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#in fairness though I kind of understand the side eyeing
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Have I written something for camboy today?
Yes.
Have I also written something for another AU that has made what feels like half the discord side eye me because they no longer believe me when I say "It will be fine"?
Yes.
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Red tipped gloves || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: The thought of motherhood at such a young age was absolutely terrifying. Though Coriolanus doesn’t seem to understand why.!
Warnings: mention of blood, self harm in the form of picking at nails, toxic Coryo, reader is implied to be young, manipulation, if there's anything else pls lmk
Wc: 811
A/n: I'm so bad with these summaries I can't even.
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
A child expecting a child. How messed up was that? You rub the swell of your stomach as you stare at yourself. Youth evident in your still-round cheeks, yet the impending responsibilities cast shadows on the innocence of your features.
Gnawing at your law rips, you smooth down the dress that Coriolanus picked out for you. Dainty, innocent, just like how he liked to dress you up for social events.
Your hands subconsciously move together as you pick at your already picked-at nails. The horrible habit you picked up ever since you got married to Coryo.
Hearing the door suddenly open, you quickly pause your actions, moving your hands behind your back as you turn around to face Coryo.
Noticing your strange behaviour, he pauses to look at you before his eyes move behind you to the reflection of the mirror where you fingers were fidgeting.
Swiftly closing the door, Coriolanus strides purposefully toward you, casting a tall shadow as he towers over. Even in high heels, you find him looming above. “Show me your hands,” he commands, his tone firm and unyielding.
A subtle blend of defiance and confusion colors your expression, causing a faint twitch in your lips. “What?” your voice was too quiet, your tone feigning nervousness. A light gulp accompanies the gentle quiver of your lips.
“I said, show me your hands,” Coriolanus repeats himself, his tone escalating in volume. You release a slow exhale through your nose, carefully extending your hands in front of you. Your eyes, hesitant and uneasy, divert off to the side, catching the subtle nuances of your husband’s frustration as he lets out a sigh.
“I thought you stopped that horrible habit of yours,” he retorted sharply, firmly grabbing your hands as you flinched. A displeased expression crosses his face as he looks down at your fingers—raw and drawing blood—before his gaze shifts to your face, your bottom lip nervously tucked beneath your front teeth.
“I couldn’t help it,” you whisper softly, a hint of shame and embarrassment weaving through your tone, while he exhales deeply through his nose. “I’ll arrange for more gloves to be sent to you before tonight,” he says wearily, gently resting his hands on the curve of your stomach before quietly leaving.
~
Beside Coriolanus, engaged with his fair-weathered friends, you find yourself zoning out, your gaze fixed on the glass of water cradled in your gloved hands. The murmur of conversation fades into the background; you’re simply bored and disinterested in the overly serious discussion.
“Darling,” Coriolanus’ voice, firm yet gentle, pulls your attention as you lift your eyes to find everyone in the group focused on you. “I’m sorry, what was it?” you meekly ask, eliciting light chuckles from the women and amused glances from the men.
Coriolanus holds himself back from rolling his eyes, instead, he takes a large gulp of his posca. “Mrs. Cardew asked you how far along you are,” He smiles down at you, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Oh,” you say softly, meeting Mrs. Cardew’s gaze, “28 weeks.” You smile at the older woman, and a few people in the group react with appreciative sounds. Coriolanus pulls you closer to his side, a possessive grasp signaling to those with wandering eyes who you belong to.
As the night wore on, a queasiness settled in your stomach. Socializing with Coriolanus’ friends became exhausting—forcing smiles, feigning excitement for the baby was draining. Leaning in, you whisper in Coriolanus’ ear, “Can I retire to our room? I don’t feel well.”
“Do you really need to? Right now?” he harshly whispers, and you gulp, hesitantly nodding. He sighs, rolls his eyes, and gets up. “Excuse me, my wife needs to rest,” he says to those around you with a fake smile as you quietly apologised.
Hand in hand, Coriolanus leads you to your shared bedroom, forcefully closing the door behind you. It was abundantly clear that he's upset about your early departure from the party.
“Did you just make up an excuse so you could leave the party? Is that it?” Coryo bitterly accuses you as you take a seat on one of the couches. “What? I didn’t make up an excuse. I’m pregnant for heavens sake, Coryo,” You frown, deeply offended by his accusation.
“Yeah, sure,” He chuckles, crossing his arms. “Why is that so hard to believe,” you scoff, mirroring his crossed arms. "Eleanor is in the exact same state as you, and she seemed perfectly fine," he shrugs, his tone nonchalant, causing your lips to part in disbelief.
“Are you seriously comparing me to Eleanor?” You furrow your eyebrows, a touch of frustration in your voice. Ready to counter his unfair comparison, you point out the facts, “She's considerably older than me, has experienced childbirth before. Naturally, she'd feel fine, Coryo."
Coriolanus mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his attitude towards you causing tears to well up in your eyes. His choice of comparison feels like a pointed jab in the most sensitive spot. When you sniffle, your husband's attention is caught. "Are you crying?" he swiftly retorts, his gaze probing, while you avert your eyes, concealing the probable redness.
A soft laugh escapes him, "Honestly, you can be so childish sometimes. Getting upset over that?" He raises an eyebrow at you—ironically so. His comment serves as a spark igniting a blaze within you. How dare he call you childish when you’ve done nothing but act older than you were.
“I just can’t believe you’re comparing me to Eleanor who’s had children before, unlike me who’s fucking terrified at the thought of being a mother,” you spat, the intensity of your emotions evident in your words. Even from a distance, you notice the shift in Coriolanus' eyes, the once-blue depths now darkening with an unspoken tension.
“As the First Lady you’re expected to give me heirs. Now I need a woman who’s ready to give me children, are you going to be her or not?” His words strike a nerve, and you feel your eyes twitch as a headache begins to form.
"Did you even think about that before marrying me, Coryo?" you challenge, your words causing him to furrow his eyebrows. "Because you damn well know I'm not prepared to be a mother. So, why choose me? You could have selected someone else—someone older, someone genuinely willing to birth your children." The air hangs heavy with the weight of your words, leaving a palpable tension between you and Coriolanus.
Your fingers unconsciously pick at your nails, the once-immaculate white gloves now bear crimson stains at the fingertips. Coriolanus' gaze fixates on your hands, and he snaps, swiftly moving towards you to pry your fingers apart. "Stop doing that!" he commands, his tone sharp.
As he moves in, his face is so close that you can feel his breath gently fanning your features. Undeterred, he continues with a venom-laced voice, "You should be thanking me for choosing you, for pulling your family from debt." His eyes, intense and unyielding, bore into yours.
“I could have married someone else. I had a list I could have chosen from who could’ve helped but no, you had to marry me.” you assert, the weight of your words causing a brief shock to cross Coriolanus' face. It's a rare moment where you've left him momentarily speechless.
Breaking the silence, he mutters, "I'll have the servants bring you some medicine." With one final glance, he withdraws, leaving the room. The atmosphere hangs thick with unspoken tensions, the stained gloves and the lingering words serving as tangible reminders of the strain in your relationship.
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emmyrosee · 2 years
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[4:56 pm]
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Immediately, your eyes bug out at the sound of your husband coming home and bursting through the door. Your hands that had been playing with the teddy bear on the bed stills, and you freeze for a moment.
Your daughter, Kamiko, also now having been surprised at the noise, looks up at you to gauge your reaction and dictate how she should feel, eyes like Katsuki’s blinking up at you. You gnaw your lip as there’s another yell, one of your name, and you’re quick to look at your daughter and hold a finger to your lips to keep her quiet, though giggling softly to ease her. She giggles back, and you shush her softly.
“YOUVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”
Okay. Maybe spending an unspeakable amount on pastries was fair to make him rage. But in your defense, you never get to go into that bakery!
Katsuki knows the absolute fortune you tend to shell out for their pastries, and he tries his damn hardest to keep you out of there. He knows they’re good, but he tells you that ‘that’s not the point.’
So, naturally, when he went to work and you and Kamiko made your way to run errands, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon rolls were just too enticing to ignore. You’d made your way into the quiet bakery and grabbed things that would surely be appreciated by Katsuki.
Apparently, however, he saw the damage on his credit card before your kindness can show.
Whups.
You’re quick to lay down on your side- back facing the door and body curled around Kamiko- still holding a finger to your lips, and when she gives you a nod of understanding, you close your eyes just in time for angry feet to storm down the hallway to your room. You hear the door fly open, and you can feel the crimson eyes of your husband boring into the back of your skull.
“I’m going to absolutely destroy you-“
“Dadda,” your two year old whispers, and you hear her ease out a soft ‘shhhh.’ “Mumma sleepin’.”
“Is she?” He snarls, unconvinced. “And she let you stay awake? Just because?”
“Was sleepin’ too, dadda. Woke me up…”
Where she learned to be such a good liar, you’ll never know.
You hear Katsuki let out an impatient exhale through his nose, clearly weighing his options as your breathing continues its rhythmic pace, mimicking sleep. Kamiko’s tiny hand pats your cheek affectionately. “Dadda, shhhh…”
Katsuki sighs dramatically, and you are surprised to feel the soft peck against your temple, massive, calloused hand smoothing down your back. “We will discuss this later,” he snarls in your ear. “Get some rest, Kami. I’m gonna start dinner, okay?”
“Okay dadda!” She chirps, and when you hear his feet pad away and the door close, your eyes fly open and a smile spreads wide over your face.
“You’re such a little troublemaker!” You growl playfully, taking the little girl into your arms and kissing her all over. She squeals at your affections and gently shoves your face away. “Ohhh just like your mommy! And your uncle Denki! He’s gonna be so-“
“I KNEW YOU WERENT ASLEEP!”
The door slams back open, and a disgruntled Katsuki immediately flies back in, gathering you and Kamiko in each arm. You two shriek, but the smiles on your face absolutely plastered, unbudging from your faces as he manhandles you- Kamiko, with a raspberry on her cheek back onto the bed, and you, over his shoulder mercilessly.
“YOU SPENT ¥13000 IN THAT STUPID BAKERY?! AND YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER TO LIE TO ME?!” He’s trying as hard as he can to keep the smirk off his face, though you hear it breaking through in his shouts.
Your fists bang against his back, nails digging in, but he’s unrelenting, and you whine out when he makes a fake move to drop you. “I-I wanted coffee cake!” You titter, screwing your eyes shut. “Kami! Help me!”
“Go, dadda!”
“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!” You bark in betrayal.
“The winning side,” he snickers, turning on his feet to carry you out of the room. “If you help me punish mumma, I won’t punish you so bad, Kami.”
“Yeah!”
“NO!”
Was it worth having one of the cupcakes getting smushed into your face? Not really (though him kissing you through the frosting was definitely worth something!)
Was it worth the memory you’d only added to the vault as a family?
God, yes.
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
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alone.
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i wrote this in maybe a half hour and it's very short but i was very in my feels so you get angsty sol as a result before the events of family line. sol struggles. there is change on the horizon, but she doesn't see it.
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It was the same every morning, the same every day. A quick knock would wake you, a second knock a few minutes later telling you it was time to get up. You’d throw on clothes that didn’t quite fit with Spain’s climate, tie your hair up in a bun, and go downstairs. 
Breakfast was always quiet, ever since the first few weeks, when Ingrid had tried to engage you in conversation and you rejected every attempt. She’d ask you a question that would remind you how little she knew about your life now. You’d snap back at her unintentionally, she’d get angry, and the table would fall quiet. Eventually, it just stayed quiet. 
You’d go to school, barely understand a word spoken to you. Scrape by with passable grades, most of the time. Go back to Ingrid’s house. Do your school work at the kitchen table, where she could keep an eye on you. Hide in your room until dinner. Hide in your room after dinner. Distract yourself with a mindless show, or more often, a nature documentary of some kind. Fall asleep, dream of lakes and forests and grass and mountains; things that could never be disappointed in you. 
You went through the motions. Step by step, day after day. Not really living, just existing. Not trying, either. 
You’d stop trying a long time ago. Long before Spain, before the small, bland extra bedroom you slept in. Before disappointed looks had begun to come from your sister. You’d stopped trying when you were still in Norway, still disappointing your parents. 
Back in Norway, you felt content being mostly invisible. Your parents ignoring you was better than being yelled at, though they still did that a fair amount.There was something about being here, though, in Spain that was just… different. 
Perhaps it was that part of you, little you, who still remembered Ingrid as someone who gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you smile. Little you hadn’t ever had much hope in her parents, but she’d had hope in Ingrid. That part of you clung to the idea that Ingrid could still make everything better, like she had when you were small. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of that hope. 
It crushed you, time and time again, when Ingrid yelled at you, or frowned at a bad grade, or sent you to your room for being a few minutes past curfew, without even letting you explain why you’d been late [there’d been a turtle in the road on your walk from the climbing gym, and it had taken 5 minutes you didn’t have to make sure it got across safely]. When she’d sigh after another weekend passed, and you remained locked in your room. When she’d tell you to just try harder. At speaking Spanish, at making friends, at school. 
You didn’t have anything left to give. All of your energy was spent dragging yourself out of bed. Why couldn’t she see that? Growing up, it had felt like Ingrid had been the only one to see you. Now, though, she was just like everyone else. She saw what your parents saw, you decided. Someone who just wasn’t worth it. 
Ingrid had always loved you. Even when it was hard to believe that your parents did, Ingrid always told you she loved you. She hadn’t said it in a while, though. You hadn’t heard from your Mamma in weeks, the last text you’d gotten from your Pappa had been scolding you for spending too much money. [You’d bought Ingrid a birthday present, but he made you return it before you could give it to her]. 
Maybe you just weren’t someone who could be loved. You rolled onto your side, covering your ears to block out the sound of Ingrid’s loud laughter at something Mapi had said. Tears dripped off your face, and you wished you were 7 again, burying your face in your sister’s shoulder and knowing that as long as she had you, you’d be okay. That was back when she loved you, though. You were pretty sure she didn’t anymore. How could she? When all you did was screw up, who could love someone like you? 
You weren’t 7 anymore, you were 17, and you were all alone. In a house hundreds of miles away from home, with your sister who you felt like you barely knew anymore. All alone. You were beginning to think that was all you’d ever be. Alone. 
You didn’t know a lot of things, though. You didn’t know about the book shoved under Ingrid’s pillow, about troubled teens. You didn’t know that she’d stand in your doorway sometimes, just watching you sleep. Enjoying that, at least while resting, you didn’t frown. 
You didn’t know your Pappa picked up the phone often, but never called, feeling like he’d created a gap he wasn’t sure he could ever fix. Didn’t know that sometimes your Mamma slept in your bed, remembering the small child that had once smelled of syrup and brought her flowers from the garden. 
You didn’t know that Mapi stayed up late at night, duolingo open on her phone, hoping that maybe speaking a language you understood would make you feel more at home. 
You didn’t know that Ingrid loved you more than her heart could take, sometimes, and that she was just doing what she thought would work. She didn’t realize you didn’t need discipline, that you just needed a support system. 
Things would improve, but you didn’t know that. As you sobbed into your pillow, you were pretty sure you’d always feel like this; unloved and completely alone. 
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jayflrt · 11 months
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golden boy
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❝ c’mon, this is exactly like the bahamas if you close your eyes. ❞
PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, best friends to lovers, summer romance au, rich kid au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, underage drinking, heeseung is the biggest simp ever, and he calls you princess, mc has a stepdad, she is also a little spoiled in the beginning, tooth rotting fluff (like might be the fluffiest thing i’ve written), mutual pining ofc because this is a jayflrt fic, friends being insufferable (mainly 02z)
SUMMARY ▸ in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.
WORD COUNT ▸ 16,375 words
PLAYLIST ▸ youth by troye sivan • tongue tied by grouplove • ribs by lorde • sanctuary by joji • cruel summer by taylor swift • stars by duncan laurence
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i have been waiting AGES to share this one so i hope u guys like it !! ♡ also pls play stars by duncan laurence during the observatory scene if you’d like :’)
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IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER VACATION WHEN YOU RECEIVED THE GOD-AWFUL NEWS.
“Your father and I are finally gonna have our honeymoon this summer!” your mother exclaimed, grinning excitedly as if she was expecting you to reciprocate the same energy.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t god-awful, but this was the one summer where you didn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of being a student. Having recently graduated from high school, you were basking in the glow of finally becoming an adult and an incoming college freshman. You were finally free from AP exams, college applications, and the pressure of balancing academics and a social life. So, given all that, you were rather upset that your parents were leaving you behind before you had to fall into the routine of being a student all over again.
You didn’t mind having this talk. In fact, you were glad your mother was telling you in advance instead of just jetting away to another country and leaving a note behind. However, you didn’t understand why she had to have this conversation in front of your best friend, Lee Heeseung.
It probably didn’t help that you two had been joined at the hip since you were wearing diapers, but your families had gotten far too comfortable with each other. Just last week, Heeseung’s mom was asking you if you both had finally “tied the knot,” to which you replied by explaining that you had just graduated high school.
You were happy for your mother and stepfather, really. Your mother had experienced her fair share of bad relationships after your father left, so you were glad that she finally met someone so kind and genuine. You weren’t ever one to judge the men your mother brought home, but your stepfather always got brownie points for playing Mario Kart with you whenever he came over. Not to mention, he bought you the Nintendo Switch to play it on. He seemed to be the only man who didn’t feel insecure about your mother’s success and lavish lifestyle, so you only had good things to say about him.
While you were genuinely glad with the outcome of your parents’ relationship, that unbecoming, spoiled side of you was slipping through the cracks. Even your brain was shouting at you for complaining about having to stay in Bel Air for the summer. Yet, you were just far too frustrated with the bleak vision of your own summer to care about your parent’s honeymoon. In two weeks, you should have been vacationing in the Bahamas with a piña colada in your hand, not waiting for your parents to come back from Rome.
“That sounds so fun,” you chirped with fake enthusiasm, although you supposed it was easily detected due to your gritted teeth, “and that’s not gonna interfere with our trip to the Bahamas, right?” When she didn’t respond, you asked again, “Right, Mom?”
Your mother wore an uneasy look on her face at the sight of your displeasure, so Heeseung cut in quickly, “I think you should probably forget about the Bahamas this year, Y/N.”
“Heeseung!” you whined, sending him a sharp glare. He did not just tell you to forget about the Bahamas. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“Not around your mom, dude,” he muttered.
“He’s right, Y/N.” Your mother smiled as she placed her hands on your shoulders. “I mean, it would be good for you to stay here with all of your friends for once; I don’t think you’ve ever not left the country for the summer.” When you sulked, your mother tried to encourage you by gently squeezing your shoulders. “Heeseung and your other friends are here, and you have a car now! Yeji’s family moved to Irvine now, didn’t they? You can drive down to see her.”
You nodded, a little more encouraged. You and Hwang Yeji had been close ever since you met at Choi Jisu’s birthday party in middle school. When Yeji’s parents decided to move to Irvine, finding that housing was much more expensive in Los Angeles County, you were absolutely crushed. Plus, it wasn’t like Orange County was any less expensive, so you felt even more bitter about their sudden move. It wasn’t like you could drive and see Yeji whenever you wanted, either; the one hour drive felt like three with all the Los Angeles traffic.
You hung your head, dejected. “I guess so.” You turned your head to the side, noticing the snicker that Heeseung was holding back. After shooting him a dirty look, you looked back at your mother. “When are you leaving?”
“This weekend,” she responded, eyes fixed on her phone screen now. “I have to sort out my PTO with my boss today, though.” She kissed the top of your head and started heading for the door, heels clicking against the linoleum flooring with each step. “I’ll see you later tonight, Y/N! And make sure Heeseung actually goes home tonight!”
You shot a glance at your friend, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world in reaction to your mother’s words.
Heeseung tended to be scared of everything—everything except actually scary things, like biblically accurate angels or the wrath of his mother.
You gave your best friend a condescending half-grin, which he returned sheepishly. As of late, Heeseung had become notorious for staying out late with Jay Park, Jake Sim, and Park Sunghoon. (Yang Jungwon often joined them, but he was adamant about going home before midnight. Something about not wanting to miss out on his beauty sleep.) Everyone thought this was the beginning of Heeseung’s teenage rebellion (which was rather delayed), but then you discovered that all they did was play games in an internet café and occasionally use their fake IDs to get into VIP lounges at clubs.
When you heard the door shut, you circled around the couch to sit next to Heeseung.
“This sucks,” you said flatly. “Summer means an ungodly rise in temperature—hot enough to melt the skin off my bones, and I’d rather have that happen while I’m sunbathing in the Bahamas!”
“Do you realize how spoiled you sound right now?” Heeseung snorted, looking up from his phone where he was playing Cookie Run from the umpteenth time. You swore he was addicted to the game despite the numerous times he told you he was just playing it as a joke. Your best friend continued, “You should be happy for your mom instead of complaining about your summer being ruined.”
You sank back in your seat. You hated to admit it, but Heeseung was right; you were being uptight about this whole situation. You just couldn’t help but feel disappointed about the one thing you were looking forward to all year long.
Heeseung leaned closer so that you both were shoulder-to-shoulder, and he nudged you. You looked over and were met with his dazzling grin. Frankly, you were honored that you were graced with his attention in the middle of his Cookie Run gaming session.
“You can spend the summer with me instead,” he offered.
You snorted. “That was gonna happen, anyway. You spend all your free time at my place.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Heeseung asked, brows knitting into a frown.
He looked at you so intensely that your breath caught in your throat for a moment. The proximity coupled with the shift in tone made you feel self-conscious, and you were scared that Heeseung was going to let some unspoken feeling slip.
However, his face broke into a mischievous grin. “You guys have a jacuzzi.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line and shoved him harder. This time, Heeseung was laughing as he fell against one of the cushions on his side. You grabbed one of the throw pillows and started pummeling him with it.
“You have your own jacuzzi, too, dumbass,” you retorted. “You’d know if you actually stayed at your own house for once! Also, you’ve lost your pool privileges here after you poured bubble bath in ours.”
“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“You clogged our jets and we had to pay someone to get rid of the bubbles, Heeseung.”
“Jake was the one who poured the bubble bath in!”
