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lillaydee · 18 hours ago

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Uncoupled - The Beginning

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

June

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… Previously on Uncoupled …

(Sorry, couldn’t help myself – insert dramatic music here, if you prefer. In my head, it’s the L&O SVU two-note since Joel had apparently committed a serious offense)

She pleaded with him to stay, telling him she knew he didn’t really want to leave. Because if he did, he wouldn’t have left something extremely valuable to him with her at the house. Please, Joel, come back to me. I’ll do better, she said, practically grabbing his arm to lay in bed with her, before losing consciousness again.

His thoughts and reminisces of their past life was suddenly interrupted by his phone dinging. Someone had texted him. An unknown number.

‘You sure your girlfriend doesn’t want her husband back, Miller?’

A picture quickly followed. Joel could feel his heart drop to the floor, the picture blurry from his immediate tears, his insides turned ice cold.

Another text. From you, this time.

‘Max just stopped by. Something happened. I’ll explain when you get back, okay?’

And whatever warmth that his body had left just escaped his form altogether.

**********

His phone was knocked out of his hand. It flew across the small room, hitting the wall before dropping on the ground, the screen cracked beyond recognition, darkened.

He turned around to see Jen, who he thought was unconscious, wide awake, glaring daggers at him.

“Why are you still thinking about her? You’re here with me. She cheated on you, Joel. If you could leave me for cheating, why won’t you leave her?”

Joel forced himself to stay calm. If there was one thing Maria and her colleague who was handling his divorce had told the two of you time and again, it was to stay calm. Be patient. Assume everything being done to you a trick to get evidence against you. Make you look bad in the divorce. So yes, he will stay calm. He wasn’t going to give her any ammunition. Not right now.

“How did you know she was cheating on me?”

Her face warped from anger to panic. She dismissively mentioned the picture someone just sent him.

“That was a kiss, which was somehow conveniently captured while it was happening. Weird how someone just happened to stand by to take a picture, wasn’t it? And let’s not forget, you kissed me too. And I’m definitely not cheating on Lily with you.”

He tried his best to get his feelings in check, despite his shaking hands and the turmoil going on in his heart. Even though he doubted you were willingly kissing Max, he couldn’t help the jealousy and anger that was spreading steadily throughout his body, as he was sure you would have felt if someone had sent you a picture of him and Jen kissing. As he was sure you felt when he told you she had kissed him.

“She fucked him, Joel. He told me. He went to the house sometimes when Ellie was napping after school.”

Bingo.

He knew she was lying. How could you have done that? He picked up Ellie, not you. If she was napping, it was either at his classroom or office, your bakery, or at home with him. Never with you alone. Not without him being present too. When you were not with him you were at the bakery, with Tess, Frank and Alice. He doubted they would have let you get away with such stupidity. Even if you went out for deliveries, Tess or Frank was always with you. And more importantly, he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, with Max, of all people. He trusted you with his life, let alone his heart.

He was angry. Angry she had stooped so low, angry that Max had stooped so low. That they were still trying to separate you and him, despite the two of you making it quite clear that you were not interested in reconciliation.

“Joel, honey, please. Can’t you see? She’s no good for you. Look, why don’t you come home with me? We can start over, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll change, I promise. All this,” she said, gesturing to the room, the wires on her chest, the tubes going into her arm, “Had shown me how important you are to me, Joel. Life is short, honey, let’s not throw away 15 years of love for something so silly. Please? I need you right now, Joel. Are you really going to leave me alone after all this?”

Joel didn’t say anything.

“Joel, how could you stay with her after a few months when she did exactly what I did to you? We were together 15 years Joel! Is that how little you feel about me? Don’t you have any love left for me at all?”

Joel remined silent. His mind calculating his next move. He needed to call you. But his phone was shattered and dead on the other side of the room. And try as he might, he couldn’t remember your number. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t bothered remembering any numbers other than Tommy’s and his Mama’s. He could, he supposed, call them and have them warn you, but what if Jen noticed? She wasn’t letting him out of her sight, to the point of stubbornly fighting her anaesthesia.

He could just leave. But knowing that Max and Jen had gone out of their way to find reasons to split the two of you up, he was now worried that she would use his leaving in her condition as a way to turn the divorce around on him. Make him the guilty party. Worse, that it would make you look like the guilty party too. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t chance putting you and Ellie under any additional duress at this point. You were so close. One week.

“Joel, come back. If you do, I’ll give you back what you thought you had lost. Surely that baker and the little orphan are not worth losing a pretty penny?”

His head snapped towards his soon to be ex-wife at this statement.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

**********

You stood in the doorway of Ellie’s room for what felt like hours, watching the little girl sleep, tears falling down your face, wondering how on earth you were going to tell her Joel had left. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe Joel would fall for such a stupid manipulation. Someone took a picture of the kiss. Who? You were not a celebrity. Why would someone stand by in front of your house with a camera to capture a kiss between you and your soon to be ex-husband?

You were suddenly angry. At Joel. He told you Jen kissed him. And as much as you wanted to tear her face off for that, you stood by him. Believed him when he said he didn’t want the kiss. How could he just leave without listening to your half of the story?

You went into your closet to ‘help’ him pack. You were seething. He wanted out? Fine. You’ll help. He didn’t even have to come back for the rest of his stuff. You’ll pay someone to deliver them to him.

But when you opened your closet, you were dumbstruck to find all his belongings, his clothes, his books, his toiletries, were all still where they were before he left. What the heck did he pack into those suitcases?

This wasn’t making any sense.

Your phone dinged. You went to the living room where you left it. Pictures of Joel carrying his suitcases back into his marital home, Jen in tow, flooded your screen. All from Max. You tried Joel’s number again, still straight to voicemail. You texted him again, still undelivered.

Fuck, you were going crazy. You didn’t want to call anyone, lest they, namely Bill, decided to go out on a warpath and tear Joel’s head off. Not when you yourself was still confused and unsure of what was going on.

Max called you. Again and again. You didn’t pick up. At this point, you needed to be very careful with him. You always were before, listening to Maria’s advice. Never picking up, never replying his texts. You cursed your weakness for letting him hug you earlier. Cursed the fact that you felt obliged to let him, that you were, in no small way, mourning the end of the marriage you had with him.

You tried to recall what happened when he came home. But you found yourself encased in the memory of Jen’s smug face, pushing the fact that Joel had decided to go back to her into yours, the flood of emotion you were feeling, the defeat, the confusion, and try as you might, you couldn’t get the image of her wedding ring on her finger out of your mind. Was Joel wearing his? What did he say to you before he left?

He’ll be back for the rest of his stuff.

Fuck. Your head was swimming. You found yourself sitting numbly on your couch, the one you always snuggled with Joel on, laying yourself down and pulling the blanket draped across the back over yourself, Joel’s smell still on it, and closed your eyes, ignoring the stubborn tears that fell as you tried your hardest to fall asleep, hopefully waking up when this nightmare was over.

God, you hoped this was just that. A nightmare.

**********

The sound of his pick-up truck driving up your driveway woke you. You sat up, waiting for whatever may come next. Although groggy, your mind was fresh with today’s happenings. You felt helpless, confused, really not knowing what to expect. The sounds of doors opening and closing caused you to sit frozen. Was there someone with him? You knew that was his truck. But your heard two doors opening and closing. Did he bring Jen back here with him?

The sounds of a key being inserted into the lock and the jiggle that followed was perhaps the loudest sounds you had ever heard in your entire life. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. You felt your tears were readily pooling behind your eyeballs, just ready to be pushed out at a moment’s notice.

The door opened, and Joel walked in, carrying the two suitcases he had brought out with him back in. He saw you immediately, and your tears found their way out uncontrollably. He took long strides and sat next to you, pulling you into his arms, placing you on his lap, hugging you tight, kissing your temple over and over again, telling you he’s sorry, he didn’t have a way of telling you. He had to do it, he couldn’t chance Jen knowing. He’s so sorry.

“Joel, he tricked me, I didn’t want to kiss him, he pretended to come over to bring the rest of my things and he asked for a hug and I was so stupid…”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I believe you. No, baby, don’t cry. I’m not mad at you. I know they planned this. Shh… shh… no baby, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here. I’m sorry I scared you… I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you. Shh… shh…”

He kept coaxing you, comforting you, holding you close, until you calmed down. When you finally pulled back from him, his own eyes were filled with tears, apologizing to you for scaring you, before pulling his phone out, showing you its shattered carcass.

He told you everything that happened at the hospital. He told you why he had to come back and pull what he pulled – he had to, to retrieve something that was invaluable to him. Something he thought he had lost years ago. Something he had not even thought of this past year, already accepting he had lost it, or so he thought.

He pulled a broken piece of thick black string out of his pocket, tied to a worn out penny with a tiny hole drilled into it. You took it from him. The penny was so worn out parts of it were missing, no longer round nor smooth around the edges. You looked at him, confusion in your eyes. He put you through all that, for this?

“My late Papa taught me how to play the guitar. This was the penny he used as a pick. He used to wear this string around his wrist. He only took it off when he wanted to play. When he died, I wore it around mine. Never took it off. I only stopped using it as a pick when it started to fall apart,” he told you, running his thumb on the uneven edge. “It fell off my wrist one day, I just looked down and saw that it wasn’t there anymore. I looked for it for weeks, months, and finally I gave up, figuring it fell somewhere when I was out and about.”

He took it back from you, looked at it for a long time, before continuing.

“Today, I found out she had found it and kept it. Never told me. She knew how much this meant to me. My Mama kept his wedding band, Tommy kept his watch, and I kept this. It’s all I have of his.”

You laid your head on his chest and traced your finger around the penny in his palm. He closed his hand around yours, kissing you on the temple, inhaling your scent in as long as he could.

“She told me that she would give it back to me, if I agree to go back home with her. I wasn’t planning to come home first, but she insisted. I had to, she threatened to destroy this. I couldn’t call you to warn you, I was kind of hoping you would be at the bakery. When I agreed, she took out her wedding band and put it back on. I’m sorry for whatever she said to you. I tried to be as fast as I could, minimize the damage, you know? Took empty suitcases with me to make her believe I was going back. But clearly, she did what she did. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But it’s over, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I just really wanted this back. I wanted to give it to Ellie one day, you know? My Papa taught me the guitar, and I’m teaching Ellie, and I wanted to pass this on to her one day.”

“Like an heirloom?”

“If it’s too presumptive of me…”

“No… it’s perfect.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, the penny in between your palms.

“I love you, Lily, I’ve been in love with you for a while, I didn’t say it because I thought it was too soon, but thinking I could’ve lost you today, I can’t hold it in anymore. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Ellie. I’m so sorry. Please understand, I didn’t mean to scare you like that, much less hurt you. Please.”

He held your forehead close to his own, begging you to forgive him. You kissed him in response, telling him you forgave him, and asked that he forgave you too. He told you there was nothing for him to forgive, lifting you up and taking you to bed, where he proved to you again and again that his love was only for you, and that he was never leaving you as long as he was breathing.

As he held you close in his arms that night, you told him you loved him too.

**********

Joel went over to the new neighbour’s house the next morning before school and came back with a huge smile on his face. He told you to expect some texts from them, since his phone was still out of commission. He took Ellie’s phone with him to school just so you had a way of calling him if needed, the little girl thankfully clueless about yesterday’s drama.

You received a video from the young man down the street, immediately going to Joel’s classroom to show him. He took you to the staff common room, where Lucy was idly going through her phone, a cup of noodle in her hand. She looked a bit uneasy seeing you there but managed a smile regardless. Joel sat next to her, asking her what she was doing in front of his house the day before.

“What? I wasn’t in front of your house. I don’t know where you live,” she said, rather defensively.

He showed her the video in return, a security camera the young men had installed on their driveway, where she could clearly be seen standing just off your driveway with her phone in hand.

Her face turned chalk white.

“Listen, remember the Christmas concert? When you kissed me against my will? That was sexual harassment, Lucy, in case you didn’t know. I haven’t told anyone about it, didn’t want to ruin your career or anything, but I will, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t kiss you at the Christmas concert,” she attempted, panic surrounding her. She didn’t think of it that way, obviously.

“I saw it, I was there. I can talk too,” you quickly supplied.

Lucy deflated. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and told Joel that Jen had approached her. She was looking for Joel one day and heard Lucy telling another teacher about her unrequited crush on Joel and her lame attempts to forget him – going after the new Maths teacher hoping that she could forget Joel. It wasn’t working. Jen offered a very lucrative payment if she would just help Max out with the picture. She figured, why not? If she couldn’t have him, the least she could do was make sure you couldn’t have him either, make a few bucks in the process. So she went to your place at the agreed time, took some pictures and sent them to Max.

She agreed to give a statement to Maria in case Max tried to use the picture against you in the divorce, and apologized for the trouble she may have caused, looking very ashamed of herself. Joel quickly asked her to go to his classroom with the two of you so you could arrange a Zoom session with Maria for the statement. The sooner the better.

Just as the three of you left the common room, you ran into Jen, who had come in looking for Joel, stomping her way towards the common room. Her initially indignant face snapped shut the moment Lucy came out, knowing that she had talked.

She took a deep breath, tried to put on a smile and stepped closer to Joel, who immediately pulled you behind him, just in case.

“You said you would come back to me.”

“No, I said I would go home with you, and I did. I didn’t say I would stay married to you.”

“You drugged me, stole my belonging and left me to die!” her perfect teeth were so gritted at this point you could hear them squeak.

You could see why Joel said she was not as beautiful as you thought she was. She looked like a deranged Barbie. Even Lucy was taken aback.

“No, I gave you your prescribed medication, took my belonging, and left when you fell asleep.”

“And you,” she snarled at Lucy, making the leggy blonde take a step back, “You owe me ten thousand dollars!”

“Really? For what?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

Jen made to grab at you, but Joel stopped her, “Do it, and I will take everything you have with me,” he said, “I’ve been nice, all I ask is you leave us alone. But do this, push my patience, and you will see just how vengeful I can get. Try me, Jen.”

He looked so serious, Jen shrunk back. Never in all the years she had known him had she ever seen him this angry. It actually scared her. It suddenly occurred to her he had never snapped in all the years she had known him, not even when he caught her cheating on him, and now, when the safety of the woman he loved was threatened, he might actually hit his limit.

She stared at him for a while, before finally coming to her senses. She shook her head in defeat, turned around and left.

**********

You walked out of the meeting room with Maria, arms around each other, thanking her for coming in to settle this during her maternity leave. She insisted, really. You would have been fine if one of her associates had come in in her stead. No, we’re sisters now. Sisters help each other, she assured you.

The door to the meeting room opposite yours opened, and Joel walked out, immediately coming to you and Maria, giving her a kiss on the cheek and hugging her before taking you into his arms, both of you releasing thankful breaths.

Honestly, the two of you had never felt lighter or happier. It’s all over. Papers were willingly signed, no drama.

Max and Jen finally accepted defeat, realizing that you and Joel were never going back to them. Max even apologized, actually cooperating throughout the entire process. He knew he was defeated when Joel seemed unphased by the picture of the kiss – he had to admit that Joel was a bigger man than he was – he knew he wouldn’t have accepted it if it were him. And ultimately, he accepted that Joel really did love you for who you were, unlike him. Despite her cooperation, Jen didn’t speak to you or Joel again without her lawyer present, worried Joel would actually stay true to his words and take her to the cleaners.

