down here.
But still, what a boring Mary Sue.
Typical Mary Sue behaviour that you should also try and recover from your compulsive lying, and actually bother to make use of the facilities the Hazbin Hotel had to offer.
Charming. But petty.
Just today he had asked you about an errand you'd run, only to find out that you had lied about running it.
You were supposed to have given some bird food to the cuckoo in the cuckoo clock. It was a fools errand he had given you to make you go away for a second. But you had told him you had actually done it.
Until you admitted you lied.
Inside the broadcast tower, Alastor let out a quiet laugh. He didn't know why it was quiet, he was the only person in the tower, and even if he were with other people its not like he'd care.
But what was so funny?
He thought back to the conversation: "I don't know what you're talking about," you had told him. "I never fed the stupid clock." And then he said, "Oh dear, well thats quite contrary to what I was told before." And you said, "damnit" under your breath and walked away, annoyed at yourself for having broken your sobriety, going to go repent to Charlie for the fifth time that day.
Again, Al found himself smiling ever wider and trying to keep his steady flow of chuckles beneath his fingers. Soon he was hunched over, finding other stories about you drifting to his head.
Unbeknownst to him, the layer of ice on his heart was slowly beginning to melt in the section that he reserved for you.
He realised you were such a funny fickle little thing, he realised he was quite fond of you as his assistant. It made no sense. And after the laughter was over something else took over.
A sense of something between fiery anger and grief contaminated his pores. He realised he had let you into his heart. He tried to quickly freeze it over again, however, it was too late, it seemed you had already brushed its surface.
The next day when you two were busying yourselves with errands, you came across each other in a hallway.
There was something off about his face on this particular day. Because when you looked at his face which was watching over your face, you never found his signature smile. For once you saw his lips relaxed. For once you saw his elusive eyes really looking at you like nobodies ever looked at you before.
And then he walked right past like nothing happened. However something had happened. Something incredibly unexpected and wrong. Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr. Alastor had found someone who mattered.
Boring, normie, lacklustre, lukewarm, little. Old. You.
It's a quiet day at the Hazbin Hotel. But it's always a quiet day isn't it? Hell is rock bottom, and once you hit rock bottom, well, what's the point in not wandering around for a bit?
You were only here because Charlie picked you up before the Sinners mentality could reach you.
At the same time, you were also only here because of Alastor.
Alastor, the lean, lanky overlord which you couldn't help but like somewhat. Cold and calculating despite the warm colours he wore. charming and pleasant despite his scary appeal. He was one reason why you enjoyed your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.
But he was also one reason why you hated it.
Lately anyway.
You've tried to bring it up with him but he simply won't listen. He doesn't even laugh anymore he just grimaces. It's been two whole months since he last smiled at you and you feel as though your beginning to get withdrawals- as sappy as that sounds. But it's true. As funny as it is to say, hell seems less pleasant, and even the Hazbin, despite Miss Morningstar's lovely presence, is falling short of joy and dunking deeper into the gloomy reality that is damnation.
They say that reality is just your perception. However, why has your perception been so fragmented by just a absence of a single smile?
Oh but you knew didn't you? You still loved him.
You thought you were past it but you weren't. You're such a brilliant liar that you can even trick yourself into believing things that aren't true. How remarkable. How depressing.
Ugh.
He's probably finally gotten bored of you. In fact, you've probably bored him into some kind of chronic depression that triggers every time he see's your boring, depressing face. Double ugh. And now you can't stand to look in the mirror. Sometimes you lay awake at night wondering what you've done to him and if it's you that's broken his perfect smile or something else. But everything he does points at you, and with this ridiculous jacket of blame on your shoulders you don't know how to look in his eyes anymore without feeling humiliated.
Oh and now he's behind you, watching you sit beneath the stupid cuckoo clock with a pile of birdseed in your palm. Humiliating? No something worse than that. You must look ridiculous. Desperate. Ridiculously desperate.
'Well, I feel it's too late now don't you? That ridiculous lie is still a lie, also the bird isn't real if you didn't get the memo,' taunted the inevitably superficial voice of the radio host. You could feel him behind you but you couldn't see him. The mans presence was very strong, a quirk, perhaps, that came with being an overlord. Although at times you could hardly tell when he'd enter a room at all. 'Now, why are you sitting, staring at the wall like a dummy? Did dear Charlie put you in time out for being a liar?'
'Fuck you, Alastor,' you huffed, 'you know I'm working on it.'
'Not making much progress I see.'
You could hear his non-smile in his voice. You didn't even turn around, you didn't have to, plus, you didn't want to.
'After you're finished working out your lying problem, perhaps you should focus on your swearing problem,' he said. You could hear the ruffling of Al's suit as he presumably crouched down, and then the cold lick of his breath as he got close to your ear. 'It's not so classy, my dear, for someone like you to have such a foul mouth.'
'Fuck- I know- just fuck off!'
You heard Alastor tut behind you, sighing disapprovingly.
You turned and looked him in the eyes. They looked bemused, however, his mouth told you a different story. He looked slightly chilling without that smile of his. Perhaps that was another reason for your sleeping troubles lately. 'Go ahead and do it you creep, kill me, I know ya wanna,' you declared, he cocked his head to the side, terrifyingly interested in your proposition. You had to resist the urge to swallow. 'Also now I've seen you without a smile I think I've seen it all, kill me I'm ready.'
You were half joking, but you still watched Alastor out of the corner of your eye, a habit you had developed.
'No.'
'That's not like you, Alastor.'
'What can I say? I am a man of many surprises. And you're far too valuable to me to kill you, assistant.' He added the last part in slowly, watching you like a hawk.
And then you saw it.
The faintest glimmer of tooth.
The littlest crease beside his lip.
And did he just call you valuable? A compliment from Alastor? Kill me now, you thought, it wasn't gonna get much better than this. And then Alastor's distinct vocals piped up again, 'ha ha! You look dumbfounded, sweetheart. Is there something I can help you with?'
His smile disappeared. And so did that feeling of hope in your stomach, leaving you empty again, and so you said, 'what do you even want Alastor? why'd you come find me? You're just toying with me now.'
'I'm afraid I toy with everyone, assistant.'
You felt him watching you as you crossed the room and put the birdseed in the bin, you felt him watching you as you dusted off your hands and made your way to the door.
'Smile,' you ordered. One final attempt.
Once again he cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, no expression in the mouth and whatever expression was in the eyes seemed to be told in another language. 'And what do I get if I do that for you?'
'My smile.'
-
Alastor has been a mess lately.
A clean mess no doubt. But he's been walking around half naked for months, alas, he can't bring himself to smile, which was more like a piece for clothing for him now more than anything. It got to the point where the Radio Demon thought that it had finally lost it's sincerity and emotion. But clearly not, as it's absence has been due to nothing but sincerity and emotion, two things which Alastor had never really exercised. Two things which were out of his hands.
And it's been ever since he found you wandering the hellish plains of his mind.
Yes, he was the skeleton in the closet, the monster beneath the bed, the not-your-typical-spooky-guy. But maybe he's finally found a weakness, and that thought slapped his smile right off his face.
And his assistant was all to blame.
You were all to blame.
He found his hands shaking as he looked at you, he carefully analysed that angry look about you as you stood rigidly at the door. There was nothing threatening about you, your face wasn't scary like his was, however he found himself mildly irritated by your defiances' today, mildly saddened at your obvious depression, and mildly livid that he couldn't get you off his mind.
So no, he wasn't threatened, you just mildly made him want to pull his hair out.
'Smile.'
'And what do I get if I do that for you?'
'My smile.'
Your smile? And what was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to rip your mouth off and take your smile for his own? He looked at you, he looked at your lips, imagined touching them, imagining slicing them off you as your blood spilled and you screamed. And then he found himself putting the thought down, finding that he didn't really want that thought. How strange. Your smile wouldn't suit his face anyway, it looks much sweeter on you.
'If you smile at me I'll smile at you back,' you clarified, still with that rather hostile look in your eyes. You didn't really look in the smiling mood darling.
But it gave Alastor pause for thought.
Oh. So that's what you meant. Interesting. An equal exchange.
Al brought the memory of your smile up in his mind. It was pleasant enough. Charming enough... Oh who was he kidding? Sometimes he wished you could tell him the lies he told himself so he'd believe them better.
Your smile. It was sweet and dainty and lovely, and there was not a night that had passed in which he hadn't thought about it in some fleeting way.
Squeezing, hurting, reaching. He wanted to rip his heart out right then and there as he looked at you glaring at him from the doorframe.
And that's when he walked right up to you without warning. You barely had time to back away. And he took in your wonderful face with all of your wonderful features, from the lovely curve of your nose, to the shape of your very skull, to the fat of your cheeks to the pigment of your skin (which had turned wonderfully rosy beneath his fingers).
And then he took in your smile.
And he realised he was smiling too.
And he was so angry with himself, and irritated at you for making him feel this way. And so he leaned in and carefully placed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. Wanting to do it again and again and again but worried that he could smudge away the perfection that was you.
In the end he just grinned at you.
...
And then walked away like nothing happened.
...
A/N- Ik the tiny one shot at the end is shit but it's like 1 am and I have school tomorrow, I've watched like 4 episodes and I don't even know who tf Lucifer is yet so don't even come at me bitchens 🖕🥷
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fish-and-forbear · 1 year
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I think I am doing okay, here.
I wish so many things could have been different. My heart aches for it. But I wouldn't have found my voice, otherwise, nor would I have met so many wonderful people and creatures.
I wish the other one would worry less. It's very silly to realize he thought I was the panicked one... now I've organized my mind and honed my edge, and he's the one who keeps feeling down...
I don't entirely understand why... life is very good. Everyone is getting a little better. It aches because I can feel it like a physical creature clawing in the skull, and whispering all of the misery in this world, the atrocities, the tragedies, the possibilities of so many things ending, or of getting hurt or worse for who he is. And being afraid for the people he cares about...
But that doesn't help us sleep right now. It doesn't change that tomorrow morning the sun will rise and we don't have work and we could do anything, within reason of course.
I'm not sure. Maybe I am the stupid one for being so positive. But one of us has to be, now.
Maybe it's just my instincts waking up again. It's so easy to throw my aching heart and memories away when someone I care about needs me. And right now, once more, we just need to rest.
Nothing bad is even happening! We had a nice day. We talked to friends, we played a game and lost track of time because it was so much fun. I liked that game and the name is appropriate, Loop Hero. Ironic but fitting! We helped a friend feel better after a nightmare. And now it's OUR turn to rest.
Nothing is wrong. Everything is alright. Many big steps forward this coming week. I feel his worry creeping into my heart too, but there's no need for it. We were brave and confident before, we can be that way again. :)
- Grist
#system journaling#see I can remember what words I need to use...! Sometimes.#I think I made him sad because my friends have their own blogs now and I immediately wanted to look at them#he let me but it just made him upset. But why? I chose to unfollow. He felt better after that. Why worry?#I am familiar and content with friendships between firey souls that do not last very long.#Better to rest them down gently. You should always leave friends at least a little bit better than you found them#If I did that then I am happy :)#I just wish he would believe me that it's alright... I know who I am... even if other people see me as a mistake that's fine#I've been around too long to care too much about that. Even from my own family. Trauma makes long bonds difficult#Sometimes when they are healed they can rekindle but..... foresight is a gift and a curse for these things. Better to let them go entirely#than hold onto what isn't there.#... I think he needs to talk to his friend again. The one that lives here.#I think he needs closure that these things are alright. After all that was 8 years and they are so much happier now :)#Hmm. This is getting long#I will let it rest. The heart is already a little softer and everything is less tense. His memory is AWFUL and he can never remember what I#talk about on my own but hopefully he will see that I am content and stop worrying so much about me. And focus more on better things#like making my damned music list like he keeps saying he will! But that is a joke to make him laugh :) There is never any rush.
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pprodsuga · 2 months
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tides of regret | heeseung
summary: in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.
notes: aaand she's here! this is 24.4K words worth of my heart and soul. consider this a token of my appreciation for welcoming me on enhablr. i sincerely hope you enjoy it. <3
deep cuts: #1
warnings: angst/internal self doubt, playful banter, dirty talking, praise, slight degradation, oral (m and f receiving), dry humping, fingering, mentions of exhibitionism and face sitting, nipple sucking, spit, brief moment of anal (tongue only), condom removal, unprotected sex, creampie.
For @enha-stars – may this story rip you apart and stitch you back together.
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Incheon feels lonely at three in the morning. 
The overhead lights being turned off because of the lack of travelers at this hour makes the airport feel bigger than it actually is. It’s too quiet without the familiar sounds of luggage wheels on the linoleum or overhead speakers announcing flight changes every ten minutes. You don’t think you’ve ever been to an airport so early in your life. 
It’s quiet enough to leave you alone with your bothersome thoughts. In the years you’ve been away from home as you studied abroad, you can’t help but feel a gravitational pull towards life in Seoul and the people in it. The familiarity of your home outweighs the adventure you once yearned for in your youth, and now you’re left with the exciting notion that, this time, you’ll know when you’ll be coming back.
The terminal has an abundance of seating. Your backpack rests on the seat beside you as Jay double checks the gate number while the rest of your friends find a spot on the seats next to you, attempting to find an ounce of comfort in the dimly lit area.
“I know leaving early saved us hundreds of dollars, but I need sleep,” Sunghoon says from beside you. His usually well kept hair falls in all sorts of places like he woke up without a second thought and hailed a taxi the minute he opened his eyes. 
“You’ll thank me later,” Jay says. “We can sleep on the plane.”
“Our flight doesn’t leave for another two hours,” Jake whines from beside him as he yawns. “How am I supposed to sleep on these god forsakes chairs?” 
“Quit whining and try,” Jay retorts. He looks behind him to see the rest of your friend group approach before glancing over to you. “Doing okay?” 
“How come Y/N gets preferential treatment?” Jake beckons. 
“Because she isn’t a nuisance like you,” Jay immediately fires back before diverting his attention towards you again. 
“I’m alright,” you say, stifling a yawn behind your hand. “Just cold and sleepy.” 
“Hopefully they turn off the damn AC,” Sunghoon says as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. “I feel like my veins are being injected with ice.”
“It’ll warm up when more people come,” Jay reasons. “I wish there was a coffee stand that was open. I need a cup.” 
“I could go for one,” you agree. “I’m trying to stay awake for the next couple of hours so I can sleep on the plane.” 
The rest of your friend group appear behind Jay and you look down to check your phone for any notifications when Heeseung catches your eye. It takes you by surprise and you abruptly look back at your screen and busy yourself by aimlessly scrolling through social media as he attempts to occupy the empty seat beside you, but Jake beats him to it.
“I’m gonna freeze to death and then all of you are gonna have to deal with my frozen body.” Jake dramatically slouches down onto the seat until his head finds your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek as if trying to find comfort in you. “Jesus, Y/N, you’re so warm.”
You laugh. “I wore layers.” 
“You’re gonna regret that when we get on the plane,” Jake mumbles. 
Heeseung, from the corner of your eyes, opts to move to the seats in front of you. You try not to pay him any mind.
You snort. “Yeah, well I can take these layers off while you freeze until you become an icicle.” Jake hums when you let your head fall onto his. 
“You know I’m not built for the cold. Australia’s my home.”
“And yet you moved to Korea,” Sunghoon provokes. 
Jungwon and Riki are rummaging through the bag of snacks you’d brought for an early breakfast until the restaurants and coffee stands around you open up. Jake’s right, it’s far too cold to stop shivering, but you suppose you’re grateful that the discomfort distracts you from sleeping too early. 
“I can’t believe we’re finally going on this trip,” Sunoo says from above you. With your head still on Jake’s, you turn to look at the boy speaking. “I’m really excited for you to show us where you’ve been for the past four years.”
A tiny smile graces your lips. “I’m excited to show you around London and Paris. The latter is a two hour train ride. My friends and I would go every few weekends or so to explore the city. Pictures and videos don’t do them justice.” You sigh as you reminisce. “I really did think that I’d end up living there when I graduated.” 
“Why didn’t you?” 
“Missed home too much, I guess.” You shrug. “Though, I can’t believe Riki went through a growth spurt in the last two years that I was gone.”
“You went back to Okayama before Y/N came back for holiday break, right?” Jungwon asks, looking between the both of you.
“That’s right,” Riki says. “I was sad that I couldn’t see you before you went back to school.”
“Now he’s twice my height.” You gesture at the younger boy. He’s too shy with the sudden affection and chooses to bury his head in Jungwon’s shoulder. “You were so little.”
“Shut up,” he mumbles. 
“I can’t believe you’re fluent in English now.” Jungwon pushes Riki off of his arm. “You, Jake, and Jay are kind of scary when you speak English.”
“It was a little hard at first. I used to watch a lot of American cinema so I could understand it better than I could speak it. But I can’t lie, it’s fun being able to talk to them in English.”
“You were so cute trying to string phrases together during your first summer back,” Jay coos. “Texting her in English was funny because she couldn’t understand the difference between spelling.”
“Poor Jake.” You pull your head from his and look down at him. “You probably had aneurysms looking at my grammar.” 
You lift your head to see that the aforementioned has fallen asleep amongst the conversation with his mouth slightly ajar and soft snores echoing past your ear. You don’t move when Jay asks if you want Jake off of your shoulder, but you shake your head.
Conversation falls flat when the group unanimously decides that sleepiness is overtaking the need to socialize. Jay keeps checking his watch to look out for the time while your eyes try to look anywhere but at Heeseung. 
It’s odd, the way two people can lose a friendship overnight. The heartbreak that came with romantic rejection wasn’t nearly as bad as realizing texts and phone calls were far fewer in between the moment you had arrived back in Europe to finish your studies. It hurt to know that neither one of you felt comfortable enough to see each other when you were back in your hometown unless the two of you were invited to hang out with mutual friends. 
Still, seeing Heeseung after he had rejected your confession felt like a punch to the gut. 
Long gone were the days of being able to send him unimportant updates about your life abroad or what you were doing at any given summer day back home. You couldn’t ask him to go to the restaurants you used to frequent near his house or yours. You certainly couldn’t call him at random hours because you were bored and missed his voice. 
It wasn’t for the lack of trying. It felt like things might've gone back to normal after a short period of not talking, but your texts going unanswered and your calls going to voicemail was all you needed to know. 
Perhaps it’s why you’re comfortable spearheading this vacation with Jay, who had made it a point to visit you in London when you’d chosen to stay behind instead of going home for the holiday break. The two of you had never spent time alone prior to then, but it touched you that he’d go out of his way to dedicate an entire day to visit you when he was there for a family vacation. 
Coming back to Korea the summer after graduating felt like you were making the right choice, even if your head was telling you to find a home in Europe. Still fresh from your unresolved rejection, stepping off of the plane and knowing you wouldn’t be returning back to your university’s town made the uncomfortable reality of coming face-to-face with Heeseung sink in. You’d have to live with the consequences. 
But it’s been eight months since you returned, six months since Jay’s dad was gracious enough to offer you a position on his marketing team, and five months since he encouraged your entire friend group to take a trip to your old stomping grounds. 
The proposition felt too sudden, especially with how little experience you had working with his team, but you’d spend an evening with the Park family for him to consider you an honorary member. Though, you’re sure Jay might’ve told him something happened between you and Heeseung, especially after telling everyone you wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays. 
To this day, you haven’t uttered a single word to your friends about what happened the night Heeseung rejected your love confession. If you know him as well as you think you do, you don’t think he's told anyone either. 
“Cafes are opening up,” Jay notes. Sunghoon’s ears perk up. “Three of us should go get food and drinks while the rest save our seats.” 
The airport overhead lights must’ve turned on while you were deep in thought. Jay’s right, the coffee stands have opened and it’s likely due to the new influx of travelers who’ve arrived at the airport. Foot traffic is still light and you know Jay wants to get ahead of the crowd. 
Jake has woken up because of the growing murmur around him and lifts himself off of your head to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He yawns once more but tries his best not to fall asleep again.
“How long was I out?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take,” Sunghoon answers.
“Sorry for sleeping on you,” Jake apologizes. 
“It’s okay. You needed it.” He scrunches his face, not used to the new lighting. “Jay, I’ll come with you to get coffee. I need to stretch my legs.” 
“I’ll help as well.” Heeseung speaks for the first time in a while and his voice nearly catches you off guard. 
“Sure.” Jay gathers everybody’s orders before the two of you follow him around the terminal. 
The line isn’t unbearably long, but with Heeseung towering behind you, it feels like you’ve been standing for hours. You shift from one foot to the other in order to find a happy medium to no avail. Jay orders for the group and you pay attention to him more than you care to when you realize Heeseung is now standing beside you to make room for more people to wait in line. He’s considerate like that and you hate it. 
When the baristas are finished with your order, you reach for the bag of sandwiches in your haste to escape Heeseung. But your fingers touch the steam and you drop the bag into the counter with a hiss.
“Careful,” Heeseung says. “Don’t get hurt, please.” 
Your clumsy nature was always something he teased you for. Heeseung sounds so sincere about his worry that you think you’d rather him pour all of the hot coffee on you instead. 
“Thanks.” You grab the bag with so much as a single moment of eye contact before realizing Jay has started walking back. 
Breakfast is eaten in silence. Everyone is too tired to speak, save for Jake whose twenty minute nap has rendered him a little more awake than the rest of you. You and Sunghoon share your egg sandwich and chocolate croissant respectively without a word spoken between the two of you. 