“And who was the one who gave him the idea?”
Heeseung grimaced, and you were seconds away from reminding him how you took the fall for him when your parents asked what happened to the hot tub. Before you could, though, he spoke up.
“I was being serious, though,” he started, “do you wanna have a fun summer with me, or do you wanna stay bitter and do nothing?”
Something about Heeseung’s condescending tone was pissing you off. You stared at him before delivering one last blow with the throw pillow.
“Ow! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics; you didn’t even hit him that hard.
“I’ll see you later,” you told him, turning on your heel to head upstairs without seeing your friend out. “I have plans with Yizhuo now.”
You weren’t exactly sure how you became friends with Ning Yizhuo, but throughout high school, everyone knew the two of you came in a package deal. When you were in third period AP World History, everyone knew that Yizhuo would switch out of her second period section to be in your class; when you didn’t show up to calculus, it was no surprise that it was because you were ditching with Yizhuo; when Zhong Chenle asked Yizhuo out, he realized that commitment came with becoming your friend as well.
At first, you assumed that it was because your mothers were close, but that didn’t explain why you spent countless nights at her place and picked her up for school every single morning. Heeseung even once admitted that he was jealous of your friendship with her. He was drunk when he mentioned that, of course. He would never admit to that while he was sober.
When she got into a school on the west coast and you got into a school on the east coast, though, you thought your life was over. (When you figured out your meet-up plans were somewhat manageable, you felt a little better.)
On the bright side, you were stoked to attend Yale with your partner-in-crime, Heeseung.
“Wait! Let me drive you,” said partner-in-crime offered.
You turned to face him, wide-eyed. “It’s like a thirty minute drive, Heeseung. I’m going to her country club.”
Despite your protests, you knew that Heeseung would be more than willing to drive all the way over there. Hell, you could tell him you wanted to go to Las Vegas right now, and he’d somehow manage to arrange a trip for you two. You had never met anyone as spontaneous as him.
Now, though, you were trying to get away from him because you were a little bitter about his comment. On the other hand, you really didn’t want to drive alone, so you kept his proposition on the table.
“Oh, her country club? The one up north, right?” he inquired. “Can I bring Jake, too? We’ll just hang out at the mall while you do your thing.”
You mulled it over—not for long, though, because you found yourself caving easily. “Fine.”
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You forgot that Heeseung bringing Jake meant that Jay and Sunghoon were coming along for the ride, too.
The three of them were squeezed in the back of Heeseung’s Tesla, with Jay incessantly complaining about how he had to take the middle seat. He even went as far as to compare heights, and Sunghoon used his one centimeter on Jay to his advantage. Jake remained silent for once.
You ran your finger along the smooth leather of your seat and snorted.
“Are you making fun of my car?” Heeseung asked with a chuckle.
“No, I’m making fun of how you dropped extra money for white seats.”
“And for the seven-seater.”
“What?!” Jay exclaimed, swiveling in his seat to look behind him. “And you still squeezed me in the middle seat?”
“Not my fault you didn’t look behind you, dude.”
Sunghoon and Jake proceeded to laugh at their friend, and you were about to do the same until you realized you had looked to see if Heeseung was laughing along with you. To your delight, he was. That, and the wind was blowing in his hair so perfectly. The golden sun shone across his face in a way that made his eyes crinkle up and his smile grow. You would always scold him for not having sunglasses on him, but, this time, you were a little distracted by how he glowed.
Heeseung then turned to you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh. “What’s up?”
“N-nothing at all.” You coughed, tearing your gaze away to look ahead at the freeway. “Are we almost there?”
You just then registered how the backseat had gotten awfully silent, and when you turned to check on The Three Idiots (you deemed this title upon them back in high school, and it stuck), they all had Cheshire grins spread across their faces. It was a little scary, honestly. Their antics were nightmarish on their own, but what their eyes suggested was something that would haunt you. You fought down the heat creeping up your cheeks in an effort to appear indifferent, and you turned back to look at the GPS.
Ten minutes. You had to deal with them for ten more minutes. That was 600 seconds. Maybe you could tune out the testosterone if you counted down your arrival time.
To your relief, though, ten minutes passed by much faster because the four boys got into a heated argument over the superior boba shop in the Bay Area. You had to interject by reminding them that none of them were even from the Bay Area. Heeseung wound up going on a tangent about how he and Choi Yeonjun went on a day trip last weekend, which you would have remembered “if you were a better friend.”
You did remember, actually. Heeseung was texting you the entire time about Yeonjun forcing him to choose between him or a PS5. You presumed that Heeseung chose the PS5 because Yeonjun posted a black screen on his Snapchat story with the caption “dhmu” followed by a wilting rose and broken heart emoji.
(They wound up gaming all night afterward, anyway.)
The Three Idiots sensed tension from the back seat, so they started a new debate: the superior boba shop in Los Angeles.
You couldn’t believe that this was the depth of their conversations.
When you finally arrived at Yizhuo’s country club, you were being nagged by Sunghoon to get out of the car. He was eager to go to the mall and try out a new sushi place that everyone had been raving about. For someone who seemed to lack any seriousness, Sunghoon was extremely diligent about his frequent Yelp reviews; he even got promoted to the Yelp Elite Squad.
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” you complained, shooting Heeseung a withering look—a please save me from your friends, which he grinned at. “Bye, then.”
“Have fun, princess,” Heeseung called as you were closing the door, and you were grateful your back was turned so that he couldn’t see the look on your face.
(“Princess?” Jay questioned. “Did you just call her princess?”
“It’s an inside joke!” Heeseung rebuked.
“And were you just checking her out?” came Jake’s muffled voice from inside the car, and a bark of laughter followed immediately after from Sunghoon and Jay.)
You shook your head when Heeseung sped off as quickly as possible. You could picture it so vividly; he would be defending himself to his dying breath, cheeks bright red as his mouth ran. Although you found it funny, you knew that Heeseung was probably just glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t too close to the car before he drove away.
“Y/N!” Yizhuo called from the entrance. You turned to see her clad in a cotton shirt and tennis skirt, standing next to Zhong Chenle. “Did you think we were swimming or something?”
Yes, you most definitely did think you were going to be sunbathing by the poolside. With a sheer cover-up over your black one-piece, you were definitely not ready to play tennis with Yizhuo and her boyfriend. You even had your red heart-shaped sunglasses on your head.
You let out a petulant whine, taking your walk of shame over to the two. “I’m already in the racquet club, so why would I come here to play more tennis?”
Yizhuo shrugged, but the one thing you loved about her was that she was flexible with plans. “I’ll just change into my swimsuit, then. I’ve been wanting to sunbathe,” she said before handing Chenle her racquet. “Looks like doubles didn’t work out. Are you and Jisung good with playing singles?”
“I don’t mind as long as I win,” Chenle answered with a grin. “See you two later.”
He was clearly delighted because you were probably the only competition he had to worry about. You were sure Park Jisung would complain when he found out that you weren’t going to be his partner. Jisung was utterly hopeless when it came to tennis—or, rather, he was scared of anything flying in his direction.
Yizhuo grabbed her Prada leather tote bag, pulling out a white two-piece with a gold clip in the front after some digging. She excused herself to change quickly, and came back within five minutes. You were grateful she came prepared. For her, though, it was inevitable considering she drove thirty minutes most days to lounge around her country club with Chenle.
“They’re renovating the banquet room right now,” Yizhuo informed as she settled into the lounge chair next to yours. “I was going to invite you for the opening next week, but you’re gonna be in the Bahamas, as usual.”
“Yeah, about that,” you drawled, “vacation plans fell through, so I’m not going anymore.”
“What?” Yizhuo sat up, startling the server who brought over cocktails on a silver plate. “But you always go to the Bahamas!”
You gingerly took one of the cocktail glasses, mouthing your gratitude before turning your attention back to Yizhuo. “My parents wanna spend their honeymoon alone, and Heeseung thinks I’m acting spoiled.”
Yizhuo smirked against the rim of her glass. “How is it that Heeseung always manages to come up in our conversations?”
“He doesn’t!” you exclaimed. “He’s just always around, you know? Like a fruit fly.”
“Just like how Chenle’s always around?”
“Chenle’s your boyfriend; Heeseung’s just a gnat.”
“I’m telling you, Y/N, you and Heeseung are the dictionary definition of couple behavior. I swear, you two are meant for each other.”
You sighed. “Heeseung and I have been best friends since, like, forever. Our relationship is just… different from my other friendships.”
Yizhuo raised a brow, a coy smile still creeping across her face. “So how come you refer to everyone else as friendships, but with him it’s a relationship?”
“Psychoanalyze much?” You sent a mocking smile right back at her. “Can I not have a friend of the opposite gender anymore?”
“You can have one that doesn’t make heart eyes at you,” Yizhuo replied with a scoff. “I’m telling you, the guy’s head over heels.”
“Whatever.” You slipped your sunglasses down to rest on the bridge of your nose. You didn’t want to think about potential romantic feelings for your best friend that could threaten the stability of your life-long friendship. “Let’s circle back to what’s actually important: my summer.”
“Poor Heeseung.” Yizhuo tutted. “Bahamas over love.”
“Love can happen any time,” you said, “but the window of opportunity only opens once, and that golden period is the summer between high school and college. Think about it, Yizhuo! Every summer after this one is gonna be loaded with classes, internships, and work.”
“So, what’s your game plan?”
You pondered on her question. There were only so many options you had, and, clearly, going to the Bahamas was not one of them. Honestly, you hardly felt like a real Californian with the little knowledge you had about what you could even do around your area; all you could think about was the beach or Disneyland. Plus, with Yeji doing a summer program in Irvine and Yizhuo spending her days at her country club, you didn’t have much room for spontaneous activities with them.
Unless you wanted to spend every single day like you would on a regular weekend, you had to find someone who knew how to make things fun.
And, unfortunately, that narrowed it back down to Lee Heeseung.
You turned back to Yizhuo with a sheepish look on your face. “I think I have an idea.”
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“Be my summer escort service.”
“Excuse me?” Heeseung nearly choked on the tea your mother made for him. You watched as he set the cup down as delicately as possible while his eyes welled up with tears. He hit his fist against his chest a few times before calming down. “I don’t think you know what an escort service entails, but I think I know what you’re getting at.” He grinned slowly. “You’re taking me up on my offer.”
You did a lot of thinking on the car ride back to Bel Air.
A lot of thinking during the time when Sunghoon wasn’t complaining about the quality of the sushi place they went to. You were almost inspired to write a negative review yourself because of how passionate he was.
“Well, it’s inevitable that I’m gonna be seeing you almost every day, anyway,” you said, “so we might as well make the most of it, right?”
“I knew you’d turn around.” Heeseung reached over and ruffled your hair. “I’ll make sure you have the best summer of your life, Y/N.”
Lee Heeseung excelled at virtually anything. You were sure he would surpass your expectations with these impromptu summer plans, too.
You deemed the nickname “Golden Boy” upon him for this very reason, and it had everything to do with the fact that Heeseung was absolutely perfect at everything he did.
For a while, you even coined a theory that he had been created in a laboratory, specially designed to be absolutely flawless in every way imaginable. Of course Heeseung was born rich, smart, and handsome. Some people were just born lucky into the world, and, when you were younger, it was harder to accept that. Heeseung grew up with the world at his disposal; he got everything and anything he wanted, but that didn’t necessarily mean he took his privilege for granted.
You had to admit that Heeseung was a hard worker when it came down to it. Although he was definitely affluent as a fourth generation trust fund baby, Heeseung made sure his parents were never disappointed with his results.
Throughout high school, he consistently ranked first every single year, always coming right above you after the semester ended. Not to mention, he had even been scouted by several Division 1 schools to join their soccer team. He was even published at the mere age of sixteen for the research he did with a college professor. And, with a face and personality like his, any reasonable mother would’ve loved for their daughter to bring Heeseung home for dinner.
Another thing he never failed to accomplish was making you absolutely flustered.
“Well…” You turned your cheek. “I always have fun when I hang out with you, so don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late. It’s getting to my head.”
You groaned.
“Hey, we might as well have fun,” Heeseung tried. “It’s not like any of us are vicariously living through each other’s summer romances.”
“Whoa. You said ‘each other.’”
“Yeah?”
You shot him a questioning look. “You’re implying that you have a summer romance that I’m not allowed to live vicariously through.”
“What? No!” Heeseung frowned as he tried to do the mental gymnastics to piece together your reasoning. “I said—actually, you know what, it doesn’t matter what I said. Who cares about being cuffed? Let’s just enjoy the last moments of our youth.”
“You know what, you’re right,” you agreed, getting fired up just by his words. Maybe it was the realization that time was fleeting, but you were determined to have the best summer ever now. “This summer, I’m Percy and you’re Grover. No one’s getting in the way of our side quests.”
“Why do I have to be the half-barnyard animal sidekick?” Heeseung deadpanned. “Can’t I be Annabeth?”
“No, put some respect on a satyr’s title.”
Your best friend picked his cup of tea back up when it had cooled. He blew gently on the surface before taking a careful sip, and then confidently drank more afterward. He set his cup down again and held a finger up, signaling that he wanted a chance to speak again. You were half-expecting it to be about the damn Percy Jackson lore.
“Your parents leave soon, right?” he asked instead. You nodded in response, somewhat surprised about his inquiry, so Heeseung continued, “Do they need a ride to the airport? We could have a sleepover after.”
“I think—”
“We would love a ride to the airport, Heeseung,” your mother gushed from the staircase as she was lugging suitcases down, “but you’re going straight back to your house after taking my daughter home.”
Heeseung swallowed thickly. “O-of course, ma’am. Straight home.”
You pouted a little. “You’re not staying?”
He smirked a little at your reaction, and you were a little flustered and disappointed that you managed to inflate his ego even further.
“Nah, I’ll just—” Heeseung cut himself off quickly when he noticed your mother was suddenly towering behind where he was seated on your couch. “I’ll—I’ll go straight to my house, like I said.”
“Come on, let the kids spend some time together before college,” your stepfather chimed in, following suit with a suitcase of his own. “Y/N hardly ever gets to stay in LA for the summer.”
“We’re going to the same college, Dad,” you pointed out.
“Of course,” He walked over to ruffle your hair, and Heeseung stared up at him as if your stepfather was some respected higher power, “but you never know what could happen in college. People grow apart whether you like it or not, and the life of a college student gets busy, so you two might as well enjoy this summer.”
When all you could do was stare at your stepfather in horror, he added, “I’m not saying you’re gonna stop being friends! It’s just easier to spend time together now than it is in college.”
“That’s why I’m your daughter’s escort this summer,” Heeseung spoke up.
“Escort?” your stepfather pressed. “That’s… a little concerning. Keep it PG, you two.”
“It’s not like that!” you whined. “Anyway, Dad, don’t you have to get to the airport soon?”
He checked his watch quickly and nodded at your mother. “Y/N’s right. We should get going soon, honey. I’m gonna go make sure I didn’t forget to pack anything.”
With that, your stepfather jogged upstairs with Heeseung’s curious eyes following him suspiciously. When you nudged him, trying to figure out why he was mugging your dad for no reason, he grinned a little. He gestured for you to lean closer so that he could speak quietly.
You leaned in close so that your ear was by his lips, and Heeseung whispered, “He’s totally packing your mom’s honeymoon present.”
“How do you know?”
“Classic move. My brother did the same thing for his wife.”
You pulled away, covering your mouth with a shocked look on your face. You had to keep yourself from audibly gasping since your mother was only a room away. Your face broke into a little smile. Seeing someone care for your mother so deeply made you so happy, especially with how she was the one who usually put in the most effort in her past relationships.
All your life, you wanted a relationship that was the complete opposite of your mother’s; now, though, you aspired to find someone who loved you that much.
Speak of the devil. She was walking over as you and Heeseung exchanged mischievous grins.
“What’re you two smiling about?” she asked.
“Nothing!” You smiled and fixed her hair. “Have fun on your honeymoon, Mom. I’ll make sure Heeseung doesn’t get into trouble.”
“Hey!” Heeseung interjected. “I’m not even that bad! Honest-to-god, Jake’s worse than me—just ask Jay or Sunghoon. Actually, don’t ask Sunghoon because I think he has it out for me right now.” He paused before adding, “Now that I think about it, don’t ask Jay, either. Just trust me on this one.”
You scoffed. “Nice going, Hee.”
Your mother smiled, and you could tell that it was a little sad. “We’ll take you to the Bahamas next time, okay, Y/N?” She did a quick sweep of the room before leaning in a little and whispering, “By the way, your stepfather was really happy that you started calling him ‘dad’ the other day. I think he almost cried!”
You hated to admit it out loud, but you felt inexplicably happy at those words.
“I’m ready!” your stepfather called as he came down the stairs. “Do you have everything you need? Are we ready to go?”
“Ready as ever,” your mother answered and turned to your best friend. “Are you ready, Heeseung?”
“Yep.” He got up from the couch, spinning his car keys around his fingers. “Come on, Y/N. Time to say bye-bye to mommy and—ow! Don’t hit me!”
The car ride to the airport wasn’t too long, but you and Heeseung fell into an uncomfortable silence while your parents were gushing about their vacation plans to each other. They weren’t even sitting next to each other. Your mother sat next to you in the back seat and your stepfather sat in the passenger’s seat to accompany Heeseung, but they were still going back and forth. You nearly considered asking your stepfather to switch seats with you so that you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of their incessant flirting.
When Heeseung pulled up to the drop-off zone, however, your parents pulled themselves together in record time. You received two kisses on your head from each parent after they got out of the car.
“Heeseung, let’s walk together for a bit,” your stepfather called. When you exchanged a shocked look with your best friend, your dad clicked his tongue with a laugh. “Just until the gates over there. I need some help carrying my bags.”
Heeseung, floundering for words, wound up not saying anything and scrambled to get out of the car to help him out. The conversation seemed to be light and easygoing, but you were craning your neck out of the car window to get a glimpse of what the hell was going on.
“Mom,” you whispered harshly, “tell me Dad isn’t telling Heeseung something weird right now. He’s still traumatized from the time he was interrogated about being my Homecoming date last year.”
Since neither you nor Heeseung had actual dates for the Homecoming dance last year, he made you a poster and asked you to be his date at your doorstep. At the time, you two were binge watching Parks and Recreation together, so he used that as inspiration for your poster: Please don’t REC my plans and say KNOPE to Homecoming. You vividly recalled being impressed by how neat the handwriting was only to be told later that Yeji helped Heeseung make it.
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Your mother waved it off. “You should be more worried about how Mrs. Lee calls us in the middle of the night and asks where her son is. That’s gonna traumatize your friend.”
Wow. Lee Heeseung was already a pain in the ass to begin with, and only now you realized how his mother had it a thousand times harder.
“Have a safe trip, okay?” you told your mother after you helped her bring the rest of her bags to the gate. “And—don’t worry—I know when the gardener's coming by, so I’ll be home to let him in.”
She smiled fondly and kissed your forehead. “I’ll text you when I land,” she said. “Have fun, sweetheart, but not too much fun.”
“Mom!” you complained, cringing at whatever she was implying.
Heeseung and your stepfather were already at the front doors, and your best friend’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. You wondered if he needed saving from your father, and you confirmed this when you noticed him cower a little after shaking your stepfather’s hand.
“Heeseung,” your mother started, “thanks for bringing us here. I made brownies in the afternoon, so make sure Y/N gives you some before you go home.”
“Brownies?” Heeseung turned to you with a grin and thanked your mother profusely. “I hope you guys have a fun trip.”
After you all exchanged goodbyes, you and Heeseung headed back to his car. You were able to watch your mother and stepfather disappear into the crowd, a strange feeling lingering in your chest. You weren’t sure what it was, but you supposed you felt a little lonely. This was the first summer you were spending without your parents, and you weren’t sure what to expect.
As if Heeseung could read your mind, he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a fun summer.”
“It better be the best summer of my life.”
Heeseung laughed and opened the passenger’s side door for you. “Then let’s start now.”
“Huh? Right now?”
“Let’s get bingsu,” he said. Come to think of it, you were craving shaved ice; you had mentioned it to Heeseung last week. “You said you were hungry, right? And then we can go home and dig into those brownies your mom made.”
“I never said anything about being hungry.”
“But you’re hungry, right?”
The corner of your mouth twitched before breaking into a little smile.
“Alright, let’s go.”
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In all honesty, you didn’t expect anything special from Heeseung. That was why you had your own plans laid out for the coming week, and first on your agenda was going shopping with Yizhuo in Beverly Hills. Since your best friend was so adamant on spending the summer with you, though, you let him tag along.
“I hate you,” he muttered through gritted teeth as you handed him yet another shopping bag—Armani, this time. Heeseung was carrying at least six of them, letting them dangle off of his arms. “I said I’d show you how to have fun, not be your butler.”
“You said you would be my summer escort service.”
“Not like this!”
“Y/N, I swear,” Yizhuo started in a low voice, only loud enough to hear (although you wished you didn’t), “he’s like your boyfriend.”
You sped up to walk ahead of Heeseung, and Yizhuo matched your pace. Your poor best friend was lagging in the back, trying to keep up with the weight of your spending spree in his hands. Even though you told him virtually everything, this was a conversation that you couldn’t let him hear.
“He’s just my escort this summer!” you defended.
“His dad’s the senior vice president at Apple. You really think Lee Heeseung would just agree to be anyone’s manservant?”
“Well, I’m not anyone; I’m Y/N, and Heeseung and I have been best friends since forever, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he wants to spend time with me.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a little strange.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You waved off her concerns and pulled out your phone. “By the way, is the group hanging out tomorrow or something?”
“I kept seeing it in the groupchat, but I wasn’t sure whose house it was at,” Yizhuo replied. She turned and called, “Heeseung! Do you know whose house we’re all going to?”
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Mine.”
“Yours?” you chimed in. “I thought Jake said it would be at his place.”
“He backed out ‘cause his cousins are visiting this week,” he clarified, “so I offered mine. My parents are going out of town, anyway, so why not?”
You were surprised that Heeseung was willing to host. Most of the time his house was the absolute last resort because he hated cleaning up after everyone. For this reason, it was normally at Jake’s house because he was the only one who would tidy up himself without nagging everyone else (read: Jay Park).