The three of you walked into the bakery where everyone was waiting, Jackson happily cooing in his Uncle Bill’s arms, Ellie making funny faces at him. There was no problem finding willing babysitters in this family, Frank had said.

The family toasted the happy occasion, and the possibility of many more to come. Joel held you in one arm, Ellie in the other, looking so content and happy he could burst. He gave Ellie a slobbery kiss and turned to give you one, Ellie immediately making a face and climbing down from his hold.

“God, they’re worse than my parents!”

**********

“Joel!”

Hmm?

“Joel! Wake up!”

Joel opened one eye, feeling way too comfortable to open both. He had you in his arms, his bed all warm, his face full of your smell.

“Joel!”

“What?”

“Wake up!”

He lifted his head up, looked at the alarm next to your side of the bed. It’s 5 am.

“What are you doing up? You have school in a few hours. Go back to sleep. First day of big girl school! Yay!” he said sleepily, before burying his face in your hair again.

“Joel! Where’s your wife?”

What? He’s holding you. You’re right…

He lifted his head and looked at you. Only it wasn’t you he was hugging. It was your pillow, and that darned furry blanket his Mama had knitted for you that you suddenly couldn’t live without.

He shot up. Ellie was looking at him, judgment in her eyes, arms crossed on her chest.

“Her car is gone. I thought I heard someone leave. I thought she wasn’t supposed to go to the bakery today.”

“She wasn’t. She hasn’t since last week.”

He leapt out of bed and knocked on the guest bedroom. Anita answered, eyes bleary from sleep.

“Lily’s gone,” Joel shouted at her, getting dressed as fast as he could, almost falling face first into the closet door trying to get his jeans on. “Ellie! Go back to bed. Mama, watch her will you?”

“No, I’m going with you,” Ellie protested, already pulling her jacket on. Anita joined her, magically dressed, ridding the crusts in her eyes.

Joel didn’t even want to stop to protest. He grabbed his keys and ran out, peeling out as soon as Anita buckled Ellie in from her seat. His phone rang just as he pulled in behind the bakery, parked right in between your car and Tess’s, almost ramming into Frank’s. He jumped out, almost bulldozing Tess over as she opened the service door for him.

“I was just calling…” she started, giving up as he ran in to find you. “She’s nesting,” she told Anita, “In front of the oven,” she pulled Ellie in for a hug, shutting the door behind her.

You were on all fours in front of the oven, watching the croissants rise, breathing in through your nose, releasing through your mouth, sweating profusely. Frank sat next to you, breathing with you.

Joel squatted next to you, choosing his words carefully.

“Baby, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in bed, resting.”

“I’m fine, I just wanted to make sure the croissants are oohhh!!!” your body stiffened, and your breathing quickened, sweat pooling on your forehead.

Joel froze.

“Erm, sweetie, I think your wife’s in labour,” Anita said, immediately getting behind you to rub your back.

“What? She’s not due for another week!”

“Babies do come early, sweetie. Lily, honey, when did your contractions start?”

You calmed down a little, “Yesterday morning,” you told her.

Joel fell on his ass. “Why didn’t you tell me? You seemed fine… I thought…”

“It wasn’t that strong… I thought it was just those Braxton thingies. I’m fine. Ooooh!!!”

“Okay, sweetie, that’s far too close for comfort. Hospital, now!” Frank said, helping you up.

“No, the croissants…”

“The croissants will be fine. Come on, now,” Tess chimed in, helping Frank get you up.

“But Ellie’s first day of school…”

“She’ll be fine, honey, that’s what I’m here for,” Anita said, helping you walk out to Joel’s truck.

Ellie came to hug you, trying hard not to let you see her worries. She was so scared for you, but excited to meet her little brother or sister.

“I’m so sorry I can’t send you to school today, Bellie,” you told her, hugging her tight. “Anita, my bag, in my trunk.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank said, shutting your trunk, your bag and pillow in his hands. He placed them in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck.

“I love you Beans, you can do this, okay? Love you so much,” Ellie said, not letting you go.

“I’ll take her to the hospital after school. I’ll go over after she’s settled. Take some of Joel’s stuff with me,” Anita told you, gently peeling Ellie off you, giving you a hug as well, telling you she will see you soon. Tess and Frank did the same, giving you kisses. They’ll take turns visiting later, they told you. They’ll call everyone.

Okay, you nodded, as Frank helped buckle you in and closed the door for you. Okay, you’re all set.

Except, the driver, your husband, your rock, was not there.

They found him still sitting, frozen in place in front of the oven, a panicked look on his face. It took a few minutes of coaxing from Anita to get him to calm down and finally snapping back into reality before running out to you, helping you breathe through another contraction. He hugged you, kissed you, apologizing for panicking, before putting the gear in reverse and taking you to the hospital.

**********

It had been quite a ride. During those first few weeks after he left Jen, Joel often found himself wishing that the 15 years he was with Jen didn’t happen. They brought him to where he was then, a broken, defeated man at 30, single for the first time in his adult life, not knowing where life would take him, wondering if he would ever be happy again.

But right now, as he watched his brand new BabyGirl feed, he knew everything that had happened, happened for a reason. Never in his life did he ever think he could be this happy. No amount of service, kisses, hugs, money, even love, could ever repay his debt to you for how happy he was at this very moment.

Things were surprisingly calm after the divorces were finalized.

The bakery was doing well. Business picked up, and you ended up hiring two more staff to help with the demand.

Joel proposed to you after only six months. The two of you married at City Hall, with only the usual suspects in attendance. Benny even made a surprise appearance. Your reception was a potluck barbeque in your now gorgeous backyard. Joel rented a small cabin in the mountains for your honeymoon. There was no extravagance, no over the top ceremonies. Just the people you loved, celebrating the two of you.

Your house was now devoid of the ugly carpeting you hated. And Joel stripped and repainted the kitchen cabinetry to make your kitchen look brand new again.

It’s home.

Lucy transferred to another district, embarrassed at the way she had been acting throughout that year, opting to start anew in a brand new place.

Max accepted a job overseas, selling his house, and in a surprising move, gave you half of the profits, his way of apologizing for treating you so badly over the years. He actually shook Joel’s hand, congratulating the two of you on your marriage, wishing both of you well. He texted you a congratulations when he found out the two of you were expecting.

Jen left the city soon after the divorce. Last you heard she was somewhere in Europe, living as one of those van-lifers. She had a travel blog, apparently, not that you or Joel ever saw the blog. She had never contacted you or Joel again.

A soft knock came from the door. Anita came in, a nervous Ellie following behind. Her little face lit up as she saw your new daughter. Joel lifted her up and hugged her tightly, asking her if she was ready to meet her sister. She nodded excitedly. Joel placed her next to you in bed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. You placed your now sleeping daughter in her waiting arms, and Ellie carefully held the tiny little girl, hand supporting her neck and head, just as she had practiced at home.

“Hi Sarah,” she said to the sleeping tot. “I’m your big sister, Ellie.”

She gave her sister gentle kisses, and little Sarah opened her eyes slightly to look at her big sister, before closing them again, sleeping contentedly in her arms.

“Look over here, everyone,” Anita said softly, “Smile!” and snapped the first official picture of the new Millers.

Joel kissed you on your forehead, his arm stretching protectively around his ladies. He knew right there and then that he would suffer through those 15 years over and over again if he had to, knowing that it would bring him here, to his very own little piece of heaven.

THE END

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #roommate Joel Miller

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cailinsblog · 12 hours ago

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Caring for You | macklin Celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

So for some reason it won’t let me put any of my new story’s to my masterlist so I’m sorry about that🙏🏻🙏🏻

Y/N sniffled miserably from her spot on the couch, bundled up in a mountain of blankets. A box of tissues sat beside her, along with an untouched cup of tea Macklin had made before he left for practice. She felt like a total mess—her nose was red, her throat was sore, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

It had started with a tickle in her throat a couple of days ago, but she’d brushed it off. Now, it was a full-blown cold, and all she wanted was to sleep it off and hope Macklin wouldn’t fuss too much when he got home.

But, of course, Macklin did fuss.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Y/N from her groggy haze. Macklin stepped inside, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder and his cheeks still pink from the cold outside. His smile immediately turned into a look of concern when he saw her curled up on the couch, looking pale and tired.

“Y/N?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and rushing over to her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

He crouched down beside her, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up! Why didn’t you call me? You should’ve told me you were feeling this bad!”

“It’s just a cold, Mack,” she said, offering a weak smile. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated, his brows knitting together. “You’re never a bother, Y/N. I don’t care if I’m on the ice or on the moon—you call me if you need anything, okay?”

Before she could protest, Macklin stood up, determination in his eyes. “Alright, first things first. You’re staying right here. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Mack, you really don’t have to—”

“I do have to,” he insisted, already heading toward the kitchen. “You’re my girlfriend, and I’m not letting you suffer alone.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile despite how awful she felt. Macklin was always so thoughtful, and she knew there was no stopping him when he got into caretaker mode.

He returned a few minutes later with a tray holding a fresh cup of tea, a bowl of soup he’d quickly heated up, and a cold compress. “Here we go,” he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Tea to soothe your throat, soup to help you feel better, and this,”—he gently placed the compress on her forehead—“to bring down your fever.”

Y/N reached for the tea, but Macklin beat her to it, carefully holding the cup to her lips. “Let me,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to spill it on yourself.”

She took a small sip, the warmth soothing her scratchy throat. “You’re too good to me, Mack,” she murmured.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, sitting down beside her and tucking the blankets more snugly around her.

The rest of the afternoon passed with Macklin fussing over her like a mother hen. He kept her hydrated, made sure she took her medicine, and even queued up her favorite rom-coms to distract her. At one point, he disappeared into the bedroom and came back wearing his favorite oversized hoodie—the one she always stole.

“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing weakly.

“Sacrificing my hoodie to the cause,” he said dramatically, pulling it off and helping her into it. “This is scientifically proven to make you feel better.”

“You’re such a dork,” she said, her voice thick with affection.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he replied, kissing her temple.

As the evening wore on, Y/N started to feel a little better, thanks to Macklin’s TLC. He sat beside her on the couch, her head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, looking up at him.

Macklin shook his head, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I’ll always take care of you. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you, Mack.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you more.”

The two of them stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. And while Y/N still had a ways to go before she was fully recovered, she knew she’d never felt more cared for or loved in her life.

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #fanfic #macklin celebrini #macklin celebrini x reader #san jose sharks #san jose #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x oc #nhl x you #macklin celebrini x oc

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coffee-and-geto · 1 month ago

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LET ME WARM YOU UP

summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?

cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).

wc: 721

When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.

Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.

“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”

Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?

Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.

He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.

The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.

“Will that be all, young man?”

Satoru nods.

“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”

A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”

Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.

He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.

He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.

With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.

“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.

You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.

“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.

“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”

He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.

Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.

Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.

“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”

“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”

Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.

a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

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osaemu · 1 year ago

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GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone.

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically.

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short.

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.”

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties.

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks.

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you.

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below.

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him.

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth.

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling.

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible.

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear.

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer.

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states.

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump.

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.”

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!

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tteokdoroki · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ 💎 JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★ about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner.

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive.

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void.

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs.

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present.

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?”

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown.

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing, the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.”

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.”

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!”

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.”

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father.

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.”

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal.

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.”

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!”

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.”

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes.

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.”

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl.

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?”

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!”

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!”

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you.

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different —

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft.

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?”

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.”

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply.

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss.

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?”

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl.

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the physical version of a precious memory.

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!”

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot.

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him. “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper? y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.”

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,” sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.”

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i?

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.”

“here, isn’t he cute.”

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!”

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!”

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,” though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air. “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.”

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face.

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course )

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before.

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad!

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.”

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill.

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.”

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel.

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip?

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

3K notes · View notes

pprodsuga · 11 months ago

Text

tides of regret | heeseung

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

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

deep cuts: #1

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

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

masterlist

Incheon feels lonely at three in the morning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “I wore layers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long was I out?”

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

“Sorry for sleeping on you,” Jake apologizes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you insist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

“Chicken or beef?”

Heeseung looks at you, expecting an answer.

“Hm?”

He laughs softly. “Chicken or beef?”

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

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

“Beef.” You clear your throat.

“Beef it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I guess they can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can already hear Jake whining about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

“That’s not fair,” Jake huffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” Sunoo asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still love books?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you talk to your college friends often?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, you sound perfect already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How else am I going to blackmail you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What makes you say that?”

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

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

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

“Sweet girl,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard you that night,” Sunghoon confesses.

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

There’s a beat of silence.

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did the guys think?”

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

“Did his opinion change?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“Wow…I didn’t know Jay said that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But do you want that?”

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

Satisfied with your answer, Sunghoon nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

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

You stand there, dumbfounded. “Huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon laughs and you know what he means.

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

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

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

You shiver. “Me too.”

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did you leave me?”

His heart shatters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really hurt me.”

He glances down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Under the covers, silly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung laughs. “That you are.”

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We could always order in. I’ll pay.”

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

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

“I’m assuming you two talked?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Both of us knew we needed our beauty sleep before dealing with the six of you asking us questions,” Heeseung adds. “But for your information, we made up. We still have things to figure out, but we’re back to being friends.”

“Hopefully more than that,” Jungwon coughs behind his coffee. He merely smiles when Heeseung looks in his direction.

“I think you two should spend the rest of the day by yourselves,” Jay suggests. “We can either meet up for dinner or whenever we have to check out.”

“I second that,” Sunoo agrees. “You two clearly need to talk.”

“I wanted to go shopping with Y/N again,” Riki says with a frown. Jake presumably knocks his shin with Riki’s, who clears his throat. “But you two should totally hang out without us.”

“I think we might,” Heeseung says, holding his hand out for you to take. He stands from his seat and encourages you to stand as well, leading you away from the table. “Thanks for the breakfast, Jay!”

“I’m choosing to be the bigger person because Y/N’s been through enough,” Jay mutters when Heeseung is out of hearshot, making the table laugh.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“You know, I think the reason why I had such a hard time reaching out was because we’d never gotten into something that serious before,” Heeseung admits. The gelato in your hand isn’t as good as you remember it, but it does the job to cool you down on a particularly warm afternoon.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when we were kids and how hard it was for me to talk to you about anything that was action movies or superheroes?”

“God, you and your Superman cape from fourth grade,” you snort. “You wore that thing to school everyday. Your dad had to wash it every night otherwise you’d refuse to go to sleep.” Heeseung shuts his eyes at the memory.

“You were the only person I felt comfortable pouring my heart out to, you know. You were always the first person I called when I needed someone to talk to, but then I was the reason why you got hurt…I think part of me didn’t know if I was allowed to reach out to you.

“It’s a stupid excuse, I know. But when I heard you were coming back to Seoul a few weeks before you did, I couldn’t help but think about how many times I could’ve texted you.”

“Yeah, you could’ve.” Heeseung merely nods at your agreement. “We’ve been through a lot over the years, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“I just wish I had come to this conclusion when it happened. I was so caught up in graduating and focusing on how I felt that I didn’t consider how you must’ve been dealing with all of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so selfish in my life.”