Meanwhile, Heeseung is staring at the way your thighs are close to Sunghoon’s. He had shifted his body closer to yours in order to form a makeshift table so that sharing pastries wouldn’t result in crumbs on the floor. You can feel Heeseung's gaze on your kneecap and it makes your face flush. 
Sunoo and Jake offer to throw everybody’s trash away when you’re all done eating. The airport is in full swing by now and everyone has said their graces and apologized to Jay for giving him a hard time with how early they arrived. 
It seems that sleep has threatened to overtake you. You’re waiting in line to scan your plane ticket and board the aircraft, but the sudden warmth of the airport has caused you to yawn a few too many times. Riki’s standing in front of you and his height makes for a perfect makeshift wall to lean on. Or, that’s what your tired brain is telling you, because you slouch forward and let your cheek rest against his back as you close your eyes. 
“Sleepy girl,” you hear him chuckle. You merely nod in acknowledgement. 
Your comfort is short lived when he softly nudges you because the line has moved. Soon, you scan your ticket and give the airline agent a smile as thanks before waiting to set foot on the aircraft. 
Sunghoon notices your dropped shoulders and wordlessly takes your backpack off of you. 
“You don’t need to do that,” you say with a frown when you see Sunghoon carrying your belongings with him. 
“Let me hold it,” says Sunghoon. “You look like you’re about to fall over with the extra weight.” 
“If you insist.”
“Let us take care of you, yeah?” Jay interrupts, bumps his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been running all over Europe these past four years and we’ve only seen you a handful of times. You deserve to relax on this trip.” 
“I can’t believe you guys are being so sweet on me. I know that’s ending the second we get back to Korea.” 
The two boys laugh. “Well, it’s only fair, I guess. You’re like, the mom friend.”
“Jay is the mom friend.” The aforementioned doesn’t argue. 
The squeeze of the aircraft is tight and you’re desperately trying to look for your seat. It seems that Sunghoon is sitting in your row, which excites you, but you’ve come to realize that you’ve obtained the ungodly middle seat. You make peace with it for a brief moment before Heeseung clears his throat awkwardly.
“Let’s switch seats,” he says from behind you. His ticket shows the window seat right next to yours. “I know you hate middle seats.” 
“No, I couldn’t ask that of you.” 
“You’re not asking.” He says it with a smile and it makes you cower into yourself. “You should move to your new seat so we don’t hold up the line.” 
Heeseung suggests it in a way that is reminiscent of the days where he’d give up his sweet treats because you wanted a taste. It tugs at your heartstrings but you don’t have time to think about that when you notice how the plane is starting to fill up. 
Reluctantly, you slide into the window seat while Heeseung and Sunghoon follow suit. Your seat belts are buckled and in no time, the aircraft takes flight. 
For the next hour, Heeseung looks like he wants to say something to you. The headphones you've brought do well to cancel out the noise, for the most part. You can see from the corner of your eye that he glances at you from time to time, but you ignore it and choose to get comfortable for the long haul. 
When you notice the flight attendants come with the beverage cart, you take it as a cue to get comfortable and try to get some sleep for the next few hours. Likely due to the lack of sleep from the night prior, you fall asleep as soon as your head rests against the plane.
You don’t hear Heeseung requesting an extra bottle of water for you.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
When you come to, you’re barely able to register that it’s time to eat the first meal on the flight. You take your headphones off and put it in your backpack as you blink the sleep out of your eyes. 
“Chicken or beef?” 
Heeseung looks at you, expecting an answer.
“Hm?”
He laughs softly. “Chicken or beef?” 
Your eyes dart between him and the flight attendants when you realize they’re about to approach.
“I heard them asking people which meal they want,” Heeseung explains. “So, chicken or beef?”
“Beef.” You clear your throat. 
“Beef it is.”
Sunghoon requests chicken when the flight attendant arrives. Heeseung orders beef for the both of you before you get the chance. If he notices you looking at him strangely, he doesn’t comment on it. 
The food comes quicker than expected and the meal tastes decent, though you’re trying your best not to elbow Heeseung as you cut away at your portion. He seems engrossed in the movie in front of him while you peek at what he’s watching—Iron Man, to no one’s shock. 
You soften a bit at the nostalgia that comes with Heeseung and Marvel, namely the rainy days in your youth spent marathoning the superhero movies. There had been one year in high school when he’d dressed up as Tony Stark and you as Pepper Potts despite a few girls your age whispering behind your back at the matching costumes out of jealousy. You don’t think you can think of the franchise without thinking of Heeseung. 
The memories almost bring a smile to your face. Heeseung seems to notice you glancing at his screen in between bites. You avoid eye contact when you realize he caught you staring and focus on cutting your meal, praying that Heeseung will stop looking at you and watch the movie instead. 
But he takes one earbud out and holds it to you. 
“Do you want to watch it with me?” He’s halfway through. You tell him such but he doesn’t care. 
“I don’t want to jump in halfway through.” 
“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t done that before.” 
Heeseung says it with such nonchalance that it makes your stomach drop. He sees the way your eyes falter for a moment and the way you glance between his hand and the screen. You try to come up with excuses to refuse his offer, but you’ve got eight more hours until you land.
“Sure,” you settle. Heeseung gives you one headphone and resumes watching.
Between the meals being picked up and tray tables being put away, you manage to fall asleep in your seat. Sunoo sits in front of you and upon coming back from a quick bathroom trip, sees your head resting on Heeseung’s shoulder with his cheek propped on your head. The two of you are fast asleep despite the credits rolling and he can’t help but snap a quick photo. 
You wake up some hours later when Sunghoon says your name. The cabin lights turning on temporarily blinds your vision as you wake up when you realize you’d managed to push yourself back enough to rest yourself against Heeseung’s arm. 
“Oh God,” you say in shock, pulling yourself and the seat upright. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
“It’s okay,” he replies, like he means it. “Sleeping on planes is uncomfortable. But I know you know that.” 
You nod. “Yeah. It's too hard to get comfortable.”
“I can’t believe we’re spending two weeks in Europe. I’ve never been outside of Korea and Japan before. You’ll have to help me with my English.”
“Jay or Jake can also help with that.” You say it with a yawn and Heeseung’s eyes cast to the floor for a brief moment. You barely notice, gathering your own belongings as the flight descends. 
“Yeah, I guess they can.” 
When you land, the familiar disorientation of the time difference truly wakes you up. It’s eleven in the morning when the plane door finally opens and Jay’s moving a step ahead of you as he occupies space in the aisle way to grab his belongings. You follow suit and wait for your turn to exit amongst your friends and other travel goers.
Stepping out of the plane and into the familiar terrain of the Heathrow Airport reignites your attentiveness and you smile at the fond memories of being greeted by your university friends upon arriving. The familiar atmosphere of English travelers milling around the gate warms your chest with nostalgia. 
You wait for the boys to emerge before signaling Jay, who follows beside you as you walk towards the baggage claim area. You lead him with little trouble down the escalator as the rest of your friends follow suit, yawning in an attempt to wake themselves up. 
“It’s weird seeing you in your element,” Jay comments as he stands beside you, periodically checking the turnstile for his luggage. “A good kind of weird.” 
“This airport might as well be my second home,” you tell him. “It feels routine to wait for my luggage at this point.”
“I’m tempted to sleep when we get to the hotel but I don’t want to mess up my sleep schedule more than it already is.” Jay pulls his luggage. 
“Yeah, that’s smart. I think we should take an hour to freshen up and find a place to eat before we go exploring.”
“I can already hear Jake whining about it.” 
The two of you share a laugh. “He’ll just have to get used to it. We can have an early night and rest up before we explore tomorrow.” 
“He slept on the plane, for the most part,” Jay informs. “Surprisingly, he didn’t snore as loudly as he usually does.” He spots your luggage and takes it off of the belt for you. 
On the other side of the carousel, Heeseung and Sunoo are standing together to find their own luggages. 
“You guys looked pretty cozy,” Sunoo comments. “It was nice seeing you two like that again.”
“It felt nice,” he mutters. “I really missed her.” 
Heeseung doesn’t have to tell Sunoo what happened between the two of you for him to know that you two aren’t as close as you used to be. The older boy feels nearly ashamed that his own friends have caught up on his awkward demeanor.
“Well, she’s back for good and we’re here on vacation. Try not to dwell on whatever it is that’s making you think too hard.”
Heeeung laughs. “I’ll try, Sunoo. It’s just hard when we’re not as close. How can I compete when we’re in her college town and how will I talk to her in Paris?”
“Well, you never know,” Sunoo says as he picks up his luggage. “Anything can happen in the City of Love.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The hotel itself is modest in size. Quaint, old cobblestone surrounding the entryway like you remember it. The people are busy walking in and out of the meeting rooms in the lobby as you walk to the concierge to sort out the rooming situation. Jay stands beside to help distribute the keys and the employee behind the desk bids you a good stay. 
The view from the fifth floor is spectacular already. You catch glimpses of the streets of London below you, street lights decorating the sidewalk and flowers surrounding the city. This feels like the London you remember and it adds a slight pep in your step. 
“Alright, it’s decided that three of you are gonna share,” you say as you reach the first room. “The other four will be split into two rooms and I’ll get a room for myself.”
“That’s not fair,” Jake huffs. 
“I refuse to share a room with any of you.” You pocket the key to the single bedroom. “Plus, Jay’s mom helped me make the arrangements when we planned the trip.”
“Favoritism,” Jake coughs. You nudge his side.
“To make it fair, everyone will pick up a key card without knowing the room number and flip it. That’ll determine who you room with.”
“Alright,” Jungwon says. “Fair enough.”
One by one, your friends pick their key cards and discover their roommates. Jake, Sunoo, and Riki are the unlucky three who will be rooming together for the duration of the week. Jay and Sunghoon are in the room directly across from theirs while Heeseung and Jungwon share a room. 
“Let’s meet at the lobby in an hour,” Jay suggests. “We can get some lunch and do some exploring before deciding on dinner.”
“We can take it easy and sleep early tonight,” you add in. “I know that flying internationally is always a bitch and I try to time my sleep when I need to.”
The eight of you part ways. Your suite has a beautiful view of the sky and the room itself makes you feel like the main character of a romance film. The bed is just to your liking with pillows stacked to the nines. It feels nice to have a moment to yourself. With your friend Yunjin backing out of the trip at the last minute due to family conflicts, you hadn’t had time to think about anything other than arriving at the hotel safely. 
You busy yourself with a shower and freshen up, pulling out options for you to wear for the rest of the night. You settle with something stylish yet comfortable and put enough makeup on your face until you’re satisfied with the person staring back at you in the bathroom mirror. 
True to your word, you enter the lobby when you said you would. Jay and Sunghoon are already downstairs by the seats. Sunghoon stands to offer you the loveseat but you decline politely and sift through your phone until the rest of the guys arrive. 
When they do, it’s like all eight of you collectively agree that hunger has overtaken you. You know of a nearby cafe that serves sandwiches from your days in university. You lead them to the quaint restaurant that has your friends staring at the art on the walls as you greet the cashier and order. 
It’s a slow moment for the eight of you as you all eat in relative silence, the sound of quiet slurping audible from the coffees everyone has chosen to drink. 
“Did you spend a lot of time here?” Jungwon asks. 
“Around the area, yeah,” you say, looking around. The outdoor seating area is just towards the edge of the street with the weather being a cool, cloudy day. “I loved coming to cafe’s like these with my friends after class. We’d study until they kicked us out and then go for a drink or two.” 
“We should go to a pub while we’re here,” Jake suggests. “I’ve always wanted to see an English pub. We have a few back in Australia.” 
“I know just the place! My friend’s brother owns it and they know I’ll be in town for the next week. It would be nice to catch up with them.” 
“Hopefully your friends here kept you out of trouble,” Sunghoon teases. You flick him with your fingers. 
“I’m the most responsible one out of you seven and don’t you forget that.” 
“Do you miss being here now that you’re back?” Riki asks in between sandwich bites. “God, I love London already.” 
“You’re going to choke if you don’t slow down.” He apologies and takes a single bite. “Well, I think I miss my friends a lot. I don’t necessarily miss being in university, but I miss the freedoms that come with it.”
“I still can’t believe you spent four years of your life here,” Sunghoon says. “That’s insane when you think about how you cried when your aunt took you to Tokyo for a week when you were in middle school.”
The boys laugh and you frown. “I was twelve, okay? You wound me. But yeah, I think I grew out of my shell in high school and had this urge to travel but didn’t know how to do it. I was surprised when my parents encouraged me to apply to King’s College, even more so when I got accepted.”
“You’ve always been too good to stay in one place for too long,” Jake says. “We got close until halfway through our first year of high school, I think. I always got the sense that you wanted more than what our hometown could offer.” 
“I always wanted to move to the heart of Seoul eventually. But I think I needed to come here in order to figure that out.”
“Would you really have stayed in London if you had the chance?” 
You avoid looking at Heeseung, whose attention averted from his phone to you. 
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “But what I do know is that I’m happy to be back in Korea and I’m happy to be traveling to Europe.” 
“You always did have that sense of adventure,” Heeseung says. “I remember you were the one who always got us in trouble when we explored a little too far.” 
“Your mom was pissed that time I walked a little too far down the shoreline when we went to Jeju.” The memory feels warm despite your discomfort at having Heeseung’s eyes on you. “I didn’t know who she wanted to kill more, me or you.”
“Definitely me. You could do no wrong in her eyes.”
“What happened?” Sunoo asks. 
“My family and Heeseung’s took a trip to Jeju Island when we were around seven, if I remember correctly. I’d taken swimming lessons and thought I could show off my new skills at the beach we were at, but there was a wave that was a bit too much for me to handle.”
“She was nearly swallowed by the ocean.” Heeseung hits his knee with his palm as he recalls the memory. “I mean, I was seven and it seemed like the wave was gigantic but to my mom, it must’ve been just tall enough that she could see over it.”
“She yelled at him for the rest of the night because she had to pull me out from under the water,” you add. “I was fine. My parents laughed it off but his mom was so pissed at him for not telling me to come back to the shore.”
Echoes of laughter fill the space. It feels nice to be able to laugh like this with Heeseung, temporarily forgetting why you were so awkward around him in the first place. 
When the check is paid, you lead the group around the area. Sunghoon takes out his camera and captures everything that inspires him while Sunoo and Riki are off to explore the shops around. It brings warmth to your chest to see your friends enthusiastically exploring the space you once called home. It had been a dream of yours since Jay came to visit and let you drag him around town for the day. Having them with you feels like you’re healing a part of yourself. 
You duck into the quiet bookstore you used to frequent while you were a student. Filled with novels and trinkets from floor to ceiling, it feels familiar to you. 
You get lost in thought when you glance at the books in front of you and you don’t notice Heeseung approaching. 
“Still love books?” 
“Jesus,” you gasp, clutching your chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he laughs. “Seems like you still scare easily.” You hate that he knows you so well. Clearing your throat, you put the book back. 
“Yes, to both. I used to come to this bookstore a lot when I had free time.” 
He looks around. “It looks like a nice place.”
“They have a reading nook in the back. The owner is this sweet older woman who was the first person to help me with my English when I first moved. I think she let me read books for free because I used to bring her sweets.”
“That sounds like something you’d do.” You cast your eyes to the floor. “It’s crazy that there’s parts of you that I don’t know.” 
“Yeah,” you mumble solemnly. Heeseung’s eyes bore into the side of your face as you pretend to look at the titles of the books. 
“Do you talk to your college friends often?” 
“All the time. My closest friends live all over the place. Two of them are from the area, one went to live in the States, and a few live in Busan.”
“I’ll bet it was nice to have some Korean friends when you moved. I remember you used call me to tell me about your first semester here.” 
You can’t help but think about the first few months after you moved when you would call Heeseung for a bit of comfort when things felt too overwhelming. With Korea being nine hours ahead, you always felt a little too bothersome phoning when it was the middle of the night for him, not used to the time difference. But he always answered you or called back when he had the chance. 
You’d spend hours on the phone, talking to him about how difficult it was to learn English and how making friends was not as easy as you thought it would be. Navigating the city felt lonely and isolating because you’d barely made friends in your classes in the first few weeks. Heeseung was there through all of it, reminding you that being eighteen years old in a new country made you brave despite feeling like you were a failure for not grasping a hold on life like you thought you would. 
Falling asleep on the phone with him became a routine, too. Whether it was you who fell asleep after a long day or Heeseung, who had stayed up listening to your worries, the sound of his breathing made it feel like you were back home in Korea instead of exploring a grand new world. 
Soon enough, you could talk your way around and piece together conversations with your classmates until you’d found friends who shared similar interests. Heeseung was the first person you told and the first person to tell you how proud he was that you extended your roots to learn about yourself away from home. You always thrived off of his praise as if making him proud was something you never sought out to do, but appreciated when it happened.
But that was four years ago. Whatever friendship you had with him then is not the one you have with him now. 
“It was nice,” you settle. “I miss my college friends. You might get to meet some later in the week.” 
“Nice,” he mutters to himself when you walk past him. “That’s really nice.” 
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The rest of the week is spent in your old stomping grounds, from touring your campus, to shopping, to sightseeing. The eight of you split up more often than not to explore different areas based on mutual interest. You find that Heeseung tends to gravitate towards you and you aren’t sure if it’s because he feels guilty for rejecting you or because he genuinely wants to explore what you want to do. 
Still though, at least one other person joins you. It feels nice to have a buffer to avoid any awkward conversation or moments, especially when Heeseung trips over his words trying to talk to you. 
The week goes by too quickly for your liking. Spending time in London has felt like coming back home, in a way. You’ll always have your memories here and this city will remain the same when you return in the future. Now, it no longer feels like the place you escape too because things got too hard back home. 
Even with Heeseung next to you more often than not, you’ve found a happy medium The awkwardness dissipates when you set aside your indifference to show everybody your favorite places, watching them explore the city for themselves. 
As expected, Riki and Jake have spent a little too much on clothing with the hopes that they can fit it into their luggage on the way back. It fits miraculously. 
Your friend Leo, the one whose brother owns the pub you used to frequent, tells you he’s excited to see you after all these months. It’s a Friday night when you arrive, seeing it well populated. But it’s rather early in the evening before the rush hour, so you enjoy the relative quietness before people rush in. 
Heeseung, on the other hand, has been in a stupor for the latter half of the week. It began when he managed to talk to you in the bookstore, but blossomed when he watched you navigate your way around the city. You barely looked at your phone for directions and had no problem switching to English when you greeted shop owners. Hearing you speak fluently in a language you once struggled with in your childhood made him feel somewhat removed from your life. The two of you used to joke that he was always better with English. Now, the tables have turned. 
The fear that you’d told your school friends about what transpired between the two of you plants itself in the back of Heeseung’s mind. He worries that your friends won’t like him and that you’ve scorned his name, but he chides himself just as much as he worries because he knows you and how deeply you care about people. 
Heeseung wishes he could go back in time to change what happened. He wishes that he’d admit his mistake and confess to you before you left. It had taken him a long time to confront his own feelings, but seeing you back in Korea made him realize he didn’t care if the relationship was long distance or not. He didn’t care as long as you were in his life. 
The months spent apart without phone calls or texts were agony. He loathed hearing what you were up to from your mutual friends or when he accidentally watched your Instagram stories. Seeing you happy without him made his heart lurch, not out of possessiveness, but because he wished you were comfortable enough to share those moments with him. 
To boil it down, Heeseung hopes this trip can undo a year’s worth of his ignorance. 
But before he can think about that, your exclamation pulls him towards a strange man before you. 
“Leo!” 
The sheer volume of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung, who eyes the bloke the second you make a dash for him. His heart winces when your arms wrap around the stranger’s neck and as he spins you around, squeezing you for good measure. He isn’t pleased when Leo settles to let his arm rest around your waist instead of letting you go. He’s even less so when you don’t attempt to separate yourself from him. 
“Hey, pretty girl,” Leo says with a boyish grin, accent making Heeseung nearly roll his eyes. 
“This is Leo.” You let your head rest on his shoulder for a brief moment. “He’s one of my friends from university. I think we met in, what, second year?” 
“Second year, auditing class with Professor Donahue on Mondays and Wednesdays,” he says. “God, that class was so boring.” 
“He’s the friend whose brother owns the bar,” you explain to them. You introduce Leo to each friend respectively. “Jay and Jake are my friends who are fluent in English.” 
“You can speak it and understand it as well, right?” Leo asks as he shakes Heeseung’s hand.
He nods while giving him a tight smile. “Just a little. I’m practicing.” 
“Nah, you sound perfect already.”
Heeseung feels indifferent to see you in your element with people from your past. The bartender, who is Leo’s brother, tells you the first two rounds are on the house after he checks IDs. Riki and Jungwon are excited to have their first pub experience after you make them promise to take it slow and drink lots of water in between. 
“It’s a bit weird seeing her be like that,” Leo says to Jay with a laugh. “When we first got to know each other, it was me who had to tell her to watch how much she drank.”
“Y/N, drinking?” Jake asks. “No way. Back in Korea, she got drunk maybe twice a year.” 
“She and a mutual friend, Elizabeth, were as thick as thieves. They were like a package deal before we all graduated and until she moved to the States. They’d always go a little too hard after exam season was over or if people invited them out on a Saturday night.”