You always went to Heeseung’s place on your own. There were never times where the entire group hung out there together, so it felt like everyone was encroaching on your space with Heeseung.
Even though it was his house, technically.
“You’re coming,” Heeseung added, pointing straight at you with narrowed eyes.
You frowned. “You can’t decide that for me!”
“You agreed to let me be your summer escort service, so it’s within my power,” he argued.
You made a frustrated sound. “Fine. It better be fun, though. I’m sacrificing my Pretty Little Liars marathon for you.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes. “We can just watch it together.”
“Lovebirds!” Yizhuo interjected. “I would’ve called Chenle if I knew I was gonna be a third wheel.” Both of you turned to her with wide eyes, watching the blonde’s lips curl up in a small smirk. “What?”
“That’s not what any of this is,” your best friend grumbled.
“Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”
Heeseung shook his head, completely turning his face away from you. You managed to catch the tips of his ears flaming bright red. It was rather easy to make Heeseung flustered, so this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but, for some reason, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach.
He walked ahead, saying something along the lines of, “Let’s just keep shopping!”
You and Yizhuo exchanged a look before hooking arms and bursting into a fit of giggles.
Yizhuo called after him, “We’re going to Miu Miu next!”
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Slumber parties with your friend group sounded cute and tame, in theory. Add six men into the mix, and they became slightly terrifying.
“This is why we need to make plans in our group chat without the men,” Shen Xiaoting muttered to you with her eyes fixed on Heeseung’s flat screen TV. “This is not the girls night I was envisioning.”
Your friend group of eleven (excluding Yeji, who was away for the summer) was currently playing their ninth round of Mario Kart 8. You were all taking turns, though, since the game only catered to co-oping with four people. Frankly, you were starting to get tired of the game after about five rounds. You were hellbent on beating Jay, who was talking smack about how terrible you were at gaming, but it turned out that he was no better. You ended up beating him in the first race itself, and now you were just waiting for them to wrap it up.
“Fuck,” Jake hissed once Choi Beomgyu used his blue shell on him. Jake had been consistently winning every game he played despite everyone trying to get him in last place; in the last round, Kim Minjeong made a valiant effort to use most of her Crazy 8 items on him.
You were surprised that Jake showed up in the first place. Everyone suspected that he would be stuck at home because of his cousins visiting, but he somehow managed to get his way out of it. Although he was late, he showed up at Heeseung’s door with a pillow and a handle of cheap vodka. It probably tasted rancid, but there was no room for anyone to complain.
“Get the item box, get the item box!” Chenle yelled. “But you’re kind of screwed if you don’t get a super horn or a super star.”
“So, when are we wrapping up Mario Kart?” Nakamura Kazuha asked, sighing in frustration after being hit with a shell for the umpteeth time.
“Uh, after this game,” Heeseung replied.
“And how many more rounds is that?”
“Three.”
“Jesus Christ.”
The only girl in your group who enjoyed gaming was Yizhuo, but even she was tired of the seemingly endless rounds. Since the boys were going along with the girls’ plans later on, though, you had to be patient. Appease them with Mario Kart, and then the rest of the night was yours.
Somehow, you managed to grit your teeth and sit through the next three rounds (won by Jake, Yizhuo, and Beomgyu, respectively). Afterward, Jake got up to grab the case of Mike’s Harder on the kitchen island. He proceeded to open it up and hand each person a can.
Xiaoting cracked open her can and asked, “How’d you even buy these? Didn’t your dad confiscate your fake or something?”
Around a few months ago, Jake’s dad had caught him wasted at one of their charity galas. Apparently, the Sims didn’t care too much about their son drinking, but they were furious about Jake acting disorderly in front of their guests. Naturally, Jake was grounded for a month and got all four of his fake IDs confiscated. He deeply missed the one from Connecticut where his name was printed as Nathan Fielder, even though Jake looked nothing like Nathan Fielder.
“I got Vernon to buy them for me,” Jake said, “and please don’t remind me about the fakes. It still wounds me to this day.”
You remembered you used to have a little crush on Vernon Chwe, who was a senior when you were a freshman. When he graduated, you almost cried actual tears, but you stayed strong when you went to congratulate him after the ceremony. You figured he would have been a little freaked out if you started breaking down out of nowhere.
Jay, who was inspecting the handle of SKYY Vodka, let out a scoff. “Vernon? Then you could’ve at least asked for good vodka.”
“We can just make mixed drinks,” you spoke up, scrunching up your nose at the memory of blacking out because of alcohol during your prom afterparties. “Plus, it’s not like we’re actually trying to get drunk tonight.”
“Yeah.” Heeseung stood up and rested his arm on your shoulder. “Y/N and I can make the drinks. The rest of you can help put snacks out. Someone can put a movie on, too.”
Since everyone was impressed with Heeseung taking the lead for once, the plan was set into motion. While Kazuha and Sunghoon bickered over which movie to play, the rest of your friends brought out different snacks for the movie. Arguably, you and Heeseung had the hardest job, but you didn’t need any extra hands for drinks. By the time it took you two to finish eleven mixed drinks, they probably would have settled on a movie.
You looked back to see Heeseung eyeballing a shot into a glass cup, and then he proceeded to down its contents. You cringed when you saw him drinking. The last time he got drunk resulted in you trying to calm him down after he went on a long rant about how he just ate sushi, and the alcohol in his system would cause the raw fish to start swimming. You had to convince him that no, vodka would not bring an already dead and sliced-up fish to life.
Heeseung’s face soured and he pushed the handle aside. “Y’know what, let’s just take something from my parents’ liquor cabinet. This shit is vile.”
“You got triple sec and decent vodka?” you asked. “We could make Lemon Drops.”
“You read my mind.”
“You weren’t even thinking about that, were you?”
“Not at all.”
While you and Heeseung were making the drinks, though, you noticed some giggles coming from the living room. You raised your head to see about five of your friends look away as fast as they could. It hit you before you had time to process what was going on; they were making fun of you and Heeseung together.
You had no clue why. Sure, Heeseung and you had some strange moments here and there. But you two were just making drinks, for crying out loud. Nothing about the situation warranted this reaction from them.
You side-eyed Heeseung to see if he noticed. Thankfully, he was just focused on pouring the right amount of vodka so he didn’t accidentally kill anyone. You, on the other hand, were fighting down the heat rising in your chest.
After a brief war between you and Yizhuo, consisting of you glaring at her and her smirking at you, you ended up setting down a glass and sighing.
“Heeseung,” you said, “go crazy with the vodka in the rest of their drinks.”
“Huh?” he asked, genuinely contemplating whether or not to do it.
“Pour as much as your heart desires,” you muttered and set down six of the Lemon Drops on a tray with a little too much force. Without sparing him a glance, you picked up the tray and went to the living room to hand everyone their glasses. While you handed Yizhuo hers, though, you whispered, “I despise you.”
She grinned. “What? Still denying you like him?”
“I don’t like—”
“You like someone?” Heeseung called from the island, completely frozen in place.
You turned and stared at him, mouth agape.
Chenle spoke up, “No, she likes y—”
You kicked Chenle’s shin with enough force to shut him up, and he grunted before he could continue his sentence. Satisfied, you turned back to Heeseung and shook your head quickly.
“They’re just being idiots,” you explained. “Hurry up with the drinks. We’re watching My Best Friend’s Wedding.” You did a double take and turned back to Yizhuo, harshly whispering, “Why the fuck are we watching My Best Friend’s Wedding?!”
Yizhuo removed Chenle’s hand from her knee and stood up to loop your arm with hers. “Come.”
“Where are we going?” you asked, but she was already dragging you away from the living room. “Is that movie supposed to be some sort of sick message?”
“Oh, good. So you’re aware.”
After making some excuse about needing your assistance to get something from her bag, Yizhuo walked with you to the foyer until she turned on you. You nearly tripped backward over one of the boys’ shoes, so you used the wall to regain your balance.
“Tell me what’s going on between you two,” she ordered.
You let out a sound of exasperation. “Yizhuo, for the last time, Heeseung and I are just friends. That’s all there is to it.”
“I’m just saying, the two of you are going to college together and all, but you have to sort out your feelings before you end up figuring them out after Heeseung finds someone else,” she said. “I mean, what’re you gonna do when Heeseung starts dating someone else? He looks decent enough to pull, so there’s no telling what’s gonna happen when he’s cut loose in Yale.”
You snorted. “He’s already cut loose. I highly doubt Yale’s gonna change anything.”
“You never know. I just don’t want you to realize your feelings too late—you know, when things get messy.”
You both were silent for a few seconds before Beomgyu called, “Y/N, Yizhuo, we’re gonna start the movie!”
“Coming!” you responded.
You chose not to respond to your best friend because you truly had no idea what to think, but it did leave seeds of doubt in your head. It almost distracted you from the fact that Heeseung grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit down next to him. This was bad; you were quickly becoming overly self-conscious of every little thing he did, and that would not bode well for your friendship.
Whatever, you told yourself. Push it down.
“Are there any more pillows?” you asked, scanning the room to see that everyone seemed to have one except you. You looked back at Heeseung and narrowed your eyes at his throw pillow. “Give me yours.”
“What? No way.”
“I wanna lay down,” you whined. He was really the only person you could act a little spoiled around. “Give me your pillow before I—”
Before you could finish, Heeseung threw his arm around you and pushed your head down so that you were laying on his lap. You were startled with the sudden gesture, but you didn’t complain. He was comfortable, after all, and you two usually watched movies like this in your house. So, you adjusted your position a little and continued watching the movie, making a mental note to scold Heeseung later for being all touchy in front of the friend group.
What you weren’t used to, though, was the way he started threaded his fingers through your hair.
You did the only thing you knew how to do in order to deflect; you showed Heeseung a TikTok of a baby otter. Your volume was all the way down, but you still bookmarked the video.
“Look,” you whispered, holding up your phone. His gentle fingers did not stop running through your hair, but at least you could hold onto his friendly hum of acknowledgement. It was the only thing that made any of this feel remotely platonic. “It’s a little guy.”
“Oh, it’s so cute,” Heeseung mused. “Kind of reminds me of you.”
Screw platonic.
He just grabbed platonic and drop kicked it to the next dimension.
That was it. You were going to put your phone away and ignore Heeseung for the rest of the movie. The rest of the movie would be watched in complete silence. In fact, you weren’t going to spare Heeseung any attention for the rest of the sleepover.
That didn’t end up happening, though. Ten minutes later, you cracked and started commenting about the movie to Heeseung. Unbeknownst to the others, you two ended up texting each other messages that threatened to make you burst into laughter. Even though you were sitting right next to each other, you felt like this made your conversation feel like a little secret, like even Heeseung wanted to keep what you two had to himself.
When the movie ended, you two were surprisingly still awake, although there were several moments where you were tempted to doze off on Heeseung’s shoulder. Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Jay were still up, and they were taking pictures of Chenle and Yizhuo to send to the group chat. You immediately separated from Heeseung, feeling a little terrified that you two would be the victims next. However, the others were so preoccupied with Chenle’s arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend and their foreheads pressed together.
“Should we wake them up?” Kazuha asked.
“Nah, let them sleep,” Heeseung answered and stood up. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. You guys can use the other bathrooms—just not the one in my parents’ room.”
Minjeong stretched as she let out a yawn. “Alright, I’m gonna wash up, then. I’m exhausted.”
After Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Kazuha left the room to get their bags and wash up, you stared at Heeseung. Your best friend looked confused until you pointed toward his glass.
“Chug it,” you said with mischief dancing in your eyes.
“You’re kidding. It’s bedtime.”
You mocked a pout. “You’re gonna waste the drink I made just for you?”
“Oh, come on—we made it for everyone!”
“But I definitely made this one.” You took the glass and held it out to him, which he ended up taking reluctantly. “I wanna see you finish it.”
After a wince, Heeseung tilted the cup back and downed the contents. Although his face scrunched up, he relaxed once he had finished swallowing it down.
“That was actually pretty good,” he said.
“See? When have I ever let you down?”
“Honestly? Many times.”
You elbowed him in the side. “Hey!”
“Kidding!” Heeseung held his arms up in surrender before wrapping them around your waist. Another gesture you weren’t quite used to, but you went along with it. There was something funny about Heeseung; nothing he did ever made you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, but sometimes you weren’t sure if it was meant to be friendly. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”
“I can just use the bathroom on the second floor.”
“Huh? Just use the one in my room,” he said. “Come on.”
You hesitated before following your best friend upstairs. First of all, you were feeling overly-conscious about going into Heeseung’s room with him. Secondly, you weren’t too enthusiastic about the fact that you had to use a man’s bathroom.
To Heeseung’s credit, he kept his room and bathroom mostly spotless. Sure, there were a few sweaters piled over the head of his chair and some books left scattered across his desk, but it was definitely cleaner than Jake’s mess of a room. You remembered Yeji stepping across his piles of dirty clothes left on the floor, as if they were hazardous to her health.
As soon as you stepped into the grand bathroom, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It wasn’t the first time this happened, so you knew to just take one of the unopened toothbrushes from the drawer. However, Heeseung told you they moved some things around, so you wound up searching for the spare toothbrushes for around five minutes.
It was almost ridiculous how Heeseung needed a bathroom bigger than a living room.
You two brushed your teeth side-by-side. Heeseung occasionally cracked jokes that made you giggle and tilt your head back so that your toothpaste wouldn’t dribble down your chin. When that happened, he reached over and wiped your lower lip with his thumb, despite your complaints about how gross that was.
But, to you, it wasn’t really all that gross.
If only Heeseung knew how his actions made your cheeks burn hot under your skin.
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The next week was interesting, to say the least.
Heeseung wouldn’t let you rest for a second. You were going out with him every single day, having to see his face from sunrise to sunset. Even when it was nightfall, he would just invite himself over to your place and crash on your couch.
You pointed out that you had a perfectly tidy guest room for him to use, but he insisted that he preferred your couch. You didn’t mind him sprawled out across the cushions because you could take as many pictures of him sleeping as you pleased. You would show him your collection later when he woke up, and Heeseung would get embarrassed to the point of tickling you until you were in hysterics and gasping out that you would delete the pictures from your camera roll.
At this point, it was almost like you two were living together. Even though his parents were out of town, you felt slightly anxious about one of the adults in your parents’ circle discovering what you and Heeseung were up to. Not that it was anything scandalous.
But, you had to admit, you were having fun.
On Monday, Heeseung took you to the beach. You complained incessantly about waking up at six in the morning for cold water and sand all over your clothes, but you managed to drag yourself out of bed. Still, Heeseung had to put up with your grumbles and groans until you were energized enough to stop complaining. All it took was Heeseung feeding you a granola bar and making you coffee while you did your hair.
“C’mon,” he told you, the wind sweeping his hair to the side as the first rays of sunlight shone bright against his glowing skin, “this is exactly like the Bahamas if you close your eyes.”
“Uh-huh.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but you spent the entire day at the beach with Heeseung, anyway. You finally warmed up to going into the water with him, letting him take your hands and guide you deeper until the water was up to your waist. At one point, a particularly heavy wave pushed him closer to you until you both were chest-to-chest. You had to hold onto his bicep to keep yourself from floating away. And you swore you caught Heeseung checking you out in your bikini later on, but he turned away with pink-tinged ears immediately after.
Later, when the sun was starting to set and you retreated from the water to curl up in your towel, you sat on your large beach towel and waited for Heeseung to bring over food from the food trucks. The tide was getting higher, so you had to move yours and Heeseung’s belongings further up the sand.
Heeseung returned with two takeout boxes of tacos, taking a seat next to you with a relieved sigh. Since you two hadn’t eaten a proper lunch, you had been waiting for this meal all day. You were properly tuckered out from all the swimming and beach volleyball, so you dug in immediately.
“Good?” Heeseung asked, watching you eat with a small smile on his face. He must have been impressed that you practically inhaled your first taco in under five seconds.
“Good,” you confirmed, voice muffled.
With the back of your hand shielding your eyes, you looked off into the horizon to watch the sunlight ripple across the water’s surface.
And, yeah, maybe it was a little like the Bahamas.
Just a little.
You didn’t expect Heeseung to wake you up on Tuesday morning and drag you to an empty field. Although he told you that he had a surprise for you, you didn’t think it warranted being woken up at 5:30 a.m. without a clue of where you were going.
“Alright, close your eyes, okay? It’s a surprise,” Heeseung said, gesturing for you to cover your gaze. You found it adorable that he was fumbling so much, so you closed your eyes with a grin. “Keep them closed—hold on.”
“Heeseung, how much longer?” you whined.
“And,” he drawled, stretching out the syllable, “open!”
When you opened your eyes, towering over you was a 60-foot tall hot air balloon, its brightly-patterned nylon reflecting the bright sunlight. You boggled at its impressive size—absolutely massive. The pilot got down from the basket, walking over so that he could greet you two and provide a rundown of safety measures and procedures.
An hour later, you were in the sky, eyes sweeping over the expanse of Los Angeles. You were never that great with heights, but, somehow, you weren’t too afraid as you peered down. Heeseung stood beside you, keeping one hand on the small of your back as he pointed out different landmarks he recognized.
“I’ve never seen LA like this!” you yelled over the wind, cupping your hand around your mouth so that Heeseung could hear you.
He grinned. “Isn’t it beautiful? Makes the city actually feel peaceful for once.”
You wouldn’t dare admit it but, all the way up in the sky, thousands of feet above ground level, what made you feel like you were soaring was Heeseung’s arm slipping around your waist.
On Wednesday, Heeseung took you fishing. You absolutely hated the idea, but once you had the fishing rod in your hands, you were determined to catch the biggest fish. Heeseung ended up catching more than you, but the two fish you caught were stars in your eyes. By the end of the day, you were laughing hysterically as Heeseung’s hat got stuck in your hook and was flung into the water.
On Thursday, Heeseung took you to play mini-golf. You had gone golfing before with company executives and their kids, but this was different. You didn’t have to show off or try to be the best one there; you just had fun and laughed whenever your best friend missed the ball. You two ended the day by going to an arcade and playing almost every game inside.
By Friday morning, you were exhausted. Your limbs were aching when you woke up the next morning, but Heeseung promised to actually let you rest over the weekend. Tonight was Yizhuo’s country club’s party to celebrate the opening of their new banquet hall, so Heeseung only planned one thing for the morning so that you would have time to get ready for the party later.
Pushing your red Jacquemus sunglasses onto your head, you fixed your best friend with a puzzled stare. He was acting weird all morning, from nearly snapping at you for trying to open the trunk of his car, to staying silent when you asked where he was taking you.
For a moment, you wondered if this was the climax of a horror movie where the killer drove you to a quiet place to get rid of you. Your suspicion raised more when Heeseung parked by a marina with a hiking trail nearby.
This is where your body’s being dumped, you concluded grimly.
But, then again, this was Lee Heeseung. He cried when he was eleven because there was a spider on his backpack; he didn’t have the heart to hurt anyone, especially not you. In fact, you recalled when he nearly passed out in middle school because he thought he caused you extreme pain once. (It turned out to be your period cramps.)
“Are you gonna tell me where you’re taking me?” you asked, exasperated. “If we’re swimming, I’m gonna tell you right now that there’s no way I’m getting my hair wet before the party.”
Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, princess. We’re just going for a spin on the lake.” He nodded his head in the direction of the yachts lined up by the shoreline. “Jog your memory?”
When your gaze landed on the gorgeous white yacht gleaming under the sun, you couldn’t help but gasp at its glorious sight. Heeseung had gotten the yacht for his birthday last year, but he never had the time to actually use it. One reason was because he didn’t trust his friends to not trash it, and the other being that he wanted his first ride on it to be special.
Your face burned. His first ride was going to be with you.
“Shut up.” You were gaping at the sight before turning to your best friend, who looked smug while he parked his car. “Shut up. You’re actually letting me go on your yacht?”
“Yeah, why not?” He tried to brush it off as something casual, but your heart was still doing cartwheels and flips. “It’s about time I went out on it.”
You two walked down to the harbor together, your hands sometimes shyly brushing and pulling away swiftly. There had been moments of thick, unspoken tension throughout the week, but you didn’t have the courage to bring it up.
Once you two reached Heeseung’s yacht, he firmly slapped his hand against the smooth, brilliant white surface. “Carver c52 Command Bridge,” he gloated. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
You snorted. “You talk about boats the same way old white men do.”
You allowed him to help you into the yacht, gripping his hand tight as you stepped onto the deck. You hadn’t questioned it before, but as soon as Heeseung let go of you, he set down the picnic basket so that he could spread out the blanket.
You helped him with the corners of the blanket. “What’s this?”
“Well, I thought we could sail out a little and then have breakfast on the deck,” he replied coolly, as if the sincerity of his words wouldn’t make your heart twist painfully in your chest. You really didn’t deserve such effort from him, and it almost made you feel guilty that you had acted so spoiled before. “I’ll go start the engine. You can just enjoy the view.”
However, you followed him to the cockpit. Heeseung raised a brow at you, but you giggled as you took a seat behind him, watching as he stood at the helm, fiddling with some controls you knew nothing about.
“You actually know how to operate this thing?” you asked.
“My dad taught me,” he explained. “I’m not licensed, though, so I don’t think this is exactly legal.”
“Not like that’s stopped you before.”
Heeseung grinned to himself. He started up the yacht’s engine by pressing a button on the dashboard. You watched his hands fly across the levers and controls before he started turning the wheel to steer out of the marina.
“You wanna head out to the deck?” he called out over his shoulder, but you just took the empty seat next to him. “Don’t you wanna sunbathe? Or you could check out the stateroom.”
“Nope,” you said, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you watched him. “I’d rather wait for you.”
Sometimes, you’d almost catch Heeseung getting flustered. He’d always laugh and rub his nose, looking away shyly before anyone caught onto his awkwardness. The same reaction was unfolding before you right now, and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot yourself.
You wondered if he ever felt butterflies in his stomach, too.
Once Heeseung had driven the yacht out far enough—far out enough in the water where the water was still and no one was there to disturb you two. You both headed out to the deck again. He took a seat to lay out what he packed in his picnic basket, and you removed your sundress so that you could tan a little in your bikini.