“I think the time you refused to let me be friends with Jake because you said you needed friends aside from me was your second most selfish moment.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Quit it. I was thirteen, okay?”

Neither of you particularly care to do any sightseeing today. It feels nice to walk side-by-side without the company of your other friends. The juxtaposition of how you felt towards the beginning of this trip compared to how relaxed you feel surprises you a tenfold, but you suppose that comes with genuine apologies and forgiveness.

You’re willing to admit Heeseung looks criminally good in black jeans and a striped button down. He wears his clothes so effortlessly yet still looks like he could’ve taken his wardrobe from a magazine. You’ve always found it a bit unfair that Heeseung always manages to look so cool without trying too hard.

“You’re staring,” he mutters, looking at you from the corner of his eye as the two of you walk down a cobblestone street.

“I’m not,” you lie. You turn your head to avoid his gaze, but Heeseung thinks he likes seeing you this shy. It’s new territory for him, one that he wants to explore.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“Why did you forgive me so quickly?” Heeseung asks. “I appreciate it, I really do, but a big part of me feels like I don’t deserve that just yet.”

It takes you a while to answer. Why did you forgive him as fast as you did? For a week and a half, being in close quarters with Heeseung made you feel nothing but anxious and on edge, so why were you able to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him?

“I’ve always held onto the idea that you’re a good person,” you begin. “I’ve always admired that you intend to care for the people you love and make them feel like they have a place in your life. You’ve always made me feel safe, like I could run to you when things got too hard.

“What you did was in poor taste, sure, but making bad decisions doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I know you, Hee. I know how you get when you’re faced with a difficult choice and how long it takes for you to come around. I was justifiably hurt but I think a part of me always knew you’d fix it somehow.”

“I wish I could feel deserving of that kind of forgiveness.”

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t feel like what I’m saying is true. I’ll admit that I shocked myself with how quickly I let my guard down with you…but you’re Heeseung. You've been my best friend since the first grade and you’re the boy I happen to have a really big crush on.”

Heeseung bites his lips at your confession, willing himself not to be too forward as to kiss you in the middle of the street. He sees your bravery and the way you’ve put your heart directly in the palm of his hand, acting out of vulnerability even though the both of you knew he hurt you once before.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, Heeseung grabs your hands and locks his fingers with yours, squeezing three times to tell you he loves you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The afternoon comes and goes with little to no plan. Heeseung’s a bit worried that he hasn’t heard anything from the boys and he’s rendered shocked that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let the day take you where it may instead of finding the next spot to visit.

As if on cue, Jay texts him with plans for the evening.

jjongcaprio: 20:00, Pétrelle. It’s a five minute walk from the hotel

jjongcaprio: I made reservations for you and Y/N tonight. Don’t worry about me and the boys, just take her out on a romantic date

jjongcaprio: The bill’s covered. The reservation’s under your name btw

heeseung: bro i cannot ask you to do this

jjongcaprio: You don’t have to. You and I both know Y/N deserves to be wined and dined

jjongcaprio: Plus I saw you looking at a few restaurants when we were on the train. I managed to pull some strings for you and got a last minute reservation for tonight

heeseung: thank you jay…i really don’t know what i’d do without you

jjongcaprio: It’s really not a problem, bro. Promise me that you’ll try to be happy with her. The guys and I are rooting for you two

“So,” Heeseung clears his throat as he looks up from his phone, “I think you and I should go out for dinner.”

“Where are you thinking of going? I can text the others and see if they’re done sightseeing, or whatever it is they’re doing.”

“I mean just us two.” He stands awkwardly when you’ve turned your attention to him, his feet planted on the sidewalk beneath him as if that’ll help steady his beating heart.

“Like a date?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “Like a date. I, Heeseung, am asking you out on a date. Tonight. At eight.”

“I, Y/N, would love to go on a date with you. At eight.”

The twinkle in your eye and your coy nature makes him feel like a teenager again. He leads you into the hotel and walks you to your door before stepping back as you step inside.

“We’ve got an hour and a half before we need to leave. I’ll come by and then we can walk together. The restaurant is only a five minute walk, so you can wear those new heels I know you feel guilty buying.”

“They’re really pretty though,” you rationalize.

Heeseung nods. “Gorgeous, actually. Maybe you’ll be as tall as me if you wear them.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Heeseung bites his bottom lip as you disappear behind the door, locking eyes with you until you’re completely out of sight. Flirting with you like this is a completely new phenomenon for him. He’s only daydreamed about what you might say if he said something a little too suggestive or how you might act if he dedicated a wink in your direction. Heeseung had never considered that he’d be the one flustered, cheeks reddening to the point where he starts to feel shy.

His nerves are endless as he picks out an outfit for tonight. Heeseung sends a quick text to his parents, who had pressured him into bringing nice clothes for a fancy dinner, and spends a few minutes updating them on the events of the past few days. His mother is pleased, to put it lightly, and sends a handful of emoticons to display her happiness. His father tells him words of encouragement before making Heeseung promise to bring you for dinner as his girlfriend, not just his best friend.

With the last touch of his cologne, Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror and tries not to think too hard about how he looks. You’re Y/N, his best friend since he can remember, and you’ve seen him with snot dripping from his nose.

“I look fine,” he says to himself in the mirror. “Y/N will like the look because your mom picked it out and we know those two agree on everything. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Heeseung’s only regret is he doesn’t have a bouquet of flowers to present you with as he makes his way to your hotel room. He wipes his palms on his trousers and takes a deep breath before knocking on your door.

When it opens, he’s met with the sight of you in a short black dress that hugs your hips to accentuate your body. The dress itself is an elegant, spaghetti strap number with a flattering neckline paired with jewelry that makes your skin appear to be glowing. Your heels match well with the dress you’ve chosen, so much so that Heeseung’s jaw drops when his eyes rake over your body.

“Wow,” he mutters. “Just…wow.”

“I’m not used to you being speechless,” you say mildly, closing the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous,” he sputters. “I shouldn’t be seen with you tonight.”

“You’re dramatic, Hee.” You give him a once over and Heeseung thinks he wouldn’t mind you checking him out as you please. “You look handsome as ever.”

He beams at the compliment and holds his arm out for you.

“Shall we?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows the type of person you are and what you value, yet he still renders himself shocked when you allow him to take control of the evening. He knows you don’t need to have the expensive consequences that come with a first date or to be sipping the most luxurious wine to be happy, but Heeseung can’t help but feel like you deserve to feel as elegant as you look every once in a while.

The host leads the two of you to a table with the most gorgeous view of the Parisian scenery. The twinkling stars paired with the dimly lit restaurant adds a romantic touch to the evening. Heeseung mentally thanks Jay for preparing wine recommendations so neither of you have to think too much about it.

For a moment, he’s worried that he’s reached too far out of his depth. The fanciest thing Heeseung has ever done with you is eat ramen after prom in your best outfits because you both came to the conclusion that prom should be spent with someone you actually like. It’s funny in hindsight when he thinks about it now.

You look so beautiful like this, allowing yourself to be taken care of by him. Talking to you over the table feels like you’re back in Korea before all that transpired. The food is impeccable and Heeseung thanks his lucky stars that he and Jay got it right. You sing praises left and right.

Dinner ends much quicker than he’d like as the two of you finish dessert. The waiter tells him the bill has been taken care of and Heeseung sits in his seat awkwardly as you look out the window to see the view from outside. But he hears the live band in the background and sees a few older couples slow dancing from where he sits and makes up his mind.

“Do you want to dance?”

You pull your attention to him. For a moment, he thinks he’s asked the most absurd question known to man when he recalls all the times you refused to make a home on the dance floor until you’ve gotten at least four drinks in your system.

You surprise him.

“I’d love to, Hee.”

The room disappears when he leads you to the dance floor. He mimics the other dancers and takes the lead, swaying your bodies back and forth to the melody of the music. You smell of vanilla and cinnamon, a scent so distinctly you that it makes him grin like a man in love.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say against his neck. “I won’t lie when I say I feel like a princess.”

“That’s because you are a princess,” Heeseung says, kissing the top of your head. “You deserve to be treated like one.”

“I can’t believe you pulled this off so quickly. Don’t restaurants like these require reservations?”

He chuckles nervously. “About that…Jay helped me with the details. I was looking up restaurants to take you to if I got the chance before our trip ended. I guess he saw the list and chose the most romantic one out of the bunch.”

“I owe Jay a thank you.”

“We both do.”

“I feel lucky to have people in my life who care about me this much,” you say. “I’m so happy you’re back in my life.”

“I’m happy to be in it.” Heeseung squeezes your waist. “Deep down, it’s always been you that I’ve loved. There’s not a single person who makes me feel the way you do.”

“Yeah?”

You feel him nod. “I’ll say it until you believe me. I’ll even yell it in this restaurant right now.”

“Please don’t,” you laugh. “I believe you.”

The sound of the melody overtakes the conversation. You feel Heeseung’s steady heartbeat as he expertly moves your bodies together on the dance floor. When you close your eyes, you think of this moment and how badly you want to commit it to memory, no longer in anguish over the tribulations of the past year. It feels nice to let go of your worries, even better that you have Heeseung back.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmurs under his breath. You pull your head back.

“Then you should kiss me.”

Heeseung wastes no time and pulls you into him, one arm around your waist and the other behind your neck. His mouth finds yours when he decides he loves the taste of red wine on your lips. It feels poetic to be kissing you for the first time as you’re both dressed to the nines in the middle of Paris. To him, kissing you feels like a breath of fresh air and the start of something new. For you, kissing him feels like coming home.

When he pulls back, you search for his eyes.

“Take me back to the hotel,” you whisper.

Heeseung feels his heart drop.

“I’m sorry. We can go back now.”

You grip the collar of his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt when he moves. It’s only then that Heeseung sees the want in your eyes and the pure lust that clouds your pupils.

“Take me back to the hotel.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

By the time your elevator reaches your floor, Heeseung’s dress shirt is completely unbuttoned with his toned chest exposed. You’re barely able to detach yourself from his mouth when he pushes you out of the contraption. Your hand reaches for his as you pull him towards your room, digging through your purse when you feel Heeseung’s lips on the back of your neck.

“You look sexy in my jacket,” he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to your skin.

“L-Let me find the key.”

“So sexy.” His hands slide up the side of your body until he grips your waist.

When the door opens, you pull Heeseung inside with you and lock it shut before pushing his dress shirt off of his body, exposing his muscular build and broad shoulders. You aren’t shy about hiding your lust, gazing all over his chest and abdomen as you feel your core drip with arousal.

“I like it when you look at me like that,” Heeseung says. He reaches for your hand and places it on his chest. You take the liberty to glide your nails down his abdomen, feeling the way he tenses underneath your touch.

“I’m really wet,” you say as you eye the tent that has grown in Heeseung’s pants.

“Are you?” he asks. “You won’t mind if I check?”

You shake your head and Heeseung takes that as a green light, his hands finding the soft fabric of your dress before pushing his hand underneath it. He whimpers when his fingers come in contact with your wet lips. It’s adorable, the way you push yourself against him to chase his lips while he fingers smear your wetness across the fabric of your panties.

“Bed,” you mumble against his lips.

He follows where you pull him, loving the way you take control when you push him onto the mattress. Heeseung distracts himself to catch his breath from the overwhelming sense of pleasure to realize that you’ve started to undo his belt buckle and take his hard cock out of his pants.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want your cock in my mouth,” you plead, looking him in the eye. “Please let me.”

You sit politely on your knees as you unbuckle Heeseung’s pants. His chest rises and falls in anticipation and he looks down at you to see that your mouth is watering at the sight of him.

He’s already fully hard; he has been since you started unbuttoning his shirt in the elevator. You spit directly onto the tip of his cock and he bites his lip at the sudden contact before watching as you swipe your hand up and down himself.

Heeseung doesn’t want to think about how you learned to do what you’re doing to him. He doesn’t want to think about the boys you’ve kissed or the people who got to see you like this before. What he does know, however, is he’s the only person from here on out who will see you on your knees if he can help it.

Your mouth envelopes the head and Heeseung emits a short grunt. The tension between you two begins to slowly dissipate as you fit more of his cock inside of your mouth. Your tongue expertly traces every ridge and vein as you push your throat down onto him, causing Heeseung to put his palms on the mattress and throw his head back.

You hum around him when he moans. He’s itching to put his hand behind your head but refuses the idea, letting you set your own pace. Heeseung watches as you switch your angle, sitting up to rest on your knees to push your head further down on him. He witnessed as you spread your legs, a choked moan coming from his throat in conjunction with a particular gag from your mouth.

There’s spit everywhere. It’s trailing down your lips and connecting to his cock when you pull yourself from his body. It’s seeping to his pants and he’s about to speak up when your motion attaches itself to his sensitive balls, licking at its warmth while your hand strokes him from atop.

“That’s it. Fuuuuck.”

He bucks his hips once and curses. Heeseung feels your mouth envelop one of his balls, the pressure of your mouth around it making him feel a kind of euphoria he didn’t know was possible. Your mouth moves to the other to give it the same treatment before retreating back to his cock. This time, your hand massages him from below as you suck on him.

When you look up at him and wink, he decides enough is enough.

“Baby,” Heeseung pants, attempting to push your head off of him. He thinks it’s so sexy that you’re turned on while giving him a blowjob. “Baby, please stop. I don’t wanna come yet.”

You oblige and take your mouth off of him with a popping sound. You sit back and Heeseung stares at you through drooping eyelids in pure shock and amazement at how you’ve managed to pull him to a near orgasm as quickly as you did.

“Come here,” he beckons with his fingers.

He attaches his mouth to yours and pushes his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring the warm, wet walls you have to offer. Heeseung decides that he loves the feeling of your tongue against his and lets you suck on the muscle.

You take your dress off to reveal sheer panties with nothing else on. Heeseung’s jaw drops at your beauty, but he also cannot believe how sexy his best friend’s body is. To him, you were sculpted from the hands of Aphrodite herself with great love and care. And it’s all for him.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, hovering over your body to press kisses to the valley of your chest. You let his hands roam and spread your legs to make room for him.

Heeseung’s head travels back to your chest and you watch as he envelops your right nipple in his mouth. “Your tits are just perfect.”

He makes a show out of it, hands cupping your breasts to massage them as his mouth works on you. He pushes your tits together and shoves his face between them, inhaling your scent while his tongue gathers whatever taste your body gives him. Heeseung moves to your left nipple and uses his tongue to flick the hardened bud over and over again until you’re arching your chest into his mouth.

He grinds himself into your core with his pants still loose around his legs. It brings a moan out of your throat and he swallows it whole with his lips pressed firmly against yours. The friction feels delicious with the fabric of your panties against the hardness of Heeseung’s cock. He grinds against you with the help of your hips rolling into his, your natural wetness coating his cock in your essence.

Heeseung moves his head to kiss your jawline, moving his mouth all over the expanse of your neck until he kisses right below your earlobe. You let out a particularly loud moan when he does, and Heeseung curses.

“Shit. Yeah baby, make those sounds for me. Let me hear your pretty moans.”