“Y/N’s always been the responsible one out of the bunch,” Jay adds. “In high school, there was one time she got so drunk that she nearly scaled the roof of my friend’s house. Heeseung nearly fell off trying to get her down. After that, she swore off alcohol.” 
Heeseung makes a few comments in the conversation as he watches you catch up with Leo’s brother and as you facilitate conversation between the rest of the guys. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you. 
The two of you talked less as you became more comfortable in your environment. At first, Heeseung took it to heart and made the assumption that you’d chosen your friends in England over him, but a stern conversation with his mother made him realize he was being juvenile. He could only comfort you so much when he was oceans away. It was probably a good thing that you were talking to him less because that must’ve meant you were as overwhelmed or scared like you were when you first moved to England. 
You’d still call him a few times a week before bed–when Heeseung was getting ready for the day–to update him on everything that happened in the past week. You two texted more frequently than you conversed, sending him pictures of new places you’d discovered or him sending photos of your mutual friends with sad faces at the notion of you not being able to be there with them. 
Heeseung had always felt a bit jealous of your time abroad. He loved Korea, but he yearned for the same sense of adventure you once had. Only, he hadn’t figured it out until halfway through university when it was too late to transfer or apply for a semester abroad. When Jay had proposed this trip and that his father would expense half of it, he jumped at the opportunity to go. 
Although, he didn’t know it would hurt him this much.
Hearing you talk about your life here made him feel like it was his fault that he barely knew your life in England. It was so easy when the two of you lived a few blocks from each other; he’d run into you with your other friends on the street or know exactly where you were likely to be at any given moment. He knew you felt the same way about him too, as you always knew where to find him if you really needed him. 
But it feels like this is the first time he’s seeing you for who you are as an adult, not the child that he grew up with. 
Surely, Heeseung always knew you had a good head on your shoulders. You were always the more outspoken one who stood up for what you believed in, no matter how big or small. You never backed down if someone was giving you a hard time and it was one of the reasons why Heeseung had struck up a conversation with you as you two played in the sandbox after a few kids had stolen the toys he was playing with. That sense of responsibility and gratuity followed you into your adolescent and teenage years, too. Not once had Heeseung heard anyone say a bad word about your character. He’d like to think he had something to do with it, but deep down, Heeseung knows it was all you. 
When you confessed nearly a year ago, Heeseung felt like his heart might’ve ceased to function properly. Truth be told, he’s never taken his daydreams about being your boyfriend too seriously. He always wondered if it was normal to develop small crushes on your girl-friends at a young age and wondered if those butterflies in his stomach was because of how often his other friends at school would playfully tease him until they stopped. Jake and Sunghoon had been people who teased him for having a girl as his best friend until they befriended you too, and Heeseung was satisfied when they stopped with their comments. They, too, could understand why Heeseung was so keen on keeping you around. 
But the butterflies never quite left him. Your smile was too bright. Your voice was too angelic. Everything about you and how you fit into his life felt a little too perfect; Heeseung hated cliches in his youth and this felt like one big cliche joke. He knew his mother didn’t approve of the girls she’d see him with, even in college when he got into his first serious relationship. She wasn’t as enthusiastic about her as she was with you. At the time, the frustration seemed too biased until it ended in a way that made Heeseung realize his mother truly knew what was best for him.
Heeseung never considered the possibility of dating you until you confessed your feelings for him. 
As much as he plays off being the spontaneous, go-with-the-flow type of person, Heeseung gets scared when things go unplanned. He backs away from courage and from moments that make or break his character. He likes to play it safe unless he can make a calculated risk in his favor, choosing to let others fall flat on their face and learn from their mistakes. Heeseung had never considered the possibility of you having feelings for him either. That fateful summer night is one he will always remember, especially in the way the light in your eyes dimmed when he told you he didn’t feel the same. 
He remembers your quick apologies and the way you backed away too quickly for his liking. He had tried to reach for your hand to tell you it was okay and that he didn’t feel awkward about it, but you’d shook your head and merely told him you’d see him later. Heeseung had never seen you leave so abruptly. But he figured you’d get over it, as you typically do when things don’t go your way. You’re resilient like that.
Heeseung assumed you needed time to heal from the awkward encounter and hadn’t reached out to you for a week. He didn’t think much of it at the time and hadn’t made plans with you until he realized you’d be leaving for Europe the week following. By then, it had been too late, because he stopped by your house the morning after you left. 
Getting together with Seulgi after you left felt too easy. He knew she’d always had a thing for him but brushed her off for reasons he couldn’t fathom until he bumped into her a few weeks after you’d left without so much as a text or a voicemail. Feeling a bit irritated at your wordless departure, Heeseung took Seulgi out on a few days to take his mind off of you.
Except, it didn’t work. Heeseung found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to go out to dinner with you when she was sitting in front of him. When she’d texted him to thank him for his time, Heeseung imagined the kind of things you would say after your first date. When he kissed her for the first time underneath the twinkling lights of a local fair, Heeseung pictured you as he closed his eyes. The fantasy was ruined when Seulgi’s perfume touched his olfactory senses, pulling him back into reality. The guilt of kissing somebody who wasn’t you ate at his chest the moment he saw Seulgi smile at him from where he stood. 
He tried his best with her but broke it off when the unrest overtook his mental wellbeing. It was amicable, for the most part. All Heeseung knows is that his parents (along with all of his friends) were happy that he hadn’t continued with that relationship.
“Y/N used to talk a lot about you, Heeseung,” Leo says, bringing the aforementioned out of his thoughts. “We’d be out at dinner or something and she’d always run outside to answer your calls.”
“Really?” Heeseung says out of surprise. He didn’t know you did that. 
“You bet,” Leo replies. “She talked a lot about Korea when we’d hang out with our friends but she seemed to talk about you the most.” 
Heeseung wonders if you told him about what happened between the two of you the summer before you left. 
“I’m flattered.” Heeseung honestly doesn’t know what else to say. He chooses to tell the truth. “I missed her a lot. I grew up with her living a few blocks away. It felt weird not to be with her when I went to college.” 
“Y/N said the same thing. Every time she’d be homesick, she’d tell us she needed to call you.” Leo’s words bring a warm flush to Heeseung’s face but he chooses to blame it on the alcohol. 
“I heard my name,” you say as you walk to where they’re sitting. “Not talking shit about me, my dear Leo?”
“Never,” he teases. “Although, I’m sure I still have some pretty photos of you and Elizabeth at this very pub.”
“Oh God, please don’t.” You push his shoulder when he moves to reach his phone. “Those do not need to see the light of day and you definitely need to delete them.”
“How else am I going to blackmail you?” 
“You’re the worst.” You look cute when your nose is a bit red from drinking. You always did suffer from redness to the face when you drank. “I can’t believe Elizabeth and I let you into our friend group.”
“Hey! I was the one who introduced you to her in the first place.”
“I’ll bet if I texted her right now, I’d have it in writing that she’d choose me over you.”
“Okay, you don’t need to do that because she definitely would.” 
The group laughs and conversations flow nicely as a few other friends from your university days join you later in the evening. It feels like a reunion, of sorts. It feels especially wonderful to have most of your favorite people under one roof despite the slight language barrier. But everyone seems to get along well enough, especially Riki, who has taken a liking to your Japanese friend you met on your first day of orientation. 
When the room gets too hot, you make your way outside where you’re fenced in by a metal barricade. It’s cold outside, but the alcohol running through your veins keeps you warm enough that you decide not to go back to ask for a jacket. Heeseung wants to follow you but stays still in his seat when he sees Sunghoon exit the door after you leave. 
The wine in your hands is still halfway full. You’ve decided that you’ve taken the lead far too many times this week and that Jay can handle getting everyone home. It’s your fourth drink of the night, just enough to keep you buzzed for the duration of your time at the pub. 
You register the door sliding open and make room for Sunghoon when you spot him over your shoulder. 
“Your friends are really nice,” he comments, leaning on the railing next to you. 
“They’re the best,” you say with a fond smile. “I owe them a lot. I only started enjoying my time here when we became friends.” 
“You know, I was a little worried that you wouldn’t be happy when you moved to London for the first time.”
“What makes you say that?” 
“I think a lot of people would describe you as brave and as someone who will dive in head first to things that scare you, which is true for the most part. But I think people rarely pay attention to the vulnerable side of people like you because it looks like you have it all together.”
“I was a total wreck when I first moved,” you said. “I don’t know if you remember the few times I called you when Heeseung wasn’t able to pick up.”
“Oh, I remember. That was the first time you cried to me and now you have no issue getting your snot on my sweaters.” You swat his arm at the joke but he dodges you just in time. “I remember Yeji getting worried about you too. She was so young and always said she wanted to be brave like you.”
“Sweet girl,” you say. 
“The two of you are similar. I watch out for her a lot, you know? Our relatives always think she puts on a brave face and don’t think twice when she talks about her fears. They always tell her she’ll be fine, but it’s hard to actualize that when you don’t believe it.”
“I thought about coming home a few times when things got really hard,” you confess. “I was out of my depth because I couldn’t speak English very well. I could only speak fragments and getting my way around campus was so hard.” 
“I don’t know how you did it, if I’m being honest. But I’m glad that you stuck around long enough to see what your life would be like.”
“Me too. I’d really love to think I’ve become a better person now that I’ve gotten the chance to know myself beyond the comfort of my home, you know? I love you guys and I love my family, but sometimes being back in Korea felt like I was listening to what was expected of me instead of what I wanted.”
Sunghoon laughs. “Yeji said the same thing a few weeks before we left for London. Part of me thinks she’s considering studying abroad. I found a few college brochures in her room.”
“Don’t you know better than to snoop inside your sister’s bedroom?”
“Yah,” he says. “Yeji steals too many of my sweaters and she said I could get them back.”
“You’re just too easy to make fun of, Hoonie.” 
A comfortable silence passes over the both of you. The audible sound of people talking amongst themselves and the beautiful lights of the city illuminate what makes London so beautiful. It isn’t until Sunghoon speaks that you pull yourself out of your daydreams.
“I heard you that night,” Sunghoon confesses. 
“What are you talking about?” 
“The night of the bonfire.I know you told Heeseung you liked him.”
You turn your head to him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured you’d tell me whenever you felt ready,” he says with a shrug. “You went back to London a couple of weeks later and I wanted to spend time with my friend. There never seemed to be a right time.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and balances from one leg to another. “You looked really sad, Y/N. I’ve never seen you look that way before.” 
There’s a beat of silence. 
Sunghoon listens as you sigh and you push yourself from the railing. Your back touches the cold metal as you look beside yourself to see him. 
“I deluded myself into thinking Heeseung might’ve felt something for me too,” you admit. “It’s not that girls and boys can’t be friends, but towards the end of our friendship, it was like something shifted.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’d…touch me longer. Hugs, pulling me by my waist at parties, lingering near me at Riki’s bonfires, that kind of thing. He started playing with my fingers a lot more. Heeseung never used to touch me like that. He’d interrupt conversation with guys to pull me away. I always knew what he was doing but I liked him so much that I didn’t care if he interrupted a good thing between me and someone else.” 
Sunghoon purses his lips and watches as you look ahead at the glass doors to see your friends laughing. “I noticed that too.”
“When we were alone, it felt like he was one sentence away from telling me he loved me more than a friend. Not that platonic crap that the eight of us tell each other, but the deep shit where that kind of love comes from kindred souls.” 
“Heeseung’s too stupid to see what’s good for him anyway.” Sunghoon pulls a laugh out of you and he’s glad to hear it. 
“But then I confessed to him the night of that bonfire.” You bite your lip at the memory, willing yourself not to tear up. “I mean, you heard him. He told me he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to ruin our friendship because it was perfect as it was.”
“And then you heard he’d gotten together with Seulgi.”
“Yeah.” You nod once and look down at your drink. 
“They weren’t together long,” Sunghoon says. “She wanted more but he didn’t want to give that to her. The boys were confused because he seemed to be really happy with her until he broke it off so sudden. I always thought it was because he felt too guilty after rejecting you.”
“What did the guys think?”
“Riki hated her. I have a feeling it was because she wasn’t you, though. I think Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jake were surprised when he’d gotten together with Seulgi after you left and were trying to be nice about it. Jay was indifferent, but then again, you two weren’t as close as you were with the rest of them until he visited you while you were away.”
“Did his opinion change?” 
“Definitely. Heeseung had a period of time in the new year where he went on a couple of dates with her, telling us he might’ve made a mistake by breaking things off too soon.” Sunghoon shakes his head as he tells the story. “Jay was unbelievably pissed.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how he gets when he’s angry. He’s quiet and doesn’t talk until he’s calm. But it was like a volcano erupted, or something. Jay came back mid January to find out Heeseung had been seeing Seulgi for a couple of weeks and completely lost it on him. He said things about not knowing a good thing if it spat in his face and how he ruined every chance of happiness because of his own doing.” 
“Wow…I didn’t know Jay said that.”
“It was scary. Heeseung tried to fight back and say it was his life and that Jay didn’t have a right to say what he could and couldn’t do, but the poor guy never stood a chance. Jay asked him if he would be happy if you came back to see him dating Seulgi and that shut him up real quick.”
“What do I have to do with it?” you ask. “He rejected me before I left.” 
“I don’t know,” Sunghoon says truthfully. “I always thought that Heeseung was trying to redeem himself through Seulgi. But I guess we’ll never truly know.” 
“It’s been almost a year,” you reminisce. “You’d think I would’ve gotten over him by now after spending time in Europe with, well, other boys.”
“He’s not just any guy who rejected you,” Sunghoon says. He looks out at the street, finding the words to say. “You two had been best friends since before me or the guys got to know either of you. There’s a special kind of bond between people who grew up together, you know?
“I think a large part of you misses being friends with him. Sure, rejection always stings, but it’s knowing that you don’t have your best friend that hurts you more.”
“Jeez,” you chide. “You always know how I feel.”
Sunghoon laughs. “I’m just observant. I know that it’s hard to be on this trip because Heeseung’s trying to be that friend you once knew. He probably feels guilty for giving you the cold shoulder during your first few weeks back in Seoul.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well he’s not doing a great job showing it. Life would be easier if he left me alone.”
“But do you want that?” 
You cast your eyes to the floor. “No, I don’t.” 
Satisfied with your answer, Sunghoon nods. 
“You know, I knew Heeseung had feelings for you the night we played spin the bottle just before we graduated high school.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Hoon. He never liked me.” 
Sunghoon shakes his head. “Do you remember what happened that night?” 
“Vaguely. I remember that being my first time trying alcohol and Jake having to cut me off when I couldn’t walk straight.”
He nods. “When you were sober enough to string a few sentences together, some girl suggested playing spin the bottle. When it was your turn to spin, it landed on me.” 
You make a face. “Ah. I do remember kissing you.” 
“Well you don’t have to look grossed out,” Sunghoon teases. “Everyone knew it was awkward because we’d been friends for like, five years at that point. We were both so flustered that the kiss lasted for maybe two seconds before everyone cheered.
“Heeseung was pissed. I saw him looking at me like I’d killed his family, or something. I swore I could see steam coming out of his ears. He wouldn’t talk to me for a week because I’d been your first kiss.”
“Seriously?” 
“Dead serious.” Sunghoon laughs at the memory. “He wouldn’t answer my texts. In the group chat we were in, he’d acknowledge everyone but me. It wasn’t until a week later when we were all hanging out that I told him there was nothing between us and it was awkward to kiss you in front of our friends.” 
You stand there, dumbfounded. “Huh.”
“I’ve never told anyone that,” he confesses. “I doubt anyone remembers us kissing except for him. I assumed this would be a story I’d tell you and the guys when you both eventually got together.” 
He murmurs an apology. “It’s okay, Hoon. I’m glad you told me. I guess I’m just…confused. Why did he reject me if he allegedly liked me?” 
“I wish I knew. He was miserable when you left and refused to talk about you moving back to Europe for your final year abroad. Heeseung was really sad when he found out you weren’t coming home for Christmas break.” 
“I couldn’t bear to see him. I was so heartbroken and the friends here tonight were consoling me in the way they knew how. I knew I’d be a depressed wreck if I came back home.”
“That makes sense,” Sunghoon affirms for you. “I’m glad you met up with Jay while he was here, though. You got some kind of Christmas gift from home.” 
“Me too. I feel like Jay and I got closer because of it. I knew he could tell something was off but he didn’t say anything about it. Something tells me he knows more than he cares to say.” 
“You know Jay.” You both nod. “More observant and caring than the rest of us. Part of me thinks Heeseung’s jealous of your new friendship with him since the two of you basically planned this whole trip on your own.” 
“Well, Jay has more international travel experience and his dad knows the right people,” you say with a shrug. “I spent four years of my life here. It makes sense.”
“To us, yes. To Heeseung? I think his feelings cloud his judgment.” 
“He never used to confuse me,” you admit. “We used to talk about how much we hated when people made us guess how they felt or what they were thinking. We always said it was unfair if you make people you love, make you guess their intentions. But he’s doing that to me and it’s been driving me insane.
“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I watched him date girls in high school. I watched him with what I thought would be his first serious girlfriend during our first year of college before he went through that short hookup phase. God, that hurt me so bad and I couldn’t say anything because it wasn’t my life.” 
“For what it’s worth, I think it was brave of you to confess to him,” Sunghoon tells you. “I don’t say that as a cheap cop out to make you feel better either. You know me, I’m really sentimental about things even if I don’t come off that way. To confess your feelings to someone who you love…one can only hope to hear that someday.” 
You nudge your shoulder with his. “You say that like you didn’t have girls begging for a date.” 
Sunghoon laughs and you know what he means. 
“You’ve always been the bravest of all of us,” he continues. “I think the reason why I wanted to be friends with you when we were kids is because you didn’t take bullshit from people. I was too shy to stand up for myself between my career as a figure skater while trying to be a normal kid. You and Heeseung offered that kind of normalcy. I could see you two in the bleachers at my competitions and then we’d go out for ice cream like it was any other day.” 
“Well, now you’re going to make me cry.” 
“I mean it, Y/N. You’re a great friend and a great person. I hope Heeseung hasn’t fucked things up too bad that you leave his life for good.” 
You shiver. “Me too.” 
“Talk to him,” Sunghoon advises. “Do it before we leave. You’re removed from your life back home.” You open your mouth to refute but he beats you to the chase. “If it doesn’t work out, then you’ll know your answer when you go home and you can resume your life without Heeseung in it.” 
Sunghoon leaves you alone with your thoughts but makes you promise that you’ll join the group soon.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
When you walk back into the pub, Jake clouds your personal space before you can even think about ordering another drink.
“Jesus, Hoon. Couldn’t you have offered Y/N your jacket if you guys were gonna be out that long? Poor girl looks like she’s about to freeze to death.
Jake’s affinity for the dramatic never ceases. Your friends look at your goosebumps and the way you’re acclimating to the warmer temperature inside while Sunghoon merely rolls his eyes.
“I’m fine,” you say. “We only came in because I started to get cold.”
“Let me get my jacket for you,” Heeseung says as he rises from his seat. 
“No.” You’re sure you say it too abruptly, but you can’t bear the thought of wearing his clothes after the conversation you just had. “I’m fine, honestly.” 
“Stop being stubborn and wear a damn jacket,” Leo chides, wrapping his coat around your shoulders. “You have this habit of never bringing one when you need it and it drives me crazy.” 
“But that’s what I have you for, don’t I?” 
As you tug the material closer to your body, Sunghoon watches as Heeseung stares at Leo with a hard expression. 
“Not when you’re back in Seoul, you goof.” Leo takes your empty glass. “I’m glad you have these guys back at home. They seem really good for you.” 
“I love them a lot.” You say it so tenderly with your head tilted as you look at the boys you’d call family, only for them to coo at your clearly vulnerable, inebriated state.
“My mother, my older sister, and best friend,” Riki says with a hiccup as he engulfs you in a hug. “Seriously, I would be dead in a ditch without you.” 
“I don’t know a better person,” Sunoo chimes in from where he’s seated. 
“There was one time where Y/N had this lemon phase where she couldn’t stop drinking lemonade or eating lemon candy,” Jake tells the group. “Now I think of her every time I see something yellow.” 
“That’s kind of fitting though, isn’t it?” Leo asks. “Yellow for sunshine.” 
Everybody agrees and it makes your cheeks and neck warm up. You hide yourself in Leo’s jacket, but God, Heeseung wishes he could hide you in his arms instead. 
Still, he can’t help but agree with Leo. If there’s any truth to his words, it’s that you are made of pure, unfiltered sunshine.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The next morning, all eight of you board the train for a two-hour ride to Paris. For the next five days, you’ll be acting as a tourist rather than tour guide, for the most part. Jay volunteers to take the lead since you did most of the heavy lifting in London. You do, however, chime in to give him a few recommendations from your prior visits to the city. 
Sunghoon’s advice plagues your thoughts, so much so that Jungwon has had to guide you out of the hotel and into the cab before arriving at the train station. Both he and Sunoo look a bit worried about you, but you wave them off and tell them you had one too many to drink. You know they don’t believe you but you’re grateful they don’t press on. 
Paris is much more beautiful than you remember it, and it’s likely due to the fact that you’re here on vacation, not because you wanted a weekend getaway to escape the stress of midterms and exams. The people are just as indifferent as ever. You’re able to practice some of your basic French to order coffee and pastries for everyone. It’s a feat that leaves Heeseung impressed and you try not to acknowledge him when you see his jaw drop. 