“Champagne?” he offered, holding up a bottle of Dom Pérignon that he most definitely stole from his family’s wine cellar.
You pulled out the two wine glasses in the basket and held them out for Heeseung to pour your drinks, smiling wide as he tipped the bottle. “Yes, please.”
“See, you wouldn’t be able to experience this if you were in the Bahamas right now.” He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. “We didn’t get to hang out like this any of the past summers.”
“As if we don’t hang out almost every day.”
“But this is different!” he argued. “It’s summer. It’s not like we’re making impromptu plans to New York and flying back home a day later to study for an exam. We have all the time in the world right now.”
He was right, in a sense. You and Heeseung were always together, but you two never really got to spend long days together like this. You two got to make plans without involving anyone else in the friend group for once, and it was a lot more fun than you had expected.
“Do you think we’d be this close if we weren’t rich?” you asked after a while. Heeseung raised a brow at your question, so you clarified, “I’m serious! We wouldn’t be able to do stuff like this—flying in hot air balloons, driving yachts, going to country club parties—if we didn’t have rich parents.”
Heeseung crossed his arms behind his head and pondered, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression. He hummed before answering, “I’d like to think that we’d make it work the same way everyone else does.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“What if… you were rich and I wasn’t? Or vice-versa?”
“Yeah, I mean…” he trailed off for a moment, eyes cast down as if he was trying to find the words on his tongue. Then, he continued, “I think I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if all we could do together was sit at home and watch TV.”
Whatever response you had prepared at the back of your throat had died on your tongue. All you could do was look at him helplessly, wondering why his words were making your heart beat faster than when you were thousands of feet up in the sky days ago. You wondered why such gentle words from your best friend had roused a violent storm in your heart.
The wind picked up, sending your hair flying every which way. Heeseung reached out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering on your cheek as he pulled back. You went completely still, chest frozen mid-breath as he pulled away.
“You had something in your hair,” he mumbled, quickly scrambling to offer you a caprese skewer. If you looked closely enough, you would’ve noticed that his ears were bright red. “Eat quickly before the food gets stale.”
“I don’t think food normally goes stale that fast.”
“Shut up.”
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There was one thing about formal gatherings that all trust fund babies could agree on: only get drunk behind your parents’ backs.
They definitely knew what was going on, but they paid no attention as long as their children were staying safe and not embarrassing themselves. When you were much younger, you would always catch sight of the older kids sneaking away to get drunk in the bathroom, but you never understood the excitement they felt until you became a freshman in high schooler, being dragged away by Yeji to drink with the older kids.
Back then, you were doe-eyed and curious as Vernon would pour shots for you in moderation. Now, you were nearly gagging when Yizhuo handed you a shooter of Pink Whitney.
You two had locked yourselves in the bathroom with Xiaoting, Kazuha, and Minjeong as Yizhuo pulled out various shooters from her purse. It was fine for you to drink wine with the other adults, but you were all certain that the adults would frown upon you drinking hard liquor in front of the other guests. So, the five of you snuck away to get drunk secretly.
For the past fifteen minutes, as you all were downing shooter after shooter, the girls had been pressing you about something going on between you and Heeseung. After he posted you on his Instagram story, showing off his boat in the process, you were bombarded with texts that you were only able to ignore until you got to the party.
A loud knock at the door nearly scared you out of your wits, causing Minjeong to bark out a laugh at the sight of you flinching.
“Occupied!” you yelled, although the syllables slurred together strangely.
“It’s us!” came Jake’s voice. “We’re going drunk golfing.”
You frowned and stepped aside to let Yizhuo open the door for Jake. He scanned his surroundings nervously before shoving his fists into his pockets and stepping into the girls’ bathroom.
“Jake,” Xiaoting started. Although her face and neck were completely red, she focused her eyes on him to keep a serious tone. “We need you to tell us if Heeseung’s into Y/N or not.”
“Xiaoting!” you complained.
“You know what, I’d like to know, too,” Jake replied with shocking enthusiasm. He leaned against the crystal sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Screw drunk golf; this is way more fun. Y/N, do you have feelings for Heeseung? ‘Cause everyone wants to know if—”
“Jake, we didn’t bring you in here for girl talk,” Minjeong cut him off with a wave of her hand. “We brought you in here for answers.”
He let out a childish whine. “But I wanna be here for girl talk.”
“Wait, but answer his question.” Yizhuo turned to you with a wide grin on her face, handing you yet another shooter—probably to make you more honest. You seriously wished you could call Chenle over to put a leash on your friend. “Do you have feelings for Heeseung?”
Did you? You had never been so confused about where you and Heeseung stood until this week. You two had always been close—always did everything together—so why were you feeling conscious about everything now?
But, despite all of your confusion, the one thing that was clear to you was that you felt something for Lee Heeseung with every beat of your heart.
Everything he did, everything he said—you weren’t sure what it was that had you so intoxicated on his attention, but you knew you would’ve felt sick to your stomach if he did the things he did with you with any other girl.
You felt it whenever you saw him lounging around your house, digging into the brownies your mother made as if he lived there. You felt it whenever someone told a joke and the two of you made eye contact with each other first, hoping to see if the other person found it funny, too. You felt it whenever he touched your hand and called you princess, unaware that your heart was fluttering pathetically in your chest.
His smile, his laugh, his happiness—you wanted to be the cause of it all.
You caved with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, I think I might actually have feelings for him.”
A collective cheer erupted in the bathroom, the sound echoing for a few seconds after. Jake stood up just to high-five Yizhuo so hard that the impact left their palms stinging, and then Yizhuo proceeded to scold Jake for putting his full force into the high-five. You pinched the bridge of your nose with embarrassment flooding your chest.
Jake decided to abandon the boys’ plans to go drunk golfing and spent the next ten minutes discussing strategies to get you and Heeseung alone. He had integrated himself into your circle so well that he almost seemed like one of the girls. You slowly backed up into one of the stalls during their conversation, starting to feel horribly nauseous and lightheaded. You were pretty sure that Yizhuo handing you shooter after shooter was starting to have adverse effects on your body.
“How about we tell him that Y/N’s puking in the bathroom and he needs to—” Minjeong cut herself off as soon as she heard you retching by the toilet. “Oh, wow, she’s actually puking in the bathroom.” She turned to Jake after opening the door for him. “Go get Heeseung.”
“If you let me join girl talk next time,” Jake bargained.
“Are you seriously negotiating with me in this situation?”
“Yes.”
Minjeong groaned. “Okay, fine, Jake, we’ll invite you the next time we have girl talk. Now go fetch Heeseung.”
“On it!” he agreed quickly. “Don’t die, Y/N.”
“I’ll try not to” you croaked out weakly, your head hanging between your knees as you willed yourself to not barf out your guts.
“Are you okay?” Kazuha pouted as she rubbed your back in soothing circles. “This is all because you kept making her drink, Yizhuo.”
“I didn’t make her,” she retorted. “Y/N, do you need water or anything? I can ask someone in the kitchen for liquid IV, too.”
You shook your head. “No, just bring Heeseung here.”
They shared a secretive giggle, but you didn’t care. You felt way too sick to mind the girls teasing you. You even tried to distract yourself on your phone, but the bright screen just made you feel worse. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wall, groaning miserably.
It had really gotten to the point where you didn’t care that you were sitting on the country club’s public bathroom floor. It was all fancy and sanitary, of course, but you would normally feel icky about this sort of scenario playing out.
You weren’t sure how long it had been, but eventually, you heard the door opening and the rest of the girls rushed to make sure it wasn’t someone outside the group. You heard them ushering Heeseung inside, explaining what had happened to you before they left the bathroom.
Heeseung knocked on your stall as a formality but let himself inside, anyway. The crooked grin on his face upon seeing you only made you turn your head away and sigh in exasperation.
You turned your head back to face him when you heard his shutter go off.
A scowl was plastered across your face. “Did you just take a picture of me?”
Heeseung snickered. “Yeah, I’m posting it on my story. Right after the one of you looking all pretty on my boat.”
“You’re supposed to be here to help me.”
“That’s why I brought soda,” he replied, holding up an entire bottle of Sprite. You were confident he snagged it from the kitchen, which you were pretty sure would result in Yizhuo scolding him for treating the country club like his house. “Anyway, why’d you drink so much? Just because I’m driving you home doesn’t mean you’re allowed to give yourself alcohol poisoning.”
You settled back into your previous position with your head between your knees. This way, Heeseung wouldn’t be able to see how stupid in love you were. There was absolutely no way you could tell him that you were mindlessly drinking while you were spilling your feelings for him.
“Where’d the girls go?” you asked instead.
“I told them to go drunk golfing while I took care of you.”
“Don’t you wanna go play, too?”
Heeseung shrugged. He took a seat on the floor next to you, not minding the indecency even though he was sober. You felt like your heart was going to explode if he kept doting on you like this.
“I can always go play another time,” he said. “Plus, I’d have more fun if you were there.”
You both went quiet for a moment. The weight of Heeseung’s words only made your heart feel heavier, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could go pretending that you only cared for him as a friend.
Then, your stomach started churning and twisting with the need to puke out your guts again, and the silence was filled with your retching. Heeseung rubbed your back sympathetically and held your hair back while you hunched over the toilet seat again.
This was definitely going down as one of your most unflattering moments.
“Want some soda?” Heeseung tried.
You shook your head.
“Drink some water, then—here,” he said, handing you a red solo cup that was filled to the brim. “I stole it from Hoon.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your head to accept the cup from him. When you took a sip, though, you just ended up hawking and spitting out the contents into the toilet.
Trying your best not to gag, you got out, “Not water—vodka.”
“Oh, my bad.” Heeseung frowned, inspecting the cup. “Why’d Hoon pour this much? No wonder he drove the golf cart into the lake.”
After throwing up basically everything in your stomach, you started to feel dizzy all over again, stumbling and wobbling all over the bathroom until Heeseung had to hold you upright. He had already gotten Yizhuo’s approval to drive you home for the night, but there was no way you were making it to his Tesla in your heels. Heeseung had you hang tight while he ran to his car to get your Dolce & Gabbana rubber slides, knowing there was no possible way for him to carry you out to the car without the adults getting suspicious.
You felt much more comfortable in your slides, so you walked out hand-in-hand with Heeseung while he held onto your heels. Although you felt bad about leaving Yizhuo’s grand opening party early, you figured that it would be more shameful for her parents to see you in this state.
You had greatly underestimated the power of alcohol.
After you had walked up to about three different cars that weren’t Heeseung’s (including Jay’s Mercedes Benz, which started going off once you pulled on the handle), he had finally grabbed you by the shoulders and manually directed you to his Tesla. You giggled as you got into the passenger’s seat, allowing him to buckle you in and watch over you as he called Jay to turn his car alarm off.
Heeseung shot you a glance as he drove out of the country club’s gated entrance. “You’re going straight to bed when we get home.”
“Don’t wanna.”
He surprisingly gave up fast on trying to convince you. “What do you wanna do, then?”
“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Anything. Wanna bake cookies? Or watch a show?”
“Down for a show. Don’t know if I trust you around kitchen appliances right now,” he answered. After letting out a giggle, you caught Heeseung’s smile illuminated by the moonlight. “See? Aren’t you having more fun than you would’ve had in the Bahamas?”
“I wouldn’t ask this question after I nearly got alcohol poisoning.”
“The important thing is that you didn’t.”
You snorted, but something fond unraveled in your chest. You rolled the window down and looked outside, watching the bright lights of the city twinkle and shine under the inky black sky. You remembered all the skies you watched with Heeseung this week—the hazy gray in the morning, the bright blues of the afternoon, and the faint peony glow at sunset. And, yeah, you would’ve given up the Bahamas any day for this.
“Yeah,” you answered him, though you weren’t quite sure if he could hear you over the wind, “I’m having a lot of fun, Hee.”
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Two weeks flew by far too quickly.
You were dumbfounded when you realized your parents were coming back the next day. You had spent two entire weeks solely with Heeseung, and you were having so much fun that you totally lost track of time. You were so caught up in your adventures that it had completely slipped your mind that summer would eventually come to an end.
Heeseung suggested that you two spent your last night doing something special. You had no idea what that meant, but you went along with whatever he had planned.
Apparently, he had been wanting to take you to see the stars, but you didn’t realize that he meant the observatory until you were in his car, parking on the steep slope of a hillside.
“It’s so far,” you complained.
He tutted. “It’s a five minute walk, princess, and it’s worth it. Trust me.”
You hesitated before grouching again, “It’s cold.”
Without another word, Heeseung took off his sweater. You tried to peel your eyes away from his white shirt that kept hiking up as he did. He passed it to you, and you couldn’t do anything but accept it because he was already getting out of the car. You wanted to hand it back to him because you knew he would be cold (made evident by the goosebumps that pricked his arms), but he profusely refused. He seemed perfectly content at the mere sight of you joining him.
He waited as you slipped on his sweater, the biggest grin stretching across his face. You were a little blindsided by how blinding Heeseung’s smile was, especially under the glow of the moon. Your cheeks heated up a little when you smelled faint traces of his Blackberry & Bay cologne in the fabric.
“You’re microscopic in my clothes,” he teased. You started walking a little faster to catch up with your friend, but his comment made you punch his shoulder.
“Oh, shut up.” You waved off the comment, but part of you liked how the sleeves of his sweater fell past your wrists. “We used to be the same height in, like, middle school.”
Heeseung barked out a laugh. “That was so long ago! Look at our height difference now.” Before you could anticipate his actions, he stepped in front of you and compared both of your heights.
You looked up at your best friend, raising a brow at his comment. Of course you were aware. Maybe at one point you denied it, but that was when you both were in elementary school and Heeseung would tug on your hair because he sat behind you.
Being this close to him made you a little nervous. After realizing that you had feelings for him, it was becoming difficult to keep them at bay. It was very clear that Heeseung had become much more masculine over the years with his buffer chest, muscular arms, and deeper voice.
And he looked extremely attractive.
“Yeah, I know you’re tall,” you replied flatly. It was normal for Heeseung to tease you, but whenever he did so in public, you always felt your heart squeeze in your chest. Then, he’d brush it off, and the feeling would fade out like bubbles floating to the ground. “You know, giving me your sweater and messing around like this probably gives people the wrong idea, right?”
“Oh… does it?” Heeseung mumbled, voice an octave higher than usual, and he turned his face away before you could detect the dust of pink across his cheeks. “By the way, have you been to a planetarium before?”
“Nope.”
You had always heard of the large domes that showcased the night sky. People sat underneath as a narrator droned on about stories from the past and the history of the universe. However, you hadn’t ever actually been to one, although you almost would’ve if you hadn’t gotten grounded before a class trip, resulting in all of your friends going to a planetarium show without you. You remembered Yizhuo was texting you throughout the entire trip, complaining about virtually everything that was going on and telling you how much she missed you.
“You’re kidding,” Heeseung’s eyes went round. “No way! You’ve never been to a planetarium?”
“Well—”
“Oh my god,” he continued, absolutely astounded. “Have you even lived?”
“I’ve just never had the chance!” you argued. “It’s not like anyone’s ever asked me to go to one. Plus, if there’s anyone I’d go with, I’d rather just go with you.”
Silence.
You and Heeseung had been settling into a lot of awkward pauses lately. It always followed some odd comment or action between you two, like when he got extremely close to you on the yacht. You still had no idea what exactly his intentions were during that whole ordeal, but your heart had never raced so fast.
Eventually, your silence was broken by an employee ushering you and Heeseung to walk past the velvet ropes and into the observatory building. You both were still silent upon walking in, but when you saw the signs pointing to the planetarium, you nudged your best friend’s side.
“It says the next showing starts in five minutes,” you pointed out.
“Fuck.” He slapped the pockets of his jeans, feeling for something solid in them. “I have my tickets—somewhere. Give me a second.”
Thankfully, he managed to figure out that he saved his tickets to his Apple Wallet. The sign stating that the shows were sold out nearly made your heart drop, but, of course, Heeseung had planned this out well in advance.
As always.
“Where should we sit?” you asked when you walked into the room, looking up at the dome-shaped ceiling in awe.
“Anywhere.” Heeseung grinned at you. “All we have to do is lay back and stare at the sky, so wherever you wanna sit.”
You both settled with two seats in the middle. It was smack dab in the center of the dome, right where the screen curved. Heeseung made a comment about how this was the ideal spot because it felt like you were getting sucked in by the stars.
When the show started, you gazed up at the screen in complete awe. Swirling nebulas and galaxies were painted across the night sky, blinking down at you. The narrator’s soothing voice made you feel absolutely immersed, and you had to grab the arm rest whenever the animation started speeding through the universe.
Heeseung booed when they showed Earth, throwing up a thumbs-down and then quickly shoving his hand back into his pocket, as if the planet would take offense.
And you realized you were in love with him.
You didn’t know why it hit you right then and there—a person droning on about space overhead, glancing over at your best friend to see him gawking at the solar system—but you were certain you would never feel this way with anyone else again. The feeling stampeded through your body, making your blood rush and your bones feel light. You were engulfed in a fire that burned only for Heeseung.
It felt so simple, yet all the more complicated. You were in love with your childhood best friend—the person who had been with you through everything.
It wasn’t like fireworks. Not a splash of ice cold water or like you had been kicked in the chest. It was more like slowly sinking in quicksand, not even realizing how deep you were until you were completely submerged.
You had been in love with Golden Boy for a long time now.
Later, after the show was over, he took you outside to overlook the city. Apparently, it was quite the sight to behold from this high up. You were still gushing on and on about the planetarium show, but as soon as you took a glance over the railing, you forgot all about the wonders of space.
Now, looking over all the bright lights really made it feel like the City of Angels. You were completely captivated by the sight. It was different from how it looked from the hot air balloon; everything was so miniscule from that height, but you could see how far the city stretched from here. The lights blinked past the horizon, and you were certain this was your first time seeing stars down below instead up in the sky.
Heeseung folded his arms onto the railing and tucked his head in them. “You can’t get this view anywhere else.”
“It’s beautiful,” you said, hardly audible.
“Yeah,” he replied. You wondered if he was talking about the stars above or the city below, so you turned your head to catch where he was looking. There was an alarming spike in your heartbeat when you realized he was looking at you, but Heeseung didn’t look away this time. “It really is.”
You never fully appreciated how gorgeous Los Angeles—never really looked past all the traffic and smog and crowd. The bustling city was tiring to keep up with at times. You saw it more as the city of burnouts than the city of stars.
But here, where the stars weren’t in the sky but down below, you realized that the brightest star of them all was the one right next to you.
It was Heeseung.
“You don’t still wish you were in the Bahamas, do you?” he asked suddenly, which spurred you to start laughing.
You stared up at him with incredulity in your eyes. “Hee, I never once wished I was in the Bahamas when I was with you.” You nodded to yourself. “I’d say you made this a successful summer.”
Your heart flipped in your chest when you saw those gleaming eyes and bright smile of his. It almost lit up the sky brighter than the city of Los Angeles itself. The way he was looking at you made you forget everything you were saying.
“Actually,” he started shyly, “there's something else that could make this summer perfect.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you go out with me?”
The question knocked you off orbit, electrifying every nerve in your body like it was cut wire. You weren’t sure what expression you wore on your face, but the shy look on Heeseung’s face was plunging you deeper in that inescapable quicksand. Of course, your friends had suspected this all along, but hearing it yourself was entirely different. You felt like you were glowing brighter than Polaris.
“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” he started to explain after gauging that you still needed time to process his words. “It’s not like I just felt this way overnight. I was just trying to make the right choices so that I could stay by your side for as long as I could. I mean, I’ll always be your best friend, Y/N, but I also wanna be something more than that to you.”
“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he continued. “I knew that this could possibly ruin our friendship, but I also knew that if I didn’t tell you how I felt, then I would’ve been lying to you through college, too.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “It’s only ever been you.”
Change was hard. You’d been at war with your mind for a while now over starting something new with Heeseung. Although it was unfamiliar and new, and although you were scared of things potentially not working out, you still wanted to try for him.
“You don’t have to worry about ruining our friendship.” The words were on your tongue like a pearl. Your soul leaked out of your body, straight into the Earth, then seeped back into you with newfound bravery. You blinked back tears that dared to spill and sounded so stupidly breathless when you confessed, “I’m in love with you, too, Hee.”
His eyes were as wide as saucers, unblinking. “You are?”
His voice was soft, imploring, almost desperate, so you stepped closer and cupped his cold cheeks with your warm hands. Heeseung’s gaze seemed faraway, but he placed his hands over yours, as if he was trying to make sure you were real.
“I don’t think there’s anyone else out there who would rent an entire hot air balloon just to make sure I wouldn’t miss the Bahamas.” You laughed, a moonstruck grin on your face. “And, for the record, I’d choose you over a stupid vacation any day.”
You had been waiting to see his face break into that dazzling smile of his where his eyes crinkled at the corners. Instead, Heeseung just gazed at you longingly before he placed a hand on your cheek and bent down to kiss you.
His mouth moved with yours carefully, almost like he was too scared to go any further. You moved your hands to loop around his neck, drawing him closer so that you could slowly deepen the kiss. You were grateful that Heeseung waited to match your pace, and soon he was dropping his hands to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him, too. It sent butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach whenever he smiled between kisses, mumbling something about how pretty you were or how he had been waiting to do this forever.
Sometimes, you realized, feelings didn’t need to be expressed through words. You didn’t need the confirmation because with Heeseung’s lips pressed to yours, you felt like you were glowing brighter than the stars above.
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You supposed you could say your parents were a little shocked to come back home and discover a major change in your relationship status.
You had to give them the rundown of what happened, of course. It wasn’t very hard to do, considering you had reiterated the same story to Yizhuo about a hundred times until she was satisfied. Thankfully, your other friends just needed to hear it once to fully grasp that Heeseung was now your boyfriend. For Yeji, you had to bring out a whiteboard just to draw everything out to her over FaceTime.