His mouth attacks the area again and you aren’t shy about it. Your hands tangle in his hair as he kisses your neck and grinds his cock against the wet panties, which have by now molded to the shape of your pussy.

Heeseung groans at the feeling of a particularly wet gush and lifts his hips enough to elicit a whimper out of your mouth. He experimentally lifts his hips again to align himself with you as he did before. The pressure must feel so good because your mouth hangs open with your eyes boring into his.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Does my baby feel good?” You can only nod and he doesn’t blame you. “That’s a good baby. Fuck, you’re so wet, it’s driving me crazy.”

Heeseung feels your legs wrap around him and the way your heel pushes his lower back into your core. He takes the hint and quickens his pace, wanting nothing more than to see you come for him.

“You gotta come for me now, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You deserve to come. Won’t you do that for me?”

Heeseung is sure that he’s never seen or heard anything more erotic compared to the vision of watching you come. Your mouth opens with breathy moans as you focus on your pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut as if you’re trying to savor the moment in your mind.

“Atta girl,” Heeseung praises when your hips grind into his. He keeps himself still and lets your body take over.

You eventually come down and realize Heeseung has yet to come, but that’s the last thing on his mind. He sinks his body down to come face-to-face with your crotch and licks the come off of the soiled fabric of your panties. The sheerness gives him a sneak peek at your pussy, and he groans when he licks a slow, fat strip up your slit.

“You taste so fucking delicious, baby.” He licks at you again, faster this time. “Tastes like milk and honey.”

Heeseung kisses your wet panties over and over again, his soft lips providing jolts of pleasure. His hands roam around the soft flesh of your thighs and squeezes them as if he remembers you’re all his to touch. The feeling is one you want to commit to memory, but it seems like Heeseung knows your mind is working overtime because he reaches his hand to find yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

You let his hand go when he pulls it from you to slide the useless barrier down your legs and to undo the straps of your heels. He takes great care to kiss your skin tenderly, starting by your ankle and making his way down just shy of where you need him the most. Heeseung repeats the process on the other leg until he comes face to face with your glistening core, licking his lips as if he doesn’t know where to start.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your clit.

He repeats the motion, kissing your folds like they’re delicate antiquities that need to be handled with the utmost care. His lips become covered with your essence; he feels you squirm underneath him and uses the expanse of his palms to gently pry your legs open for him, soothing the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Heeseung tentatively licks your slit and decides he loves the sound of your moans when he has his mouth on you. He does it again, dragging his tongue to feel every ridge and crevice that he’s yet to explore. His mouth feels like a warm comfort with the slow pace he sets, licking you as if he’s trying to tell you how much he loves you without saying it.

“You taste divine.”

You look down below to see his hair covering his eyes and brush it away with your hands. Heeseung looks right into your soul and you feel your heart clench, causing you to roll your hips into his face. He merely buries his nose close to you until he bumps your clit with the tip, pushing his wet muscle into you deeper.

When your moans get lighter and your breathy sounds are the only audible thing in the room aside from his own moans. You open your eyes to see Heeseung humping the mattress below you. The sight is so erotic that you can’t help but let out a loud whine at the thought of Heeseung pleasuring himself while pleasuring you.

He brings his fingers to your pussy and sways his fingers back and forth until he foregoes his slow pace, favoring a faster one. He abuses your swollen clit while you can only lay there and watch him play with you. Heeseung expertly inserts his middle finger into your seeping hole and bites his lip to concentrate on getting you to come again.

“I need it,” he confesses, bringing his mouth to lick you as he adds another finger. “I need you to come for me again, baby. Can you do that for me?’

“Yes, Hee,” you pant. “I wanna come so badly.”

“You can do it, baby. You’ve been such a good girl tonight, giving me the best head and letting me make you come. I think you deserve to feel good.”

“I do,” you nod rapidly. “Fuck, I think I’m coming.”

“That’s right,” he coos, hammering his digits into you while his tongue laps up the juices leaking from your pussy. “So good. You taste so fucking good. Give it to me.”

He doesn't relent until he’s satisfied. Heeseung cleans the come from your lips as best he can while sneaking his hand to his cock, pumping himself as he tastes your orgasm on his tongue.

“You’ve crazy,” you mutter as you settle from your high, loving the feeling of Heeseung’s mouth tenderly licking you clean.

“For you.” He pulls his face away and wipes the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to your clit.

When he rises to take his pants and boxers off, he sees you with your arm covering your face.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Perfect, actually,” you sigh. You remove your arm to see him with his cock in his hands and motion him to come towards the edge of the bed as you crawl on your knees before sitting upright to pull him into a searing kiss.

“That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Heeseung says against your mouth. “It’s better than porn, if I’m being honest.”

You grab his cock and stroke him. “I’ll consider letting you take a video of me when we get back home if you fuck me right now.”

“Turn around,” he says after an open-mouthed kiss.

You follow his instructions and he groans to himself as you present your perfect pussy to him again. Heeseung sinks to his knees and smacks your ass before shoving his tongue into your hole. He spreads your asscheeks apart and digs his nose against you, licking up the wetness and remnants of your orgasm like it’s his last meal. His tongue licks up your body until he finds your wrinkled muscle and presses a soft kiss to your tightest hole.

The surprise comes to him when you moan softly. Your body doesn’t jerk away. Rather, you spread your legs further for him and Heeseung moans against your pussy before bringing his tongue to lick over the muscle again.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, dipping his tongue back in.

“Better than I imagined.”

“You imagined my tongue in your ass, baby?”

You nod. “I’ve always wanted to know what that feels like.”

Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer. Instead, he spits into your hole and watches it dribble down to your pussy, licking his way from your incredibly wet folds to your hole once again. He licks over the expanse with the surface of his tongue one, twice, three times before you’re whining for his cock. He wastes no time tearing open the condom and hurriedly places it on himself.

The first stretch of his cock in your pussy makes him see Heaven. The sharp gasp that comes from your mouth is music to his ears and he’s careful to sink himself into you slowly, inch by inch until you’re telling him he can go further.

His cock impales you at such a perfect angle that it has you falling to your elbows, your back arched so perfectly that he’s sure you’d be the most popular pornstar if you really wanted to be. He keeps half of his cock in you to allow you to adjust, but he underestimates just how cock hungry you are because you back yourself until he’s filling you to the brim.

“Baby’s such a slut, isn’t she?” Heeseung wonders out loud. He grins when you nod. “I love you like that. So dirty for me.”

“Only for you,” you say, cheek pressed to the mattress when Heeseung thrusts in you.

The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. It doesn’t take long for your wet juices to glisten over the back of your thighs and onto Heeseung’s. His hands find purchase on your hips as he pulls your body close to him, loving the way your choked moans become muffled by the mattress below.

“So. Fucking. Tight,” he moans with detailed thrusts. “So. Fucking. Wet.”

He climbs on the bed and plants his feet on the blankets, holding your body in place as he pounds into you from above. The angle has you seeing stars and rips moan after moan from you.

Heeseung grins wickedly. “Such a fuckable body. So perfect.”

His degradation paired with praise ignites a fire inside of you. You can only moan louder to let Heeseung know exactly how he’s making you feel and you can’t help but think you deserved to be fucked exactly the way Heeseung is fucking you.

The pleasure feels like an explosion of a thousand suns. Your body is warm from the hours you’ve spent in the hotel room and your neighbors getting a good night’s sleep is the least of your concerns. Heeseung’s cock drills into you from above like he’s a sex god and it nearly brings you to tears.

He turns you over carefully until you’re laying flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. He steals one from you and puts it underneath the small of your back to create leverage before lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing himself in again.

Heeseung thrusts like he’s got to prove just how in love with you he is. Your wanton moans fill the room with his low grunts as his cock continually hits the one spot that makes you see stars, over and over again.

But you know he could do more to make you feel better. He must notice you in deep thought because he slows his hips.

“What is it, baby?” Heeseung asks when he notices your eyebrows knit together. “Is this okay? Do you need me to stop so we can take a break?”

“Take it off,” you whisper. His hips have faltered and his pace stutters at your words.

“Take what off?”

“The condom.” Heeseung nearly chokes. “Take the condom off.”

“Baby—”

“I just wanna feel you.”

Heeseung curses and his hips automatically drill into yours at the request out of pure shock. He can’t lie to himself. He’s thought about it multiple times since you left for Europe and as he’s come to term with his feelings for you. The cute fantasies about taking you on dates to dinner or drive in theaters transform into daydreams about dirty affairs in his bedroom with his seed leaking out of your perfect hole.

Still, he doesn’t believe it.

“Please, Hee,” you plead, arching your chest towards him. “Let me feel you. Don’t you want to come inside me?”

“Fuck,” he falters, his forehead on yours. “You can’t just say that…I can’t be risky with you.”

“Yes you can.” He watches you bite your lip and feels your hands push him off of you. Heeseung doesn’t put up a fight when he slips out of your warm hole and feels your hands grip his cock, desperately trying to tug the condom off of him.

Heeseung sees the pathetic rubber in your hands when you bring it up for him to see. It’s glistening and his mouth drools at the sight, lips parting enough as if he stares at it in disbelief. He groans lowly in your ear as he peppers a few wet kisses to your neck.

You spread your legs wider in the air and grip his cock in your head, pumping him a few times before letting his bare tip rest against your hole. His sharp intake is enough to make you bite your lip.

“Pussy’s so wet,” he says against your neck, pushing an inch inside of you. “God, I could come like this.”

“You can.”

“No, baby. Gonna fuck you the way you deserve before I come.”

With that sentiment, Heeseung pushes himself inside of you until he’s fully sheathed within your walls. He relishes the way you gasp at the sudden movement and he uses this angle to his advantage, positioning his ear next to your mouth to hear your delicious sounds.

He moves his hips at such a pace that it makes you feel like your body’s bouncing on top of the soft mattress below you. Heeseung presses his chest against yours to kiss you like his life depends on it, tongue invading the privacy of your mouth but you couldn’t care less where his mouth goes. He can feel your nipples on his skin and groans into your mouth when you clench at a particularly hard thrust.

“S-So good,” you stutter against his mouth with a breathy moan. Heeseung feels your arm around his shoulders, scratching at his back. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Mhm,” he coaxed. “Such a good baby. You look so pretty underneath me.”

With a new sense of purpose, Heeseung lifts himself to push himself into you at a deeper angle. He forces his hips into you harder, your hands coming to your chest to cup your tits to give you something to hold in the meantime.

“That’s right, beautiful. Squeeze your tits for me.”

You do, pinching and twisting your nipples until you hear Heeseung moan above you. It sounds nearly animalistic, the way his throat emits a groan that sounds so primal. He sees the dirty smile you paint your mouth with and leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead before his hand comes to your cheeks, squeezing them between my fingers.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” Heeseung asks, hips rolling against your own pelvis. When you nod, he gives you a nasty smile of his own and gives you a few harsh thrusts for good measure before pulling himself off of your chest with his cock still inside of you.

Heeseung sits on his knees and pulls out just far enough where his hot tip remains buried inside of you, relishing in the panty breaths you emit as he watches your chest rise and fall. You look so beautiful to him with your hair messed up against the pillow beneath you and with a few faint hickeys on your chest and neck. Heeseung thinks that all of his wildest dreams could never compare to how gorgeous you look when you’re positioned directly where he wants you.

You don’t complain when he pulls out to rest his cock on your wet, bare pussy. You wince at the loss and let him slide himself up and down, biting your lip when he grazes your swollen clit over and over again.

The man above you lifts your right leg so that he can grip you tighter. You relinquish any control left in your body as Heeseung curses and kisses the side of your ankle. He dips the head of his cock inside and thrusts shallowly as if to tease, but you know he’s exploring all the way his cock looks like against your own body.

It feels euphoric. The whole affair is dirty, but it’s the kind of dirty that makes you want to do it again. It’s the kind of dirty that makes this night an event you’ll want to remember for the rest of your night because Heeseung had poured his entire heart and soul for you to take.

For Heeseung, this pleasure is less about knowing you have him permission to put himself inside you. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and your body; it’s something Heeseung has always admired about you as a person. Growing up with your insecurities of relationships and dating might’ve made you feel like a late bloomer; to Heeseung, your tendency to keep your head straight has always been a testament to how knowledgeable you are about yourself and about others. You save yourself for people who are worthy of you, and god, does he want to be worthy of you.

“I love you,” Heeseung whispers from above you. His eyes are closed and he pays no mind to the feeling your pussy gives him. Flashes of your memories stitch together like a film reel with your laughter as the soundtrack. He doesn’t think he wants to hear anything else for the rest of his life.

Just for good measure, he whispers it again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

Heeseung opens his eyes to see your tender ones, cheeks flushed from the sudden compliment. He always liked that he knew how to get you to blush when no one else couldn’t. This time, a sense of pride blooms in his chest.

“I’ll never let you down,” he confesses. “And if I do, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“I know, baby.” Heeseung’s hand cups your cheek and caresses it. “I trust you.”

That’s enough for him to release your leg from his grip and pound himself into you like his life depends on bringing you to peak happiness.

Heeseung’s palms are planted firmly on either side of your body as his hips roll gracefully against yours, the hot, wet mess between the two of you splashing on both of your thighs. He watches your eyes close shut and as your back arches to relieve some of the pressure, feeling somewhat proud of himself when he watches as your hands grab at the sheets for stability.

There’s nothing that compares to watching you orgasm. Your eyebrows knit as if you’re concentrating while your mouth stands slightly ajar at the euphoric feeling of that single knot that’s threatening to come undone until it does. All of the girls he’s deluded into thinking he liked could never compare to the looks and sounds you’re making.

“That’s it,” he coaxes softly. ��Cream my cock, baby. That’s a good girl.”

Heeseung feels you push and clench around him, gushing until there’s nowhere left for your come to go. He peeks down at where the two of you meet and groans when he sees his cock becoming painted in a sheer layer of white. It edges him on and the moment he locks his eyes with yours, his hips begin to stutter and he spills all he has to offer inside of you.

He comes with short breaths as if he can’t believe you’ve allowed him to do so. Your hips move up and down as if to milk him for all he’s worth while Heeseung’s trying his best to balance his body on top of yours, grateful that some of his gym workouts prevent him from completely collapsing on top of you to.

His come seeps from your bodies and he pulls out, a few droplets splattering on your pussy lips. He nudges the tip against it, smearing his paint across your canvas and marveling at the sight.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, eyes locked in at his handy work.

“I’ve never let anyone come inside of me,” you say with a fond expression. Your arm comes to brush Heeseung’s hair from his face before cradling his cheek when he looks at you in surprise.

“Really?”

You nod, biting your cheek. “Well, I always knew you were it for me. I didn’t want anyone else tainting what’s yours.”

“Mine?” he asks, catching his breath. “You mean it? You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.”

“All mine,” he mutters to himself in disbelief.

You still feel his cock working itself against you. He’s still hard, a wonder after your hours locked away in your hotel room. It makes you laugh.

“No one has ever compared to you either,” Heeseung says. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he continues toying with your pussy. “Even when I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t like you.”

You laugh. “Well that’s good to hear. I realized all the guys I went after while I was abroad either looked like you or reminded me of you.”

“I can confidently and stupidly say the same.”