The hotel itself is more beautiful than the last. You have the room with the balcony and double doors leading to a breathtaking view of the buildings and streets below. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, even if the streets are littered with trash and the people are a bit too loud. It still feels charming. 
The rooming situation is the same as London, with you in the single room and the rest of the boys to fend for themselves. This time, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunghoon are sharing the three bedroom with Heeseung and Jake sharing another, and Sunoo and Riki in the other double. The hotel must’ve miscalculated the rooming situation and put your single room at the end of the hallway away from the others, but you aren’t complaining. 
The first few days are filled with happiness and dread, namely when you see Heeseung as you begin your day. He has a knack for making you laugh until you come to the notion that you really shouldn’t be finding his jokes very funny because he doesn’t deserve that kind of reaction from you. 
In fact, he doesn’t deserve your attention after ignoring you for as long as he has. Seeing Leo again brought up memories of crying in his flat with Elizabeth and drinking too much wine to forget the pain temporarily. Your friends invited you to a night spent in the pub after Leo begged his brother to close it for the night so that you could have a free space to drink and talk about Heeseung until your voice gave out. 
Your irritation carries over and Heeseung can tell when you move away from him when he tries to stand next to you. He’s hurt but he tries to understand that you have a right to be, even if he knows in his heart the reasons why he acted the way he did. He just needs to find time to talk to you, even if the conversation doesn’t end the way he hopes it will. 
With two days left on the trip, you’ve eaten your way through the streets of Paris and have done your fair share of shopping. Each of the boys had bought you a small token of their appreciation (Heeseung paid for your latte, Jay purchased a small wallet from Prada, Jake gifted you new sunglasses, Sunghoon a charm for your bracelet, Sunoo a bowl of pasta for lunch, Jungwon a pair of earrings, and Riki a new jacket that looks similar to his from back home). It warms your heart to know you have people who care about you enough to show and tell you. 
The Eiffel Tower calls your name one late afternoon and by the time you all manage to walk up, the sun is setting below the horizon. There are couples around Heeseung who are taking photos left and right, one of which asks him to take a few pictures for them. He can’t help but wish he was in their place, asking a stranger to take a photo of the two of you as he kisses the apple of your cheek. Heeseung snaps a few good ones before the couple thanks him. 
It doesn’t help that you look like a walking goddess. Truth be told, Heeseung wanted to buy you more than just coffee when the boys agreed to each give you something as a token of their gratitude. Heeseung had come up with a list of ideas he wanted advice for, but it was Sunghoon who’d told him to keep it simple for your sake. He was right, as always, because you thanked him with a pleasant smile instead of ignoring him like you had in the days prior. Heeseung gets the feeling that you wouldn’t appreciate a grand gesture from him right now.
He hates that he can’t read you like he used to. He hates that the other friends know you better than he does, and he hates that he’s in the City of Love and he can’t call you his girlfriend. 
Riki and Jungwon are more perceptive than they let on. Heeseung sees the way their eyes dart between the two of you and how they’ve been trying their best to navigate the new dynamic. Riki, especially, hadn’t been receptive of Seulgi the first time Heeseung invited her to a bonfire. Heeseung had overheard the younger boy telling Jungwon it wasn’t the same without you there and that he’d rather go home than spend another minute getting to know someone who wasn’t you. 
At the time, Heeseung was beyond irritated and refused to speak to Riki for the rest of the night. Now, however, he understands why Riki acted the way he did. 
You look so beautiful underneath a Parisian sunset. Heeseung knows he’s staring. He’s grateful that you’re too preoccupied with Sunghoon taking photos of you. But God, he wishes you’d laugh at him like that. 
“You should talk to her,” Jake says from beside him. Heeseung jumps at his sudden appearance. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“I want to.” Heeseung says it out loud for the first time. He wants to work it out with you and get his best friend back in whatever way you’ll allow. “I miss her, Jake. I miss being her friend and I fucked up when I rejected her.” 
Heeseung doesn’t notice Jake’s eyes widen at the sudden admission. Jake had his fair share of theories and considered Heeseung to be his best friend, but even he knew there was a limit about what he was willing to share and what he kept to himself. Heeseung’s friendship with you was something he stopped trying to learn a few years after he got to know you; Heeseung had a soft spot for you and had no problem letting people know that. It wasn’t until you mentioned to Jake that you hadn’t spoken to Heeseung in months that he knew something was up. 
“She clearly cares about you,” Jake says. “She wouldn’t be on this trip if she didn’t.”
“But she’s been ignoring me the past three days. And before you say it, yes, I know that she has a valid reason to, but I’m hurt and I want to make things better.”
“You have to let her take the reins and let her talk to you when she wants to,” Jake advises. “You know how she is. Y/N’s headstrong and she might not know how she feels right now, but she always knows what’s best for her. You’re good for her, Heeseung. Let her come to that conclusion on her own.”
Heeseung relinquishes his breath. “You’re right. I just…miss her. A lot. Things will never go back to the way they used to but I don’t think I want them to. I used to pray every night that I could somehow make everything like it was before that night but now I want more than that. She deserves better and I want to be better for her, not that coward who was too scared to try something new with the person he loves.” 
His friend’s words bring a smile to Jake’s lips. “Well I, for one, believe in you. I think the rest of the guys do too.” 
“I know,” Heeseung says softly with his eyes on you.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
You can’t believe you leave Europe in two days as you sip your wine. Jay’s father was gracious enough to reach out to his friend at the hotel’s restaurant to negotiate having this meal compensated. It’s a gesture you hold onto and make a mental note to write a thoughtful note when you settle back in Korea. Jay sits next to you and partakes in the wine activities with you, namely picking out two different bottles to share with the table. Talking to Jay like this makes you feel otherworldly, like you’ve gotten more experience out of life since you chose to study abroad. You feel lucky, in a sense, that your life has given you more than you expected it too. 
The younger boys head upstairs after dessert and bid you all a goodnight in case they don’t see you before falling asleep. For the next thirty minutes or so, it’s the five of you laughing away at the hotel bar like old times, reminiscing about embarrassing moments from high school or how difficult it was to hear Jake’s Korean when he first moved. 
The Australian leaves as soon as he yawns. Sunghoon, a little too tipsy upon standing from the bar table, presses a gentle kiss to your head when he says goodnight to the rest of you. Jay gives your arm a reassuring squeeze and you understand for the first time that he always knew you better than he let on. He says goodnight and tells the bartender to charge his room whenever you two close the tab. 
Now, you and Heeseung are sitting together, mere inches apart as the Parisian sky twinkles with stars above the two of you. 
Neither of you know what to say. You fidget with the glass and contemplate on whether you should head up as well. Heeseung can sense your awkwardness and wish he hadn’t messed things up so badly that you can’t stand to be alone with him without thinking of an escape plan. He misses when the two of you could sit in complete silence and still feel comfortable around one another. 
“Thank you for showing us around,” he speaks up before you can make the decision to leave. “I remember you talking about all of the places you showed us when you first moved here. I’ve always wanted to visit.” 
“Really?” 
Heeseung nods. “I used to be so jealous that you got the opportunity to travel abroad every time you talked about it. But I think I like it better this way, with you as the tour guide.” 
That brings a laugh out of you and Heeseung can’t help but smile. He doesn’t care if it’s the alcohol allowing your walls to come down. He’s grateful for the chance. 
“I used to write down places I wanted to show you,” you confess. “There were so many places that reminded me of where we’d used to hang out as kids. It always felt like there was a part of you with me.” 
His heart melts. “I wish I could’ve visited you while you were here. Your friends seem pretty cool.” 
“They are.” Heeseung watches you smile. “They’ve been with me through a lot and helped me get over this fear of failing in a different country. My friend Suki, who now lives in Tokyo, was the first person to really get me out of my shell and convinced me to go out. Awkward Y/N? Going to clubs?” 
“You know how to dance, though. I bet you killed it.” 
“A little too much, perhaps. I didn’t date or hook up much, but there were a few times that I did.” Heeseung’s heart begins to sink as does his hope. This is not where he wanted to lead the conversation but his ears perk up at your next point. “But I wasn’t happy doing that so I stopped making out with random guys on the dance floor.”
“If only thirteen-year-old you could see you then,” he teases. You bump his shoulders with yours and he feels electricity running down his arm. 
“I think I did a good job adjusting and learning. There were times where I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing with my life because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to stay in London or go back to Seoul. That burden felt too much.” 
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you came back home.” 
Your head whips to look at Heeseung, who can only sit and watch as your eyes begin to water. 
“Why didn’t you say anything when I texted and called you?” you ask meekly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you see me when I came back?” 
“I know.” He gulps. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry.” 
You sniffle and Heeseung wants to cry too. “Everyone came to pick me up at the airport. I kept looking for you but you weren’t there. Jake had to pull me away from baggage claim because he said you weren’t coming but I didn’t listen. I told him he was wrong. You always come.” 
Heeseung’s soul breaks with every crack in your voice and with the way your lips quiver. He sees your mascara beginning to smudge and resists the urge to wipe it away so that your eyes may look fresh and dry. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I have no excuse.” 
“I wanted my best friend but you never showed up for me. You didn’t call or text me when you knew I was home and I had to wait until Riki’s bonfire to see you.”
“I was an idiot and stupid,” is the only answer Heeseung can come up with. “I used to be so scared of change. You left the country and I had to start thinking about what I wanted to do with my life but it was so hard without you in it.”
“Then why did you leave me?” 
His heart shatters. 
You’ve turned away from him in an attempt to walk back to your hotel room. However, Heeseung has learned his lesson. He doesn’t let you stray too far and gently tugs your wrist to pull you into his chest and is surprised when you don’t fight him off of you.
He doesn't care that your tears have stained his shirt or that you’re hiccupping into his clothes. All Heeseung wants to do is let you know he’s here for you now, despite his past mistakes and clouded judgment. Heeseung loves you for your bravery and vulnerability. He can only hope you understand that. 
“Let’s go to your room, yeah? I can help you take your makeup off.”
Whether from the alcohol or your need to be near Heeseung, you let him guide you to the elevator. He digs in your purse for your room key and coaxes you to sit in the bathroom while he locks the door. This routine feels a bit familiar; in his youth, he learned how you like to take your makeup off and get ready for bed after a particularly rough night drinking. He could never understand why he hadn’t minded taking the extra step and to keep himself sober when you were in the vicinity, but he understands it now. 
Heeseung meets you in the bathroom and washes his hands before putting your hair in a ponytail. He bites his lips when he sees your fresh tears and mutters another apology, forcing himself not to wipe away the tears with his fingers. Instead, he lets you blot them with a tissue before gathering makeup remover in his hands and gently smears it all over your skin. 
“I didn’t like change,” he says after a quiet beat. “I was too cowardly to take what I wanted, even if the person I wanted said they wanted me too. I don’t know why I didn’t chase after you that night or why I thought you needed space before you left. I don’t have an explanation for any of it except to say that I was a coward who never wanted anything to change between us.” 
Heeseung warms a wet cloth and wipes the balm away until he’s satisfied and moves on with your favorite cleanser, rubbing it between his hands until it foams. 
“I think, deep down, I’ve always loved you more than I led on. I can’t think of any moment in my life where you weren’t there or times that I didn’t want you around. Even when we were in elementary school and everyone kept saying we would get cooties from each other, I wanted you with me.” 
He lets you wash your face and applies the rest of your products on as you once taught him. 
“I’ve always had this sense of pride when it came to being your friend. Everyone always talked about how cool you were because you always knew what to say and when to say it. I love that about you, you know. You have a way of making people feel like they’re really special. I don’t know why I was so afraid of that.
“I love who you are and what you believe in. You make the world a better place for everyone around you. How you treated me was a small fraction of why I love you. I love your passions and that you aren’t afraid to chase after them. I love that you stick with the same boba order even though you tell yourself you’ll try something new. I love that you hate the beach but go with us every time we ask. I love when you get a little drunk because you don’t fight me when I want to take care of you.”
Heeseung swallows. “But mostly, I just really love you.”
You open your eyes for the first time. Heeseung can only stare. 
“You really hurt me.” 
He glances down. “I know. I’m sorry.” 
“What hurt the most was knowing you weren’t going to be there as my best friend, Heeseung. I could handle your rejection. I could find a way to get over you. But I could never get over losing our friendship. I never wanted you out of my life because it’s better with you in it.” 
“Please don’t get over me,” Heeseung croaks. His own eyes begin to swell and he forces a choked sob down his throat, aggressively wiping his eyes to rid himself of tears. He presses his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you to get over me.” 
You don’t say anything for a few moments. Heeseung swears he feels the blood rushing to his ears as he anticipates your response and he’s sure that even if what you say isn’t what he wants to hear, he’s happy to wear his feelings on his sleeve for once in his life.
“I don’t think I could even if I tried.” 
Heeseung’s heart stops beating. He doesn’t kiss you even though he wants to. He doesn’t take your hand and pull you into him like his heart tells him to. Instead, he whispers a quiet thanks and is surprised when he hears you laugh. 
“I can’t apologize enough. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do or say anything.” 
“I know,” you whisper. Heeseung's hands are dangling awkwardly by his side. He feels like pushing his forehead against yours was too much. But your hands reach for him and you give him a squeeze.  
Heeseung throws caution out of the window and envelopes you in a hug. He feels your body melt against his and can’t help but look at the way you’ve folded into his chest in the bathroom mirror, with your head in his neck and his cheek on the crown of your head. Heeseung missed holding you like this–with your bodies intertwined as if you were two soulmates who were forced apart upon creation. 
He stroked your back with his hand and kept the other secured around your waist. Your soft breaths touch his skin and it feels like he’s got electricity running through his veins. 
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung whispers again. “I will keep apologizing until you know the depth of my regret.” 
The boy feels like he’s floating when you press a soft kiss to his exposed chest, mentally thanking Jake for forcing him to let loose and unbutton a few. 
“You could start by staying with me until I fall asleep,” you say. “Like old times.” 
He tries not to punch the air. “I can do that.” 
Heeseung waits in the bathroom until you’ve changed into comfortable clothing. He isn’t surprised when he sees you in shorts and an oversized shirt. It’s reminiscent of what you used to wear when you’d sleep in the guest bedroom in his house or vice versa, but now that he’s acknowledged his feelings for you, he can’t help but coo at how cute and sleepy you look. 
You tuck yourself in bed with the blankets to your chin and he completely melts to the floor. You pat the spot next to him and he sits on top of the blankets. 
“Under the covers, silly.” 
“I don’t want to rush it,” Heeseung says in a panic. 
“We aren’t rushing. We’re two best friends who got each other back.” 
Heeseung has never been more relieved. Though, he knows you’re a stickler for outside clothes in bed, so he makes the decision to take your key card and change.
“I’m not leaving you,” he says when he notices you rise from your spot on the bed. He holds two key cards to prove it and leans over to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to change and then I’ll be right back. I promise.” 
He comes back ten minutes later. It warms your heart at the sight of him and you feel the comfort in your body when he slides underneath the covers. 
You surprise yourself when you move to lay your head on his chest with your arm around his body. Heeseung doesn’t seem to mind, though, and he pulls you closer to him like you’ve done it a million times before. The two of you have wanted this for too long to make it feel awkward. 
“What did Jake say when you came into the room?” you ask.
“He was half asleep until I turned the light on but he asked me if we resolved things. I told him yes and then he asked if I was staying the night with you when he saw me leaving.”
“Am I right to assume he was more excited about having the room to himself?”
Heeseung laughs. “That you are.”
“Deep down, I think Jake knew we’d find our way. I think they all did.” 
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung whispers once more. You quiet him with a kiss to his cheek. 
“I know, Hee. We can talk more tomorrow. For now, let’s sleep.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The next morning, Heeseung wakes up before you do and frowns when your body’s all the way on the other side of the bed. He leans over your sleeping frame and brushes strands of hair from your face, admiring how serene you look in your sleep. For a moment, Heeseung ponders if it’s too soon to wake you up the way he’d like to, but if last night was any indication about how you felt, he’d be willing to take the chance. 
He leans down to kiss your forehead and both of your cheeks repeatedly until your eyes flutter open. Heeseung thinks he could listen to your laugh every morning with the way you wince at the sunlight and how his lips touch your skin. Still, your gaze finds its way to Heeseung’s and you can’t help but smile. 
There was a brief moment before you fell asleep that you’d wondered if you’d been too quick to forgive him. But for as hurtful as the past year was, you can’t help but acknowledge the steps he took during the trip in an attempt to undo all of the contempt you had built for him. You owe it to yourself to be happy with Heeseung. 
“Good morning, pretty girl,” Heeseung says with his morning voice that sounds a little too good for seven in the A.M. “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept like a baby. I feel like one too.”
“That’s because you are a baby,” Heeseung teases, kissing your cheeks and then the tip of your nose. “My baby.” 
“I really want breakfast but I’m too lazy to get up from the bed.”
“We could always order in. I’ll pay.”
You shake your head. “I’ll be too tempted to stay in bed and it’s our last full day in Paris. Let’s just get ready and have breakfast at the hotel restaurant?” 
The both of you are halfway done eating breakfast when the rest of your friends trickle in, joining your table and the ones next to you. It takes them a while to wake up, but it’s Sunghoon who speaks up first. 
“I’m assuming you two talked?” 
“And made up,” you say with a tilt of your head. 
“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says proudly, sipping on his coffee. 
“I’ll let that slide since we’re all friends,” Heeseung jokes. You laugh and, for the first time in a while, you don’t feel guilty about it. 
“I had the whole room to myself, too. I woke up and didn’t have to fight anyone for the bathroom,” says Jake. 
Riki nearly spits his juice out. “You guys slept together?” 
“Not like that!” you’re quick to exclaim. “He just slept over. Slept. As in, we closed our eyes and actually slept.” 
“Both of us knew we needed our beauty sleep before dealing with the six of you asking us questions,” Heeseung adds. “But for your information, we made up. We still have things to figure out, but we’re back to being friends.” 
“Hopefully more than that,” Jungwon coughs behind his coffee. He merely smiles when Heeseung looks in his direction.
“I think you two should spend the rest of the day by yourselves,” Jay suggests. “We can either meet up for dinner or whenever we have to check out.” 
“I second that,” Sunoo agrees. “You two clearly need to talk.” 
“I wanted to go shopping with Y/N again,” Riki says with a frown. Jake presumably knocks his shin with Riki’s, who clears his throat. “But you two should totally hang out without us.” 
“I think we might,” Heeseung says, holding his hand out for you to take. He stands from his seat and encourages you to stand as well, leading you away from the table. “Thanks for the breakfast, Jay!” 
“I’m choosing to be the bigger person because Y/N’s been through enough,” Jay mutters when Heeseung is out of hearshot, making the table laugh.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
“You know, I think the reason why I had such a hard time reaching out was because we’d never gotten into something that serious before,” Heeseung admits. The gelato in your hand isn’t as good as you remember it, but it does the job to cool you down on a particularly warm afternoon. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Do you remember when we were kids and how hard it was for me to talk to you about anything that was action movies or superheroes?” 
“God, you and your Superman cape from fourth grade,” you snort. “You wore that thing to school everyday. Your dad had to wash it every night otherwise you’d refuse to go to sleep.” Heeseung shuts his eyes at the memory. 
“You were the only person I felt comfortable pouring my heart out to, you know. You were always the first person I called when I needed someone to talk to, but then I was the reason why you got hurt…I think part of me didn’t know if I was allowed to reach out to you.
“It’s a stupid excuse, I know. But when I heard you were coming back to Seoul a few weeks before you did, I couldn’t help but think about how many times I could’ve texted you.”
“Yeah, you could’ve.” Heeseung merely nods at your agreement. “We’ve been through a lot over the years, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.” 
“I just wish I had come to this conclusion when it happened. I was so caught up in graduating and focusing on how I felt that I didn’t consider how you must’ve been dealing with all of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so selfish in my life.” 
“I think the time you refused to let me be friends with Jake because you said you needed friends aside from me was your second most selfish moment.” 
Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Quit it. I was thirteen, okay?” 
Neither of you particularly care to do any sightseeing today. It feels nice to walk side-by-side without the company of your other friends. The juxtaposition of how you felt towards the beginning of this trip compared to how relaxed you feel surprises you a tenfold, but you suppose that comes with genuine apologies and forgiveness. 
You’re willing to admit Heeseung looks criminally good in black jeans and a striped button down. He wears his clothes so effortlessly yet still looks like he could’ve taken his wardrobe from a magazine. You’ve always found it a bit unfair that Heeseung always manages to look so cool without trying too hard. 
“You’re staring,” he mutters, looking at you from the corner of his eye as the two of you walk down a cobblestone street. 
“I’m not,” you lie. You turn your head to avoid his gaze, but Heeseung thinks he likes seeing you this shy. It’s new territory for him, one that he wants to explore. 
“Can I ask you a question?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Why did you forgive me so quickly?” Heeseung asks. “I appreciate it, I really do, but a big part of me feels like I don’t deserve that just yet.” 
It takes you a while to answer. Why did you forgive him as fast as you did? For a week and a half, being in close quarters with Heeseung made you feel nothing but anxious and on edge, so why were you able to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him?
“I’ve always held onto the idea that you’re a good person,” you begin. “I’ve always admired that you intend to care for the people you love and make them feel like they have a place in your life. You’ve always made me feel safe, like I could run to you when things got too hard. 