As you broke down what happened while your parents were in Rome, you noticed the silver necklace on your mother’s neck that glimmered whenever the light caught it. You smiled to yourself when you realized it was probably your stepfather’s honeymoon present, and you were grateful that your mother was able to experience such a wonderful love herself.
“See?” There was an excited gleam in your mother’s eyes as she bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies you and Heeseung made for them last night. She pointed the cookie in your stepfather’s direction. “I told you they’d get together!”
“I thought so, too!” he agreed. “That’s why I had that little talk with Heeseung when you two dropped us off at the airport.”
“That’s what you guys were talking about?!” you exclaimed, jumping up to your feet and then sinking back down in your seat with your hands covering your face. “I knew it was gonna be something embarrassing.”
“Oh, honey, don’t say that. Have a cookie.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Heeseung, who had been silent the whole conversation, spoke up. He reached over and took the cookie from your mother, but you smacked his hand lightly while he was bringing it to his mouth. “Hey! You almost made me drop my cookie!”
You huffed. “She was talking to me, idiot.”
You were honestly over-the-moon that dating Heeseung was this easy. You worried about having a boyfriend and having to go through the hassle of introducing him to your parents and waiting for them to warm up to him. With Heeseung, though, he was already like family in your household, so nothing felt too different.
Except that your parents could outwardly tease you both now.
Since you were in his parents’ good graces, too, everything seemed to click for you two. Both of your parents were planning to go out for dinner sometime this week to celebrate your new relationship, which you felt was a little over-the-top. You suspected that Mrs. Lee was hoping you would be her future daughter-in-law.
They were even planning on renting a Airbnb together for yours and Heeseung’s move-in at Yale. It was almost terrifying how everyone in your life seemed to be fully on-board for this relationship.
Not that you were complaining, though.
“Are you guys going somewhere now?” your mother asked, eyeing Heeseung’s white button-up that you were wearing over your swimsuit. “Make sure you wear sunscreen. It’s supposed to be the hottest day of the year.”
You checked your bag to make sure your sunscreen was, in fact, there. Heeseung took his baseball cap off to put it on your head, which made you crack a smile.
“Yeah, we’re going to the beach,” you said. “Yizhuo and Chenle wanted to spend the day at Santa Monica, and then we were gonna head over to Jungwon’s house.”
“Well, have fun.” Your mother moved to the kitchen to grab Tupperware to package the cookies. Your stepfather followed her in to help her out. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go to the Bahamas this year, but the beach has to be the next best thing, right?”
You shared a grin with Heeseung, and his eyes crinkled beautifully at the corners. “Yeah, it’s exactly like the Bahamas if I close my eyes.”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you for reading all the way to the end if you made it this far !! :’) i have always wanted to write pure fluff without any room for misunderstandings or angst LOL and heeseung is just the perfect embodiment of bff2l ♡ i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this !! 
TAG LIST ▸ @mmsriza @changmin-wrlds @13isacoolnumber @from-xero @acciomylove @nyujjan @goldenhypen @bbanggami @lvsunq @cb97curls @ily-cuz-i @jakeyuni @soobisms @rikibae @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @outrologist @kyukittie @nabinthegardnn @viagumi @kpoplover718 @duolingofanaccount @jjongsha​ @teawithbucky @baekhyunstruly​ @mykalon @heelariously @hobistigma​ @ja4hyvn @candidupped @shmooooo​ @pr0dbeomgyu @heeyunkist @sunshine-skz @hiqhkey @baekhyuns-lipchain @fakeuwus @wvnkoi
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wolfiesmoon · 10 months
Text
A rare ingredient
Inumaki x gn!reader
sometimes only being able to say onigiri ingredients gets a little tough on our boy :(
@kairiscorner just tagging you since you wanted to read this!!
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The upside of having a crush is, well... everything good that comes along with having a crush. Your smile is the most beautiful thing ever to him. He feels oddly happy most of the time and especially happy when you're by his side. He wants to share everything with you, every minute detail of his life.
The issue is, however, that you've only transferred to Jujutsu High recently and can't understand anything he says. Unlike his other classmates who reply with "thanks" and a grateful smile to "spicy cod roe" as is intended, you simply give him a confused smile every time.
And that doesn't even cover the fact that he doesn't have any words to describe his love for you. He wouldn't have them even if he were able to talk normally like everyone else.
"Kelp." he greeted you, waving.
"Ah, hello!" you inferred that he was greeting you, waving back to him. He swears you look better every day and help but gaze upon your amazing face.
He is eternally grateful for the uniform that covers the lower part of his face, because he doesn't think he would have gotten away with blushing so much around you otherwise.
Normally he would surprise you by sneaking up on you from behind but after you told him that freaks you out he stopped. You're the one person he's willing to make that exception for. Maki isn't as lucky, unfortunately.
"...Tuna mayo." he never knows what to tell you, and considering his limited vocabulary, that would be kind of hard to do anyways. It's fair to say that you do most of the talking when alone with him.
"Uhhh, I met up with my non-sorcerer friends today." you always assume the role of storyteller with Toge. He's a good listener. Though you don't know why he always insists on staying by your side.
"I didn't tell them what I've been up to, of course. They wouldn't believe it anyways. But aside from that, we went to our favourite café that we frequented all the time in middle school." you smiled fondly at the memories that flooded your mind at that moment.
"Salmon." he wants to be invited to that café, too. Prefferably just the two of you. On a date.
You smiled awkwardly at him, nodding. You never know what in the world he's trying to tell you so you just "smile and wave" most of the time.
He furrowed his brows slightly, then looked off, seemingly thinking really hard about something. You raised an eyebrow in question.
"...Prawns." ("...I love you.")
His eyes met yours, and your eyes slightly widened. Did it finally get through to you?! Did you somehow understand his little confession?!
"You've never used that one before..." your expression returned to normal, still smiling at him, atlhough a bit intrigued by the rare ingredient now.
"By the way, are you alright? You're making a weird face." you moved closer to him, inspecting the upper half of his face.
"Caviar." he covered his face with his hands.
You're going to be the death of him.
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moonstruckme · 1 year
Note
Poly!marauders with a reader who has a hard time explaining (or expressing how she feels) thing??? Like, she knows what to say but she stumbles over her words a lot??
You dont gotta write this obviously, have an amazing day!!!!! <3
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Hope you had an amazing day too :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 784 words
You’re feeling a bit cramped. You’ve got your back to the couch’s armrest and your knees are pressed tight to your chest, feet all but tucked under you to avoid touching James’ thigh. Remus lounges casually on his other side, Sirius sprawled with his legs over the opposite armrest and his head in Remus’ lap. They all look perfectly laidback, spread out and limbs overlapping as they chat about the upcoming quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Meanwhile, you’re afraid to breathe too deeply lest you take up any more space. 
“They’ve been having a great season,” James says, but Sirius only scoffs.
“Yeah, but they’ll never work up the guts to play as dirty as Slytherin does,” he argues. “There’s no winning against them if you’re not willing to meet them where they are.” 
“We never have, and—here, love, that can’t be comfortable—” James takes you by the ankles, encouraging your legs to lie across his lap. You hold your breath, not daring to move a muscle but allowing him to maneuver you as he likes. “—and as long as I’m captain, we never will. We won against Slytherin fair-in-square this season, why can’t Hufflepuff?” 
“You’re delusional.” Sirius rolls his eyes, but then they catch on you interestedly. “Prongs, I think you’ve stupefied her.” 
James turns back to you, brown eyes warming with concern. “Sorry, lovely, I didn’t even ask before moving you. Are you comfy now?” 
You can feel your face igniting. This thing with them is so new, and you feel always on the brink of doing something that will spoil it. You don’t know what liberties to take, what to say or not say, whereas the boys seem relentlessly self-assured in every respect. You like having your legs spread across James, but part of you feels like you’re not allowed to like it. 
“Oh, yeah, um,” you stammer, “I’m good.” 
James looks unpersuaded. You don’t blame him; you haven’t done a great job of it. “Are you sure?” he asks. “We’re taking up more than our fair share of space, we can move over if you like.” 
You shake your head emphatically. 
Mirth sparks to life in Sirius’ eyes as he recognizes your state; it’s the beginning of his favorite game. “What is it, baby? Cat got your tongue?” 
“Pads,” Remus chastises, though his own countenance holds evidence of mild amusement, “leave her alone.” He turns his attention to you. “Does it make you uncomfortable when one of us touches you like that, dovey? It’s not a problem if it does, we can stop.” 
“No!” you exclaim, half-desperate. “I mean, it’s not not nice, I just didn’t…”
James strokes the skin of your ankle in a way that you’re sure is meant to be reassuring but only unnerves you further. “Didn’t what, sweetheart?” 
“I just—I—well, you know—”
“Not sure we do, sweet thing,” Sirius drawls. 
“I just—I don’t know,” you say, growing frustrated. “I’m not sure what the rules are, or the…what’re they called? The boundaries, or whatever. I’m not making any sense, sorry.” 
“No it’s alright, don’t apologize,” Remus says. “You’re saying that you weren’t sure if you could touch us, right?”
You nod mutely, wondering that the room hasn’t gone up in flames from the heat coming off your face. 
Remus nods in turn. “Right, well that’s understandable. None of us have bothered to check in with you, have we?” You’re unsure whether you’re supposed to answer, but Remus goes on, fixing you with a painfully kind look. “I don’t have any reservations about it, and I don’t think James or Sirius do either. Lads?” 
“None at all,” James agrees, and Sirius sends you a wink. 
“Touch me any way you like, dollface.” 
Remus gives you an exasperated look about that, but there’s a good heaping of fondness in it. Then his expression softens again. “What about you, sweetheart?”
You take a moment to fit the words into your mouth. “I’m good with that.” 
James makes a sound of teasing endearment, tugging you by the legs so you’re nearly in his lap and squeezing your knee affectionately. “Our shy girl. You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?” 
“I know,” you sigh, letting your head come to rest tentatively on his shoulder. “I just…I can’t always—it’s like my mouth won’t cooperate.” 
“Do you get nervous, honey?” Sirius wheedles, pouting when you try to use James’ form to hide from him. James chuckles, obliging you by setting a hand on your face, covering you from Sirius’ view. “Why would that be? Are we so scary?”
“Don’t torture her, Pads.” James strokes your cheekbone consolingly. “If she never talks to us about anything again, I’m blaming you completely.”
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lovelybucky1 · 1 year
Text
Nectar- Tommy Shelby x Reader
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warnings: AFAB!reader, f receiving oral sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation, blasphemy kink, church sex, heavy religious themes, corruption kink, dirty talk, canon typical violence
masterlist
The church is quiet like it always is at this hour. The pews empty of parishioners, the confessionals vacant, and the lights dim. The priest and almost everyone in the neighborhood have long been in bed. You, however, were wide awake.
You’ve been working in the church since you were a girl, per your family’s wishes. It’s mostly charity work: caring for the sick, poor, orphans, and others in need. You also spend a fair amount of time working inside the church, cleaning and whatnot. It is fulfilling work, but it doesn’t offer much in terms of pay, so you don’t have much of a space to call your own. That is why you spend your nights in the empty church, alone save for the conversations you have with God.
Since you spend so much time in the church, you’re pretty familiar with the congregation. It’s not often you see a new face unless a new family moves to the city. When you heard the heavy oak doors open, you were expecting a devout Catholic in crisis, not the notorious crime boss, Tommy Shelby.
You watch from the first pew near the altar as he walks down the aisle toward you. His hat and coat are wet from the rain, and once he takes a seat a few rows behind you, he takes them off. You’re confused, wondering what he could be doing in your church in the middle of the night. Part of you feels nervous, knowing that danger never follows far behind a Peaky Blinder.
“Good evening, Mr. Shelby,” you decide to speak up, voice kind and sweet as always.
Tommy’s eyes flick to you, but his expression is unreadable. “I’m not dead yet, eh?” he says. You look closer at him and in the dim light, you can just make out the dried blood splattered on his face.
So maybe it isn’t a good evening. Nevertheless, he has come to a church and he is allowed sanctuary here. You make your way over to where he sits and you stand at the end of the row, obviously looking hesitant if his glance is anything to go by.
“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask. Instead of a response, he cocks his head to the side in a way that you’re interpreting as go ahead. You sit down, pressing your knees together to make yourself as small as possible. There is about a foot of space between the two of you, but even still, the proximity to him is overwhelming.
As the two of you sit in silence, your mind starts to wander. You know his Aunt Polly is Catholic; she frequents the church, though she never attends the services. You’ve overheard her prayers before, and you understand why she prefers to pray in private.
“Are you Catholic, Mr. Shelby?”
Your desire for conversation seems to surprise him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to looking straight ahead at the altar. It takes him a few moments to respond, and you can see the inner battle on his face as he decides how to answer.
“No,” he says.
“I see. Your Aunt is, though. I see her nearly every day.”
“And she’s a fool for it.” The bitter tone he takes only gives you more questions.
“I take it you don’t believe in God?”
“You’re quite inquisitive,” he says, shooting you a look. “God abandoned me long ago.”
You sigh. Many of the men held the same sentiment after they came back from the war. The horrors they experienced in France, the death and destruction took the fear of God away from these men. Now, all they fear is each other.
“It’s never too late to find him again,” you offer. Tommy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle in response. “You can still be saved.”
“I’m past the point of saving. I’ve got a spot in hell waiting for me.”
You frown at that. “God is all about forgiveness. God will even forgive men like you as long as you accept him.”
“What’s the point in asking forgiveness if I don’t indent on stopping?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, making himself look more intimidating. “And what do you mean, men like me?”
As if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you, you immediately realize your mistake.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I just meant men in your… line of work,” you say, trying to backtrack.
“And what line of work is that?”
Tommy is sitting up now, leaning just slightly closer to you. Now that he is fully facing you, you can see the blood on his face, but by the lack of injuries he has, you’re suspecting it’s not his. His gaze is piercing as he stares into your eyes, smirking as he waits for you to respond.
“I-I don’t know.” With a small, satisfied smirk, Tommy leans back again. “I’m just saying, sir, you haven’t strayed too far from God’s light.”
That makes him chuckle again. “I see. So all I have to do is absolve myself, right? Confess my sins and I’ll be God’s child once again?”
He’s toying with you now. He wants to see if you are devoted enough to your God that you’d try to convince the biggest sinner in the city to become a religious man.
“That’s right,” you smile softly, still hesitant from your previous slip-up.
“Can I confess to you?” he asks.
“I’m not the priest-”
“I want to do this now. I want to find God.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.
“Okay,” you agree. It’s about confessing to God, the person doesn’t matter. “We can go to the confessionals.” You begin to stand, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.
“That’s far too formal, don’t you think? We can do it right here,” he says, the faintest look of mischief in his eyes.
You nod and sit back down, folding your hands onto your lap. Tommy slides off the bench and sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped in front of him.
“Bless me, for I have sinned,” he begins, looking into your eyes. “It’s been many years since my last confession. In my time away I’ve done many bad things, terrible things, that make me ashamed to look in the mirror. I’ve lied, stolen, scammed, and gambled. I live a life of deceit and greed, and I’ve found great success in doing so, but those are not the sins that weigh heaviest on me.”
You watch him intently as he speaks, your eyes tracing every word his mouth forms. Your heart begins to beat quicker in your chest; the idea that you’re getting access to information only meant for God makes you feel guilty, but it’s also exciting in a strange way.
“I’ve taken many lives. During the war, I was ordered to, but I continued once I came home. I’ve killed in every way imaginable. Shot in the head, slitting their throat, hanging, drowning, burning, suffocating. I’ve had men ripped apart for betraying me, and I did not feel remorse. I watched these men suffer as my men tortured them. I laughed as they pleaded for God to save them.”
Tommy doesn’t look as remorseful as most do when they’re confessing their terrible sins. He almost looks proud, like he’s bragging about them to you as you squirm under his gaze. The graphic descriptions he’s offering make you uncomfortable like your skin is too tight on your bones. Like he’s corrupting you just by having you listen to his tales.
There is a blaze behind his light blue eyes that captivate as much as they scare you. They bore into your soul and peel back the layers, revealing all of your inner thoughts. It makes you want to run away screaming, to pray for God to rid this world of the devil in front of you but you’re stuck, frozen in front of him as he confesses.
Tommy takes a breath as if what he is going to say next brings him great shame. As if he hasn’t already confessed the worst sins man could commit.
“Perhaps worst of all, I lust. I lust after women and I envy men with beautiful wives to the point I take them for myself. I’ve had many married women in my bed, as well as hers. I fuck whores too, but only the pretty ones. And they can’t be cheap, because those women can’t keep a secret. I don’t only fuck them in the bed. I’ve fucked in my office, my car, and my pub. It doesn’t matter who these women are, but once I have my sights set on them, I am determined to get what I want.”
The confessions about his sex life shock you. Of course, you know people have pre-marital sex and affairs are common, but you’ve spent your life in the church. You don’t hear of these things frequently, and you feel bashful because of his vulgar words. Tommy holds eye contact with you as he speaks, though you find it difficult to meet his eyes.
Your body betrays you now; you’re unsure how to react. You should be scared, you are scared. There is a murderer less than two feet from you, splattered with someone else’s blood. However, he has a soothing, gentle voice, kind eyes, and a soft smile. It’s hard to believe that the man on his knees praying to God is a monster, but you find it harder to believe that there is a heat growing between your thighs from his confessions.
The vivid images of Tommy with some faceless woman play in your mind. You imagine the way he’d look lost in pleasure, carefree and blissful. You imagine how his rough hands, which are currently clasped together, would feel on your skin. You imagine how his voice would sound in your ear, how his lips would feel as he whispers.
Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a physical reaction from the fantasies. Your skin feels hot, burning with shame as you pray that Tommy doesn’t notice your current state.
“And finally, I’d like forgiveness for lusting after the church girl who was stupid enough to think she could show me the light,” he says, hands now dropped at his side and gaze predatory.
Entranced by his words, you didn’t notice how close he had leaned in, now only inches from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a split-second, you think you see Tommy’s eyes on your lips.
“Sir?” you ask, voice no more than a squeak.
“I appreciate your efforts, dear, but I sold my soul many years ago.”
Tommy’s eyes are sharp and his grin is wide as he leans closer to you. He has lured you into his trap and you fell for it like a fool. Now, helpless and trapped, he is going to swallow you whole. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, almost downing out his sweet, deep voice.
Tommy places his hands on your knees, and even through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the coolness of his skin. The touch, although not sexual in nature, electrifies you. A shiver runs down your spine and Tommy must notice if the slight smirk is anything to go by.
“Are you alright?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Yes,” you choke out.
“Would you mind helping me?”
You furrow your brow, now much more hesitant to do anything for him. Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you’re certain you are trembling slightly.
“With what?” you manage to ask. Somehow, even on his knees below you, Tommy makes you feel small.
“I need something new to worship,” he says.
Tommy slides his hands down your claves until he reaches the hem of your dress, which he then pushes up to reveal your stockinged legs. He gently guides your knees apart and you allow him until you feel too exposed. You resist against him and he looks up at you with a questioning look.
“I-I can’t,” you say.
“You can lie to yourself, you can lie to God, but you can’t lie to me,” Tommy says, grasp still from on your knees but no longer pushing. “You want this.”
You look away, over your left shoulder as you try to hold onto any of the values you held before Tommy entered the church. You’re saving yourself for marriage, and even worse, you hadn’t formally met Tommy before tonight. There’s no love, no future, between the two of you. It goes against everything you have been taught since you were a girl, but he is appealing to the primal side of you. The side of you that slips your fingers underneath your nightgown after you say your nightly prayers. The side of you that allows your eyes to linger on the men in the chuch during service, even as their wives and children sit beside them.
Tommy is not putting the thoughts of sin in your head, he is simply tempting you to act upon the urges you have felt for years.
“You’re the devil,” you whisper.
“And you’re the fuckin’ Virgin Mary,” he counters. “You spend all your life worrying about what’s going to happen when you die. How about I show you what it’s like to live, eh?”
You set your jaw, trying to save a bit of your dignity before you give the man on the floor permission to debase you. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head, but that is not enough for Tommy.
“I need to hear you say it.”
You wonder if he is really concerned with how much you want this, or if this is just another power move. You swallow thickly and resolve yourself to the reality of the situation: if you want anything from the devil with the silver tongue, you’ll have to play his game.
“I want it.”
You’re Eve, and you have just been tempted to take a bite out of the apple by the snake.
With a wicked grin, Tommy presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and, embarrassingly, the contact makes you jolt. He removes your shoes, unbuckling them quickly and with ease, then placing them underneath the pew. His hands reach up your skirt to grab ahold of the top of your stocking. He gently rolls them down your smooth leg and pulls it off your foot before turning his attention to the other one.
It is unnecessary for him to undress you like this, especially when your stockings wouldn’t be an obstacle. There is something about being unusually bare in a church that makes you ache with guilt, and Tommy must know that. He seems like he knows everything.
He bunches the skirt around your upper thighs and he spreads your legs farther. This time, you don’t resist. You swear you see his mouth water when he catches a glimpse of your white knickers, pristine and perfect like a good girl should wear.
“What a precious little thing you are,” he grins.
Tommy ducks his head and drags his nose along your inner thigh until he reaches your clothed mound. He presses his face between your legs and takes a long, slow inhale like he’s smoking a cigarette. His fingers press firmly into your legs and you’re certain you will have bruises left behind. You should be upset about that but truthfully, you’ve longed for something like this.
Tommy’s fingers find the edge of your panties and gently push them to the side, exposing your pussy to the church air. Your breath hitches in your throat and you watch as he stares shamelessly at you. He swipes his finger through your folds to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He brings his hand back to show your desire glistening in the dim light.
“What’s all this?” he asks smugly.
“Don’t make fun of me,” you huff.
“Oh love, I’m not making fun. I think it’s sweet how worked up you got over nothin’.”
Tommy leans in again and his hot breath fans over your cunt, which now feels cool from being in the open. You shiver with anticipation as he nears, and your body jolts when his tongue makes contact with you. It’s a light, barely there touch but it sends an electric shock through you and elicits an embarrassing moan.
You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t stop or say anything else. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, then back down. Your hands twitch at your sides, fighting back the urge to grab him, not wanting to show how much you’re enjoying his torture. He knows, of course.