Your laughs echo through the room. Heeseung pulls your body upright, not caring that your mixed come is leaking on his cock and his bare lap. He kisses you with tender care, lips moving at a slow pace while his hands roam over the expanse of your back while your hands are on his broad shoulders. Heeseung could live like this everyday if you’d let him.

You smile midway through when you feel his fully hardened cock against you. Heeseung apologizes quietly against your lips but feels you shake your head, pulling back to push him against the headboard until he’s comfortably seated.

He looks at your pussy when you hover above him, the white cream still sticking to you as you grip his cock. Heeseung can’t believe his eyes when he understands what you’re about to do. Before he can even think, you align yourself with his cock and sink until you’re stuffed with him.

“Shit,” he curses through his teeth.

“What good is coming inside of me if you don’t do it again and again, Hee?”

“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You don’t move just yet, opting to press small kisses to Heeseung’s face. You kiss his forehead, both temples, his nose, both eyelids, and the apples of his cheeks before placing a kiss to his lips.

“Before we leave, I want you to fuck me against that window,” you say, turning your head to the window that glimpses the city below.

“But people can see,” is Heeseung’s first comment.

“So?”

He chokes and when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you can’t help but laugh at him.

“I’ve heard talk about your escapades, Lee. Why so shy with me?”

He smacks your asscheek. “Naughty girl. Didn’t know you were nasty like that.” Heeseung gives you that kind of teasing smile that has you folding for him all over again. “Alright then, humor me. What else do you want to do before we leave?”

“I’d love to give you a blowjob while we shower, too.”

“That can certainly be arranged. Anything else?”

You look around the room. “I kind of want to see you eat me out while I sit on the desk chair. Makes me think you’re some kind of secretary who’s desperate for my pussy.”

“I am desperate for your pussy,” Heeseung reminds you. “What if I’m the stone cold CEO and you’re the cute secretary whose ass I dream about?”

You swat his chest. “This is my fantasy. You can have yours when we get home.”

Heeseung raises his eyebrow. “Mm, you sure?”

“Positively,” you nod. Heeseung’s hands travel from your ass to your hips and guides you up and down his cock, letting you set the pace after the brutal first round from a few minutes prior.

“Gonna fuck you in and on my car, since you like being watched so much,” Heeseung teases. His words seem to make your pussy clench and hips move faster. He forgoes any shyness when speaking about his fantasies and spills his every thought.

“I always thought you looked so cute in your old school uniform. I’ve always wanted to take you in that skirt they gave you.”

“I’ll buy one of those sexy schoolgirl costumes and surprise you for your birthday,” you say, locking your eyes with him. “Oh, professor! Is there anything I can do to raise my grade?”

Heeseung laughs at your antics, but the images of you in the costume aforementioned makes his grip on your body tighter.

“I selfishly want to watch you suck me off while I play with the guys.” He says it in a way that makes him avert his gaze and you can see a faint blush on his face. “I-I saw this video on Twitter. It looks hot.”

“I can do that for you.” You kiss both of his burning cheeks.

“But mostly, I just want you to sit on my face. Mad at me? Sit on my face. Sad? Sit on my face. Happy to see me? Sit on my face.”

“Simp,” you grunt, thighs burning from pushing yourself on and off of Heeseung’s cock.

“And proud.” He smacks both ass cheeks again. “Now what do you say, baby? If you ride me until you come, you can blow me in the bathroom before I fuck you in front of the entirety of Paris. Can you do that for me?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The next morning, you meet Heeseung and the rest of the guys in the lobby while Jay checks out on behalf of all of you. Jake’s the first to see you coming.

“You’re glowing and I don’t know if I like that.” He raises his eyebrow at Heeseung, who has pulled you into him by your waist.

“At least some of us are getting laid,” you retort. “I don’t recall seeing anyone do the walk of shame even though you had the room to yourself.”

Riki and Sunoo don’t try to contain their laughter as Jake’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. He rolls his eyes when you look at him, but shakes his head and punches your arm with your first.

“Nah, I’m really glad you two got that out of your system and worked it out.”

“You guys had major sexual tension,” Sunoo comments.

“Thank God Y/N’s room was at the end of the hall,” says Sunghoon. “I don’t know how their neighbors felt but I can sleep peacefully knowing I didn’t have to hear all of that.”

“Okay, enough,” Heeseung laughs. “We get it, we had a lot of sexual tension and now we’re fine.”

“So you guys are boyfriend-girlfriend?” Jungwon asks.

“Y/N is my girlfriend and I am her boyfriend.”

“I will key his car if he hurts you again,” Riki tells you, looking at Heeseung after he’s finished speaking. You detach yourself from his waist and bring your arms around Riki to give him a squeeze.

“Thanks, Riki.”

“Okay, we should call the cabs right now so we can get to the airport early,” Jay says from behind you.

“Jay is such a dad,” Jungwon whispers.

He pays no mind to Jungwon’s words, instead focusing on the way Heeseung pulls you into his chest. It warms his heart in ways he can’t explain.

“Congratulations, you two. Let’s go home.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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cumironi · 5 months ago

Text

COLD ICE POPSICLE!

summary. you and your friends sit in the back of the school building, smoking and talking, joint in hands. it was summer and heat waves swimming around freely, you eating some ice cream, licking and slurping while your eyes focus on your two friends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . who knows that might not be the only thing you lick that day?

wc. 12k | masterlist.

warning. fem! reader, dirty talk, praise, choking, hair pulling ( gojo, geto ), nineteen! satosugu x reader, biting, risky public place, degrading, oral sex ( m! receiving ), smoking joint, drug mentioned, fingering, threesome mentioned.

in the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun, you, gojo satoru, geto suguru, and nanami kento are lounging in the back of the school, surrounded by abandoned tables and chairs. the heat wave has turned the place into an uncomfortable haven, but you all find some relief in the occasional breeze.

gojo, sprawled out on one of the tables across from you, is animatedly complaining about the heat, “i swear, if it gets any hotter, we’ll need to start using our powers just to stay cool!” nanami, sitting cross-legged on a nearby chair beside gojo, rolls his eyes. “gojo, we’re not going to use our cursed energy just to avoid a bit of sweat. it’s not that bad.”

geto, lounging on the grass with a half-smile, adds, “you’re just saying that because you’re immune to the heat. it’s like you’re always in your own personal air-conditioned bubble.” gojo grins, clearly enjoying the moment. “oh, come on, nanami. you’re just bitter because you can’t complain as creatively as i can.” nanami raises an eyebrow, throwing his upperclassmen a look. “creative? more like annoying. maybe if you spent less time talking and more time focusing, you wouldn’t be so bothered by the heat.” gojo laughs loudly at nanami’s retort, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“aw, come on na-na-mi,” he teases, drawing out the syllables, “admit it, you love it when i get all creative. adds a bit of spice to your otherwise predictable life.” you snort at gojo's words, hands waving up and down as you try to cool off your neck. gojo grins widely at your reaction, noticing your attempt to cool down. “oh, fanning yourself, huh?” he says with a smirk, “can’t handle the heat?” now shifting his attention to you.

nanami just rolls his eyes, not even looking up from his book. “you’re not any better, gojo. you’ve been complaining nonstop for the past hour.” hearing the words coming out of nanami's mouth, gojo feigns a wounded expression. “excuse me, nanami. i’m not complaining. i’m creatively expressing my discomfort,” he gasped before throwing the blonde a nasty look.

“yeah, creatively annoying everyone around you,” geto chimes in, lounging comfortably on the grass with his eyes closed. gojo turns his attention to geto, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, look who decided to join the conversation. got tired of just sitting there looking pretty?” geto scoffs at this, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “oh, please. as if i need to say anything. unlike you, i know when to shut up.”

gojo shoots geto a mock-offended look, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “ouch, sugu. you wound me. i'll have you know, my talking is a form of art,” he pout as he speaks bullshit. nanami finally looks up from his book, his expression unreadable as usual, “more like art of torture.”

you chuckle when you hear the words nanami said as his eyes back to focusing on his book. “why are you even reading in this heat?” you look at your classmates, shaking your head lightly as you pull out an electric fan from your bag and opening two buttons of your uniform. gojo's eyes immediately light up when he sees the fan and starts fanning yourself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “well,” he says, lounging back on the table, “looks like you've got the solution right there.”

geto open his one eye to look at you— eyes straight to your chest as he lets out a low whistle, eyeing you up and down, “now that's a sight for sore eyes.” nanami ignores their comments, focused on his book, but you can see a subtle flush rising on his cheeks. gojo leans forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “you know, y/n, that fan would be a lot more useful if you were over here.”

he pats the spot on the table beside him, looking up at you with a hopeful expression. geto chuckles at gojo's blatant flirting, amused by the situation. “yeah,” he adds, “or come lie over here with me. i promise i won’t bite.” even nanami glances up from his book, his eyes flickering in your direction before quickly looking back down when he accidentally looking at your chest.

gojo's smirk widens as he notices nanami's reaction. “ooh, look at that,” he teases, “is that a blush i see on na-na-mi's face?” geto laughs, clearly enjoying the teasing. nanami shoots both of them a glare, his cheeks still flushed, “shut up.” gojo just grins, enjoying the effect he's having on the other sorcerer, “what's wrong, na-na-mi? can't handle a little heat?”

geto grins, continuing to tease nanami, “yeah, looks like you're finally overheating, nanami. maybe you should take a break from that book and enjoy the scenery.” which he means by scenery is your chest. gojo pour fuel to the fire, looking at you with a smirk, “well, what do you say, y/n? want to save na-na-mi from melting?” nanami glares at gojo and geto, his cheeks now turning more pink than before. he keeps his focus on his book, yet there's an undeniable flutter in his chest.

geto continues, “you know, i bet you could cool down even more if you undid a couple more buttons,” he says that last part without even an ounce of shame, which gets him another glare from nanami. gojo, ever the instigator, smirks at geto's words, “now you're talking. i'm curious to see if that would help, honestly.”

nanami rolls his eyes at their constant bickering, but he can't help but feel a flutter in his chest when he imagines you taking off your uniform. he clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure, “knock it off, you two. stop being so inappropriate.”

gojo and geto, of course, ignore his plea and continue their teasing. gojo leans forward to you as he sits on the table across from you, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, “you know, i could help you undo those buttons if you want.” you can't help but blush at the suggestion, feeling a bit flustered by gojo-stupid-satoru's boldness, “fuck off, satoru!” you throw your book at the white-haired boy, “always a fucking pervert,” you mumble loud enough for your friends to hear.

geto barks out a laugh at your reaction, clearly enjoying the show, “ah, there it is. that's the y/n we know and love.” gojo grins as he dodges the book effortlessly, his eyes still fixed on you, “oh come on, don't be like that. i'm just trying to offer my services here, love,” he smugly said. even nanami can't help but snicker at your response, his irritation momentarily fading as he glances in your direction.

“seriously,” gojo says, a smirk playing on his lips, “just imagine it. i could help you take off those pesky buttons one by one. slowly, gently.” geto grins, clearly enjoying gojo's suggestive tone and your reaction. “oh, i can already picture it. the look on your face would be priceless.” just like how they fuck you the night before’ geto thought.

nanami finally looks up from his book again, his eyes flickering in your direction. he can't deny that the image gojo is painting is getting to him, and his cheeks flush a deep pink. gojo leans back on the table— back almost touching the wall, his arms stretched behind his head as if he hasn't a care in the world, “you know, you'd look even better without that uniform anyway.”

geto adds, his expression sly, “yeah, i wouldn't mind seeing a little more skin.” he lays back on the grass, his arms under his head. of course they don't, at least not after that night. “you know,” he says, “it's not like there's anyone else around. we could probably get away with doing some pretty lewd things right now and no one would ever know.”

he shoots a sly glance in your direction, clearly enjoying the idea. gojo smirks, stretching casually as he nods at whatever geto's said, “oh, i like the way you think, suguru.” nanami shoots both of them a glare but doesn't say anything. he can't deny that the thought has crossed his mind as well, but he's too dignified to admit it.

seeing nanami's reaction you can feel your beating faster and the heat from the sun running through your blood straight to your cheeks. you pull books out of geto's bag beside you before throwing them to the two shameless hyenas. “stop putting things on na-na-mi's mind! you two are insufferable!” your voice wavering with annoyance.

feeling your cheeks start to burn, again, as your mind plays a split second of your activity with gojo and geto a few days ago, you walk over to shoved gojo's chest lightly before muttering, “asshole.” before walking back to the table across from him and sit your ass back to your original position— not forgot to kick geto's leg on your way back.

gojo snickers as you shove him, enjoying the reaction he's gotten out of you, “oh, come on. don't be mad.” geto joins in, his tone teasing but lightheartedly, “yeah, we were just messing with you.”

“can't even let you kids alone for a second, and now i heard some fighting,” shoko's voice could be heard, followed by a long sigh. you could see a plastic bag on her hand while a joint in the other with yuu haibara following from behind. you perk up at the sight of the girl, a wide grin forming on your face. “ah, my baby shoko! finally some company is worth tolerating. did you buy me the ice cream?”

shoko gives you a small smile, her usual laid-back expression never faltering, “of course. how could i not get my favorite sugar-addict some much-needed ice cream?”

yuu, trailing slightly behind shoko, gives you a wave, “hey, y/n. hope these two idiots aren't giving you a hard time.” geto and gojo, hearing yuu's comment, both let out a mock-offended scoff, clearly unbothered by the jab. pouting as you look at your classmates, yuu haibara always the soft one sitting himself beside you at the edge of the table. “they always give me a hard time,” your voice no longer lingers with annoyance as you talk to the boy, clearly different from before.

seeing the change in your behavior as you talk to yuu, geto and gojo rolled their eyes. shoko hands the ice cream to you, she glances over at gojo and geto, her eyes narrowing slightly, “what are you idiots up to now?”

geto grins cheekily at shoko as he stretches out again, “oh, nothing much. just having a bit of harmless fun.” gojo nods, and flashes shoko a smile, his eyes flickering over to you and yuu. “yeah, we were just talking about how hot it is today.” shoko rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced by their innocent facade, “yeah, right. i know you two. i'm sure you're plotting something mischievous.” geto push himself off the grass before dusting his pants and sit beside gojo.

“i swear if idiots could fly this school would be a fucking airport,” nanami mutters under his breath as he shake his head. his eyes throwing a look at gojo and geto before back to his book. you snicker the moment the words go through your ears before laughing.

both gojo and geto roll their eyes at nanami's words, clearly unbothered by his disapproving attitude. gojo, spotting the joint in shoko's hand, immediately perks up. “hey, share some of that, shoko,” he says, holding out his hand expectantly.

shoko shoots him an unimpressed look, “buy your own.” gojo huffs dramatically, “come on, don’t be like that. i’m suffering in this heat. just a little bit?” nanami just shakes his head, while geto chuckles at gojo’s persistent begging.

“me first, me first,” you tug shoko's uniform.

shoko rolls her yes lets out a weary sigh, her expression unchanged, “ah, there's the drug addict i know.” her resistance to the boys' pleas wearing thin. she sigh, voice dripping with defeated, “alright, you brats. you're all like a bunch of beggars.” she hands the joint to you first, before passing it to geto next, and finally to gojo.