“What you did was in poor taste, sure, but making bad decisions doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I know you, Hee. I know how you get when you’re faced with a difficult choice and how long it takes for you to come around. I was justifiably hurt but I think a part of me always knew you’d fix it somehow.” 
“I wish I could feel deserving of that kind of forgiveness.” 
“You know me. You know I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t feel like what I’m saying is true. I’ll admit that I shocked myself with how quickly I let my guard down with you…but you’re Heeseung. You've been my best friend since the first grade and you’re the boy I happen to have a really big crush on.” 
Heeseung bites his lips at your confession, willing himself not to be too forward as to kiss you in the middle of the street. He sees your bravery and the way you’ve put your heart directly in the palm of his hand, acting out of vulnerability even though the both of you knew he hurt you once before. 
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, Heeseung grabs your hands and locks his fingers with yours, squeezing three times to tell you he loves you.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The afternoon comes and goes with little to no plan. Heeseung’s a bit worried that he hasn’t heard anything from the boys and he’s rendered shocked that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let the day take you where it may instead of finding the next spot to visit. 
As if on cue, Jay texts him with plans for the evening. 
jjongcaprio: 20:00, Pétrelle. It’s a five minute walk from the hotel
jjongcaprio: I made reservations for you and Y/N tonight. Don’t worry about me and the boys, just take her out on a romantic date 
jjongcaprio: The bill’s covered. The reservation’s under your name btw
heeseung: bro i cannot ask you to do this 
jjongcaprio: You don’t have to. You and I both know Y/N deserves to be wined and dined 
jjongcaprio: Plus I saw you looking at a few restaurants when we were on the train. I managed to pull some strings for you and got a last minute reservation for tonight
heeseung: thank you jay…i really don’t know what i’d do without you
jjongcaprio: It’s really not a problem, bro. Promise me that you’ll try to be happy with her. The guys and I are rooting for you two
“So,” Heeseung clears his throat as he looks up from his phone, “I think you and I should go out for dinner.” 
“Where are you thinking of going? I can text the others and see if they’re done sightseeing, or whatever it is they’re doing.”
“I mean just us two.” He stands awkwardly when you’ve turned your attention to him, his feet planted on the sidewalk beneath him as if that’ll help steady his beating heart. 
“Like a date?” 
“Yes,” he says immediately. “Like I date. I, Heeseung, am asking you out on a date. Tonight. At eight.” 
“I, Y/N, would love to go on a date with you. At eight.” 
The twinkle in your eye and your coy nature makes him feel like a teenager again. He leads you into the hotel and walks you to your door before stepping back as you step inside. 
“We’ve got an hour and a half before we need to leave. I’ll come by and then we can walk together. The restaurant is only a five minute walk, so you can wear those new heels I know you feel guilty buying.” 
“They’re really pretty though,” you rationalize. 
Heeseung nods. “Gorgeous, actually. Maybe you’ll be as tall as me if you wear them.” 
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” 
Heeseung bites his bottom lip as you disappear behind the door, locking eyes with you until you’re completely out of sight. Flirting with you like this is a completely new phenomenon for him. He’s only daydreamed about what you might say if he said something a little too suggestive or how you might act if he dedicated a wink in your direction. Heeseung had never considered that he’d be the one flustered, cheeks reddening to the point where he starts to feel shy. 
His nerves are endless as he picks out an outfit for tonight. Heeseung sends a quick text to his parents, who had pressured him into bringing nice clothes for a fancy dinner, and spends a few minutes updating them on the events of the past few days. His mother is pleased, to put it lightly, and sends a handful of emoticons to display her happiness. His father tells him words of encouragement before making Heeseung promise to bring you for dinner as his girlfriend, not just his best friend. 
With the last touch of his cologne, Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror and tries not to think too hard about how he looks. You’re Y/N, his best friend since he can remember, and you’ve seen him with snot dripping from his nose. 
“I look fine,” he says to himself in the mirror. “Y/N will like the look because your mom picked it out and we know those two agree on everything. Absolutely nothing to worry about.” 
Heeseung’s only regret is he doesn’t have a bouquet of flowers to present you with as he makes his way to your hotel room. He wipes his palms on his trousers and takes a deep breath before knocking on your door. 
When it opens, he’s met with the sight of you in a short black dress that hugs your hips to accentuate your body. The dress itself is an elegant, spaghetti strap number with a flattering neckline paired with jewelry that makes your skin appear to be glowing. Your heels match well with the dress you’ve chosen, so much so that Heeseung’s jaw drops when his eyes rake over your body. 
“Wow,” he mutters. “Just…wow.” 
“I’m not used to you being speechless,” you say mildly, closing the door behind you. 
“You look gorgeous,” he sputters. “I shouldn’t be seen with you tonight.” 
“You’re dramatic, Hee.” You give him a once over and Heeseung thinks he wouldn’t mind you checking him out as you please. “You look handsome as ever.”
He beams at the compliment and holds his arm out for you. 
“Shall we?”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Heeseung knows the type of person you are and what you value, yet he still renders himself shocked when you allow him to take control of the evening. He knows you don’t need to have the expensive consequences that come with a first date or to be sipping the most luxurious wine to be happy, but Heeseung can’t help but feel like you deserve to feel as elegant as you look every once in a while. 
The host leads the two of you to a table with the most gorgeous view of the Parisian scenery. The twinkling stars paired with the dimly lit restaurant adds a romantic touch to the evening. Heeseung mentally thanks Jay for preparing wine recommendations so neither of you have to think too much about it. 
For a moment, he’s worried that he’s reached too far out of his depth. The fanciest thing Heeseung has ever done with you is eat ramen after prom in your best outfits because you both came to the conclusion that prom should be spent with someone you actually like. It’s funny in hindsight when he thinks about it now. 
You look so beautiful like this, allowing yourself to be taken care of by him. Talking to you over the table feels like you’re back in Korea before all that transpired. The food is impeccable and Heeseung thanks his lucky stars that he and Jay got it right. You sing praises left and right. 
Dinner ends much quicker than he’d like as the two of you finish dessert. The waiter tells him the bill has been taken care of and Heeseung sits in his seat awkwardly as you look out the window to see the view from outside. But he hears the live band in the background and sees a few older couples slow dancing from where he sits and makes up his mind. 
“Do you want to dance?” 
You pull your attention to him. For a moment, he thinks he’s asked the most absurd question known to man when he recalls all the times you refused to make a home on the dance floor until you’ve gotten at least four drinks in your system. 
You surprise him. 
“I’d love to, Hee.” 
The room disappears when he leads you to the dance floor. He mimics the other dancers and takes the lead, swaying your bodies back and forth to the melody of the music. You smell of vanilla and cinnamon, a scent so distinctly you that it makes him grin like a man in love. 
“Thank you for tonight,” you say against his neck. “I won’t lie when I say I feel like a princess.”
“That’s because you are a princess,” Heeseung says, kissing the top of your head. “You deserve to be treated like one.”
“I can’t believe you pulled this off so quickly. Don’t restaurants like these require reservations?”
He chuckles nervously. “About that…Jay helped me with the details. I was looking up restaurants to take you to if I got the chance before our trip ended. I guess he saw the list and chose the most romantic one out of the bunch.”
“I owe Jay a thank you.”
“We both do.” 
“I feel lucky to have people in my life who care about me this much,” you say. “I’m so happy you’re back in my life.” 
“I’m happy to be in it.” Heeseung squeezes your waist. “Deep down, it’s always been you that I’ve loved. There’s not a single person who makes me feel the way you do.”
“Yeah?” 
You feel him nod. “I’ll say it until you believe me. I’ll even yell it in this restaurant right now.” 
“Please don’t,” you laugh. “I believe you.” 
The sound of the melody overtakes the conversation. You feel Heeseung’s steady heartbeat as he expertly moves your bodies together on the dance floor. When you close your eyes, you think of this moment and how badly you want to commit it to memory, no longer in anguish over the tribulations of the past year. It feels nice to let go of your worries, even better that you have Heeseung back. 
“I really want to kiss you,” he murmurs under his breath. You pull your head back.
“Then you should kiss me.” 
Heeseung wastes no time and pulls you into him, one arm around your waist and the other behind your neck. His mouth finds yours when he decides he loves the taste of red wine on your lips. It feels poetic to be kissing you for the first time as you’re both dressed to the nines in the middle of Paris. To him, kissing you feels like a breath of fresh air and the start of something new. For you, kissing him feels like coming home. 
When he pulls back, you search for his eyes. 
“Take me back to the hotel,” you whisper. 
Heeseung feels his heart drop. 
“I’m sorry. We can go back now.”
You grip the collar of his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt when he moves. It’s only then that Heeseung sees the want in your eyes and the pure lust that clouds your pupils. 
“Take me back to the hotel.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
By the time your elevator reaches your floor, Heeseung’s dress shirt is completely unbuttoned with his toned chest exposed. You’re barely able to detach yourself from his mouth when he pushes you out of the contraption. Your hand reaches for his as you pull him towards your room, digging through your purse when you feel Heeseung’s lips on the back of your neck. 
“You look sexy in my jacket,” he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to your skin. 
“L-Let me find the key.” 
“So sexy.” His hands slide up the side of your body until he grips your waist. 
When the door opens, you pull Heeseung inside with you and lock it shut before pushing his dress shirt off of his body, exposing his muscular build and broad shoulders. You aren’t shy about hiding your lust, gazing all over his chest and abdomen as you feel your core drip with arousal. 
“I like it when you look at me like that,” Heeseung says. He reaches for your hand and places it on his chest. You take the liberty to glide your nails down his abdomen, feeling the way he tenses underneath your touch. 
“I’m really wet,” you say as you eye the tent that has grown in Heeseung’s pants. 
“Are you?” he asks. “You won’t mind if I check?” 
You shake your head and Heeseung takes that as a green light, his hands finding the soft fabric of your dress before pushing his hand underneath it. He whimpers when his fingers come in contact with your wet lips. It’s adorable, the way you push yourself against him to chase his lips while he fingers smear your wetness across the fabric of your panties. 
“Bed,” you mumble against his lips. 
He follows where you pull him, loving the way you take control when you push him onto the mattress. Heeseung distracts himself to catch his breath from the overwhelming sense of pleasure to realize that you’ve started to undo his belt buckle and take his hard cock out of his pants. 
“You don’t have to—”
“I want your cock in my mouth,” you plead, looking him in the eye. “Please let me.” 
You sit politely on your knees as you unbuckle Heeseung’s pants. His chest rises and falls in anticipation and he looks down at you to see that your mouth is watering at the sight of him. 
He’s already fully hard; he has been since you started unbuttoning his shirt in the elevator. You spit directly onto the tip of his cock and he bites his lip at the sudden contact before watching as you swipe your hand up and down himself. 
Heeseung doesn’t want to think about how you learned to do what you’re doing to him. He doesn’t want to think about the boys you’ve kissed or the people who got to see you like this before. What he does know, however, is he’s the only person from here on out who will see you on your knees if he can help it. 
Your mouth envelopes the head and Heeseung emits a short grunt. The tension between you two begins to slowly dissipate as you fit more of his cock inside of your mouth. Your tongue expertly traces every ridge and vein as you push your throat down onto him, causing Heeseung to put his palms on the mattress and throw his head back. 
You hum around him when he moans. He’s itching to put his hand behind your head but refuses the idea, letting you set your own pace. Heeseung watches as you switch your angle, sitting up to rest on your knees to push your head further down on him. He witnessed as you spread your legs, a choked moan coming from his throat in conjunction with a particular gag from your mouth. 
There’s spit everywhere. It’s trailing down your lips and connecting to his cock when you pull yourself from his body. It’s seeping to his pants and he’s about to speak up when your motion attaches itself to his sensitive balls, licking at its warmth while your hand strokes him from atop. 
“That’s it. Fuuuuck.”
He bucks his hips once and curses. Heeseung feels your mouth envelop one of his balls, the pressure of your mouth around it making him feel a kind of euphoria he didn’t know was possible. Your mouth moves to the other to give it the same treatment before retreating back to his cock. This time, your hand massages him from below as you suck on him. 
When you look up at him and wink, he decides enough is enough. 
“Baby,” Heeseung pants, attempting to push your head off of him. He thinks it’s so sexy that you’re turned on while giving him a blowjob. “Baby, please stop. I don’t wanna come yet.” 
You oblige and take your mouth off of him with a popping sound. You sit back and Heeseung stares at you through drooping eyelids in pure shock and amazement at how you’ve managed to pull him to a near orgasm as quickly as you did.
“Come here,” he beckons with his fingers.
He attaches his mouth to yours and pushes his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring the warm, wet walls you have to offer. Heeseung decides that he loves the feeling of your tongue against his and lets you suck on the muscle. 
You take your dress off to reveal sheer panties with nothing else on. Heeseung’s jaw drops at your beauty, but he also cannot believe how sexy his best friend’s body is. To him, you were sculpted from the hands of Aphrodite herself with great love and care. And it’s all for him.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, hovering over your body to press kisses to the valley of your chest. You let his hands roam and spread your legs to make room for him. 
Heeseung’s head travels back to your chest and you watch as he envelops your right nipple in his mouth. “Your tits are just perfect.” 
He makes a show out of it, hands cupping your breasts to massage them as his mouth works on you. He pushes your tits together and shoves his face between them, inhaling your scent while his tongue gathers whatever taste your body gives him. Heeseung moves to your left nipple and uses his tongue to flick the hardened bud over and over again until you’re arching your chest into his mouth. 
He grinds himself into your core with his pants still loose around his legs. It brings a moan out of your throat and he swallows it whole with his lips pressed firmly against yours. The friction feels delicious with the fabric of your panties against the hardness of Heeseung’s cock. He grinds against you with the help of your hips rolling into his, your natural wetness coating his cock in your essence. 
Heeseung moves his head to kiss your jawline, moving his mouth all over the expanse of your neck until he kisses right below your earlobe. You let out a particularly loud moan when he does, and Heeseung curses.
“Shit. Yeah baby, make those sounds for me. Let me hear your pretty moans.” 
His mouth attacks the area again and you aren’t shy about it. Your hands tangle in his hair as he kisses your neck and grinds his cock against the wet panties, which have by now molded to the shape of your pussy. 
Heeseung groans at the feeling of a particularly wet gush and lifts his hips enough to elicit a whimper out of your mouth. He experimentally lifts his hips again to align himself with you as he did before. The pressure must feel so good because your mouth hangs open with your eyes boring into his. 
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Does my baby feel good?” You can only nod and he doesn’t blame you. “That’s a good baby. Fuck, you’re so wet, it’s driving me crazy.” 
Heeseung feels your legs wrap around him and the way your heel pushes his lower back into your core. He takes the hint and quickens his pace, wanting nothing more than to see you come for him.
“You gotta come for me now, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You deserve to come. Won’t you do that for me?” 
Heeseung is sure that he’s never seen or heard anything more erotic compared to the vision of watching you come. Your mouth opens with breathy moans as you focus on your pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut as if you’re trying to savor the moment in your mind.
“Atta girl,” Heeseung praises when your hips grind into his. He keeps himself still and lets your body take over. 
You eventually come down and realize Heeseung has yet to come, but that’s the last thing on his mind. He sinks his body down to come face-to-face with your crotch and licks the come off of the soiled fabric of your panties. The sheerness gives him a sneak peek at your pussy, and he groans when he licks a slow, fat strip up your slit.
“You taste so fucking delicious, baby.” He licks at you again, faster this time. “Tastes like milk and honey.” 
Heeseung kisses your wet panties over and over again, his soft lips providing jolts of pleasure. His hands roam around the soft flesh of your thighs and squeezes them as if he remembers you’re all his to touch. The feeling is one you want to commit to memory, but it seems like Heeseung knows your mind is working overtime because he reaches his hand to find yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 
You let his hand go when he pulls it from you to slide the useless barrier down your legs and to undo the straps of your heels. He takes great care to kiss your skin tenderly, starting by your ankle and making his way down just shy of where you need him the most. Heeseung repeats the process on the other leg until he comes face to face with your glistening core, licking his lips as if he doesn’t know where to start. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your clit.
He repeats the motion, kissing your folds like they’re delicate antiquities that need to be handled with the utmost care. His lips become covered with your essence; he feels you squirm underneath him and uses the expanse of his palms to gently pry your legs open for him, soothing the soft skin of your inner thighs. 
Heeseung tentatively licks your slit and decides he loves the sound of your moans when he has his mouth on you. He does it again, dragging his tongue to feel every ridge and crevice that he’s yet to explore. His mouth feels like a warm comfort with the slow pace he sets, licking you as if he’s trying to tell you how much he loves you without saying it. 
“You taste divine.” 
You look down below to see his hair covering his eyes and brush it away with your hands. Heeseung looks right into your soul and you feel your heart clench, causing you to roll your hips into his face. He merely buries his nose close to you until he bumps your clit with the tip, pushing his wet muscle into you deeper. 
When your moans get lighter and your breathy sounds are the only audible thing in the room aside from his own moans. You open your eyes to see Heeseung humping the mattress below you. The sight is so erotic that you can’t help but let out a loud whine at the thought of Heeseung pleasuring himself while pleasuring you. 
He brings his fingers to your pussy and sways his fingers back and forth until he foregoes his slow pace, favoring a faster one. He abuses your swollen clit while you can only lay there and watch him play with you. Heeseung expertly inserts his middle finger into your seeping hole and bites his lip to concentrate on getting you to come again. 
“I need it,” he confesses, bringing his mouth to lick you as he adds another finger. “I need you to come for me again, baby. Can you do that for me?’
“Yes, Hee,” you pant. “I wanna come so badly.”
“You can do it, baby. You’ve been such a good girl tonight, giving me the best head and letting me make you come. I think you deserve to feel good.” 
“I do,” you nod rapidly. “Fuck, I think I’m coming.”
“That’s right,” he coos, hammering his digits into you while his tongue laps up the juices leaking from your pussy. “So good. You taste so fucking good. Give it to me.” 
He doesn't relent until he’s satisfied. Heeseung cleans the come from your lips as best he can while sneaking his hand to his cock, pumping himself as he tastes your orgasm on his tongue. 
“You’ve crazy,” you mutter as you settle from your high, loving the feeling of Heeseung’s mouth tenderly licking you clean. 
“For you.” He pulls his face away and wipes the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to your clit. 
When he rises to take his pants and boxers off, he sees you with your arm covering your face. 
“Are you doing okay?” 
“Perfect, actually,” you sigh. You remove your arm to see him with his cock in his hands and motion him to come towards the edge of the bed as you crawl on your knees before sitting upright to pull him into a searing kiss. 
“That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Heeseung says against your mouth. “It’s better than porn, if I’m being honest.” 
You grab his cock and stroke him. “I’ll consider letting you take a video of me when we get back home if you fuck me right now.” 
“Turn around,” he says after an open-mouthed kiss.
You follow his instructions and he groans to himself as you present your perfect pussy to him again. Heeseung sinks to his knees and smacks your ass before shoving his tongue into your hole. He spreads your asscheeks apart and digs his nose against you, licking up the wetness and remnants of your orgasm like it’s his last meal. His tongue licks up your body until he finds your wrinkled muscle and presses a soft kiss to your tightest hole. 
The surprise comes to him when you moan softly. Your body doesn’t jerk away. Rather, you spread your legs further for him and Heeseung moans against your pussy before bringing his tongue to lick over the muscle again. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, dipping his tongue back in.
“Better than I imagined.” 
“You imagined my tongue in your ass, baby?” 
You nod. “I’ve always wanted to know what that feels like.” 
Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer. Instead, he spits into your hole and watches it dribble down to your pussy, licking his way from your incredibly wet folds to your hole once again. He licks over the expanse with the surface of his tongue one, twice, three times before you’re whining for his cock. He wastes no time tearing open the condom and hurriedly places it on himself. 
The first stretch of his cock in your pussy makes him see Heaven. The sharp gasp that comes from your mouth is music to his ears and he’s careful to sink himself into you slowly, inch by inch until you’re telling him he can go further. 
His cock impales you at such a perfect angle that it has you falling to your elbows, your back arched so perfectly that he’s sure you’d be the most popular pornstar if you really wanted to be. He keeps half of his cock in you to allow you to adjust, but he underestimates just how cock hungry you are because you back yourself until he’s filling you to the brim.
“Baby’s such a slut, isn’t she?” Heeseung wonders out loud. He grins when you nod. “I love you like that. So dirty for me.” 
“Only for you,” you say, cheek pressed to the mattress when Heeseung thrusts in you. 
The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. It doesn’t take long for your wet juices to glisten over the back of your thighs and onto Heeseung’s. His hands find purchase on your hips as he pulls your body close to him, loving the way your choked moans become muffled by the mattress below. 
“So. Fucking. Tight,” he moans with detailed thrusts. “So. Fucking. Wet.” 
He climbs on the bed and plants his feet on the blankets, holding your body in place as he pounds into you from above. The angle has you seeing stars and rips moan after moan from you. 
Heeseung grins wickedly. “Such a fuckable body. So perfect.” 
His degradation paired with praise ignites a fire inside of you. You can only moan louder to let Heeseung know exactly how he’s making you feel and you can’t help but think you deserved to be fucked exactly the way Heeseung is fucking you.
The pleasure feels like an explosion of a thousand suns. Your body is warm from the hours you’ve spent in the hotel room and your neighbors getting a good night’s sleep is the least of your concerns. Heeseung’s cock drills into you from above like he’s a sex god and it nearly brings you to tears. 