He works you up slowly, not giving too much attention to one spot, not making you too sensitive. You keep your attention focused on him, watching intently as he pleasures you. You don’t even feel the sting of his nails digging into your thighs when he sucks on your clit.
“Sir, please, this is wrong,” you try to reason, but your broken, airy voice sends a different message. You don’t want him to stop, you’d probably cry if he did, but it’s still wrong. It’s still a sin.
You hold on tightly to the edge of the wooden bench to ground yourself so you don’t get lost in the pleasure. Part of you realizes how ridiculous this situation is: a notorious gangster eating out an innocent little church girl. Another part of you couldn’t give less of a shit and just wants to cum.
“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whine. It’s unclear if you’re begging for more or to stop, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s going to give you what he wants and nothing more, nothing less.
He slides two fingers into your soaking cunt and curls them against that spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl. He fucks you with his fingers and works your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself nearing the edge faster than you ever have before.
You build up to your peak, and after a particularly harsh suck to your clit, you begin to cum. Your orgasm shutters through you, making your legs twitch on his shoulders. You let out an unintelligible whine as you grip the bench. Despite having cum, Tommy doesn’t let up on his assault. He continues to suck on your over sensitive clit until you’re shrieking and pushing his head away.
He chuckles and sits back on his heels, looking at you with a glistening face. He makes a show of pushing up his sleeve and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You want to close your legs to stop the cool air from hitting your sensitive cunt, but he is still in the way, keeping you exposed.
“Nectar of the gods in there,” he smirks, glancing down at your soaked pussy.
Without another word, he stands up. He picks up his hat and coat, and begins to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone.
“Wait,” you say, voice echoing in the church. He stops and turns around, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”
“What more do you want?” he asks.
“What about you?”
Tommy chuckles. “Such a generous soul. I’ll take care of it myself, love. You just get to prayin’. We did a lot of sinning you have to repent for.”
You sigh and nod. “Will I see you again?”
“If I decide to become a priest,” he says with a smirk before turning on his heel and continuing out the door.
You know Tommy Shelby will never turn to priesthood, but you do have a feeling he’s found something in the church worth coming back for.
my inbox is open for requests!
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raysrays · 6 months
Note
Kyojuro x wife Reader where the reader is pregnant but the hormones are getting to her, she needs relief and kyojuro is happy to help her out?
Keeping Control
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Kyojuro Rengoku X Pregnant Wife! Reader
18+ Content MDNI🚫
CW: Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, NSFW Content, Comforting Fluff.
This was my first request and I do apologize for the wait and appreciate any inspiration given! Ill be posting request in the order they are received!! Thank you!
Y/N Perspective
I never saw myself as a control freak or someone overly concerned about my health, so I assumed that starting a family would be one of the most joyous and straightforward experiences of my life.
Prior to becoming pregnant, I really looked into extensive research on cravings, contractions, and the most effective home remedies for a smooth birthing experience. I genuinely believed I had everything under control; there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be fully prepared for this baby.
However, that changed once I actually became pregnant. Despite my thorough preparation, there was one thing I hadn't accounted for: the unpredictable nature of hormones.
As a woman, I've definitely dealt with my fair share of hormonal ups and downs, but let me tell you, nothing quite prepares you for the rapid change of pregnancy.
Now at around six months along, I find myself facing all kinds of challenges, not just physically, but mentally as well. One moment, I'm overwhelmed with sadness and emotion, and the next, I'm bursting with joy and excitement. It's really a whirlwind of emotions at the moment.
But you know what's been amazing? Kyojuro. He has been an unwavering source of support throughout this entire journey. He's been by my side, anticipating my needs and ensuring I'm comfortable at all times. Even when he's not around, he entrusts Senjuro with the task until his return.
Usually, I'm all about being independent and tough, but let me tell you, pregnancy has a way of humbling you. I mean, just one wrong look from Kyojuro and I'm on the verge of tears.
Truth be told, it was Kyo who first brought up starting a family. He's been pretty upfront about it since the early days of our relationship. Actually, he's even mentioned wanting multiple children, which is something I'm still wrapping my head around as I navigate this first pregnancy.
But, I love him, and seeing him happy means the world to me. So, even if it means dealing with all these crazy emotions for nine months, I'm all in.
As I've been navigating my feelings and attempting to rein in my emotional outbursts, I've noticed a new sensation, one that caught me off guard.
I've always loved Kyojuro and been drawn to him, hence wanting to have his children, but recently, it's been different. I find myself incredibly attracted to him. Whenever he's near or touches me, I feel an overwhelming sense of arousal.
When he's away, I find my heart and body aching more than usual, caught in a constant need for him. I thought I was hiding it well until recently...
"Is something bothering you, little flame?" Kyojuro asks, his hands busy with the dishes from our dinner.
"No, I'm quite alright," I reassure him with a smile.
It's been almost a week since Kyojuro returned from a high-profile mission, and I've needed him terribly.
He turns off the water and dries his hands before walking over to me.
Leaning in, he places his forehead against mine.
"You're warm, and your face is quite red. Did you catch a cold while I was away?" he asks, his concern evident.
I shake my head no, grateful that he's mistaken my longing for him as something else.
Though I've discussed these feelings with Shinobu and understand they're natural, I still feel a feeling of embarrassment bringing it up to Kyojuro.
He pulls away, placing his hand lovingly on my cheek.
"I need you to be honest with me, my love. I'm worried about you. You've seemed reserved since I returned home. Did I do something wrong?"
The look in his eyes breaks my heart—it's the exact opposite. The only reason I've kept my distance is because I'm afraid my sudden neediness and desires will freak him out.
I gently take his hand off my face and hold it in mine.
"No, Kyo, you've been nothing but perfect. I've just been struggling lately..."
"Struggling with what, my love? Whatever it is, I'll fix it for you. You don't have to worry about a thing!" he says in his usual, loud, happy tone.
I could feel my face growing even redder at his words. I knew he didn’t understand. I knew his intentions were pure, and yet they made me feel so aroused.
I drop his hand and quickly stand up, needing a moment to collect myself.
Maybe I just needed a second to gather my thoughts, and then I'll be fine.
"Y/N, where are you going?" he calls out to me as I start to walk away.
"I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back," I begin, but I'm cut off by two strong hands firmly holding onto my hips, keeping me in place.
Kyojuro slowly turns me to face him, his expression now more serious.
"Stop avoiding me, little flame. What's gotten into you?" His tone now stern.
Had he done this at any other time, I would have started sobbing uncontrollably, thinking he's angry with me. But right now...
Right now, the way he's looking at me has me feeling desperate.
I squeeze my thighs together tightly, attempting to avoid his intense gaze. If I don't break away soon, I know I'll cave and lose control.
He gently grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. A wide grin spreads across his face.
"It seems like my sweet wife has been hiding something from me. Am I correct?" he says, referencing my trembling legs.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I reply unconvincingly.
He then pulls my face closer, pressing his lips firmly against mine.
In that moment, I feel like my heart is going to burst. I crave more. I need him.
I accidentally let out a small moan against his lips.
He pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands trail down my sides, circling around my pregnant stomach.
"I didn't realize my poor wife had been feeling so unsatisfied. Please, allow me to assist you with your troubles."
He then scooped me up off my feet, carrying us back to our room at the back of the estate. Being carried like this by him only intensifies my attraction to him.
Feeling his muscles flex as he carries me and the gentle way he lays me on the back of our shared futon
I watch as Kyojuro sits on his knees beside me, his eyes scanning me hungrily.
He's the one who makes the first move, kissing me gently and slipping his tongue into my mouth.
His hands explore my body, eventually making their way under my clothes.
Kyojuro is normally so gentle and loving when we make love.
However, I've noticed a difference in his approach tonight, a subtle change in his demeanor.
"Little flame, you're driving me insane," he mutters into my ear, his lips trailing kisses down my neck.
A shiver runs through me.
"Kyo, I've been trying to tell you, but..."
"Tell me what, my love? Why you've been avoiding me? Or why you’ve been suppressing your desire for me?”
The way he’s talking is so unlike him. And yet, it makes me feel hot all over.
"Kyo, I..."
"Yes, Y/N, tell me."
"I want you."
"Hmm? That's not the answer I'm looking for. Tell me what you really want."
"I want you inside of me," I admit, my voice quiet.
He smiles before moving on top of me, his body hovering over mine.
"See? Was that so hard?" he whispers in my ear before gently biting it softly.
"Please, Kyo, I want you so badly. I can't take it anymore," I beg, grinding against him slightly.
"You've been such a good girl, my flame. Now, be patient, okay?"
I nod, watching him intently.
He gently parts my clothes, revealing my naked pregnant body.
"You're so beautiful, my love."
He leans in, planting small kisses all over my swollen breasts, causing me to squirm underneath him.
"Don't worry, I won't tease you too much."
He moves further down my body, his mouth lingering at my hips.
I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I'm already soaked and desperate for him.
"Please, Kyo," I beg again, my breathing shallow.
He grins before parting my legs and running his fingers through my folds.
"You're so wet. Is this all for me?"
"All for you," I breathe out.
"I seem to have kept you waiting my love, I think it's time to reward you."
"Kyo," I call out to him, unsure if this is all real.
I reach out for him, and he leans into my hand.
"What is it, little flame?"
"I love you, Kyo," I say softly, my voice cracking.
He looks at me, his eyes softening.
"I love you too, Y/N. More than anything."
He then leans forward, and with his eyes locked on mine, he licks my slit.
I let out an unintentionally loud moan, my body shuddering.
"You taste so good.” he praises before continuing.
"Kyojuro please. Don't stop," I plead.
He's devouring me like I'm his favorite meal, his tongue running through my folds before settling on my swollen clit.
He sucks on it, his lips gently grazing the sensitive bud, sending the much needed waves of pleasure through my body.
"You're so amazing, I can't get enough of you," he says before going back to work.
His relentless pace, the way he's moaning as he eats me out, the way he's looking up at me, watching me, is all too much.
"Kyo, I'm going to cum. Please, don't stop."
He wraps his arms around my legs, gripping my ass and pushing my hips down, preventing me from escaping his hold.
"Come for me, Y/N," he commands, his tongue circling my clit.
My mind goes blank, my whole body tensing.
I bite my lip til I can’t hold back anymore.
The sensation is overwhelming, and my orgasm rocks through my body, causing me to convulse.
Kyojuro's arms tighten around me, holding me in place as he continues to eat me out, prolonging the feeling.
"Kyojuro, I can’t." I whine.
"Shh, you're okay. You did so well. Let's try for another, shall we?"
I barely have time to react before he's back at it, sucking and licking my sensitive clit.
"You’re doing so good for me my love."
His words of praise are all it takes for another wave of pleasure to roll over me.
"It's too much!" I cry out, unable to hold back.
He finally pulls away, a smirk on his face.
"You did so good my dear. You took that so well."
He then leans back and starts to undress, his eyes never leaving mine.
"God, I've missed you," he says as he undoes his belt, removing his pants, revealing his hard cock.
He takes it in his hand, pumping himself slowly.
"Look at what you've done, little flame. Do you see how good you make me feel?"
"Kyojuro, I've missed you so much."
"I'm all yours, my flame. Just say the word."
"Please, Kyo. Please, fuck me."
He leans in, kissing me passionately before lining his cock up with my entrance.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, I can't wait any longer."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
He slides his cock inside of me, letting out a deep groan as he does.
"You're so tight, Y/N."
Once he's fully inside of me, he pauses, giving me a moment to adjust to his size.
"You feel so good."
"So do you." I breath out.
He begins thrusting, slow and deep.
"Fuck, I've missed this so much. You feel so good."
I felt myself clench around him at his words. Kyojuro doesn’t usually curse but when he does it’s so hot.
He's breathing heavily, his muscles flexing with each thrust.
"You're doing so well, Y/N. You’re already getting me so close.”
He groans, his cock twitching inside of me.
"You're so good, Y/N. You're driving me crazy."
"Please, Kyo. Please."
"You're such a good girl, begging for me."
He pounds into me, his hips slamming against mine.
"I'm gonna cum, my love."
"Do it, Kyo, please."
He grunts, his cock pulsing inside of me, his seed filling me up.
He collapses on the futon next to me, both of us breathless.
"How are you feeling, little flame? I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?" He places a hand on top of my stomach, rubbing it gently.
"I feel so much better now, Kyo. Thank you." I plant a small kiss on his cheek as he pulls me closer, holding me tight.
"You know you don’t have to hide your feelings from me, sunflower. I'll always be here to love and support you, no matter what you need. You're carrying my child, let me ease your body whenever you wish."
I feel him running his fingers through my hair, planting small kisses on my forehead.
Now that I've finally let out all those pent-up emotions, I feel utterly exhausted. All I want to do is lay here in his arms until the baby arrives.
Then, I'm sure I'll be more than ready to give him another one.
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rootedinrevisions · 5 days
Text
Cop Car
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SUMMARY: You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.
WARNINGS: None
WORD COUNT: 3.5K
TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87
The faint roar of jet engines reverberated in the distance, a low hum that vibrated through the night air. You were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, your back pressed against his chest as you both lounged in the truck bed, staring at the vast sky above. There was a thrill, a kind of reckless energy, in sitting just beyond the "No Trespassing" signs, so close to the runways where the Navy's finest pilots took off.
Your heart raced, though it wasn’t from fear of getting caught. It was from being here, next to him. You felt the soft thud of his heartbeat as you lay back against his chest, your body cocooned in his warmth.
“You sure this was a good idea?” Jake’s voice was low, tinged with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
You grinned up at him, the glow of the airstrip lights casting soft shadows across his features. “Since when have you ever cared about breaking the rules?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Fair point. But if your old man catches us—”
You cut him off with a playful laugh, turning in his arms so you could look up into his eyes. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a plan?”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded confidently, leaning in closer until your noses almost touched. “If we get caught, I’ll just tell them how much I love planes. They’ll understand.”
Jake shook his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll get us out of any trouble.”
You leaned back against him, your eyes flicking up to watch as another jet took off, its engines roaring to life and tearing down the runway before disappearing into the night sky. There was something magical about it, watching those planes cut through the darkness. You’d loved planes ever since you were a kid—since the first time your dad had taken you up for a ride.
Sighing contently, you snuggled deeper into Jake’s embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. The moment was perfect, just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. All the worries of tomorrow didn’t matter. It was just you, Jake, and the thrill of being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.
“Hey, look,” Jake said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Another one.”
You followed his gaze, watching as a fighter jet lifted off into the air, its sleek frame disappearing into the starry sky. For a second, you imagined what it must be like for Jake—to be up there, soaring through the clouds, with nothing but the horizon ahead of him. You admired his ambition, his drive.
“What’s it like up there…you know when you’re flying?” you asked, watching another jet take off, its lights blinking against the darkness.
Jake’s laugh was low, vibrating through your body as his arms tightened around you. “It’s the best feeling in the world…besides being here with you.”
You smiled, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of his face, the shadows from the runway lights dancing across his jawline. There was something about being here, just the two of you, that felt untouchable—like nothing could ruin this moment. It felt like the world belonged to just you and him.
But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the glow of headlights approaching from the other side of the fence. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Uh, Jake,” you murmured, sitting up a little. “We’ve got company.”
Jake followed your gaze, his jaw tightening as the headlights got closer. A black SUV with the words “Military Police” emblazoned on the side rolled to a stop just a few feet away from Jake’s truck.
“Shit,” he muttered, sliding out of the truck bed and extending a hand to help you down. His expression was still calm, but you could feel the tension rolling off him as the door to the SUV swung open.
Two officers stepped out, their faces stern and their postures rigid as they approached. The taller one, a gruff-looking man in his mid-40s with a salt-and-pepper beard, was the first to speak.
“You two realize this is a restricted area, right?” His voice was sharp, no-nonsense.
You exchanged a glance with Jake, your heart thudding in your chest. “Uh, yeah,” Jake said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We were just watching the planes. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to you. “And you? You got identification on you?”
Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t on base legally, and you knew it. While Jake was a Navy pilot with all the right credentials, you were just the daughter of one of the Navy’s most legendary pilots. That wasn’t going to help much right now.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… I don’t have any ID on me.”
The second officer, a younger man with a buzz cut, stepped forward. “Name?”
You hesitated, glancing at Jake before answering. His green eyes were serious, silently telling you to be honest. There was no talking your way out of this.
“Y/N Mitchell,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
The officers exchanged a glance, clearly recognizing the name. “As in Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” the first officer asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
You nodded, your heart sinking. “Yeah… that’s my dad.”
The older officer exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating the headache this was going to cause. “Well, Miss Mitchell, you’re not supposed to be here. You’re aware of that, right?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Jake cut in. “Look, this is on me. I brought her here. She just wanted to see the planes. I’ll take full responsibility.”
The officer gave Jake a once-over, clearly unimpressed. “And you are?”
“Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” Jake said, pulling his Military ID card out of his wallet and handing it over. The officer examined it under the flashlight before handing it back, his expression still stony.
“You know better, Lieutenant,” the officer said, his voice low and stern. “You’re military personnel. You should know what ‘No Trespassing’ means.”
Jake clenched his jaw but nodded. “Yes sir, I know. I screwed up.”
The officer gave a nod to his partner, who immediately stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “I’m afraid you’re both coming with us,” the younger officer said, reaching for Jake’s wrists first.
“Wait, is that really necessary?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you watched them cuff Jake.
“Afraid so,” the officer replied, his tone almost bored. “Regulations.”
Your breath quickened as the officer turned to you next, holding out the cuffs. “Turn around, ma’am.”
You swallowed hard and did as you were told, the cold metal of the cuffs clicking around your wrists. The reality of the situation began to set in, and for the first time, a sliver of fear crept in.
Jake met your eyes, and despite the cuffs, he managed to give you a reassuring smile.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady, “it’s gonna be fine.”
You nodded, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the weight of what could happen hung heavy in the air.
The officers escorted you and Jake to the back of their patrol car, opening the doors and motioning for you to get inside. You slid in first, Jake following closely behind, the door slamming shut behind him. The inside of the car smelled like leather and disinfectant, the overhead light casting a dim glow across your faces.
You slouched against the seat, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Jake caught your eye and raised an eyebrow.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft as the officers stood outside making phone calls.
You nodded, resting your head against the seat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”
Jake exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the flashing blue lights reflecting in the window. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”
You let out a soft laugh, the tension easing slightly. “He might. But hey, at least we’ve got a good story now.”
Jake chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat, his eyes closing briefly. “Yeah, some story. 'Remember that time we got cuffed for watching jets take off?'”
You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You know, we could try to make a run for it.”
His eyes snapped open, and he turned to you, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re crazy.”
You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe. But you love it.”
He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I do.”
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the situation fading as the minutes ticked by. Outside, the officers were still making calls, seemingly in no rush to let you go. But you didn’t care. In this moment, sitting in the back of a patrol car, cuffed and facing who knew what kind of trouble, all that mattered was being here with Jake.
He glanced over at you again, his expression softening as he took in the way the blue lights danced in your eyes. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, even in a situation like this. And for a second, all his worries about tomorrow and whatever consequences awaited him melted away.
“Your dad’s never gonna let me see you again, is he?” Jake asked, half-joking, though there was a hint of concern in his voice.
You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”
Just then, the familiar sound of car tires on the gravel made you both look up. The unmistakable silhouette of your father, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, appeared in the distance, his boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel as he approached the patrol car. The blue and red lights cast long shadows over his form, and even from inside the car, you could see the tightness in his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He was pissed, no doubt about it.
Jake shifted beside you, his relaxed demeanor faltering for the first time since the police had shown up. His face fell, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. “This is gonna be bad,” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at you.
You could only nod, your stomach twisting with a mix of dread and embarrassment. If there was one thing that had always been constant in your life, it was your dad’s protective nature. And now, seeing him storming toward the car—where you sat in the back, hands cuffed, with Jake beside you—it felt like you were about to face the full force of it.
Just as Maverick reached the car, the officer nearest the door gave you and Jake a nod, his face stern as he reached for the door handle. 
“Alright, out you two,” he said, his voice gruff but controlled. 
He opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in, cutting through the warmth of the enclosed space. Jake was the first to move. He slid out of the seat with a quiet grunt, his wrists still bound by the cuffs as he straightened to his full height. The officer standing nearby gave him a once-over, clearly unimpressed, before placing a hand on Jake’s arm to guide him to the side of the car.
Then it was your turn. You followed Jake’s lead, scooting across the seat and stepping out into the gravel. The moment your feet hit the ground, you felt the weight of everything hit you all at once—the flashing lights, the tension in the air, and your dad’s unwavering gaze locked on the two of you. The officers didn’t waste time; you were both led a few paces away from the car, standing side by side as Maverick looked between you and Jake with that intense, assessing stare.
Jake, to his credit, stood still and silent, his jaw clenched tightly. You could sense the regret rolling off him in waves. His shoulders were stiff, and for once, he seemed unsure of what to say. Not that there was much he could say to fix the situation.
Maverick’s eyes moved between the two of you, taking in the sight of his daughter cuffed and standing beside Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin. His frustration was palpable, but the way he lingered on you for a second longer made your stomach twist. This wasn’t just anger—this was disappointment.
The older officer cleared his throat, drawing Maverick’s attention for a moment. “Captain Mitchell, sir,” he said, more formally now, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.
Maverick’s gaze didn’t leave you and Jake, his arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on here?”
The officer quickly explained, outlining how they’d found you both in a restricted area and how neither of you had proper authorization. The moment he finished, there was a beat of silence. Maverick’s eyes narrowed as they settled on Jake.
“Lieutenant Seresin,” he said slowly, his voice deceptively calm, “care to explain why I’m getting a call in the middle of the night saying my daughter’s in the back of a patrol car with you?”
Jake straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “Sir, it’s on me. I brought her out here. I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” Maverick cut him off, his voice sharp. “You didn’t think at all, clearly.”
You winced at the harshness of his tone, knowing this wasn’t going to go over well. The officer standing beside Jake glanced between the two men, but remained silent. Maverick’s gaze shifted to you, and the weight of his stare made your heart sink.