“i swear, you guys are such a pain in the ass.” she mutters, though there's a hint of fondness in her tone. as gojo takes the joint, he grins widely, clearly pleased with himself, “aww, we know you love us, shoko.”

geto chuckles at his comment, taking a drag before passing it to yuu. he added, “yeah, we're like the three stooges, you can't get rid of us that easily,” referring to himself, gojo and you. nanami snort, “yeah, right, more like the three nuisances.” geto takes the next hit, the smoke swirling around his face before he lets out a contented sigh, “yeah, finally. now we're talking.”

yuu, still sitting beside you, can't help but chuckle at his friends' antics, “i swear, you three look like a bunch of potheads sometimes.” gojo lets out a mock-offended gasp, his eyes widening, “how dare you. we're not potheads. we're connoisseurs of recreational relaxation.”

geto snickers, adding, “yeah, we're exploring different states of consciousness for medicinal purposes.” nanami, clearly exasperated by their excuses before reaching his arm to take the next puff, “yeah, medicinal purposes, my ass.” hearing your snorts, clearly amused by the blonde's response. with mockery in your voice while faintly nodding your head you joked, “yeah, that's a nice way of saying we like to get high as often as possible.”

shoko rolls her eyes but doesn't protest, used to their shenanigans by now. “ah, i swear one of these days you guys are going to smoke yourselves stupid,” she mutters. geto grins, taking another drag before passing the joint to you. “what can we say? we just enjoy the finer things in life.”

gojo nods in agreement, his eyes already starting to glaze slightly, “yeah, we're philosophers of sorts. exploring the boundaries of our minds and whatnot.”

yuu rolled his eyes, grins at their responses before he takes a puff himself, “yeah, you're all philosophers, alright. the three wise men— stoned edition.” shoko can't help but snicker at yuu's comment, clearly finding their behavior amusing despite her facade of annoyance. “ah, the three wise men on a never-ending journey to find their inner peace in a cloud of smoke.”

nanami snicker, now fully closed his book as he takes a bottle of ramune from the plastic bag that shoko brought, “more like the three idiots on a never-ending journey to find a brain cell.” offended, you puff a smoke out of your lips before giving nanami an offended look, “hey, i'm smarter than these two fuckers, alright?” your fingers pointing at geto and gojo, joint still intact between your fingers.

gojo and geto feign shock, pretending to be insulted by your words. “hey, we take offense to that,” gojo protests. get corrected, “yeah, we have brain cells. somewhere.” shoko chuckles at— more like a scoff, “oh, please. we all know you two share a singular brain cell, and it's permanently on vacation.” yuu grins at her comment, nodding his head before agreeing, “yeah, it goes on a vacation every time you light up a joint.”

gojo laughs, his eyes still a bit glassy from the drug as he looks at you. “aww, that's cute. you think being smarter than us is an accomplishment.”

a smirk playing on his lips, geto argued, “just because you scored higher on a few tests, doesn't make you a freaking genius.” you cross your arms, feigning indignance taking an offended with his words, you bark with your finger pointing at yourself, “hey now. i'll have you know, i'm a lot smarter than you idiots give me credit for.”

nanami rolls his eyes, adding with his expression still as stern as ever, “yeah, like that's something to brag about.”

shoko chuckles at your response, clearly enjoying the playful rage between all of you, “yeah, she's smart. just don't ask her to do basic math. she'll probably look at you like you're speaking a foreign language.”

yuu laughs at shoko's comment, chiming in, “yeah, she's book smart, not street smart. she'd probably get lost trying to find her way out of a paper bag.” gojo grins, clearly satisfied with the jabs at your expense, “yeah, she's smart in theory, but in practice...”

geto added to your fire with his tone teasing but playful, “yeah, she's got a head full of knowledge but zero common sense.” nanami raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, taking a liking to how his friends started teasing you. “come on, guys, don't be like that, she's good at memorizing facts, just don't puts her in a real-world situation and it's game over,” yuu berated his friends even though his word says otherwise.

you give yuu a light smack on his stomach before laughing, “shut up,” you protest, slightly annoyed by their teasing, “i swear every time you guys talk i'm seven years old again.” yuu chuckles, rubbing his stomach playfully before sticking his tongue out at you, “aww, is someone feeling a little sensitive about their lack of common sense?” shoko grins, enjoy your annoyance as much as the rest of your friends, “yeah, you're definitely showing your youthful side right now.”

gojo and geto's grins widen, having a moment with the chance to poke fun at you, “oh, you're acting so mature,” gojo teases.

geto adds, “uh-uh, like a petulant child.”

you rolled your eyes, annoyed, “whatever.”

you open the package of your ice cream and notice how it's already half melting because of the heat wave, “aw man, my ice cream melting.” geto snickers, “yeah, maybe that's what happens when you spend too much time talking crap and not enough time enjoying your snack.” he wiggle his eyebrows together when you throw him a glare before focusing back to your half melted ice cream.

you pout at all four of them, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement, “why are you all so mean to me?” yuu grins, clearly enjoying the chance to poke fun. “aww, don't pout. we're just teasing you because we love you,” he lean in to give your cheek a kiss.

shoko smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, and besides, you make it so easy.” gojo grins wider and eyes glimmering with amusement, “right, you're like a punching bag for our jokes.” shoko, who’s been enjoying the banter, pipes in, “maybe you could lick it off the wrapper. improvise.” you look down at your half-melted ice cream, contemplating whether to eat it straight from the wrapper or not. “yeah right, like i'd lick it off the wrapper like some kind of savage,” you protested.

gojo, geto, and yuu all burst into laughter at your protests, satisfied with your reaction, as always: so easy. shoko snickers, a smirk on her face, “oh, come on. where’s your sense of adventure?”

gojo wiping away a tear of laughter, open his mouth again to pester you, “yeah, live a little. stick out your tongue and taste the wrapper.” yuu chimes in with a wide grin, clearly enjoying himself with your misfortune, “yeah, embrace your inner beast. lick that wrapper clean.”

geto smirks, enjoying the opportunity to tease you even further, “or are you too much of a princess to get your hands dirty?” he, always knows which button to push. you raised your eyebrows, suddenly feeling challenged by his comments. they know one thing about you: you love proving them wrong, and you hate losing. and you, yourself know that they're doing it on purpose.

so you stick your tongue out, giving the wrapper kitten-lick as your eyes lock with the two boys across from you before fully, slowly licking the wrapper, making it as sensual as possible. and all at once, gojo and geto's minds suddenly flashed an image from a week ago where you gave them head.

gojo and geto's eyes widen as you start to lick the wrapper. the sight, as innocent as it might seem to the others, reminds both of them of something far less so. their cheeks flush red as their minds suddenly flash back to the moment from a week ago with you.

yuu, noticing the change in their expressions, raises an eyebrow, “are you guys alright? you look a bit flushed.” shoko, being more observant, smirks as she notices the similarity between your action and their reaction. you snort before throwing the wrapper on the ground and putting the ice cream in your mouth. a faint mumble could be heard from you, “pussy.”

gojo and geto, still reeling from the unintentional but reminiscent display, are left speechless. their faces continue to burn red as they struggle to keep their cool, trying not to think too much about what your action had reminded them of.

shoko, her smirk growing wider, glances at them and snickers, making a mental note of their reaction. nanami, having watched the entire exchange, rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath, “idiots are so easy to read.”

geto, trying to compose himself, clears his throat and forces a smile onto his face, “nah, we're just... distracted.” gojo, joining in, adds in a slightly shaky voice, “yeah, distracted. by how absurd that display was.” he pointed his finger at you, “did you really need to make that so sensually?” yuu snickers at gojo's comment, while shoko rolls her eyes again and nanami just mutters ‘idiots’ once more.

you, on the other hand, feign innocence as you lick the ice cream, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “what do you mean, sensually? i was just simply licking the wrapper, like a normal person would,” your voice dripping with innocuousness.

gojo and geto exchange a look, knowing that your feigned innocence is just a mask to cover up the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing. gojo tries to keep his composure as he retorts, “yeah, right. that was the least innocent licking i've ever seen.”

geto adds while struggling to keep his mind from wandering, “you definitely knew what you were doing. don't play coy now.” shoko, enjoying their obvious flustered state, can't help but tease them further, “oh, really? distracted by how 'sensual' it was? what's so special about licking an ice cream wrapper that you two are acting so awkwardly?”

yuu, oblivious to the hidden truth, chimes in with a confused expression, “guys, it was just a wrapper,” his voice dripping with confusion. you continue to maintain your innocent facade, licking the ice cream nonchalantly.

gojo and geto's faces flush even deeper as shoko's remark hits the mark, and they struggle to come up with a response that wouldn't give away their true thoughts. yuu, oblivious to the hidden context, looks innocently confused while nanami mutters under his breath and choose to playing with his phone, “ignore them, ignore them.”

you look up to meet their gaze, eyes glued to you. silently you are eating your ice cream, eyes never leaving them as you lick your ice cream from the bottom to the top before bottom out your ice cream. you smile as your tongue licks the bottom of your ice cream, a few times slurping the melted ice away before putting the ice cream back inside your mouth, didn't really pay any attention as your friends keep plastering gojo and geto.

gojo and geto's gazes remain fixated on you as you continue to lick the ice cream in such a manner, their faces turning even more flustered and their minds racing with inappropriate thoughts. shoko, who is enjoying the show, can't help but tease them further, “look at you two, practically drooling over there. something you'd like to share with the rest of us?”

gojo and geto quickly turn their heads away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. they try to play it cool, but their flushed faces and the occasional glances they steal in your direction betray their true feelings. yuu, still in the dark, looks at them curiously, “why are you guys acting so weird? it's just an ice cream.”

shoko, enjoying the power she has over them, gives them a mischievous smirk, “yeah, seriously guys. what's up with you two?”

“yeah, guys, it's just ice cream,” you said after finishing your ice cream. gojo rolled his eyes, finally gaining composure, just a little before he threw a comment, “oh please, nobody eats ice cream like that.” geto chimed in, trying to regain some control over the situation, “yeah! nobody eats ice cream so... seductively.”

shoko snickered, clearly enjoying the spectacle, “oh, really? i didn't notice anything out of the ordinary,” she said, feigning ignorance. geto nods in agreement, trying to regain his own composure as he adds, looking at shoko, “she was basically giving that ice cream the full treatment.”

gojo added, trying so hard to point his finger at your act for everyone to notice, a hint of irritation in his voice, “she was practically making out with that ice cream.”

nanami, start to enjoy the moment as ever, laugh at their comments, “come on, that's just ridiculous. it's just ice cream.” shoko can't help but smirk at gojo and geto's comments, enjoying their flustered states, “yeah, it's just a little ice cream. no big deal.”

gojo mutters under his breath, “like hell it is.”

geto adds, trying to sound nonchalant, “yeah, it's not like watching her eat that ice cream was... distracting or anything.”

“you two watch too much porn,” nanami said as he took a sip of his ramune. gojo and geto's faces burn even redder at nanami's comment. “what? no, we don't,” they protest, simultaneously, their voices are a little too defensive, breaking here and there with a high-pitched when they say ‘what?’

shoko rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying their discomfort, “yeah, sure you don't.”

yuu looks at them with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, clearly wondering what was going through their minds. before they get a chance to answer, yaga's voice rings out, bringing an end to the tension-filled moment. all hell breaks loose as everyone scrambles to react.

gojo grabs your hand, tugging you in the opposite direction from your teacher. he hollers, “run!” geto follows closely behind, the three of you separating from nanami, shoko, and haibara, who turn left. you grab your bag, heart pounding in your chest as you all try to evade yaga's wrath. as you run, you can hear your teacher's voice growing louder behind you, “get back here, you damn brats!”

laughter and the sound of footsteps fill the air as you and gojo and geto sprint away from yaga, trying to get as much distance as possible before he catches up. “come on, faster,” gojo calls out as you run, his hand still gripping yours tightly. “fuck, we can't let him catch us,” geto laugh, panting as he runs alongside you.

yaga's voice echoes behind you, growing louder and more urgent, “don't you dare run away, you brats!”

“fuck, my cigs!” you could hear shoko's voice faintly from behind you. “just let it be!” nanami's voice followed along, tightening his hand around shoko's wrist as he kept pulling the girl to run for her life. despite the panic, you can't help but chuckle at the scene playing out behind you.

gojo pulling you to the empty class and locked the door— hiding behind the door as they sandwiched you. you can feel their heart pounding on your front and your back. gojo leans against the closed door, pressing his body against your front, while geto stands behind you, his chest heaving against your back. both of them are trying to catch their breaths, the adrenaline from the chase still coursing through their veins.

gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “that was close, too close.”

geto chuckles at gojo's comment, “shit, i thought we were goners for a moment there,” he laughed a little as he tried to catch his breath.

once gojo's eyes meet your face, a grin kissing his lips. he wraps his arm around you, “now we finally have time for ourselves, do you know how hard it is for me to pretend like i don't care after that stunt you pull earlier with the ice cream?” you playfully pout at his remark, leaning into his embrace. “oh, did you not enjoy the show? i thought i caught your attention quite well.”

gojo smirks back, his eyes drifting down to your lips. “oh, you caught my attention alright. you had me completely entranced.” geto snorts from behind you, his hands resting on your hips. “yeah, we were practically drooling over you. but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“you guys are being an asshole, there,” you pout. “so i try to give you some hard time like you did to me in front of nanami, what if i actually take off my uniform? want everyone to know our little secret?” your eyebrows knit together softly when you gaze at the blue pale irises. nobody knows about your little secret with geto suguru and gojo satoru. pretend to be friends in front of the others after they fuck you to oblivious the night before, but friends, right? both boys snicker at your threat, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo smirks, his hand tracing small patterns on your hip, before pulling you toward him a little, “oh please, like you don’t love the thrill of it all.” geto chuckled behind you, his hands beginning to roam over your body, “yeah, we all know you’re no angel. you get off on pushing our buttons just as much as we do.” your cheeks flushed pink as their hands continue to linger on your body, their teasing words only making you feel more flustered.

gojo continues, his voice low and sultry. “you like knowing you have that kind of power over us.” geto agrees as his hands wander further up your sides, “yeah, you love driving us crazy. it’s all a game to you, isn’t it?”

you scrunch your nose for a second, “is it?”