He turns you over carefully until you’re laying flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. He steals one from you and puts it underneath the small of your back to create leverage before lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing himself in again.
Heeseung thrusts like he’s got to prove just how in love with you he is. Your wanton moans fill the room with his low grunts as his cock continually hits the one spot that makes you see stars, over and over again.
But you know he could do more to make you feel better. He must notice you in deep thought because he slows his hips. 
“What is it, baby?” Heeseung asks when he notices your eyebrows knit together. “Is this okay? Do you need me to stop so we can take a break?”
“Take it off,” you whisper. His hips have faltered and his pace stutters at your words.
“Take what off?”
“The condom.” Heeseung nearly chokes. “Take the condom off.” 
“Baby—”
“I just wanna feel you.” 
Heeseung curses and his hips automatically drill into yours at the request out of pure shock. He can’t lie to himself. He’s thought about it multiple times since you left for Europe and as he’s come to term with his feelings for you. The cute fantasies about taking you on dates to dinner or drive in theaters transform into daydreams about dirty affairs in his bedroom with his seed leaking out of your perfect hole. 
Still, he doesn’t believe it.
“Please, Hee,” you plead, arching your chest towards him. “Let me feel you. Don’t you want to come inside me?”
“Fuck,” he falters, his forehead on yours. “You can’t just say that…I can’t be risky with you.” 
“Yes you can.” He watches you bite your lip and feels your hands push him off of you. Heeseung doesn’t put up a fight when he slips out of your warm hole and feels your hands grip his cock, desperately trying to tug the condom off of him. 
Heeseung sees the pathetic rubber in your hands when you bring it up for him to see. It’s glistening and his mouth drools at the sight, lips parting enough as if he stares at it in disbelief. He groans lowly in your ear as he peppers a few wet kisses to your neck. 
You spread your legs wider in the air and grip his cock in your head, pumping him a few times before letting his bare tip rest against your hole. His sharp intake is enough to make you bite your lip. 
“Pussy’s so wet,” he says against your neck, pushing an inch inside of you. “God, I could come like this.”
“You can.” 
“No, baby. Gonna fuck you the way you deserve before I come.”
With that sentiment, Heeseung pushes himself inside of you until he’s fully sheathed within your walls. He relishes the way you gasp at the sudden movement and he uses this angle to his advantage, positioning his ear next to your mouth to hear your delicious sounds. 
He moves his hips at such a pace that it makes you feel like your body’s bouncing on top of the soft mattress below you. Heeseung presses his chest against yours to kiss you like his life depends on it, tongue invading the privacy of your mouth but you couldn’t care less where his mouth goes. He can feel your nipples on his skin and groans into your mouth when you clench at a particularly hard thrust. 
“S-So good,” you stutter against his mouth with a breathy moan. Heeseung feels your arm around his shoulders, scratching at his back. “Fuck, fuck!”
“Mhm,” he coaxed. “Such a good baby. You look so pretty underneath me.” 
With a new sense of purpose, Heeseung lifts himself to push himself into you at a deeper angle. He forces his hips into you harder, your hands coming to your chest to cup your tits to give you something to hold in the meantime.
“That’s right, beautiful. Squeeze your tits for me.” 
You do, pinching and twisting your nipples until you hear Heeseung moan above you. It sounds nearly animalistic, the way his throat emits a groan that sounds so primal. He sees the dirty smile you paint your mouth with and leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead before his hand comes to your cheeks, squeezing them between my fingers.
“You like it when I fuck you like this?” Heeseung asks, hips rolling against your own pelvis. When you nod, he gives you a nasty smile of his own and gives you a few harsh thrusts for good measure before pulling himself off of your chest with his cock still inside of you. 
Heeseung sits on his knees and pulls out just far enough where his hot tip remains buried inside of you, relishing in the panty breaths you emit as he watches your chest rise and fall. You look so beautiful to him with your hair messed up against the pillow beneath you and with a few faint hickeys on your chest and neck. Heeseung thinks that all of his wildest dreams could never compare to how gorgeous you look when you’re positioned directly where he wants you. 
You don’t complain when he pulls out to rest his cock on your wet, bare pussy. You wince at the loss and let him slide himself up and down, biting your lip when he grazes your swollen clit over and over again. 
The man above you lifts your right leg so that he can grip you tighter. You relinquish any control left in your body as Heeseung curses and kisses the side of your ankle. He dips the head of his cock inside and thrusts shallowly as if to tease, but you know he’s exploring all the way his cock looks like against your own body. 
It feels euphoric. The whole affair is dirty, but it’s the kind of dirty that makes you want to do it again. It’s the kind of dirty that makes this night an event you’ll want to remember for the rest of your night because Heeseung had poured his entire heart and soul for you to take. 
For Heeseung, this pleasure is less about knowing you have him permission to put himself inside you. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and your body; it’s something Heeseung has always admired about you as a person. Growing up with your insecurities of relationships and dating might’ve made you feel like a late bloomer; to Heeseung, your tendency to keep your head straight has always been a testament to how knowledgeable you are about yourself and about others. You save yourself for people who are worthy of you, and god, does he want to be worthy of you.
“I love you,” Heeseung whispers from above you. His eyes are closed and he pays no mind to the feeling your pussy gives him. Flashes of your memories stitch together like a film reel with your laughter as the soundtrack. He doesn’t think he wants to hear anything else for the rest of his life. 
Just for good measure, he whispers it again. “I love you so much.” 
“And I love you.”
Heeseung opens his eyes to see your tender ones, cheeks flushed from the sudden compliment. He always liked that he knew how to get you to blush when no one else couldn’t. This time, a sense of pride blooms in his chest. 
“I’ll never let you down,” he confesses. “And if I do, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” 
“I know, baby.” Heeseung’s hand cups your cheek and caresses it. “I trust you.” 
That’s enough for him to release your leg from his grip and pound himself into you like his life depends on bringing you to peak happiness. 
Heeseung’s palms are planted firmly on either side of your body as his hips roll gracefully against yours, the hot, wet mess between the two of you splashing on both of your thighs. He watches your eyes close shut and as your back arches to relieve some of the pressure, feeling somewhat proud of himself when he watches as your hands grab at the sheets for stability. 
There’s nothing that compares to watching you orgasm. Your eyebrows knit as if you’re concentrating while your mouth stands slightly ajar at the euphoric feeling of that single knot that’s threatening to come undone until it does. All of the girls he’s deluded into thinking he liked could never compare to the looks and sounds you’re making. 
“That’s it,” he coaxes softly. “Cream my cock, baby. That’s a good girl.” 
Heeseung feels you push and clench around him, gushing until there’s nowhere left for your come to go. He peeks down at where the two of you meet and groans when he sees his cock becoming painted in a sheer layer of white. It edges him on and the moment he locks his eyes with yours, his hips begin to stutter and he spills all he has to offer inside of you. 
He comes with short breaths as if he can’t believe you’ve allowed him to do so. Your hips move up and down as if to milk him for all he’s worth while Heeseung’s trying his best to balance his body on top of yours, grateful that some of his gym workouts prevent him from completely collapsing on top of you to.
His come seeps from your bodies and he pulls out, a few droplets splattering on your pussy lips. He nudges the tip against it, smearing his paint across your canvas and marveling at the sight. 
“My good girl,” he murmurs, eyes locked in at his handy work.
“I’ve never let anyone come inside of me,” you say with a fond expression. Your arm comes to brush Heeseung’s hair from his face before cradling his cheek when he looks at you in surprise. 
“Really?” 
You nod, biting your cheek. “Well, I always knew you were it for me. I didn’t want anyone else tainting what’s yours.” 
“Mine?” he asks, catching his breath. “You mean it? You’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Hee.” 
“All mine,” he mutters to himself in disbelief. 
You still feel his cock working itself against you. He’s still hard, a wonder after your hours locked away in your hotel room. It makes you laugh.
“No one has ever compared to you either,” Heeseung says. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he continues toying with your pussy. “Even when I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t like you.”
You laugh. “Well that’s good to hear. I realized all the guys I went after while I was abroad either looked like you or reminded me of you.” 
“I can confidently and stupidly say the same.” 
Your laughs echo through the room. Heeseung pulls your body upright, not caring that your mixed come is leaking on his cock and his bare lap. He kisses you with tender care, lips moving at a slow pace while his hands roam over the expanse of your back while your hands are on his broad shoulders. Heeseung could live like this everyday if you’d let him. 
You smile midway through when you feel his fully hardened cock against you. Heeseung apologizes quietly against your lips but feels you shake your head, pulling back to push him against the headboard until he’s comfortably seated. 
He looks at your pussy when you hover above him, the white cream still sticking to you as you grip his cock. Heeseung can’t believe his eyes when he understands what you’re about to do. Before he can even think, you align yourself with his cock and sink until you’re stuffed with him.
“Shit,” he curses through his teeth. 
“What good is coming inside of me if you don’t do it again and again, Hee?” 
“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 
“Oh, yeah?”
You don’t move just yet, opting to press small kisses to Heeseung’s face. You kiss his forehead, both temples, his nose, both eyelids, and the apples of his cheeks before placing a kiss to his lips. 
“Before we leave, I want you to fuck me against that window,” you say, turning your head to the window that glimpses the city below. 
“But people can see,” is Heeseung’s first comment.
“So?” 
He chokes and when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you can’t help but laugh at him.
“I’ve heard talk about your escapades, Lee. Why so shy with me?” 
He smacks your asscheek. “Naughty girl. Didn’t know you were nasty like that.” Heeseung gives you that kind of teasing smile that has you folding for him all over again. “Alright then, humor me. What else do you want to do before we leave?” 
“I’d love to give you a blowjob while we shower, too.” 
“That can certainly be arranged. Anything else?” 
You look around the room. “I kind of want to see you eat me out while I sit on the desk chair. Makes me think you’re some kind of secretary who’s desperate for my pussy.”
“I am desperate for your pussy,” Heeseung reminds you. “What if I’m the stone cold CEO and you’re the cute secretary whose ass I dream about?” 
You seat his chest. “This is my fantasy. You can have yours when we get home.” 
Heeseung raises his eyebrow. “Mm, you sure?”
“Positively,” you nod. Heeseung’s hands travel from your ass to your hips and guides you up and down his cock, letting you set the pace after the brutal first round from a few minutes prior. 
“Gonna fuck you in and on my car, since you like being watched so much,” Heeseung teases. His words seem to make your pussy clench and hips move faster. He forgoes any shyness when speaking about his fantasies and spills his every thought.
“I always thought you looked so cute in your old school uniform. I’ve always wanted to take you in that skirt they gave you.”
“I’ll buy one of those sexy schoolgirl costumes and surprise you for your birthday,” you say, locking your eyes with him. “Oh, professor! Is there anything I can do to raise my grade?”
Heeseung laughs at your antics, but the images of you in the costume aforementioned makes his grip on your body tighter. 
“I selfishly want to watch you suck me off while I play with the guys.” He says it in a way that makes him avert his gaze and you can see a faint blush on his face. “I-I saw this video on Twitter. It looks hot.”
“I can do that for you.” You kiss both of his burning cheeks.
“But mostly, I just want you to sit on my face. Mad at me? Sit on my face. Sad? Sit on my face. Happy to see me? Sit on my face.” 
“Simp,” you grunt, thighs burning from pushing yourself on and off of Heeseung’s cock. 
“And proud.” He smacks both ass cheeks again. “Now what do you say, baby? If you ride me until you come, you can blow me in the bathroom before I fuck you in front of the entirety of Paris. Can you do that for me?”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
The next morning, you meet Heeseung and the rest of the guys in the lobby while Jay checks out on behalf of all of you. Jake’s the first to see you coming. 
“You’re glowing and I don’t know if I like that.” He raises his eyebrow at Heeseung, who has pulled you into him by your waist. 
“At least some of us are getting laid,” you retort. “I don’t recall seeing anyone do the walk of shame even though you had the room to yourself.” 
Riki and Sunoo don’t try to contain their laughter as Jake’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. He rolls his eyes when you look at him, but shakes his head and punches your arm with your first. 
“Nah, I’m really glad you two got that out of your system and worked it out.”
“You guys had major sexual tension,” Sunoo comments. 
“Thank God Y/N’s room was at the end of the hall,” says Sunghoon. “I don’t know how their neighbors felt but I can sleep peacefully knowing I didn’t have to hear all of that.” 
“Okay, enough,” Heeseung laughs. “We get it, we had a lot of sexual tension and now we’re fine.”
“So you guys are boyfriend-girlfriend?” Jungwon asks. 
“Y/N is my girlfriend and I am her boyfriend.” 
“I will key his car if he hurts you again,” Riki tells you, looking at Heeseung after he’s finished speaking. You detach yourself from his waist and bring your arms around Riki to give him a squeeze.
“Thanks, Riki.”
“Okay, we should call the cabs right now so we can get to the airport early,” Jay says from behind you. 
“Jay is such a dad,” Jungwon whispers. 
He pays no mind to Jungwon’s words, instead focusing on the way Heeseung pulls you into his chest. It warms his heart in ways he can’t explain.
“Congratulations, you two. Let’s go home.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
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aliceramblez · 3 months
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
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broken lamps - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: anon request 'Charles flying to see his lover in another country but getting so needy he ends up fucking her in the hallway of her apartment on the floor.' Warnings: smut, 18+, spitting, unprotected sex Word Count: 1,239 Author's Note: please comment any thoughts!!! I love hearing feedback. I had fun writing this!! Hopefully it's up to your standards. I'm still new at this whole writing thing. BUT ANYWAYS CHARLES P2!!! BITTERSWEET END TO THE SEASON. CAN'T BELIEVE ITS OVER. TIME TO TOSS THE SF-23 IN THE TRASH!!!!!! French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
CHARLES WAS NOT a particularly needy person. In fact, one would say that he tended to be self-sufficient and independent. But when he was needy, he was needy. And quite demanding too.
He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, but he couldn’t bear the idea of having to wait longer.
For three long weeks, the absence of your touch weighed heavily on him. Your inability to attend the races due to work in the past few weeks had taken a toll, unraveled his composure and pushed him to the brink of madness.
Which is how he found himself standing in front of your door in the middle of the night, urgently pounding his knuckles into it. A suitcase at his side, and his hair disheveled. He was already hard. He hasn’t even seen you yet, and he could already feel the blood rushing to his cock.
You could barely unlock the door before feeling him push it open and slamming it shut, leaving his suitcase abandoned in the hallway of the apartment building – long forgotten in the heat of the moment. 
He was so needy. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t even wait to go down the hallway to the bedroom.
His lips immediately pressing into yours as he pulled you into him.
“Bébé, I need to feel you,” He groaned in between kisses, pushing you up on top of the table in the entry way of your apartment. His hands exploring every inch they could find, kissing and biting into your skin with intense desire. He repeatedly brushed himself up against your lace covered core, letting you feel just how hard he was. How much he wanted you. How much he needed you.
It was almost too easy. You were only in a silk robe, with lace underwear and a thin tank top.
“Charles,” you moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers slip past the lace to rub your clit in soft circles. You gazed up at him as he hastily pulled down your spaghetti strap tank top, allowing your breasts to spill over the fabric. His other hand immediately pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger.
The attack of his hands on your nipples and your clit was enough to send you over the edge quickly. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Like it was his. Because it is.
“So fucking hot,” Charles groaned as he watched the lace of your lace underwear dampen from your orgasm. “Missed you so much baby,” he leans over to press his lips to yours amidst your moans.
Your hands roamed his body, which was still mostly clothed, aside from his sweats half shoved down. Too impatient to fully get undressed. You glanced down at his cock; it was smooth, and you could see the precum dripping from it. Poor baby, you thought.
“I need you,” you squeezed his biceps as Charles stood up straighter and looked down at you.
His gaze darkened, and you could feel it penetrating your soul. It carried a possessive intensity. His left hand firmly gripped your hip, anchoring you to the small entryway table. He stood between your legs, leaving them spread completely.
“Gonna take all of me like a good girl, right?” He mocked as he aligned himself with your entrance. He didn’t push in right away, just held it there as he stared down at you pressed against the table. Like you were his own personal feast. 
You couldn’t find the words. All you could do was nod your head eagerly.
“Look at you,” his fingers rolled one of your nipples between them slowly, “my sweet little girl just waiting to be fucked hard until you cum all over my cock.”
“Please,” you begged. You were not against begging. Especially if it meant you could finally feel him. You couldn’t slip out another beg before he pushed himself right into you. The burning stretch eliciting moans from both of you.
“Merde,” he hissed. The squeeze of you on his cock was heavenly. “So warm, ma chérie” He was ravaging you now. There was something different with Charles tonight, not by much – but a slight difference. He was more urgent and eager than normal. Like you would disappear into thin air if he didn’t grip your hips so tightly. 
His gaze never faltered from yours as his hips rocked into yours aggressively. The room was full of breathy moans and the entry level table banging into the wall along with each thrust of Charles hips into you. 
The force of his hips sent the small white lamp tumbling to the floor, shattering it no doubt. Neither of you bothered to glance at it. Too unraveled in each other. It was as if you didn’t even hear the lamp break.
One of your hands grasped your knee closer to your chest, while the other gripped onto Charles bicep of the arm that pressed into your neck. His hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly with just the right amount of pressure.  
“Charles, I’m going to,” you didn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.
“Yeah? Again? That quick?” He was so fucking cocky. “Open up for me, baby.” 
You didn’t even have to question what he meant. Instantly opening your mouth, he spit a string of his saliva into your mouth. His eyes burning into your soul. You felt your pussy clench around his cock at the feeling of his saliva hit your tongue.
“Fuck. Your tight pussy can barely fit me, huh?” It was so tight. Charles could feel himself shuttering at the feeling. “Need to stretch you out. Three weeks was too long?” His hips were faltering with each thrust as he felt himself edging closer to his orgasm.
A sound similar to a sob claws out your throat as his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. Over and over and over. 
“Please, I need to,” you were a whimpering mess. Charles found it so endearing how hard you would try to wait for his permission. 
“Not yet,” You thought you could cry on the spot. Until he yanked you off the table and onto the floor. You now straddling him.
“Rub that pretty pussy all over me baby,” He was leaned up on his two arms, looking at you with an eyebrow cocked and smirk. “Get yourself there.”
You felt yourself immediately working yourself over his cock. His eyes were all over the place. Looking at your face, the bounce of your breasts, and the way he disappears into you. The position driving him much deeper than before and the feeling of your clit brushing against him was too much.
It was like he knew. Knew all the signs that you were there. “Oui, mon amour,” he replied, “let me feel you.”
It was only a few more strokes before you felt yourself cumming all over Charles. The sound of your moans getting choked up as you pulled Charles up closer and pulled his lips to yours. 
He quickly rolled over you, pulling out and releasing all over your tank top, some hitting your breasts. 
You were exhausted, a limp pile of bones, as you felt him collapse down onto you. Not even caring that his cum was all over you both now. He just wanted to be close to you. 
You were smiling hard up at him. Soft laughs were now leaving your mouth, “Guess I should buy a new lamp.”
He scooped you up and carried you to the bed. The bed he couldn’t make it to earlier.
“Unless you want another lamp to break, let’s not bother.” 
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runa-falls · 5 months
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my turn
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part 1 | part 2
pairing: marc spector x reader (a bit of steven grant x reader)
summary: marc has had enough of watching you take advantage of steven and not him...
cw: smut (18+), voyeurism, masturbation, rough sex, dirty talk, degrading words, pining omg so much pining, angst, creampie, fluff?, ft. steven
wc: 3.4k
a/n: long time coming (cumming) -- i just realized i barely have marc fics so hopefully this holds up to expectations!
masterlist
----
You know Marc. But you wouldn't necessarily say that you're friends. And even if you were, you're definitely not 'friendly' with him the way you are with Steven.
If you were to ask him though, it wasn't for the lack of trying.
Since you've met Steven, Marc has merely been a shadow behind him, stopping in to check on Steven's personal life every so often before disappearing again.
What you aren't aware of, though, is that the only time he trifles in Steven's life is when he gets to see you.
Usually, Marc is uninterested in the daily life of his other half.
Steven wakes up, catches (or misses) the bus, gets to work, grabs some food on the way home, then calls it a day. It's a bland routine that Marc set up specifically to make sure that Steven is safe and sane. So, of course, when there's a change, Marc starts to pay attention.
Suddenly, out of the blue, you're everywhere.
A smile in the background of Steven's phone, a sticky note on the fridge reminding him to get more blueberries, and the oversized sweater you leave on the armchair one day that Steven steals whenever you're away.
He has no idea how you came into the picture, how he's never noticed you, or how Steven of all people captured your attention.
All he knows is that Steven is fumbling. Hard.
Marc had no idea what the nature of your relationship was until he had a front row ticket to one of your friendly favors.
---
Steven isn't subtle about his feelings. Anytime he's exceptionally scared or excited, Marc is called forward by his subconscious mind just in case he's in danger.
Usually, Marc is forced to front when Steven is about to burn his flat down from his nth attempt at cooking, or when he nearly walks into a busy intersection because he has his nose stuck in a book. But he never expected this.
He knew you liked to baby Steven. Take care of him because he had no one else to turn to (except Gus of course), but he just assumed you were being friendly, a kind soul willing to take Steven under your wing.