“Y/N, you know better than this,” Maverick said, his voice firm but with an edge of concern. “You know what happens when you break the rules, especially on a military base. What were you thinking?”
You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to the officers. “Can you take the cuffs off?”
The younger officer hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Sure, Captain.” He stepped forward and unlocked Jake’s cuffs first. Jake gave a slight nod of thanks but didn’t move otherwise, still standing rigid beside you.
Then it was your turn. The officer released the cuffs from your wrists, and you immediately rubbed at the sore spots where the metal had bitten into your skin. The weight of the cuffs was gone, but the tension hanging between the three of you was suffocating.
Maverick gave the officers a short nod, signaling for them to step back. Then he crossed his arms again, his eyes flickering between you and Jake. “You two are lucky it was just the military police who found you,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if this got reported up the chain? You’re both smart enough to know better.”
Jake shifted beside you, finally finding his voice again. “Sir, I take full responsibility. Y/N shouldn’t get in trouble for this. She was just with me. If there’s any punishment, it should be mine.”
Maverick’s gaze hardened as he stared down Jake, a long silence stretching between them. Finally, Maverick spoke, his voice cold. “This isn’t about punishment, Seresin. This is about trust. You’ve got my daughter out here, breaking rules, putting herself in a dangerous position, and you didn’t think for one second about what that means?”
Jake flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to put her in danger.”
Maverick exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “You okay?”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on your shoulders. “Yeah… I’m okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Maverick said, his voice gentler now, though the tension still lingered. “But you’re coming home with me.”
He turned back to Jake, his face hardening again. “And you, Lieutenant… this doesn’t go on your record, but if you’re serious about my daughter, you’d better start using your head.”
The night air hung heavy as Maverick walked back toward his car, his command still lingering in the space between you and Jake. Though the cuffs were off and the immediate crisis seemed to be over, you couldn’t shake the knot tightening in your chest. Maverick wasn’t letting this slide easily, and both you and Jake knew it.
“Lieutenant Seresin,” Maverick called out, his voice stern and carrying authority, making it clear this wasn’t a request.
Jake, who had been silently rubbing his wrists, snapped to attention. He straightened up, his posture rigid, falling back into his role as a Navy officer. “Yes, sir.”
Maverick’s gaze hardened as he took a step closer, his voice unwavering. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say goodnight to my daughter, and then you’re going straight back to your quarters. No stops, no detours. Understood?”
Jake nodded, his usual confidence visibly absent. “Yes, sir.”
Maverick’s eyes narrowed slightly, the warning in his expression unmistakable. “And Lieutenant… Don’t think this is over because you apologized. You put her in danger tonight, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I expect better from you.”
Jake flinched at the words, his jaw tightening as the guilt in his eyes deepened. “I understand, sir,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”
Maverick held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded toward you. “Go on. Say goodnight.”
Jake exhaled and turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of regret and something softer, more vulnerable. As he stepped closer, he hesitated for a second, glancing briefly toward Maverick, then back to you.
Without saying a word, he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that melted the tension in your body. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of the embrace momentarily blocked out everything else—your dad’s watchful eyes, the police cars, the chaos of the night.
Jake leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead instead of your lips, a gesture that felt protective, as if he were trying to shield you from the weight of everything that had happened. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “This won’t change anything. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
You nodded against his chest, your throat tight with unspoken words. “I love you too,” you whispered back.
Jake squeezed you gently one last time before letting go. You could see the strain in his expression, the regret hanging heavy in his posture as he pulled away. He gave you a small, reassuring smile as if trying to make everything feel less complicated, even though you both knew it wasn’t.
You reached out, pulling him in for one final hug, a silent goodbye filled with the promise that things weren’t over between you. Jake closed his eyes briefly as he held you, then slowly stepped back, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer before he let you go completely.
Turning away from you, he walked toward Maverick, who stood by the car with his arms crossed, his expression still stern but no longer as harsh. Jake gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging the silent tension that still lingered between them.
“Get going, Lieutenant,” Maverick said, his voice firm. “And don’t let me hear about you being anywhere other than your quarters tonight.”
Jake nodded, his voice steady but low. “Yes, sir.”
Without another word, Jake turned and headed toward his truck. You watched as he got in, glancing in your direction once more before he started the engine. The sound of his truck pulling away filled the quiet night, and soon enough, the taillights disappeared into the darkness.
Maverick let out a slow breath once Jake was gone, his rigid stance loosening ever so slightly. He turned toward you, his expression softening as he stepped closer, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with the concern of a father who had been shaken but was trying to hide it.
You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Maverick sighed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he murmured, patting your back gently. “Let’s get you home now.”
You leaned into him, finding comfort in the familiar embrace, but even as you walked with him toward his car, your thoughts remained on Jake, his whispered promise still echoing in your mind.
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earfqwake · 5 months
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Alpha Killua/Brother X Omega/Sister Reader
Part 2
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dark content warning: contains brother/sister love, yandere behavior, nsfw, explicit, you’ve been warned!! 🕷️
Killua can’t exist without Y/n.
It’s been close to two years since you and Killua presented at 16, and a lot had changed for you.
True to his word Silva no longer required Y/n to partake in the family business. The not so slight down side was that Killua’s work load doubled now taking more jobs then ever before. It pissed him off no doubt but more or less he didn’t seem to mind as long as you were safe and sound at home. You had tried arguing to Killua that he really didn’t have to and you didn’t want to burden him. Didn’t matter, he wasn’t hearing any of it.
So when you were informed by Father on this decision and it’s finality you instantly sought out your brother knowing he was the reason behind this. Staring into his eyes with softness only held for him you sighed, “Killu, you don’t have to do this for me! I can do this for you too, Im not some weak little girl anymore.” Embracing you in his arms he shook his head. “You and I both know this was for the best.. now you can spend your time doing things you actually want to do.”
Giving him a sorrowful expression you push away from his hug. He was always like this, trying to shelter you from the harsh realities of the world. But this was too much. “This isn’t fair to you though, how can I be happy knowing your risking your life out there solely for me.” Killua looks away and huffs out a deep breath clearly uncomfortable that he’s made you upset. Shaking your head you turn to go back to your father. “I’m going to ask Father to change his mind, I can do this to.”
At that he jumps to action and grabs your arm before you can fully turn making you face him. His reflexes are much quicker and his strength is rivaling that of Illumis already. That only upsets you more, how much has he suffered to get to this level of strength? Frantically he tries to reason with you his inner alpha being upset at the one he loves being distressed.
One of his hand gently holds your cheek directing your teary eyes meet his. “No! No, listen Y/n I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it okay? Just let me do this for you..please.” Melting into his touch I place my hand over his and hold it closer to my face. He’s letting out calming pheromones that envelope me whole but I still can’t help but cry.
Tears fall down my face and he quickly laps at them, a habit he created as a pup and has no desire to break yet. Not when you cry those pretty tears just for him, would be a shame to let them go to waste. “UhUh, no crying, you don’t have to cry anymore Y/n. ‘M gonna take care of my Omega, my little sister” Kil Mumbles affectionately as he catches each tear with a soft lick occasionally placing little kisses on your cheeks. Nodding in understanding you blink away any more tears now just lightly sniffling. In a small voice you answer to him, “You are too kind, always taking care of me! Wanna take care of you too Onii!”
Letting out a low growl of approval he nuzzles into the side of your neck breathing in your now calm scent. You smell sweet like peonies with a freshness like the air the morning after it rained and just so good. You smell like home, his home and only comfort in this harsh world he was born into. “You always take care of me baby, being so good for me. Gonna keep you safe until I can take you far away from here. You remember what I promised you?” He whispered just so you could hear him, placing small kisses on you loving the way you scent spiked with arousal. “Y-yeah I remember Kil”, Is your breathless reply as you lean your head to the side letting him swipe his tongue over your sensitive neck.
————————————————————————
~ 6 months prior ~
It was just another regular night for you, already having bathed and finished your night time routine. Skin soft and smooth with a slight glimmer from your lotion. Adorned in a matching set of pajamas that was pink with daisies all over them. A white lace trimmed cami top with shorts of to match that clung to your body perfectly. The moon shined through your window reflecting off the matching anklet and necklace Kil gifted you as you sat up in bed anxiously.
He’s been gone for an entire week now with Illumi doing a job he was tasked for, and it must’ve been dangerous if Father sent both of them together. Hugging a white cat plushie to your chest you sighed and layed in bed restlessly. Soon you slip into restless sleep but you awaken an hour later when you heard your bedroom door open up. Years of training made you instantly awaken and tense up until you saw who it was.
A freshly bathed Killua slipping into your bed in just sweat pants, he wraps his tired arms around you and sighs as he breaths in the scent of you that fills the room. Now he was finally home. Nuzzling your slightly startled face he smiles. Even in your sleepy state you give him a big tight.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, we just got back tonight. Go back to sleep.” Purring at finally being in his arms you pout, “I was so worried about you…” Smiling he plays with the heart shaped locket necklace that dangles from your neck ending just above your bust.
Flattered he hides his blush behind a quick witted joke, “You’re always worried about me cry baby.” It was true but you can’t help thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong when he’s gone for so long. Rolling your eyes and huffing you turn your back on him and cross your arms over your chest, “Well excuse me for caring. I’m going back to sleep then I have to leave out for my own task in a few hours anyways.” Grumbling Killua wraps an arm around you pulling you flat against his toned chest. Your smaller body fitting perfectly against his own. “And why wasn’t I told about this?” I giggle and turn my head to face his. “Because you would’ve tried to make PaPa give you this mission too, you need to rest Killua I can handle this it’s fairly simple and I should be back within the same day.”
Knowing I’m right he just lets out a irritated huff, but his expression quickly dissolved again when he heard my laugh again. Staring at my lips before looking down at the curve of my body slotted against his. And how your ass is just sitting perfectly on his bulge you feel his length twitch against you. I deadpan stare at him before busting out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me Kil ! Let go.”
Shaking his head no he traps me in his arms shoving his groin closer to me. Continuing to wiggle only makes him stiffen more letting out low growl he playfully bites your ear. Squirming at how it tickles you giggle more, “Ow Killu !!” Satisfied with my reaction and finally hearing my laugh for the first time in a week he smiles.
I feel myself swooning all over again, Im pretty sure there’s hearts in my eyes. And then he’s staring at my lips again longingly. The air in the room suddenly feels warmer and the smell of our arousal mixing makes me feel fuzzy. Starting to feel shy I turn my head away, “Kil, I really need to sleep now, and you need rest too…”
Ever so slowly, slides his hand that was holding my torso up my body until his hand rests comfortably on my neck. With light force he directs my face to meet his again and leans in. Tilting his head he furrows his brows in confusion, “I thought I told you that taking jobs isn’t necessary anymore. I don’t want my pretty girl getting hurt.”
Having him this close and feeling him twitch in his sweats against me is distracting. Suddenly I’m feeling almost breathless looking into his intense eyes. “B-but Killua, I want to help you and the family.” Again, he feigns a look of confusion yet still devouring me with his eyes alone. “You keep calling me by my name , that’s not what you usually call me baby. And why are you worried about them ? You should only worry about me, Onii knows what’s best for you, right ?”
Emphasizing his point he gives a soft squeeze of my throat, keeping his hips firmly against my back side, even as I try to discreetly rub my thighs together. “I-I’m not a pup anymore , I don’t call you Onii! You treat me like I’m a baby.” His eyes widen now almost as if in disbelief. He was gone for one week and you’re acting out.
Rolling his hips against me, I bite my lip to stiffle a moan. His hand trails back down from my neck to resting on my hip. “Oh you’re not my baby anymore ? Even though we’re older you’ll always be my little baby sister, but you’re right! Your a big girl now Y/n, Look at this pretty body..” His hand that was caressing your hip slides inbetween your thighs.
Slick now soaking through the light material of your sleep shorts has you gasping. Parting your legs for him automatically as he rubs over your slit . A deep growl of satisfaction is felt vibrating on your back, “Yeah that’s my big girl, so beautiful and so mine.” Feeling up your wet pussy through your shorts he stops to slowly rub against your aching clit. His breath felt warm against your ear as he whispers, “Your mine right Y/n-chan?”
Nodding my head as my eyes flutter closed, too busy focusing on the pleasure he was giving me. And although he was more composed than you he was slipping into that fuzzy head space too. Pleasuring the one he loves, bathing in her scent after being deprived for seven whole days of her touch. He couldn’t help himself from stealing a needy kiss from your lips, which you gladly returned.
His hips rhythmically rolling against you in time with how his two fingers rub at your clit. “So perfect for me,” Even as you moan he keeps your lips together swallowing them as he does with every bit of attention you give him. Selfishly. Possessive. Obsessed.
His grunts mix with your whimpers, he still won’t give up kissing at your mouth, you messily return kisses but the pleasure is just too distracting. Your hands cling to him to drag you down from the pleasure. One hand gripping his hair keeping his mouth close to yours the other grasping at his forearm. Not pulling him away from his motions, just wanting to touch him. “Perfect just for me, fuck Y/n.”
His face is flushed now, seeing you fall apart is enough to please him. Pressing one more sloppy kiss he pulls back reluctantly, but just enough so he can see the mess he’s made of you with just a few touches. And oh man, it was almost enough to make him bust in his pants. Swollen lips glossy from your desperate kisses, eyes low from breathing in his scent and squirming from his hand rubbing up and down your cunt.
He groaned as he took the very last bit of restraint he had left to halt his rutting. Slowed his hand down before he removed it all together making you whine in confusion. Repositioning himself to kneel in between your legs with you on your back. Pushing your legs up and open so he could see the slick covered mess you two made. Drinking in your image only makes him thirsty for you.
From above you he looks so handsome, seeing his toned body that has built muscle never fails to make you feel flustered. Looking down you see how big he is,feeling it against you was one thing but seeing his outline in just sweat pants has you moaning. Your eyes both taking eachother in. It’s silent other than your breathing calming down.
You’ve curiously touched each other before, but never this far. Making out was as far as it went, and he was always handsy with you never wanting to let go of you. This is uncharted territory though, never having a boyfriend of your own to explore with, which was all apart of his plan.
Finally your eyes meet, his eyes are darker than usual. Love & lust is in the air and very hard to deny. Curious hands touching on eachother. Killuas hand teasingly rubbing your soft inner thighs as he holds them open. “Too perfect Y/n,” He whispers before interlocking both his hands with yours. It’s like time stops as he leans down again kissing you, but softer this time. He may struggle with expressing his emotions but it always comes through his actions.
His love for you being ever evident in his eyes, in each slow motion of his lips against yours. And his hips roll against you again but this time it’s slower, wanting to take his time. “It’s hard for me to control myself around you, but I’ll wait until it’s time. We’re gonna be mates Y/n, and I’m gonna take care of you...” Breathlessly you moan, your hearts are beating in sync, the love you two have for eachother is blossoming into something new.
Yet doubt shreds through. Killua notices the change in your scent and nuzzles into your neck to distract you with soft lips against your sensitive scent gland. “But w-what if it’s not you? We’ll never know until the day of our birth day.” He can’t help the growl that rips from deep within him. You? With anyone other than him? Please even if by some odd miracle his name wasnt revealed on your wrist he wouldn’t let you go. Never.
“Said your mine Y/n, no one else can have you, my mate. ‘M gonna marry you Y/n have you full of my pups.” The pleasure isn’t enough to distract you from all the what ifs. “Kil, my pups, I d-don’t want them to grow up like us. I couldn’t handle that!” You cry out to him, even as you feel these euphoric feelings of him stimulating you it’s bringing out a vulnerability within you. Nipping at your neck he sucks a decent sized bruise there. That’ll have to do until he can actually mark you.
Sighing he stops yet again, he wants you but not like this. Not when you are questioning your future together. For now he ignores how painfully hard and pent up he is and comforts you. Kissing up your jawline be presses kisses on your lips not wanting his baby sad. “They won’t baby they won’t… I won’t let them hurt you anymore. You listen to me okay.” Big eyes look up at him with tears threatening to fall.
“I promise you I’ll be a good alpha for you.. for our pups. They’ll have what we needed and more. But you’ve gotta help me help you. No more taking jobs , I’ll do it for you and you just wait for me. After we mate I’ll get us far away from here, anywhere you want to go.” At that your heart fills with joy, far away from Kukoroo mountain and your crazy family ? That’s a dream come true, but is it just that ? “Are you sure Killua? That we can live a normal life away from this?”
Nodding his head he smiles at you. Your smile brightens up the whole room and your scent doubling down as your happiness spreads through your whole body. “But you hold up your end of the deal, no more taking jobs Y/n I mean it, It’s too dangerous for you.” He says sternly but his smile still not leaving his face because seeing you happy just does that to him. Cracking his cold exterior down to nothing but dust.
Pouting you groan, “But I don’t like seeing you come back exhausted or possibly hurt.” Rolling his eyes his grin deepens as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ��It’s a good thing you can heal me with your pretty tears, huh. You didn’t even notice the stab wound on my leg.” Gasping you wiggle out of his hold, pushing him backwards so you are now the one on top of him. Your lip wobbling as you feel frantically for where it might be at. “Killua why didn’t you tell me? I knew something happened.”
He doesn’t even flinch when you press slightly on his right thigh where you feel the bandage under his soft sweatpants. His eyes scan your face as you let you tears fall and hit his abdomen, your nen making quick work at the wound and in no time it’s gone. Frowning he sees your eyes still crying even though he can no longer feel the pain. “You worry too much as it is, I’m sorry I upset you pretty..”
Reaching one hand up to rest on your cheek and swipe at any more tears, his other resting on your thigh giving it a small squeeze. Wiping your eyes you rest your hand on where the wound once was smoothing it over. Still not meeting his eyes your other hand plays with the string of his sweats.
“Come on Y/n I’m sorry this won’t be forever.. I told you we’d leave this life together. I’ll take a thousand more wounds before I let you get hurt.” Only shaking your head you feel tears about to fall again. And he knows it soooo wrong but his dick jumps in his sweats wanting attention. Cooing he grabs your hands in his own “My pretty omega so worried for me, Im fine baby wanna see ?”
Your heart skips a beat, you’ve bathed together but never have you seen him before. You can only bring yourself to timidly nod at him, and he takes the initiative to guide your hands to the hem on his pants. They were already low hanging so you knew once you pulled them down exactly what you’d see. “Go ahead, you wanted to see that I’m not hurt right ?”
Swallowing hard you nod but still hesitated already seeing his happy trail of white hair. Tugging down his sweats he lifts his hips so you can pull them down further. Your eyes zone in on the bandage that was slightly tinted red on his right thigh. But in your peripheral vision you saw him, and you felt that ache in your lower stomach again.
Huge and hung, precum smeared on his tip from all the excitement and a vain running down the left side of it. Curly white hair at the base makes you want to touch him but you shake your head and go back to the task at hand. You frown and peal back the bandage to see a brand new scar to add to the many on his body. Atleast he was no longer hurt anymore, “O-okay Kil, it’s okay now you can cover up.”
Smiling he stops your hands as they reach to pull his pants back up and guides one hand to his member. “But what about right here Y/n ? I need your attention right here, it’s so hard for you” To emphasize his point he twitches in your palm. Placing his hand over yours he starts to stroke himself. Groaning his free hand up reaches up to squeeze one of your soft breast. “Come on I’ll show you what to do..”
Finding yourself rubbing your thighs together you almost moan at the sight before you. Seeing how handsome he was and being able to see him like this under you, your mate. Before you can say anything else the door slams open.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU LITTLE MINX !” Your mothers voice screeches at you. “How dare you seduce your brother to mate with you Y/n I am so disgusted with you!” I jump and back away until my back hits the backboard of the bed. Killua looks at me longingly and sighs like this is nothing but a inconvenience and tugs his sweats up. “Calm down you old hag, I came onto her first.”
Kikyo gasps and grabs Killua by the arm, hastily dragging him out the room, “Unbelievable Killua your father will be hearing about this!” That’s the last thing you hear before your door is slammed shut. I don’t move from my spot as I catch my breath and try to process what just happened.
It’s safe to say after that incident me and Killua were under heavy surveillance it was too risky being together.
————————————————————————
Even now, recalling the incident has you flustered for a multitude of reasons but you decide to block out the terrible ending to what would’ve been a great night. His sweet promise to you was what mattered. Taking you away, being mated, having pups. It was like a fairy tale and you hung onto those words religiously.
Coming back to your senses you try to put a end to his tongue attacking your neck already giving you hickeys in minutes. I gasp and push at his chest but he doesn’t budge. “Killua! Come on you’re going to get me in trouble..” Placing another sloppy kiss onto my now very wet neck he smiles proudly at his work.
“The last ones i gave you were going away.” Was his excuse as he admired your flustered face. “One week until our birthday can’t you wait ? just one week!” I say scolding him but my pleased scent betrays the front i put on. He snickers at the act you put on and nods in compliance. Taking your smaller hands, he places a kiss on each individual finger tenderly, before his eyes are staring into yours “Just one week so remember what i told you okay.”
Smiling at him you close the distance before you and he rests his forehead against yours lovingly as your purring fills the empty hallway. All peace comes to an end as you hear your mothers heals clicking along the corridor. Killua growls, he has done nothing to hide his feelings of disdain towards her since he was a child but you shake your head at him. Giving him a quick kiss to the cheek you two separate and watch as she turns the corner.
Halting she sniffs the air around her and scrunches her nose at the slight smell of arousal in the air. But one look at Killua and how he’s glaring at her already is enough for her to bite her tongue and hold any comments. Instead she clears her throat and smiles as she approaches you two. She dotes on you both, “My dear twins, my sweet babies ! Your birthday is approaching! Let’s go talk party details.” She says using the relevant excuse to come between you both and drag you elsewhere.
You spare Killua a glance and smile at him and thinking of his promise. And as if he is thinking of the same thing he smiles back genuinely.
Just one more week <3
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redamancy-writes · 1 year
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The Lost Boys (1987) x Fem! Reader - Payment
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Warnings: None
Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987
Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x Female! Reader
Title- Payment
“Is she awake yet?” 