“and if you did take off your uniform, we would be the first to know,” gojo adds, his voice low and husky. “yeah,” geto agrees, his hands slowly pulling at the hem of your shirt. “we would be the only ones who would get that privilege.” you giggle, wrapping your arm around gojo's neck before pulling him down a little, “think i spoil you guys too much.”

both boys chuckle at your comment, clearly enjoying your playful banter. gojo grins as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. “oh, you definitely spoil us.” geto smirks, his hands continuing to wander over your sides, slipping beneath your shirt, craving for more of your skin, “yeah, we’re practically spoiled brats when it comes to you. but you love it, don’t you?” nodding, you lean down to gojo's neck, kissing the boy as you hummed, “mmh-mm.”

gojo moans at the feeling of your lips against his neck, his hands gripping your waist a little bit tighter. he leans his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys the sensation. geto smirks, watching as you kiss gojo, his hands still roaming over your sides. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “you’re such a tease.”

gojo wrapped his arm around you when you pulled your face away. he pulled you to the wooden table on the front row, sitting on the edge with you between his legs while geto walked over to the teacher's table and sitting on the chair, pulling his phone out and cigarettes, letting gojo have you for a moment before his turn.

gojo chuckles as he tugs you closer, his legs trapping you between them. he leans back on the edge of the table, looking up at you with a smirk on his face. “you’re all mine for a moment,” he whispers, his eyes tracing up and down your body. geto watches from the teacher’s table, an amused smile on his face as he lights up a cigarette and scrolls through his phone.

your heart races in your chest as gojo's eyes rove over your body, his smirk sending a shiver down your spine. you try to keep your composure, but something about his gaze makes you feel completely bare and vulnerable.

gojo leans in closer, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “you know how bad i’ve been wanting to touch you like this?” you smile, tighten your arm around his neck as you draw him close with your lips almost touching his, “i don't know, tell me.”

gojo grins wickedly, his large hands sliding down to grip your ass possessively as he pulls you flush against him. “i've been dreaming about having you all to myself, just like this,” he growls lowly, his hot breath fanning across your lips, “wanted to strip you naked right here in class and show everyone who you belong to.”

he punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. one hand slides up under your shirt, fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of your lower back. “i'm going to mark every inch of you up later,” he promises darkly, nuzzling into your neck and biting down hard enough to leave a vivid hickey.

“ahh!” a moan leaving your lips as you feel him biting down on your neck, hard. his large hands gripping your ass, intentionally pulling your skirt up to flash geto your underwear. gojo's fingers dig into your ass cheeks harder, kneading them roughly as he bites down again, marking you with his teeth. his other hand moves higher, slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back. he smirks against your neck, feeling proud of himself for making you moan so loud in public.

“suguru can see everything,” he murmurs against your skin, knowing exactly what kind of view he'd given their teacher, “and i bet he loves seeing you like this.” gojo, still clinging to you like a second skin, leads you to the back row of the empty classroom, sitting in the chair and pulls you onto his lap. he positions you so that you're straddling him, your knees resting on either side of his thighs. he wraps his arms around your waist, his touch possessive and firm, roaming over your body.

geto, noticing the change in location, gets up from the teacher's desk and slowly makes his way over to join the two of you. he takes a seat at the desk next to gojo, lighting another cigarette as he does. as soon as you settle onto gojo's lap, he grips your hips tightly, grinding his hardness against your core. a low groan escapes him, his eyes closing in bliss as he savors the sensation of being so intimately connected to you.

“you feel incredible,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. his hands roam freely over your body, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, dipping between your thighs to rub at your clit through your panties.

meanwhile, geto observes the scene with a heated gaze, taking slow drags of his cigarette as he watches gojo lose himself on you. gojo has you panting and writhing on his lap. there was no denying the heat in his gaze as he observed every move you made together. he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes never leaving your form.

gojo lets out a deep, rumbling moan as you start moving your hips against him and your fingers hold on tightly on his shoulder. your wet heat rubbing along his thick length through your clothes. his hands squeeze your ass tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he urges you on.

“that's it baby, ride my cock just like that,” he encourages, his voice husky with desire. as you grind against him, gojo reaches up to cup your breasts, thumbing over your nipples through your uniform. the friction combined with his touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, making you even more desperate for relief.

geto watches intently, his own arousal evident in the bulge growing in his pants. he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself on gojo's lap.

you keeps on grinding on gojo's clothes cock, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder and turn to your right to look at geto. moaning and grinding as you look at him.

“fuck—” you whimpering.

geto's eyes darken with lust as you meet his gaze, your needy little whimpers filling the air. he stubs out his cigarette, tossing it aside carelessly as he rises from his seat and stalks towards you. gojo notices geto approaching, a wicked grin spreading across his face. he slides one hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt out of the way to expose your soaked panties to geto's hungry eyes.

“there you go, baby,” gojo purrs encouragingly as you continue to grind on his rock-hard erection. “let suguru see what a dirty girl you are for us.”

geto looms behind you, leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “that's right, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. geto leans in closer, pressing his body against yours from behind. his hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples through your shirt.

“such a good slut,” he purrs in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “wet and leaking for satoru.” his other hand slips between your thighs, pulling your panties to the side and teasing his finger tips over your slick folds. “suck on ’toru's cock, baby,” geto whispers in your ear, smiling as he look at the white-haired boy. gojo return the smiled, “why don't you show me some tricks like you did with the ice cream before, hm?” gently, he cups your cheek.

geto back to sit on the table next to yours while you go down between gojo's legs with your knees press against the wooden floor, getting uncomfortable. without breaking eye contact with the special grade sorcerer, you kiss his clothes twitching cock before licking a damp on his pants where his precum leak through his pants.

gojo groans, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. he looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours as his breath hitches in his throat, “oh, god, that feels so good,” he tears another hoarse groan when he throws his head back for a second. your hands deftly undo his uniform buttons until his abs are revealed. you gently caress his chest, a thrill of excitement coursing through you as you notice his happy trails. with a playful smile, you place a tender kiss on them.

gojo lets out another low moan as your hands begin to unbutton his uniform, his muscles tensing under your touch. he watches you as you kiss his happy trail, his eyes burning with desire. “you’re so good at this, baby,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

gojo shivers at your touch, his abs flexing under your fingers. he lets out a soft moan as you kiss his happy trail, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “fuck. . . you’re driving me crazy,” he whispers.

gojo lets out a strangled moan as you kiss, lick and nibble on his abs. he can feel your hands on his hips, holding him in place, and it only drives him wilder with need. “oh god, baby,” he gasps, his hips arching up off the table involuntarily. geto watches from his seat, his eyes narrowing as he takes another drag from his cigarette. his jaw is slightly clenched, and he seems to be struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

gojo looks down at you, his eyes burning with desire. he can hardly keep himself still as you keep going, his body twitching and trembling with need. he reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair and gently tugging it. “look at me,” he commands. you look up at gojo, meeting his intense gaze. his eyes are like pools of molten lava, burning with a hunger that only you can satisfy. he loosens his grip on your hair, gently stroking it instead. “you’re so goddamn beautiful, you know that?”

“am i?” you whisper. your pretty, sparkling eyes looking through gojo's soul as you painfully slow unfasten his belt. gojo watches you with hooded eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he threads his fingers through your hair. gojo nods, his hand continuing to caress your hair. “yes, you are. you have no idea how much you drive me wild.” he gazes down at you, his eyes burning with desire and affection. “you’re the most gorgeous girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he whispered. he bites down on his bottom lip, trying not to moan too loudly in response to your teasing tongue after it touches his abs for the second time.

he shifts slightly in his seat, allowing you better access to his throbbing member. you can practically see him grow longer and wider under your touch, the tip glistening with pre-cum. once freed from its confines, his impressive size stands proudly before you, a clear sign of how much he desires you. the head of his dick pulses, leaking pre-cum faster now that it’s been exposed.

seeing how eager gojo is for you only fuels your excitement further as you lick along his length from base to tip with slow deliberate licks. you swirl your tongue around the head of gojo's cock, collecting the pre-cum on your taste buds. the salty-sweet flavor explodes in your mouth, spurring you on to take him deeper. with a gentle suction, you envelop the first few inches of his shaft in your warm, wet mouth. your tongue dances along the underside, tracing the prominent vein while your hands continue to caress his chiseled abdomen.

“jesus, y/n...” gojo lets out a soft groan, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. he watches with rapt attention as you bob your head up and down, taking more of him with each pass. from his perch on the table, he watches the erotic display unfold below him with his own cock strains against his pants, clearly eager for attention.

geto, who just lighten another cigarette, hold it between his left fingers after a faintly notification ring. he holds his phone on the other to look at the notification— a message from yuu. he reads a message from his underclassmen and chuckled, telling gojo that yaga caught shoko and nanami.

gojo’s eyes flicker up to geto when a chuckle passes his lips as the raven reads the message. “sounds like shoko and nanami got in trouble,” he says, a smirk on his face between his grunt, hand tightly around your hair. “l-looks like they’re the ones in the— fuck! doghouse n-now.” gojo rolls his eyes at the news, his attention still on you. “of course they got caught,” geto mutters, taking another puff with eyes still on the screen before adding, “those idiots have no sense of subtlety.”

he is smiling as he runs his hand on your hair, gently caressing them while his hips thrustin to your throat making his balls constantly slapping with your chin. “don't you think baby?” he ask. you— the girl who's cursing and calling him an asshole hour ago and now getting her throat fucked, going up and down on gojo-stupid-satoru's cock, only nodding.

gojo smiles as you nod, his hand continuing to gripping through your hair. he seems amused by the situation, enjoying having you at his mercy like this. geto puffs on his cigarette and watches the two of you from his seat, his eyes lingering on your lips around gojo's pink cock. “looks like you’re having fun down there,” he comments, a smirk on his face before chuckle.

gojo chuckles at geto’s comment, his hand giving your hair a harsh tug to push your head down to his cock until your nose touches his skin, forcing you to take his cock down to your throat. “shit!—” gojo groan, throwing his head back while you crying under his mercy and nail digging to his thigh. “she’s doing such a good job, so—ah! f-fucking good. . .” he mumble, back to fixed his eyes on you after he let you pushed yourself away from his cock, choking with tear down to your cheeks and chin wet from your saliva. “fuck, satoru, i can't fucking breath!” you look at him with tears in your eyes and lashes damp.

gojo chuckles at your words, his heart racing as he watches you come up for air. he gently wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his gaze softening. “you did so well, baby,” he praises gently, his hand caressing the side of your face. geto lets out a low whistle from his seat, his eyes dark with desire. “god, you do look good like that.” gojo looks up at him, his eyes darkened with lust and a hint of ownership. “you see what i mean? she’s so goddamn perfect.”

geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body with unabashed hunger. “oh, we’re definitely keeping you all to ourselves.”

“come here,” gojo hand meets your hair once again, “we're not done yet, baby,” his deep voice gently lures you in, again, like it always did. he pushed your head towards his tight, “i'm gonna spoil you rotten after this, don't worry.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before tugging your hair signaling for you to continue what you were doing.

“now be a good girl and finish what you started,” he husks, his eyes dark with desire. you feel another wave of heat wash over you as gojo's deep voice calls you back to him, his hand gently yet firmly guiding you towards his lap. you shiver as he kisses your forehead, his touch sending a spark of pleasure through your body. and when he tugs your hair, you can't help but comply, your body automatically moving back into position.

gojo lets out a low, possessive growl as you return to him. “that's my good girl,” he praises. you feel a shiver run down your spine at gojo's words, your body responding immediately to the low timber of his voice. you lean into his touch, letting him guide you back down to him, your heart racing with excitement. you can feel his body trembling slightly as you get closer to him, his muscles tense with anticipation. your lips are practically touching his length, your breath hot against his skin.

gojo's hand is still in your hair, and he gives it a slight tug, pressing your face closer to his still-hard cock. “go on, baby,” he coaxes softly. “make me feel good.”

with each languid lick you give his cock, gojo's grip tightens in your hair. he tilts his hips up, thrusting his length deeper into your mouth. his breathing grows heavier, a soft groan escaping him as he watches you work him over. the taste of his precum is intoxicating, making your mouth water for more. you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, coating it thoroughly before sucking him into your mouth.

the warmth of your mouth envelops him completely, causing him to hiss through clenched teeth, “fuck. . . just like that.” you can feel his hands on your body, gently yet firmly guiding your movements as you continue your task. gojo's eyes are darkened with desire as he watches you, his gaze fixed on your every move. he loves seeing you like this, completely submissive to his commands.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice thick with arousal, “so obedient. so perfect for us.” gojo's hips buck involuntarily as you deepen the suction, your throat constricting around his girth. he throws his head back, a string of curse words falling from his lips as he loses himself in the pleasure of your oral skills. your hands move to his balls, gently massaging them as you bob your head up and down his shaft. each stroke brings you closer to the root, your nose brushing against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock.

gojo's fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements as he grunts and moans, lost in the blissful sensations you're providing. the room fills with the sounds of slurping, sucking, and gojo's increasingly erratic breathing.

gojo's control starts slipping away as you continue to worship his cock with such enthusiasm. his hips begin thrusting upwards instinctively, seeking more of your warm, wet mouth. a low growl rumbles in his chest as he watches you work him over so skillfully. “shit... i'm gonna cum if you keep going like this...”

his warning comes out strained and ragged, but there's no real conviction behind it. instead, he pushes your head down further onto his cock, urging you to take all of him inside your mouth once again. gojo's control snaps, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. with a hoarse cry, he tenses, his cock pulsing violently as he spills his hot seed down your throat.

wave after wave of his release coats your tongue and the back of your mouth, the salty-sweet flavor overwhelming your senses. you swallow greedily, milking every last drop from his quivering member. as the aftershocks subside, gojo carefully pulls you off his spent cock, his chest heaving with exertion.

“you're incredible,” he rasps, still catching his breath, “i don't know what i'd do without you, baby.” he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and adoration, stroking your cheek affectionately, “you really know how to make a man feel good and bring them to their knees,” he says approvingly, gives your cheek a light pinch before pulling you up onto his lap.

his arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close against his chest. you can hear his heartbeat quickening again, signaling his arousal wasn't fully satiated yet. with a sly smirk, he presses his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss. his tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting himself on your lips. gojo chuckles softly between the kiss, his voice still rough from the intensity of his climax.

as the kiss breaks, gojo smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “but let's not forget about our lovely suguru,” he whispers suggestively, nodding toward the other end of the table where geto is watching intently. he gestures for you to crawl over to geto while he cleans himself up. geto smirks, leaning back slightly on the table as he watches you two bask in the afterglow of gojo's climax. his eyes gleam with possessive pride, clearly pleased by the display of devotion between you and his best friend.

“i think we've established that by now,” geto drawls, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he exhales slowly, the smoke curling around his head as he regards you with a heated gaze. “but after my turn, we are not done with you yet, princess,” his voice deepen, soften.

he sets his cigarette aside, standing up from the table with a predatory grace. geto moves towards you, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a cat stalking its prey. “don't worry about satoru for now,” geto purrs, his voice low and seductive, “it's my turn to play with my favorite toy.”

geto reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. he spins you around, pressing you against the table as he leans in close behind you. his breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “time to show satoru just how well you can please two men at once.” his free hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher as he explores your wetness. “soaked and ready for me,” he murmurs approvingly, circling your clit with his thumb. “you love being used for our pleasure, don't you?”

“oh, suguru..” a soft moan escape from your lips.

without waiting for an answer, geto sinks two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in and out at a relentless pace. his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you steady as he fucks you with his fingers, making sure you feel every inch of his digits stretching you open.

between your whimpering and moaning you glance over at gojo, who's watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. his eyes are dark with desire, his cock already starting to stir again at the sight of geto claiming you so roughly.

too busy drinking on gojo's spend expression you don't realize geto positions himself between your spread thighs, lining up his thick erection with your entrance. without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“oh god!” you cry out, your body arching off the table as geto's girth stretches you impossibly wide. he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon, each stroke hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that sends sparks flying behind your eyelids. your hands gripping at nothing on the table while geto fuck your from behind.

gojo's gaze never leaves yours, his expression a mix of awe and hunger as he watches geto take you with such ferocity. “fuck, look at her take it,” geto's command sends a thrill through your body, heightening your arousal even further. as instructed, you look over at gojo, who is watching intently with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. seeing both men so focused on you, so consumed with desire, is incredibly arousing.