Nothing could have prepared him for when he woke up to the sight of you on your knees in front of him. It's odd being in the back seat of his body while Steven is getting all of your attention. He can feel everything, from the way your soft lips brush so sweetly against his cock to the hot suction of your mouth, but there's something that's holding him back from taking what he wants.
He wants so badly to bury his hand in your hair and push you down onto him until you're making a mess of yourself, eyes welling with pretty tears and drool dripping down your chin. He needs to tell you what a good girl you're being for him, so desperate for his cock in your throat. He wants to pick you up and carry you over to the bed to show you just how beautiful you are.
He wants you to look up and know it's him.
But he can't. Because who knows when this development started.
You acted platonically just the other day, and now, you're begging for Steven to cum on your tits.
What are you to each other?
If interferes now and messes this up for Steven, you might leave their lives altogether. Damn, how have you lured him into your clutches without even talking to him?
For all he knows, it could be a one-off thing...
---
It's decidedly not a one-off thing.
Marc has barely had the chance to front since the first time you made a move on Steven. You're always coming over, whether it's a spontaneous movie night or an offer to cook Steven some dinner, you always find a way to slither your way back into his bed. Not that Steven minds.
But Marc does.
With each fumbling move that Steven makes, Marc gets pushed closer to the edge. He could do it so much better. Make it clear that you're wanted. Give you the pleasure you deserve.
He cringes inside with every wary arm that gets thrown over your shoulder during a movie (one of Steven's signature moves to get you to cuddle -- somehow it works, every time). With the messy, unpracticed kisses that Steven haphazardly presses against your sweet lips.
He physically holds himself back from taking control of the body whenever you fall asleep in Steven's arms. He wants to hold you, feel your body molded against his, even if you have no idea it's him.
It's painful watching the two of you walk circles around the truth.
"I'm always thinking about you." Just tell her that you like her, you idiot! What is there to be afraid of? She looks at you like you painted the stars and hung the moon!
At this point, he doesn't even know why he tries.
Whenever you're around, Steven has total tunnel vision. He practically follows you around like some lost puppy. He lets sweet words spill from his lips without even thinking first and you lap up any type of affection he'll give you.
It's a vicious cycle of obliviousness.
Steven is a lost cause. But he isn't.
He can't take it anymore. He can't take waking up with a lingering taste of you on his tongue, or seeing your lovesick smile directed at someone else. He can't take the way you treat him like a stranger, like someone to avoid.
He wants you. So he's going to show you.
---
It's been a long day.
Marc's been out, jumping on top of roofs and kicking ass, all while Steven's 'sweetheart' blows up his phone.
Marc narrows his eyes, shuffling through all the smiley faces and hearts that litter your messages (and the thumbs up messages from Steven).
This book made me think of you <3
A cute little picture of you holding a book next to your face stares back at him, painting his face in a soft glow as he stands in the darkness of the night. He wants to crush the device in his hand.
Call me when you get home safe :)
You know exactly where Marc is right now, and what his life consists of, but you always avoid talking about him directly. You're always just waiting for Steven to come home so he can sleepily tell you he's back in bed and give you the green light to come over and snuggle your face into his chest.
Marc likes to think that he makes measured decisions, but what he does next is completely out of character:
Come over.
---
He's a little impatient, sitting on his worn couch as he waits for you to show up. You said you'd be 20 minutes, but it's been 30 since he texted you.
Sory thought the cookies would be done earlier! I'm otw now!
Your hastily typed out text blinks up from the forgotten phone that lies next to him. He read the sheepish reply when you sent it, but didn't bother to text back because of course you baked cookies for Steven.
He's starting to regret tricking you over. All he can think about is the inevitable rejection he'll get once you realize he's not Steven.
Marc leans back against the collection of overstuffed pillows and (your) gifted squish-mallows that decorate the couch, not caring that he's taking up as much space as possible. Flashes of your time with Steven override his doubts, reminding him of the softness that only you can provide.
He doesn't even realize he's unbuttoning his pants until his hand slips himself out of his briefs. Fuck, he's already so hard just thinking about you.
He doesn't want to get himself too worked up so he attempts to take it slow, stroking and squeezing himself until he's teetering at the edge, pretending that it's your hand instead of his. He quickly gets lost in the feeling, floating in a euphoric dream of you and your touch. It isn't until he hears the door click open that he returns to reality.
You're here. The thought alone nearly makes him spill over himself.
"Steven!"
-- And he's good.
"I'm here--oof," He hears you run into a kitchen stool, "why is it so dark in here?"
He should shove himself back into his pants and greet you like a normal human being, but some sick thing inside of him wants you to see what you do to him.
You place a container of freshly baked cookies on the counter with a smile, satisfied with your work and excited to see him try one. You've been working on a new vegan snickerdoodle recipe just for him.
A sweet treat for your sweet treat. You nearly giggle at your thoughts.
You take a second to smooth down any wrinkles on your dress, desperate to look nice for him. Steven has no idea how obsessed with him you are. You want him all the time. You're constantly craving to coax out soft whines and stutters from your favorite boy.
You look around the dim flat.
Where the hell is he?
Usually you'd find him in front of his makeshift desk, sprawling through various books under a harsh lamp, but tonight his spot is empty.
A soft grunt guides you to the couch, your usual movie night spot. No way he's starting without you.
"Ah, there you are." You're slightly put out that he doesn't move to greet you, but maybe Marc's mission just took a particularly harsh toll on his body.
It's only when you're standing at the side of the couch that he meets your eyes. And you meet his...hard cock, desperately throbbing in his hand. What a sight. Your eyes nearly glaze over at the sight of his mussed hair and laid back positioning.
He just looks up at you, casually. He's been expecting you. He wants you to watch him. It makes it that much more delicious.
He doesn't shy back at your presence. If anything, he sits up to give you a better view. His hand moves methodically -- controlled, stroking himself from tip to base as his half-lidded eyes stare straight back at you.
His dark look and posture nearly make him unrecognizable. It's not just the clothes he's wearing, or the 5 o'clock shadow, but the way he furrows his eyebrows and grips himself so confidently, like he does it all the time.
You shake off the odd feeling settling in your stomach and move over to him with the practiced grace that usually makes him weak in the knees for you.
"Mm...Steven...you're quite needy right now, aren't you?"
He raises a dark eyebrow, briefly squeezing himself in his hand as he unabashedly takes in your figure, draped in a soft dress. He's not backing down like you're used to. At this point, he's supposed to be begging for you to touch him, not staring you down like you're a piece of meat.
"M'not Steven, sweetheart." His voice makes you freeze in front of him and all of the confidence you once held rushes out of your body.
"M-marc?"
A cynical smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
"You remember me?"
You capture your bottom lip into your mouth, holding yourself back from crawling on top of him and skipping the conversation. The dark and intense version of your lover is serving himself up on a silver platter, and all you can do is watch.
"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugs.
You can tell he's enjoying this, watching you squirm uncomfortably as he teases himself right in front of you. He touches himself like it's an afterthought, something to simply accompany the sight of you.
"W-where's Steven? I was supposed to meet him here..."
"I'm the one who texted you."
You freeze, not knowing what to do.
He wants you here?
He wants you?
"You...?"
"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna be a good girl for me like you are with Steven?"
What would Steven think?
"I-I don't know..."
"C'mon, you're always dying to suck him off."
Your face flushes at his bluntness. Are you that obvious?
A hand comes up to hold you by the waist before you're pulled closer to him. He looks up at you, eye-level with your chest, looking as predatory as ever, despite his position under you.
"What's the difference, hm?" He slides a warm hand under the hem of your dress, gently caressing the bare skin of your outer thigh. "It's the same body on top of you. The same cock stretching you out..." You shiver when you feel his fingers tease the edge of your panties, the deep red lace you picked out specially for Steven. "...even the same cum filling you up."
You look down, mesmerized by the way his hand moves under the thin fabric of your dress. You watch his shrouded arm pull at the fabric until it barely brushes at your upper thigh as his hand slides up over the softness of your stomach and the dips of your ribs, before stopping at the curve of your breast.
"You want this."
It's not a question, it's a statement. And he's right.
He watches your eyes flutter close as he cups you in his hand. Despite the heat in his eyes, he handles you so softly. Like you're a porcelain doll in his hands. It's a familiar touch, but there's a hint of something more.
"Steven..." You breathe out. It's said out of habit. This feeling inside of you has only been associated with one person. It's always been him. But now, a whole other side of yourself is opening up.
You quickly realize your mistake when his grip tightens around your waist and on your breast, demanding your attention.
"No." His voice is low, "Not him."
"M-marc."
He hums and rewards you with a teasing flick of his thumb over your nipple. You're disappointed when his touch suddenly leaves you, but before you can complain, he begins to work his pants all the way off.
"Don't worry about him, sweetheart." He pulls you close enough that you nearly fall over him, causing you to straddle his lap and sit chest-to-chest. "Tonight's about us." The skirt of your dress falls around your thighs, shielding the way his length presses against your inner thigh.
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, flustered by the feeling of his hot body against yours, at the idea that this is really happening.
You breathe in once. Is that..?
And then, once again.
He smells like him.
"You good, baby?" He rubs over the tops of your thighs comfortingly while subtly shoving your skirt up to your waist.
"Mhm..." You hum against his skin, relishing in the feeling of his embrace. You experimentally push your hips against his, grinding your needy center against his. He groans at the contact and cants his hips upwards, forcing you to feel just how hard he is.
Your cunt pulses in desperation as he continues to rut against your clothed clit. You're nearly soaking through your underwear with how wet you are. And by the way he groans against you, he can tell.
An eager hand shoves between your bodies to shove your panties to the side. "Need to feel you." He drags a finger against you, spreading your slick until it runs down the palm of his hand. "Fuck. You're so ready for me."
"P-please." It's a hushed whisper against his shoulder, but he hears it loud and clear.
"Please, what?" He pushes you back, forcing you to look at him as he lines himself up. Heat pricks at the tops of your cheeks before you cast your eyes downwards.
Is he really going to make you say it?
"M-marc." You whimper as he brushes the tip of his cock through the seam of your cunt, covering himself with your lust. He mouths at your neck, ignoring your pleas by keeping himself busy sucking bites and bruises into your skin. "Please, fuck me, Marc."
He barely gives you a second before he's pushing in with a single fluid motion. The feeling is indescribable. How can he share a body with Steven, but make this feel so different?
"So big..." You gasp out, thighs trembling around his.
"Taking me so well, baby. Just let me in."
He pushes up until you're filled to the brim, drawing out a broken moan from your lips. The stretch is exquisite in this position. You feel like you've never felt anyone as deeply as he is right now.
As soon as he's sure you're comfortable, he starts moving, grinding up against you until you're looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. You're mewls fill the room as his cock drags perfectly against your slick walls. You arch your back and start moving over him, desperate to feel him entirely.
He watches you bounce on his lap, timing his movements so his thrusts meet yours.
"Such a greedy slut aren't you?" His harsh words are punctuated with sharp thrusts, causing you to clench around him involuntarily. The sensation almost leaves him breathless, but he continues talking through gritted teeth. "You couldn't get enough from Steven, hm?"
His pants turn into rough grunts as he speeds up. He thrusting into you like he's taking revenge, like he's proving that he's the piece that's been missing from your life.
You shake your head, "Need b-both."
"Yeah, you do. Always so desperate to be filled by this cock." He holds you in place and begins to viciously thrust up into you.
"O-oh-!" He's hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help the way your mouth gapes at the toe curling sensation.
Everything around you quickly fades away and all you can see, hear, and feel is him. You can't even articulate anything when pure ecstasy blooms in your core and permeates throughout your body.
You seize in his hold as he continues to roll his hips against yours, feeling boneless from the pleasure that hums through every nerve. He groans at the flutter of your walls around him, gripping him so tight in your warmth. He can barely get out a handful of thrusts before he's spilling inside of you.
You're a mess on top of him, soaking his lap in a mixture of the two of you. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, but it doesn't matter when you can still feel him pulsing inside of you.
Your eyes flutter open as a gentle hand caresses your jaw and guides you to lean in.
You meet vulnerable eyes framed by dark lashes.
He takes a breath, like he's bracing for the worst, but he doesn't have the chance to let it go before you're pressing your lips against his.
---
You sleep like a rock. It's almost like no time has passed. Why dream when you have everything you want right in front of you?
Or behind you, that is.
You can already tell it's Steven with the way he nuzzles himself against the back of your neck. "G'mornin', darling." He's adorable with his roughened groggy voice.
"Hi, baby." He curls up at the pet name and holds you closer, already flustered before he has fully woken up. You can tell it takes him a few moments to blink the sleep away because suddenly he's stiff against you (and not in a good way).
"W-what. What happened?"
You sigh, "Marc happened."
"Did he hurt you? Oh my god," He pushes away to get a better view, "was he mauling your neck?!"
"Steven, it's fine." You feel your face warm up at the thought of the night before. "I...kinda liked it."
Steven huffs to himself as his thumb lightly brushes over a particularly obvious bruise on your neck, "He's trying to steal my girlfriend."
You nearly choke on yourself, "G-girlfriend?"
"Yes...? I mean, you are, right? Unless," Steven's eyes widen, "I-uh, didn't mean to assume--"
"No, Steven. I-I'd love to be your girlfriend."
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shaisuki · 5 months
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。‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧。 ─── MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.
when toji entered his shared home with you — he can hear the crying of his son. it hasn't stop since he left to get the medicine prescribed by his son's pediatrician. fever was it.
soft footsteps echoing in the floor. toji removing his coat and went to your bedroom. there he sees you. standing in front of the window. moonlight shining through it giving you a halo effect on you. he would be awestruck at you but his son's wailing had been relentless.
his baby with you, flushed skin with tears rolling endlessly in his chubby cheeks. a fever relief pad for babies pasted in his forehead to ease the heat of his fever. he watched as you cooed, rub the back of your baby but still it was useless.
toji sighs. it was rough. it wasn't all shit and giggles when parenting and seeing his baby isn't laughing or doing the same thing all over again plus you. exhaustion visible in your face and tiredness all over your body tending to his little boy. you didn't even notice him and before toji could take a step he hears you hum before you began to sing a familiar tune you always sing when you were pregnant with megumi.
“moon, a hole of light~” you began to sing the first verse and megumi's wailing turn to sniffles upon hearing your voice. the tears rolling in his cheeks turning into drops like dew in leaves after rain. the song hasn't been sung since your pregnancy and megumi stares at you wide eyed. the green in his irises similar to his father turning into one of calmer one.
you raised megumi to distract him while you continue to sing. “cause my love is mine, all mine~” his fingers making grabby motions to you and toji is entranced how you manage to calm your sick baby. “i love mine, mine, mine~” your voice soft. singing the song like a lullaby intended to heal the sick and mend broken hearts and the scarred man gazing at his son and especially to his wife can't help but to feel warm and giddy inside.
“nothing in the world belongs to me~” you continue to sing. your baby eyes wide while he stares at his mother. “but my love mine, all mine, all mine~” placing your son's body in your chest and his head into your shoulder. his breathing softening with hiccups. your palm rubbing his back to soothe the ache and megumi thankfully calmed down. sighing a small smile graces in your lips before bestowing a chaste kiss to his head. hair spiky and you softly laugh imagining how toji would look with his hair spiked up.
you began to sing the second verse and then you turned around to see toji. “my baby, here on earth~” he can see the words forming in your lips added by your angelic voice and he didn't know if he could love you better when you look at him to sing the words intended for him. “showed me what my heart was worth~....” the volume of your voice decreasing not breaking eye contact with your husband and then you greeted him. “toji.”
“megumi finally calmed down but the fever is still there. hopefully it'll be gone by morning.” you say. rocking back and forth to further your baby's comfort. “let me take it from here.” extending his arms and you slowly placed your baby in his. toji isn't good at it. stabbing a man's head is easier than carrying his blood and flesh but toji tries. be a good father and husband in which his father wasn't. it's different now. he thinks to himself. he wasn't alone. he have you and toji intended to make it this way until.... forever.
you rest your head in his shoulder while your hands softly brush megumi's hair. checking his temperature with worry etched in your face. “our child is strong.” toji comforts you. another feat he doesn't know he's capable of and the word our. you and him with your pride and joy resting in his chest. “he is.” smiling softly at your baby.
toji peered at you. his wife stronger than anything else. caring and loving with the voice that can touch one's very soul. calms the storms in its wake and toji thinks back on what good deed he must had done to deserve you. to deserve this life but nothing else matters with you and his life and this little brat.
and toji knows that he doesn't have love in him but now, he have and he intends to have it. to give it to you until there's nothing left in him cause his love didn't exist without you in his life.
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.
> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k
> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening
> in which masterlist!
playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)
next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).
note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3
you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.
your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.
just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.
“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”
the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.
“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”
“open the door! hello?! ___!”
“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.
he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.
”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”
the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-
“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”
you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.
he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”
you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?
“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”
“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”
you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.
“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”
“oh- i’m so-”
you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.
he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.
“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”
he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.
“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”
“you didn’t even give me any signs…”
you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.
“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”
after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.
and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.
no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.
because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.
so this is how it begins.
the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?
your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.
“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”
the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.
“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”
“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”
jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.
“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”
a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.
you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.
the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.
“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”
he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.
“___ hasn’t called?”
jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.
“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”
“but isn’t that what you wanted?”
“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”
“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”
“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”
“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”
once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.
“talk to me. what did she say?”
“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”
and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.
“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.
he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.
if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.
“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”
“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”
fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.
“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”
yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.
“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”
with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.
“what is it?”
“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”
yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.
“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”
“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.
yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”
jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”
“because she loves you. why else?”
you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.
“ah, shit! shit!”
you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.
after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.
Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi
you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.
too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.
“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”
“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”
“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”
jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”
“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”
“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”
“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”
“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”
“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.
jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”
“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”
“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.
“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”
the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.
“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”
“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”
jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.
he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”
“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.
namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.
“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”
the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.
“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”
and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.
“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.
“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”
“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”
“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.
“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.
you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?
you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.
with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.
it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.
“everyone, i think i just saw __-”
a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.
“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”
none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.
“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”
“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”
jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”
they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.
that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.
but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.
it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.
“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.
he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.
if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.
his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.
he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?
the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.
they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.
“when did i put that there?”
you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.
at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.
you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.
Namjoon:
he’s been devastated since
can’t this be sorted out?
stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him
i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..
you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..
you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.
the same goes for tonight, it seems.
his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.
you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.
you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.
“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”
he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.
“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”
he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.
“and then here we haaave-”
following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.
“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”
he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”
in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.
“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”
he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.
“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.
the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.
because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.
with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.
jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.
it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.
fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.
but until the very end, you’re the braver one.
“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”
“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.
“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”
exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.
“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”
the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.
“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”
you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”
a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.
“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”
yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.
he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”
“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”
��
jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?
“oh. you’re back together?”
he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.
“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”
“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”
and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.
“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.
he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.
it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.
he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.
god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.
he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”
he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.
he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.
the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.
“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.
“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”
“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”
he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.
“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”
he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.
“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”
you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?
taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.
“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”
jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.
“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”
“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.
“love you.”
“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”
“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.
this is what he needed to hear from you that day.
“so stay with me.”
jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.
“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”
“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”
the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.
he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.
he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.
“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.
“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”
you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”
his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.
“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”
“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”
you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.
“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”
his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”
it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.
jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.
he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.
he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.
an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.
“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.
jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.
These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?
and messily crossed out at the end,
I miss you.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
3K notes · View notes
zchnlswrld · 12 days
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(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS
🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite
if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!
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ATEEZ/MULTIPLE
Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀
opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧
↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?
Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥
HONGJOONG
Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓
Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀
To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥
Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀
Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓
↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone
SEONGHWA
The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧
↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible
let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT
no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥
bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥
↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release
cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓
checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀
the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥
YUNHO
Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥
opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥
↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release
what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)
PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)
something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧
↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding
Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)
↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!
entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧
YEOSANG
no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀
RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧
↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this
for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧
↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j
SAN
The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT
Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥
↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE
seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧
↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait
Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀
↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear
a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧
MINGI
Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀
↳ i did cry when i finished this
nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥
One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀
Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓
WOOYOUNG
Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥
Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓
change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓
place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧
↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl
If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀
JONGHO
so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧
↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now
killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓
glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓
zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this
20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓
the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧
↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID
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brain-rot-central · 2 months
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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal
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A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.
Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex
Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.
♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3
“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”
The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 
A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.
A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.
With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.
It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.
Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 
She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.
As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.
Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.
It is him.
And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.
“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.
Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 
“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”
Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.
“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 
A cold shudder shoots down her spine.
There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.
Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.
Love.
“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”
His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.
That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.
The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 
Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.
Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 
Pop, pop, pop.
Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.
Finally comes Cazador's turn.
He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.
Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.
The Ascension… is complete.
The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 
He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.
Her lover is no more.
She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.
And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.
Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”
Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”
“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.
Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.
Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”
The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 
Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.
“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.
She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.
But that was long ago.
Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.
“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”
A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”
Tav’s pupils blow wide.
Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.
She will not rise to it.
“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”
With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”
Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.
“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”
Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.
“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.
Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.
“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”
Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…
His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.
In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.
Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.
“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.
Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”
His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.
Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.
“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”
Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.
“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”
“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”
Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.
Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 
Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.
“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”
Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.
Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.
Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.
“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.
Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”
Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.
This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 
“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”
His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.
“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”
“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.
With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 
His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.
Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.
A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.
With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.
“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.
It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.
Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.
Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.
“You can move,” she tells him meekly.
He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 
Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.
Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.
Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.
Just… having sex.
“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”
He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”
“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”
Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”
“I-”
Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.
“Astarion, I-” 
Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”
Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”
Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”
Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”
A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.
Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.
Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.
Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”
The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.
Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.
She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.
Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.
Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.
Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 
Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 
Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.
She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.
Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”
He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.
Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.
Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.
Tavaria.
The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.
Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.
“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”
Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”
Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.
Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.
Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.
They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.
The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.
“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.
-------------------------------------------
Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.
Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 
Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 
Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.
No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.
770 notes · View notes
comfortless · 2 months
Note
Priest!König and succubus!reader perhaps 👀? (Unless you're uncomfortable)
cracking my knuckles… sin??
18+. minors do not interact. this is a little shameless. corruption kink, religion, implied virgin!König, cunnilingus, come eating, a little angst.
It’s rare to find a parishioner in the confessional this late; the church’s doors were always open, their opening and shutting is not what had König stirring from a restless sleep, but the creaking of the old hinges in that little booth certainly had. The priest hurriedly dresses himself in his cassock and makes his way to the opposite end, closing the door behind him as he wearily drags himself to his seat.
“Father,” the voice greets on the other side, so soft and quiet he can hardly hear her at all. Shy, almost. The woman on the other side seems to shift, her movement rustling against the boards of wood that separate them.
“Bless me… I have never made a confession before.”
Not a parishioner, then. A stranger coming under the veil of night… König allows a silence to settle over the confessional for a moment before he produces the holy text and sets it in his lap in preparation to free this poor woman from the sin that binds her.
“Go on then, child,” he encourages, tone mirroring her own. The priest anticipates the usual: admissions of lust, falsehoods, or the common doubts. He has pages dog-eared in his book that list of scriptures for those common problems, the ones he would easily find the words to pray for, to cleanse her soul, to hopefully return to his bed to sleep before morning prayers.
There’s laughter from the other side of the booth, muffled as though an attempt to stifle it beneath her palm had been made. Then, “Father, what if I do not wish to be absolved?”
There had been no preparations made for that, but something in the tone of her voice holds his attention. His side of the booth regains its silence as his brow pinches, determined to piece together some reasoning as to why someone would choose to play some dull prank on him of all people…
“Let me see you.”
Her demand catches him off guard again, but of all things this is hardly strange. Her tone suggests nervousness, a feeling he knows all too well as he wrings his hands and rises with a heavy sigh. The door shuts quietly behind him as he waits for the woman to follow suit. A soft rustling follows his leaving from her side, and when she does step out…
No amount of internal Hail Marys could keep his stare from lingering upon the sight of a woman nude: it isn’t that he hasn’t fantasized before, he would take his lashes and fastings and sit in the quiet of his room to comfort himself with prayer after a weak defeat to his own sins. Still… imagination could not compare to the real thing; he takes note of each soft curve, each dip and line and groove of her. Her breasts are soft, her hips enticing, the length of her legs and what lies between her thighs…
He damns himself the moment his cock twitches to life below the cassock, there’s no slow tensing; only the immediate feeling of feeling horribly confined within his own clothes. He breathes out a drawn out sigh, feigning disinterest when his eyes squeeze shut and he turns his head from her.
“… You need to leave.”
The woman’s lips purse in a small pout when he does will himself to meet her eyes again- just her eyes. No part of him wishes to lose his place in heaven, let alone take advantage of some poor lady who clearly must have lost—
“But you are so lonely… I only want to help,” she whispers, her eyes are wet and pleading, expression only further softening as she gazes up at him with an adoration he hasn’t even seen on his flock.
And those words… something shatters in him, breaks into a thousand tiny pieces when he recounts all of those miserable nights lying in bed alone, imagining a woman as he pulled his cock free and gave himself so many weak, dull orgasms that the skin of it began to sting. If God could forgive him for his weakness then… surely, just once he could allow this.
König sighs again when her hands move to free him of the cassock, but he does not take her wrist to stop her. Even with each hesitant motion, he doesn’t take her wrists into his hands or push her away. He lets her strip him bare, lets her see the way his cock drools at the sight of her and his breath seems to stutter in his chest.
“See? It’s alright,” she coos as she takes his face into her gentle hands. There’s Hell in her eyes, the devil on a forked tongue, but he allows her to guide his face downward, to bring his mouth to her tit, and he feasts upon her. To have his last supper be forbidden fruit… all of the metaphors buzz in his head when his tongue begins to circle her nipple, then the other without her even needing to prompt him.
He could not even begin to describe the sounds she made, like the softest of voices amidst the roaring of a choir in his head, Hell’s wailing and Heaven’s chiming all at once as he licks his way down her sternum, her middle and finds his nose pressed to her mound. Nothing in Heaven could have tasted as sweet as her, no amount of lashing could pull the same shudder from him as he feels course through each knob of his spine when his tongue lathes over her slit, up to the hood of her clit and back.
The sounds of her pleasure only increase further when his grip on her thighs forces her to kneel. He maneuvers her onto her hands and knees to lick her properly, eat her out in ways he had only imagined himself doing before as he grips his weeping manhood in one hand and grips her ass with the other. His tongue sweeps over her in repetition— sloppy, clumsy even as he tries to keep himself from spilling into his palm from her taste and the sight alone.
He gets… curious, flicks his tongue over her other hole too and his fingers move to graze over her clit. She encourages him with soft squeals of pure delight, even draws her hand back to touch herself while he spears his tongue in her hole. If it’s only once, he would be sure to make the most of it.
Lust is not his only sin, because pride wells up deep inside of him the moment she orgasms. He smiles, grins, before he buries his tongue back into her leaking cunt, desperate to consume her, lapping inside, around, over her her until she shivers and whines, saying that it’s far too much.
He doesn’t know how to fuck her properly, admits it sheepishly when she lies back on the floor intent to have her take him in some gentle manner, sweet for her sweet priest. Missionary of all things seemed most blasphemous considering where they are, beneath a holy roof.
So, she opts to climb into his lap, seats herself on his cock in one go. He knows he’s well-endowed, thick and lengthy, and he babbles his concerns about breaking her in a weak string of words. Her cunt is too tight, he feels the way she stretches to accommodate him, each ridge of her walls when she squeezes him… The woman only tosses her head back and laughs, digs her nails into his shoulders as she bounces on his cock with such an easy grace he can’t watch— can’t because he already feels himself beginning to tense, feels the blinding heat spread from the pit of his stomach to pull his balls taut.
He swears he sees the angels right before she pulls off of him, leaves him a trembling, aching mess where the wetness of her own arousal has spilled down to his thighs.
“I want you to pray,” she suggests, sweetly peppering his face in the most chaste of kisses. “Pray you get to finish in me.”
She wants to ruin him, wants drag him down to Hell with her. There are no protests when she bends over to present herself to him; the priest does as she asks in a whisper, pleads for her and when it’s done, his reward in in the form of two words “good boy” and her tight, pulsing heat wrapped around him again.
He doesn’t last long, doesn’t even try to anymore for fear she may decide to leave him high and dry entirely. He ruts into her with a grip on the back of her neck and the plushness of her hip, leans his weight entirely over her as the sounds of impact fill the hollow church. God isn’t watching, but the little succubus below him is so appeased and her favor is all he can care for anymore.
When he comes, he fucks her through it, doesn’t even attempt to slow down as he whines into her ear about how good she feels, how they could get married, have this forever and he will show her the light. Fuck, he would leave the church behind entirely for her if she would just let him feel this every night. His thrusts only slow when he grows soft, when he can’t even keep himself inside of her cunt, slippery with his own seed.
She lies back, spreads her legs and lets him see what he’s done, fingers herself and presses his own come to his lips. She tells him he’s fed her better than anyone else, tells him to have a taste too and he does. He laps at her fingers as desperately as he had her pussy, until she pulls away, wipes his saliva onto her thigh and asks him if he’s ready to sleep.
The bed feels so much warmer with another person present, safer somehow even if he’s never felt himself in any danger… not here. He falls asleep in her embrace, the most blissful sleep he’s ever had. It’s only a shame that he had… because when he wakes in the morning the woman is gone. He misses his prayers searching for her, for even a trace of what occurred between them. There’s no stain on the floor or clothing in the confessional… not even a note to suggest she would return.
He goes back to his sad masturbation sessions, doesn’t even repent for the way he wanders into the confessional after service to fuck his fist and imagine her voice calling to him from the other side. He pictures her body beneath him, thinks of her praise and the way she damned him when he shoots spurts of wasted come against the boards. There’s no love, no woman at his side when he returns to his bed at night, but he has his imagination for that too.
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fish-and-forbear · 1 year
Text
Feeling sooooooooo much better than we were before, oh my gosh....
So glad that I have as-needed anxiety medicine set aside and that I am in a really, really good place in my life to be figuring all of this out. I think if Grist + co. had appeared sooner, or I dealt with them completely on my own, it wouldn't have been so good.
It hasn't.... been perfect either, not by a long shot but. I'd like to think it's been good. I'd like to think we're doing a lot more good than bad. I sure hope so. c:>
Learning a LOT of things about ourselves in a VERY short span of time. But it's good. It's wonderful. I feel immense catharsis and I have some exciting things I want to do and work on. SO many drawings I want to make!!!!!!! I was already on a real art streak these past couple months and I can't wait to keep going!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I'll actually share it here, too? I'm not sure yet. I get nervous about posting my art because of art theft and such but. Maybe it would be nice to share some things.
And SO EXCITED for my friend to finish this text editor config of emacs for us!!!!! :D It was originally for my own worldbuilding, research, and dnd needs but I realized it would be the perfect outlet for the guys to get their thoughts/feelings out. I hope journaling will be good for them. Grist spent a couple hours today being very thoughtful and wrote the poem that I pinned.
I am so proud of him. I think it's beautiful but he's a little shy about it, which is...sort of sweet... c:>
He wants to keep writing and has enjoyed it so far. His head seems to feel very "clear" when he is really "in the zone" with writing and thinking, and I am. So impossibly proud of him for trusting himself to be kind, gentle, and wise. He IS all of those things, but he feels like he loses touch with that and it frustrates him. I understand. I was the same way, for most of my life. He just needs to realize that he gets to choose the kind of person he wants to be. He will learn how to hold his emotions and fears, feel the edges and pain and passionate feelings, and realize that he can put them down if he wants to. He feels like he can't, that in the moment he doesn't feel physically capable of being anything else than panicked/afraid/depressed/etc. and I understand that. But he will learn that he can choose what he wants to feel. He does not have to be trapped in a spiral. He absolutely HAS felt other emotions and I have SEEN how wickedly clever, funny, thoughtful, gentle, wise, and clear-headed he can be.
He just needs to learn how to put things down and when to restart. Just like I did. And continue to learn how to improve. c:>
I am hoping that having journaling and art will help him a lot. And making a clear, defined list of coping skills and grounding tools he can reference when he feels "stuck." Hoping it will get easier as I get more in control when he is stumbling, too. I think I "freeze" when he panics, because it is a trigger to me, which makes it worse.... but realizing that I can actually stop the "loop" and that we can absolutely take breaks whenever we want is extremely freeing. <3 <3
And honestly, it's not something I expected Grist, of all people, to be able to teach me.
It's something that I've struggled with my whole life and I know I am getting so much better at it, especially comparing myself to Grist who absolutely sucks at it... bless his heart... x3 But. Something about... having a name, body, person to these feelings makes me feel. So much more determined to help him, and help myself, help us realize these things. That we are allowed to let go of guilt, fear, thought loops. We can just put them down and come back later, or not at all. And if there's a real problem, we can fix it, because that's what we do as mature, responsible adults. c:>
And... he's also helped me realize that sometimes... sometimes people aren't ready for certain things, and that's okay.
That doesn't mean it wasn't special while it lasted. It is... definitely something that I've spent the past few years slowly processing, after the end of my own 8 year relationship with someone I loved (and love) very, very much. That person is still in my life, but in a different, healthier, more distanced way. That person has also helped me realize that...relationships come in many forms. And that is wonderful.
I don't know how to describe it.
Grist realizing that he doesn't need a sexual partnership/devotion to feel happy/fulfilled in the type of relationship he wants. Yes what he wants is... maybe a little stranger than a conventional friendship, but that makes sense for him. His people were...a special bunch. And the camaraderie that he shared with them resonates with me, as well. It's something I ALSO needed to hear, I think.
That we can pick and choose exactly what we want and need and that is wonderful. I don't know why we were both so foolish as to not see that that is alright to do.
And for me... being honest with myself, and those that I care about so deeply, that sometimes something can be impossibly beautiful, joyous, kind, gentle, and lifechanging (in a great way!) but also needs space to breathe. Sometimes that means a LOT of space. And that is okay. Sometimes that means regrouping later (like my friendship with my ex-partner, where we are now better friends in the past 3 years than the other 10 that we knew each other!!! c:) and sometimes maybe not. And that's okay too. c:>
I am just..... so relieved. So RELIEVED beyond words that we didn't ruin it. We really didn't. We're going to be okay and we did the right thing. I know we did. And even today, I am just.... so happy..... I am so happy with the way things are, right now... I am so so so so so so so so relieved. <3 <3 <3 <3
Even if it changes more, even if.... if Grist or Neumes can't talk someday and we aren't together anymore, or our friendships change or disappear entirely, or our memories fade and we forget, that's okay. It's going to be okay. Because these things still happened and it was beautiful and we were here. <3
0 notes
amomentsescape · 1 month
Note
hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)
I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.
(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)
Slashers with Mermaid! Reader
Yandere! Slashers x Reader
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo
A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).
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Freddy Krueger
Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life
He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death
You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world
Your dynamic is pretty ideal too
Whenever you sleep, you can visit him
And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi
He does this quite often, in fact
He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried
You're his
He doesn't trust anyone being around you
Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately
He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world
He can create the perfect environment for you
Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires
Which hopefully it does
Since he isn't willing to wait much longer
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Michael Myers
He never thought creatures like you actually existed
But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment
He visits more often then you think
He's always around, watching
You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from
He enjoys watching you swim and just relax
But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you
There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill
But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy
He hates seeing you touch other people
And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise
He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times
You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side
Right?
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Jason Voorhees
Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason
But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear
He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before
He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current
But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness
He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories
But he knows that's nearly impossible
He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest
You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job
He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you
He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?
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Thomas Hewitt
In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you
But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten
And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others
He was kind to you
And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can
You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells
He wears every single one of them
Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you
But Thomas can only take so much
Why can't you be closer?
He knows the family would love you
And he could make you so happy
His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it
He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you
He's just got to be patient
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Bubba Sawyer
His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days
But he just couldn't help it
You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side
He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it
He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else
That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!
That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again
He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it
This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else
You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty
And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same
He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it
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Brahms Heelshire
He hates this dynamic between you two
He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else
No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him
He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop
He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does
It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times
He wants that too, so desperately
Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days
Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you
He insists it's to keep you safe
In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while
And you can thank Brahms for that
The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them
He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him
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Norman Bates
It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real
He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream
He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters
But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once
He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster
Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7
He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you
He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times
He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together
Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough
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Billy Loomis
Doesn't tell a single soul about you
Not even Stu
And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people
He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you
Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water
Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales
He just thinks you're all around incredible
But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation
He wants to walk around town with you, show you off
He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be
And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times
He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general
He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him
He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him
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Stu Macher
He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death
And Stu was immediately enamored
He comes to see you whenever he can
He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you
He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him
You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him
He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people
How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list
He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before
He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you
And if you argue against it, he will shut down
The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker
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Vincent Sinclair
Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made
You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7
He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell
He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him
He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to
But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him
Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil
Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people
The only one who should be receiving that attention is him
Barely sleeps at night
He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes
Is overall obsessed even more than you know
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Bo Sinclair
If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush
The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly
You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life
He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you
He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live
But little do you know of his darker nature
He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them
He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him
And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you
You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted
You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea
It will be a great surprise
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cntloup · 11 days
Text
Medieval AU reader is homeless and a prostitute, mention of beating up and stoning
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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As days go by, the grogginess and the fog in your brain gradually lift off and you remember everything more clearly. What happened on that day and what led you to be in that awful situation. 
A priest caught you talking to a nobleman’s son and accused you of seducing him, tainting his pure soul, tempting him to leave the path of God and tread the way of the devil. 
He screamed in your face, making heads turn in your direction. And in no time, everyone present at the square gathered around you and started shouting and beating you up and if he hadn’t saved you, you’d most probably be stoned to death. 
You remain in bed all day, your heart plenished with gloom and sorrow, silent tears flowing down your eyes. 
But you start to feel a lightness in your heart as you begin to think about him. 'Simon' he has mentioned his name is. Your mind is filled with questions about him.
Until he returns from work and finds you still in bed and the food untouched. 
“Are you alright?” he asks as he enters the room and approaches the bed, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 
You quickly wipe your tears with your hands, “Y-yeah. I'm fine. Sorry for the long stay. I'll be leaving today.” you respond, almost ashamed to be caught in such a state. 
You start to slowly get up, “No, no! You still need to rest.” he prevents you from leaving the bed, gently pushing your shoulders to lay you back down. 
“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asks, having a slight hunch what the answer is. 
“Not really.” you reply, shameful to admit such a thing, but deciding that honesty is best in this situation. He's been nothing but kind to you. Hopefully he can help you, “In fact, no. I have no home... And no one.” you finally admit, voice slightly shaking with the lump in your throat. 
He nods, “You can stay as long as you want. I'm not home most of the time so you can have the place to yourself for now.” he says so nonchalantly as if it’s nothing to offer your place to a stranger you just met two days ago. 
“Aren’t you worried?” you ask in shock, “Of what?” he questions, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. 
“You don’t know me! I could be a thief! Also aren’t you worried that I would sully your reputation by staying here in your home?” you ask, surprised expression written on your face. 
“I know you’re not a thief. If you were, you would not do what you do. And I couldn’t care less about my ‘reputation’ and what all these pricks think.” he replies earnestly, almost mocking the word ‘reputation’, surprising you even further with his answer. 
You start to find this man more and more interesting by the second. He's like no other man you’ve ever met. He's an enigma for sure, and intriguing to figure out. 
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str4wkinzi · 7 months
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NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DONT INTERACT!!
Your teacher comes over to your desk, putting one hand on your shoulder.
“Stay after class today.”
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Teacher! fav x Reader :3 (comic said change it to any character)
COMIC’S BIRTHDAY BASH HERE!!
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You wait in your seat after class, watching everyone else pack up and leave. He goes over to the door, closing and locking it.
“Your grades have been.. low. Is anything wrong?” He questions as he comes over to your desk.
You say no. Well, you try to say no. You look at him staring into your soul with those eyes. He’s your teacher, you shouldn’t think like this!
He snaps his fingers in your face. When did he get so close? He leans down, he’s so close to your face.
“I think i know what the problem is..” he whispers to himself as he stands up. You don’t hear it.
“Is it me? Are you.. distracted by me?” He says.
You could barely count the number of no’s that left your lips. No. That’s a lie. He knows it. You know it. But maybe you can…
“Maybe i need to… teach you how to pay attention in class.”
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“You can suck cock better than that, sweetheart.” He groans with a slight chuckle.
You never thought you’d be sucking your teachers cock. Well, you thought about it, but who thought it would actually happen?
With his eyes burning into your helpless state. Head bobbing on his cock as his hips meet your lips.
He stops you.
“What’s the answer to this?” He asks, coming out more like a demand than a question.
You hold your fingers up, ‘five.’
You see him smile and grab your hair, lifting your head off his cock.
“That was too easy for you. We both know you’re smarter than basic math, right?”
You nod shyly as you await his next set of words.
“Let’s give you a real challenge.”
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Bent over his desk, he asks you once more.
“Write down the fucking answer.” He demands between thrusts.
You write the answer on the paper, sloppily, but it’s there and its right. He chuckles and stops all movements.
“Answer this question correctly. This is the last one.”
You nod as you whine.
“Are you going to pay attention from now on?” He asks.
You nod frantically, practically breaking your neck trying too.
“Words.” Is all he says before he starts pounding to you. Your words get caught in your throat as he fucks them out of you.
Shaking, moaning, dripping mess. You yell ‘yes’ just as he hits your cervix.
“Yes what? What are you saying yes for?” He chuckles as his thrusts get harder.
You angrily whine and try to mutter out a slur of words.
“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”
Fuck, he’s driving you insane.
“Yes, i’ll pay attention in class from now on.”
You wish it came out like that. It came out shaky and full of desperate moans. You could barely comprehend your own sentence.
“I’ll let you off easy this time.” He whispers in your ear as he thrusts impossibly harder then before.
Moans, groans, and lewd slapping fill the classroom. What if someone came back to get something they forgot?
A student and a teacher, fucking right over his desk. What if somebody heard your loud moans through the door?
Those are the thoughts you would be having if you weren’t so fucked out right now.
When you both eventually cum he helps you put all your clothes that he ripped off on.
He helps you walk out of the school and into his car. Along the way, you ask him where you two are going.
“Private lessons, of course. I’ll call your parents and say you needed them.”
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STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < guys ive been going crazy.. imagine crying while writing smut its a really good experience - STR4WKINZI anyways everything is going out in the next 4-3 days (hopefully) cuz im not busy :3 except school ofc BYE I LOVE YOU GUYS 3
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