Marko’s voice was unusually soft as he entered into the nesting area where you lay resting in Paul’s arms. You were laying on your side, your face pressed into Paul’s chest as he sat still on his back for you to use him as your personal teddy bear. 
“Not yet,” Paul whispered back, eyes not leaving your form as you breathed deeply, in and out, almost in a entrancing pattern. 
“We’re heading out soon, you should wake her up,” Marko nearly bursted into laughter at Paul’s horrified looking face. 
“You know she hates when she wakes up and we’re gone,” Dwayne murmured lowly, hovering in the doorway. 
“I just hate waking her- she looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping,” Paul’s pout was obvious as he looked to Marko and Dwayne with puppy eyes. 
“I’ll help you,” Dwayne decided, his lips upturning into a smile as he approached the bed, crawling to lay behind you just where David had been hours before to help you fall asleep. 
Rather than wake you though, the two simply watched- all desire to awaken you from your deep slumber gone. Your breath was deep and slow, your mouth open ever so slightly as your cheek was squished against Paul’s body. Your lips looking soft and pretty and oh so sweet, something they always remembered from your kisses. The answers of someone like you could love a rowdy group like them always evaded them. You were gentle, pretty, soft, and kind. Heart swelling of sympathy, your heart always on display. In concert with that you were understanding, trying your best to understand everyone- even if they had hurt you. Now these guys? They killed for fun, terrorizing people on the Boardwalk when they got too bored, and enticed others to make bad decisions that would end up benefitting them despite the hurt it would cause to those actually making such decisions. 
“Babycakes,” Paul murmured lowly, tone not too loud as to not startle you awake. “Time to wake up, sweet thing,” He leaned his head down to press kisses against your forehead, arm reaching up to draw patterns on your back. 
“It’s time to get up, little one,” Dwayne whispered from behind, his hand massaging yours- each knuckle getting an affectionate rub before he moved to your palm. 
Stirring from your sleep, Paul frowned as your expression lost it’s peacefulness and was replaced with scrunched brows- your mouth shutting as your head twisted to bury more into Paul’s chest. 
“Oh, c’mon now babycakes,” Paul couldn’t help but laugh at your antics, making a sleepy grin form on your face as you pulled yourself from his chest to stare at him. “Why d’ya wake me up?” Your words were slightly slurred from sleep, your eyes bleary as you pouted up at him. 
“So you could have time to wake up before we left, love,” David now called from the doorway, Marko standing at the edge of the bed. 
“Mmm,” You closed your eyes in thought. 
“Hey hey, don’t fall back asleep,” Marko called out to you, making you open your eyes again with a laugh, “I wasn’t trying to, I was just thinking…”
“Thinking about what?” Dwayne murmured, taking your hand up towards his mouth to give a kiss to it. 
“Thinking about- those,” You looked at Dwayne, making his eyebrow arch in a silent question. 
“Kisses,” You clarified, a grin spreading across your cheeks. 
“Oh I see, our little love wants kisses?” David grinned, approaching the bed.
“As a payment, of course,” You nodded at David, “Payment for waking me up so early.” 
“A payment is only fair,” Dwayne murmured, turning your head to press a kiss to your lips, a sound of surprise leaving you before you melted into him. The kiss ended all too soon, only for Paul to tilt your face towards him for his own kiss to be placed on your lips. 
David’s hands were free of his leather gloves for once, his hands feeling much softer than the leather as they cupped your cheeks and brought you into a deep kiss. 
“My turn,” Marko’s voice greeted your ears in a singsong manner after a moment, his impatience showing as when you opened your eyes he was already biting his nails to stave off his urge to approach you. 
“Marko,” You cooed, arms open for him as he eagerly clambered onto the bed, careful not to crush you with his weight as he pressed kisses all around your face, your laughs filling the room and their hearts before he captured your lips in his. 
Maybe they weren’t the nicest people, or the kindest- heck they were murderers… but you chose them, chose to love them and you didn’t shy away from their secret when they told you but embraced them with a warmth that never dimmed. 
“Mmm,” You sighed, “I think that satisfies payment in full, my dear boys.”
Tags- @icefrozendeadlyqueen​
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The Makeover and The Makeup
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Title: The Makeover and The Makeup
Pairing: Angel Dust x reader (Platonic), Alastor x reader (mentioned)
Word Count: ~1,369
In which Angel Dust and the reader get into a fight in the middle of a makeover session.
A/N: Part 3 of the Never and Always series. It’s super short, but I still hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Mentions of Val, mentions of de*th, Angel being suggestive, ooc Angel maybe
When you had first struck a deal with the Vees, they had treated you with something that had almost resembled kindness. They had showered you in compliments and praise, feeding you false promises and empty words of endearment.
It lasted for two days.
After that, you were fair game. Fresh meat. A new toy for all three Vees to poke and prod at while you did their bidding.
But then came your knight in blood red armor, holding his cane in one hand and smiling broadly as he greeted you with a kiss to your knuckle for the first time.
You had stuck to Alastor’s side ever since.
But although you were more than grateful for his rescue, you couldn’t help but continue to feel a little alone. Alastor had saved you, yes, and he kept you by his side, of course, but he wasn’t exactly one to share feelings or stories. 
He did, however, listen to yours. 
After you had shared a particularly brutal story having to do with a certain moth demon, Alastor had come to a quick decision and swept you away to the Hazbin Hotel. 
When you arrived, you had found a group of souls that were just as broken as you were.
Especially Angel Dust. 
While your brief time with the Vees was nothing compared to Angel’s ongoing experience with Valentino, he seemed to appreciate that you had some semblance of understanding about what it meant to be Valentino’s target.
Meanwhile, you were just happy to find that you weren’t the only soul foolish enough to fall for the moth demon’s charms.
Ever since the two of you had found out about your shared past, Angel had practically taken you under his wing. He introduced you to Cherri Bomb, invited you when he was high strung and needed to go out, and confided in you when he had a rough day at work.
You had done the same, telling your stories about the Vees and your life Before and sharing your feelings.
The last point, though, you were beginning to regret.
“So he killed a guy for you, huh?” Angel asked as he circled you, admiring his handiwork.
“That’s not what I said,” you protested as you looked at your reflection in Angel’s full-length mirror. 
Angel stopped walking and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “You really think Smiles left the guy alive? C’mon, dollface, you ain’t that naive, are ya?”
You flushed and looked down.
“That’s what I thought,” Angel said, smugness coating his words as he began walking once again.
You looked back up and glared at him through the mirror. “You know, when I said you could give me a makeover, I didn’t mean I was going to be your personal dress-up doll. This is the fifth outfit.”
Angel stopped beside you, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning into you as he admired his work in the mirror. “You knew what you were gettin’ into, sweet cheeks. Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
You did love it. It was fun to let your guard down for a few hours and allow Angel Dust to release his creative energy. Not that you would ever say so to his face, of course.
“Besides,” Angel continued as he wandered away from you and towards his closet, rifling through the many options. “Your first official date with Mista Creepy was a hit, right? We’ve gotta change up your style a bit if you wanna get some,” he said with a wink in your direction.
Your eyes widened. “That is not what I’m trying to do,” you hissed. “Alastor is my friend.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.”
“He is,” you insisted. “He’s been nothing but sweet to me, and I’m not going to ruin the friendship that we’ve built.”
You tried not to notice Angel’s grimace in the mirror. It was a lot harder to pretend, though, when he turned around with an uncertain expression on his face, holding a dress to his chest and avoiding eye contact.
“Look,” he said hesitantly. “I know he seems…”
“Kind.”
“Right,” Angel said, scratching the back of his head. “But I’ve been talkin’ to Husk. About you and Smiles. He says you should be careful.”
You couldn’t fight back the burst of anger that rose in your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Angel’s eyes widened as he held up his two free hands in surrender. “I ain’t sayin’ you gotta stop talkin’ to the guy. I’m just saying-”
“You don’t know him,” you interjected, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t know anything about him. I know he’s an Overlord, but he’s sweet and he’s kind, and he’s never done anything to hurt me. He would never hurt anyone.”
You realized your mistake as soon as the words left your lips. It was foolish of you to forget. Alastor was your friend, of course, but he was also an Overlord. One of the most powerful Overlords that Hell had ever seen.
There was a fire in Angel’s eyes as he leaned towards you. “He already has. He’s done it to all those other souls he owns, and he’s done it to Husk. I know you love ‘im, but he ain’t a good guy.”
You spluttered and stepped back, trying to ignore the blush that coated your cheeks. “I didn’t say I loved him.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You didn’t have to. I see how you look at him. It’s the same way I looked at Val before-” he stopped, looking down and away from you, shielding his gaze.
You felt your anger seep away as quickly as it had appeared. How could you have been so blind? Of course this situation felt familiar to Angel. You were a fool for not noticing any sooner. A fool, and a horrible friend.
Angel looked up, finally meeting your eyes. “I just don’t want you ta get hurt.”
You understood exactly what he was saying, of course. Alastor owned Husk’s soul, and despite never taking advantage of that fact when you were around, you had heard some of the stories from Angel. It only made sense that your friend was trying to warn you now. Someone he loved was already at the mercy of the Radio Demon. Of course he would do anything he could to protect you from the same fate.
You nodded, looking down. “I know,” you said quietly. 
You stepped forward then, wrapping your arms around the spider demon and squeezing tightly. “Thank you. For looking after me.”
For a moment, you received no response. Then, you heard the rustle of fabric as Angel dropped the dress that he was holding onto the floor, wrapping four of his arms around you and pulling you close. “That’s my job, toots,” he said quietly.
You held each other, a silent promise passing in between you as you gripped each other with all of the strength you could muster.
Finally, you stepped back, reaching out and grabbing two of Angel’s hands. You pressed them to your lips, one at a time, before looking up with a soft smile. 
“I hope I didn’t ruin the makeover,” you said with a gleam in your eye.
Angel grinned, reaching up with one of his free hands to ruffle your hair. “Not at all, sweet cheeks. Let’s get this show on the road.”
~~~
When Husk found the two of you later that day after searching for his usual drinking partner, he didn’t find two demons smiling together as they dressed up and pretended for a few hours that the rest of Hell didn’t exist.
Instead, he found two wayward souls on the ground, half dressed and half asleep, leaning against each other as they spoke in a way that only the closest of friends could.
They looked over at him, smiling and beckoning him closer, and drawing him onto the floor with them, where they spoke until sleep finally wrapped its kind arms around them.
They were still in the hotel, of course, but for the first time in a long time, these three souls finally felt like they were home.
A/N 2: Another part with more Alastor x reader is coming soon, it’ll be a continuation of A Dance in Death!! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @miyu-kii @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o
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hanasnx · 11 months
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About Peter in "closure"... He is soooo pathetic. I love him.
Do you think he's the kind of guy who suggests dating after dirty sex, even though you've already rejected him many times? I get the vibe that every time you call him he thinks something 'changed' in your feelings
— source.
MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: anon this shit got me biting my lip.
"I'd be a lot more accessible if we were, you know, dating." PETER PARKER's suggestion catches you off guard, exchanging a glance with him while he adjusts the hemlines of his suit. After your brief love-making you'd think he couldn't wait to get back out there, save the neighborhood or whatever. Your reticence is alarming, and he has to fill the silence, "It can be about more than just the sex."
You scoff. "Thought we've been over this, Spidey," You fix up the disheveled state of your room after he threw you around. "Besides, I doubt I can share you with the entire city of Manhattan." you joke, more to yourself than to him.
"Is that what stops you?"
You face him, and see he's approached the window, a steady hand bracing on the wall. "C'mon." you reason, slacking in place with books in your hand that were knocked from your nightstand. "Don't be like that."
"Be like what?" he asks indignantly, and you recognize his tense stance, the crease in his mask, his feigned ignorant tone.
You tilt your head at him with an exasperated sigh. "If you're gonna do this every time I call you, then maybe you can't handle it."
"Yeah, maybe I can't."
He's baiting you, playing a martyr to dramatize it and get you to see what you're about to lose. It's familiar. "Alright. Maybe don't come over next time I call."
"Maybe don't call."
Your jaw rolls, a thrill setting in your stomach. There's something hopelessly alluring about him when he gets like this. Pathetic and wanting, throwing a tantrum— in his own little way— to get you to understand his side of things. You idle. Throw your books onto the bed with a bounce. Leisurely, you saunter towards him, gaze set on his feet. You hum pensively to yourself, "'Don't call.'" you muse, parroting his words as if you're mulling them over, generously scanning his suit-clad form. You come to a stop in front of him, and he's made no move to exit. "Not even when I... need you?"
He considers it, and firmly responds, "Well, if it's an emergency..." he trails off, clearly referring to life-or-death situations, as Spider-Man is often confronted with.
"Oh, it's always an emergency." you correct him, your voice lowering to a sultry level as you fidget with the texture of his uniform.
"Not-" He pivots his head at the innuendo, narrowing his eyes. "Not that kind of emergency."
You close in. "Not even when I can't get myself off? When my fingers aren't enough? C'mon, Spidey, s'not fair. You know I have small fingers." you plead, heightening your pitch to convey a desperation as you clamber for his attention. Pressing yourself to him, draping over him. You can feel his resolve melting. "Thought you were all about helping a girl in need."
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blasphemecel · 3 months
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Michael Kaiser — Nervous Like a Bad Dog
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Humor, Fluff (debatable), Early relationship WARNING(S): tw Kaiser, tw AWKWARD
You are taunting him.
This is an offense Kaiser considers very grave. Of course you’ve done it before and often to his face, and it can be fun in a way like a fake chase where the victim knows they’re not in any real danger (maybe the word is ‘playful’ even though both of you get foul with it), but this kind of mockery is degrading. You’re not doing it on purpose, which makes it an act of second nature. And that means it's unforgivable.
“I hate this corny ass movie.” You gesture at the screen. “Wish they’d scream more, also.”
“You said you wanted to watch it,” murmurs Kaiser, not really giving a fuck considering he’s not even paying attention to the movie. His gaze is fixated on your hand, now far away from his again. Just when his skin was about to brush against yours and he was mentally congratulating himself for his discretion, you pulled away in such a blithe manner. All that straining for nothing.
“Well it sounded entertaining like, in a bad way, but it’s just boring. Also the religious themes are so superficial and edgy, you can’t even laugh. I think they should’ve been Amish. At least that would’ve been funny.”
You shift, settling your hand back over the couch. Kaiser wishes you were a little closer, though at least he can resume the hand holding mission, inching his fingers towards yours again. The physical response to what he’s attempting is embarrassing. With every advance his heart races harder, and his palms are sweaty, and it’s just fucking ridiculous. He can imagine your skin under his, almost tangible.
Technique-wise it’s not complicated. Despite the amount he’s tensing up, Kaiser understands, logically, that he’s making a mountain out of a molehill. But it is a tender gesture and Kaiser doesn’t know how to be gentle or sweet. Softness is alien to him. There is a certain light he needs you to see him in, to come off as suave and charming. It has to be perfect and smooth and like he’s done it thousands of times before, even though now will be the first. And you will swoon over him also, he’ll make sure of it.
Almost there, he’s about to grasp your hand in his, holy shit-
“Micha, are you even paying attention?” You adjust your position again, pulling it away completely as you recline on your side against the armrest. “I thought a pretentious snob like you would have more critiques to make?”
“The movie’s so shitty it has rendered me speechless,” he says. It comes out easy and natural enough, but his blood is boiling. Can you not sit still for more than a second?! This was the seventh time!
“Fair enough,” you reply, eyes still glued to the screen.
You’re teasing him, aren’t you? Otherwise how would it happen so much? You think messing with him is funny??? Exploiting his moment of weakness and faltering?!
Kaiser smirks (at nothing; the gesture is pointless since you’re not even looking at him and entirely performative for himself). As if you’ll get the better of him. Maybe more drastic measures are in order.
He starts scooting closer. You’re still bitching about the movie and with how slow he’s moving, he doubts you’re noticing him closing in on you, and even if you are you’re choosing to feign ignorance to it in your transparent attempts at belittling him. Well, that’s the way he’s perceiving your behavior, anyway, as a personal slight against him.
His arm is about to reach you, will reach you, wrap around you. He’s going to embrace you soon. Heart thumping away in his chest, Kaiser realizes his throat is dry all of a sudden when he swallows, but it’s going to happen-
You stand up and head to the bathroom without a second glance in his direction.
Kaiser sits there frozen in whatever position he was in mid-movement before your betrayal, jaw hanging open, and he realizes he must look like a stupid buffoon at the moment. He is livid, however. How dare you!? When he grits his teeth, it hurts a little.
After assuming a more acceptable and casual stance, he heeds the tv, finally. Some girl tries to drown the main character, but ends up dying of a head injury instead somehow and then some other bullshit starts happening.
Wow. You weren’t kidding, this movie is fucking garbage. It almost distracts him from his predicament.
You return and sit back down next to him all relaxed like you haven’t been actively giving him an uptick in cortisol and adrenaline. Do you think this is a game? It’s as if you can’t even tell you’re dealing him psychic damage — playing innocent and oblivious to your transgressions. What a cunning pretense that is.
Kaiser… grabs your hand and tugs it. And stares at you straight on. It’s kind of unnerving and intense for no reason.
You raise your eyebrows at him as if he’s being strange, this confused expression on your face. “Why are you squeezing so hard? I value my blood circulation, you know?”
Eye twitching, he corrects his grip to a proper, more sensible one, lacing your fingers together. You do not understand what his deal is. Kaiser says, “This will be the best hand holding of your fucking life even if it’s the last thing I do.”
… What.
Unable to help yourself, you burst out laughing. “You’re so odd, Micha.”
___
POV you wanted to have a date but your boyfriend is perpetually mentally stuck in his own version of silent hill
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Kalim, Vil: Pyrite, Prince, and Pauper
Wah 😭 I really love the initial art!! The water shimmering and making a rainbow… ✨ (Not used to seeing Kalim without his headscarf though, feels weird to see him bare!)
A Tale as Old as Time.
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If Kalim had to pick one word to describe what he was looking at, it would be celebration.
It was both humble and extravagant at once—the city streets, the venue, livened up with flags, confetti, and fanfare. A large elephant fitted with a vest and hat towered over the gathered townsfolk. Seated upon him was a young man in a turban and glaringly white robes, an arm extended to the sky.
A grand party for the public, and all were invited. Children and adults, animals and humans, nobles and street rats.
Kalim broke out into a wide smile. “Wow, it looks like everyone’s having so much fun!”
“You never seem to tire from the idea,” Vil commented dryly.
The supermodel patiently tapped a manicured nail against his arm. “I suppose a host showing his best face to the public is far from undesirable. I’ve certainly been to my fair share of events where the host was less than that.”
“Gahahah! You’re famous, so it makes sense you’d be in high demand at parties. Jamil told me about that red carpet you walked a little while ago. I managed to catch some of it on TV!”
Kalim’s garnet eyes glinted with excitement.
“You were all sparkly and the crowd was so happy to see you! You’re like the prince in this painting, hyping everyone up.”
“My, thank you for your support.” Vil’s lip curled. “I’m sure you’re in high demand as well… albeit for different reasons than I. Many would love to have the attention of the Asim heir on them.”
The third year chuckled, a hand tucked under his chin. “It’s only natural for people to be attracted to that which shines.”
“Shines, huh…”
Kalim folded his arms, inclining his head to one side. His mouth pinched slightly, disrupting the arc of his smile.
“… Hey, Vil. Can I ask you something?”
“You need not request for my permission.” Vil waved a hand. “Continue.”
“Do you really think I shine? Like, on stage.” A pause, then he quickly added, “And you can be honest with me. Please… be honest with me.”
“What’s this now?” Vil planted his hands on his hips. “Certainly, you’re not ordinary by any means, but I’d hesitate to call you a refined gem. A one month boot camp isn’t enough to polish your singing and dancing skills to that of a pro—but you’re not talking about VDC, are you?”
“Ahahah… Looks like you caught me.” Kalim let his arms fall to his sides.
“You can’t fool this actor’s eyes,” Vil said simply. “So? What is it that you’re actually after? It’s not like you to talk in circles.”
“It’s nothing. I… A lot’s been on my mind since winter break. Too many things. When I think about it for too long, I start to wonder if I’m really what people say I am.”
You’re so talented, Kalim-sama.
So handsome.
So smart.
So kind.
The very best.
“Sometimes...” He tugged at his collar, watching how it sparkled and shifted as he maneuvered the fabric. “it feels like I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go. Or like my clothes don’t fit me right.”
The golden boy, the prince to make way for, the sun all looked to. They were the roles he wore, but suddenly they felt hollow.
Lies set adrift on an errant wind.
Dust of pyrite, fool’s gold.
Am I pretending to be something I’m not?
“… I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?” Kalim laughed softly, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have made today feel sad.”
“On the contrary,” Vil tutted, “I understand all too well. All the makeup in the world, the nicest clothes, and the most skilled stylists cannot make a pauper become a prince. A pauper is a pauper, no matter how they present.
“However… a perfect little prince is not all that has value. I’ve played enough parts and been in enough productions to know. There are swash-buckling pirates, daring space heroes, dastardly villains, and, yes, even clever, honest street rats who find themselves in the public eye. Perhaps they did not start off as diamonds, but in the end they proved themselves to be diamonds in the rough.”
Vil lifted his chin—indignant.
“Regardless of how others perceive you or what ensemble you wear, you remain yourself. So long as you hold true to your own moral compass and principles, you shall always be someone who shi… Ough!!”
He could scarcely finish his sentence before he was tackled. Kalim was embracing him tightly, only pulling back when Vil muttered that he was creasing both of their suits.
“Thanks, Vil!! Talking with you made me feel so much better! You’re really not as bad as they say you are.”
Vil frowned. “I’m aware that I have my detractors, but you must learn to be more tactful with your choice of words.”
“Tactful, right! Got it! I can do that.”
Kalim released him and spun around, splaying his arms out. He pretended to present the painting with a flourish, looking back at Vil.
“Someday, maybe I’ll be as sparkly as he is here!”
So I can meet everyone’s expectations. Talented, handsome, smart, kind, better.
But no matter how I might change, I’m still me.
Still Kalim Al-Asim.
And that was something worth celebrating.
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