“s-suguru..” you gasp as geto aligns his throbbing cock with your slick entrance, teasing you with the head before plunging into your clenching walls once again. a loud moan rips from your throat as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, filling you completely. your palm nailed unstable against the tabletop, desperate for support.

each thrust is powerful and precise, designed to drive you insane with pleasure. geto's hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him as he pounds into you relentlessly.

your cries of ecstasy fill the air, mingling with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin as geto takes you hard and fast. sweat beads on your brow, trailing down your sides as he ravages your body, claiming you as his own.

gojo's gaze remains locked on the erotic spectacle, his cock twitching with renewed interest. “such a perfect little slut for us,” he praises, his voice husky with lust. “love seeing you get fucked senseless.”

geto picks up speed, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. “gonna fill this cunt up,” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “make you mine, all mine.”

geto's declaration sends a shiver down your spine, his dominant words igniting a fire within you. you're lost in the intense pleasure of his possession, your mind foggy with need as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

“yes, yes!” you cry out, your nails raking down his arm as the pleasure builds to an unbearable crescendo. “fill me up, suguru! claim me!“ geto's words send a shiver down your spine, his dominant tone igniting something primal within you. you meet his thrusts eagerly, rocking your hips to take him deeper, harder.

just when you think you can't take anymore, geto's movements become jerky and uncoordinated. with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt one final time and holds still, his cock throbbing violently as he spills his hot seed deep inside you.

the sensation of his cum flooding your womb triggers your own climax, waves of pure bliss crashing over you as you come undone beneath him. his release triggers your own climax, and you come undone beneath him, screaming your pleasure for all to hear. your inner muscles clamp down around his spurting cock, milking him for every last drop as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

as the aftershocks of their shared climax ripple through your bodies, geto pulls out slowly, his cum leaking from your still quivering pussy. he steps back, admiring the sight of you sprawled across the table, panting and spent.

“perfect,” he murmurs appreciatively, his voice laced with satisfaction. he wipes his cum-covered length on your inner thigh, smearing you with evidence of his claim. gojo watches the entire exchange with hooded eyes, his own arousal evident by the bulge straining against his pants. “damn, suguru,” he says enviously, “i didn't know you could be so... gentle.”

the feelings of void inside you, the feeling of never getting enough of him making you crawl down from the table and get on your knee in front of geto. your warm hand takes his silk-with-cum cock into your hands, stroking it gently as your tongue licks his overly sensitive lip, cleaning his cum with your tongue.

geto's breath hitches as you tend to his spent cock, your tender ministrations a stark contrast to the rough fucking he just gave you. he leans back against the table, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss as you lap up every trace of his release.

“mmm, careful there,” he warns, his voice low and gravelly, “still super sensitive after that orgasm.” despite his words, geto doesn't pull away, seeming to enjoy the intimate act. his hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he guides your mouth along his shaft.

when you reach the tip, he tugs gently, encouraging you to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head. a shudder runs through him, and he lets out a contented sigh. “that's it, baby. clean me up nice and thorough.”

“umm..” you hummed against his length, slowly running your tongue from the base before moving under his mushroom tip. your thumb gently caressing his tip. geto's hips give a small jerk as your talented tongue explores every inch of his cock, from the heavy base to the delicate underside of the head. he hums in approval, his fingers tightening in your hair as he savors the sensations.

when you focus your attentions on the sensitive area beneath the tip, geto's breath catches. his cock twitches in your hand, and he lets out a low, needy moan. “fuck, just like that,” he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure, “use that clever tongue of yours.”

as you continue to worship his spent length, geto's other hand comes up to join the first, cradling your face as he guides your movements. his touch is gentle yet possessive, a reminder of the dominance he displayed earlier. despite being thoroughly used, he seems to crave more of your affection, your submission.

geto's chest rises and falls with each slow, deliberate lick you bestow upon his oversensitive cock. his hips twitch slightly, as if trying to follow the path of your tongue. the touch of your thumb to his lip elicits a soft moan, his head falling back in surrender.

“that's so good,” he breathes, his voice heavy with pleasure, “keep going like that, and i might just have to start getting hard again.” as if to prove his point, geto's cock twitches in your grasp, the tip already beginning to swell with renewed interest. you continue your sensual ministrations, determined to bring him to full mast once more.

geto's warning only spurs you on, your tongue dancing along his length with increased fervor. you can feel his cock growing harder in your hand, the veins pulsing with renewed blood flow. his moans grow louder, more desperate, as he loses himself to the pleasure you're providing.

“ah, fuck... right there,” he gasps, his hips bucking slightly as you focus your attention on the sensitive spot beneath the head. “don't stop, please...” geto's grip on your hair tightens, almost painfully so, but you don't mind. in fact, it only adds to the intensity of the moment, making you feel owned, claimed by this powerful man. you redouble your efforts, determined to bring him to the brink once more, to make him surrender completely to your skilled mouth.

your diligent efforts soon pay off, as geto's cock begins to thicken and lengthen in your hand. a bead of precum forms at the tip, glistening in the dim light of the room. his breathing grows ragged, and his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on.

“nnngh, that's it,” he grunts, his hips rolling subtly as he tries to grind against your mouth, “want to feel that tongue on my cock again.” emboldened by his reaction, you redouble your efforts, swirling your tongue around the head and tracing the ridges of his shaft. geto's moans grow louder, more desperate, as he teeters on the brink of another climax.

“just a bit more,” he pleads, his voice strained with need, “need to cum again, baby. make me lose control.” geto's pleas for release fuel your desire to please him, to see him unravel beneath your touch. you increase the pace of your strokes, your tongue working overtime to bring him closer to the edge.

“fuck, yeah...“ he groans, his body tensing as he approaches the precipice. his cock pulses in your hand, the vein throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. another bead of precum appears, this time dripping onto your waiting tongue.

“cum for me suguru,” you murmur against his length. encouraged by his responsiveness, you lean forward, taking the swollen head into your mouth. your lips stretch wide to accommodate his girth, your tongue flicking against the sensitive spot underneath.

“shit, right there,” he gasps, his voice laced with raw desire, “gonna... ahh, fuck, gonna cum.” you increase the pace of your ministrations, your tongue flicking over his length with relentless precision. each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through him, and he can't help but rock his hips in time with your movements.

“shit, that's it...” he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he fights against the wave of pleasure building within him. “gonna fill your mouth this time, baby.” his cock pulses in your hand, the tip gushing with precum. you can taste it on your tongue, salty and musky, and it only serves to fuel your desire to bring him to completion.

with a few more expert strokes, geto reaches his limit. his body tenses, a low growl escaping his lips as he cums once more. geto's cock throbs in your hand as his orgasm hits, his thick seed spurting from the tip to coat your eager tongue. you swallow every drop, savoring the taste and texture of his release.

“mmm, tastes so good,” you murmur appreciatively, your lips still wrapped around his length. you continue to suckle softly, milking every last drop from his cock before finally pulling away. you look at the man as she shaking almost uncontrollably from the action, drawing a satisfied chuckle from your lips.

geto takes a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. his cock gives one final twitch, releasing a tiny trickle of cum onto your hand. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

“you sure know how to handle a guy,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender touch that contrasts sharply with the roughness of moments ago.

“breathe, suguru,” you advise with a smirk, wiping a stray dribble of cum from the corner of your mouth. “you look like you've seen a ghost.” you chuckle as you stand up from your kneeling position before turning your attention to gojo, seeing him sitting on the table beside you with cigarettes between his fingers and phone on his other hand.

he then turns his gaze towards gojo, who was watching the entire display with evident fascination. “what do you think, satoru?” eto asks, a smug grin spreading across his face. “think she's got skills?” gojo raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable behind the smoke curling from his cigarette, “she certainly does,”

hearing the praise fill the air, you lean toward gojo, placing both hands on the table as you close the distance between you and the white-haired man. “you think so?” you ask, smiling before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

gojo leans into the kiss, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips. he pulls back after a moment, a sly smile playing on his lips. “i knew you had potential when i first saw you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “but this... this is impressive even for you.”

he takes another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he regards you with a heated gaze. “i think we should celebrate your newfound skills properly,” he suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief. “how about a threesome with suguru here? we could really put those talents of yours to the test.”

you snort before scoffing— the mocking one with no bite, cleaning your clammy hands with a paper from geto's textbook. “yeah right, like hell i'll let you two have a threesome with me here, in this stupid school,” you retort before throwing the paper to the ground. gojo chuckles, the sound is rich and smooth like velvet. “oh, come now,” he coos, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “we wouldn't dream of doing anything inappropriate here, where anyone could walk in on us.”

he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “besides, i think suguru would be more than happy to join us somewhere private. don't you agree, big boy?” gojo glances over at geto, who's been quietly observing the exchange with a predatory gleam in his eye.

the suggestion seems to stir something within geto, because he suddenly stands up, towering over both of you. “i'm game if you are,” he rumbles, his voice deep and husky with desire. “but we should probably take this somewhere else.”

you laugh with no sense of humor at the mention that they don't want to do anything inappropriate at school. “funny how you mention you won't do anything inappropriate here while i just give you two heads and let you fuck me,” you again laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as you turn to gojo, finger pointing at him for emphasis.

gojo arches an eyebrow at your pointed remark, a slow smile spreading across his face. “ah, but that's different,” he purrs, catching your finger and bringing it to his lips. he places a soft kiss on the pad of your fingertip before releasing it. “that was just a little preview of what's to come.”

he stands up, smoothing out his shirt as he moves to stand beside geto. the two of them loom over you, their combined presence overwhelming in the best possible way. “so, what do you say?“ gojo presses, his eyes locked on yours. “ready to take this party elsewhere and really let loose?”

geto nods in agreement, his own gaze intense and hungry as he waits for your response. it's clear they're not going to take no for an answer, but somehow, that only makes the prospect more enticing.

you scrunch your nose, “you two are hornballs, you know that right?”

both geto and gojo share a look, their amusement is clear despite the serious expressions on their faces. “well, when it comes to you, we seem to lose all reason,” gojo admits, his tone is light but sincere.

geto steps closer, his large frame casting a shadow over you. “and we don't mind admitting it,” he adds gruffly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. “you make us forget our own names sometimes.”

he reaches out, tracing a finger down your cheek before slipping it behind your neck. his grip is firm yet gentle, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. “so, what's it going to be?” he murmurs against your lips. “are you ready to lose yourself to us?”

just when you and geto start having fun, gojo's voice annoyingly rings in the room. “as much as i enjoy having fun here, i think we need to leave,” he shifts from his phone to the two of you.

waving his phone in the air, “just got a text from yuu that yaga is still looking for us.” geto lets out a low growl of frustration as gojo announces that yaga is still looking for them. he clearly doesn't want to stop, but he knows they have to be careful not to get caught.

“what is wrong with him?” you groan in annoyance as geto help you fix your uniform, “yaga acting like he's never young when he's worse than us,” you grumble in annoyance. gojo chuckles at your frustration, a sympathetic expression on his face. “yeah, he’s just being yaga.”

geto finishes fixing your uniform, his fingers deftly adjusting the collar and straightening the hem. “yaga's just trying to keep us in line,” he says, though there's a hint of bitterness in his voice. despite his words, he can't deny that yaga has a point— they shouldn't be causing trouble when they have bigger issues to deal with.

gojo pockets his phone, his eyes still sparkling with mischief despite the seriousness of the situation. “come on, let's find someplace less public to hang out,” he suggests, putting his cock back to it's coffin. “maybe we can convince yaga to lighten up once he sees how well behaved we are.”

geto rolls his eyes, his annoyance evident. “he’s being a pain in the ass, that’s what he’s being.” gojo nods in agreement, zipping his pants up and fastening his belt. “but he’s our teacher, so we’d better listen to him for now.”

“he teaches shit, always making us a punch bag with his stupid toys,” you spat. gojo and geto both laugh at your comment, knowing that you’re not exaggerating. yaga can indeed be quite rough when it comes to training. “yeah, he can be a little hard on us,” gojo agrees, running a hand through his hair. “but he’s just trying to make us stronger, you know?”

“whatever,” you wave your hand nonchalantly. gojo lets out a soft chuckle, finding your nonchalance amusing. geto chimes in, “don’t be too upset, princess. we’ll make it up to you later.” gojo took your bag and sled it over his shoulder, along with his bag.

“promises, promises,” you tease, giving geto a playful shove as you follow gojo out of the classroom. the halls are mostly empty, which means you can move quickly without drawing attention to themselves.

as you step outside, the fresh air hits you, cooling your flushed cheeks. “so, where to?” gojo asks, glancing around to get his bearings. he leads the way, choosing a path that will lead you away from prying eyes and towards a quieter part of the academy grounds.

you smile at geto after he pulls you closer by your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze in the process and kiss your shoulder. the raven kisses your cheek before he speaks, “how about we stop at my dorm, hm? continued what we left before,” his voice teasing you making you giggle as you look into his eyes.

a devilish grin spreads across geto's face at his own suggestion, his dark eyes flashing with lustful intent. “mmm, that does have a certain appeal, don't you think baby?“ he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. “but we'd better be quick about it.”

with that, he takes your hand and starts walking faster, eager to reach his dorm room and continue where they left off. gojo follows close behind, his eyes never leaving you as he watches every movement with keen interest.

you laugh as geto starts running, holding your hand, causing both men to join in the giggling. gojo chuckles softly, the sound muffled by the rush of wind against his ears. “seems like someone's eager,” he teases, glancing back at geto with a smirk. the sight of you giggling and bouncing alongside them only serves to fuel their excitement further.

once you reach geto's dorm, he wastes no time unlocking the door and pushing it open. “after you,” he says, gesturing grandly for you to enter first. as soon as you cross the threshold, he closes the door behind you, sealing off the world outside and leaving nothing but the three of you in the dimly lit space.

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theetherealbloom · 12 days ago

Text

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit

Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.

Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)

No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.

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

Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

| Main Masterlist |

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY

The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.

The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.

Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.

When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.

“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.

Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”

You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”

A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.

Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.

“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.

From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”

Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.

As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.

At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.

“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”

Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”

The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.

“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”

You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”

Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”

“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.

He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”

Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.

“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.

He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”

“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.

Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.

“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.

“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.

“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.

“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”

You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.

His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.

“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.

When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.

“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”

For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.

At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”

You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”

“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.

The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.

The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.

“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.

“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.

Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”

You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.

“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”

“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”

Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.

“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”

Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”

You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”

“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.

“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”

“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.

“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.

“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”

Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.

“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”

The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.

You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.

Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.

Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”

Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”

You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”

He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”

Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”

“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”

“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”

You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”

Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”

For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.

The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.

You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.

“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.

You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”

“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”

But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”

You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.

“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”

“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.

“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.

“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”

“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”

“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”

Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”

Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”

His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”

Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”

You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”

He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.

And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.

Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.

“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.

“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”

The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”

“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”

“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.

His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.

The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.

Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”

You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”

“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.

He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.

Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.

His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.

Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.

And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.

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