#and i was sitting there on the plane and could just feel his words ripping into me and the horrors rushing back in and i still haven’t

[pepprs]

im home and already swallowed by despair. can you believe i was in CHICAGO a few hours ago. and now im here. lol

[pprodsuga]

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

add yourself to my taglist !!

taglist: @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr.

[lupinqs]

FOCUS ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: practice gets a little steamy…

☆ ━ word count: 3.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smut (p eating, fingering, kinda public sex but ig not really)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: okay so this is SUCHHH a scrap, i have not proofread it either, it’s just not great, i’m not very happy with it but i wanted to post something so here it is i hope you all like it more than i do LOL

YOU’RE in Maryland, visiting Paige’s family. You and her got here a little under a week ago following the first round of Geno’s summer sessions. It’s been a lazy few days so far, full of long mornings spent in bed, video games on the couch with Drew, and afternoons tanning in the summer sun. It’s been nice; a solid break that the both of you need before what Paige has dubbed her “world tour” of the summer. You’re tagging along for parts of it—though not all of it—and it’s safe to say you’re not excited for the amount of plane rides and jet lag you’re about to face.

However, you and Paige both decided that a week of sitting on your asses might do more harm than good, so you’ve gathered yourselves at the local high school gym, getting some hoops in.

A few buddies of Paige’s, as well as Drew, tagged along in the beginning, but as the hours grew longer, they began to fizzle out. Drew is the last to leave, heading to his actual basketball practice with his own team.

And then it’s just you and Paige.

The two of you could leave now; you’ve certainly been here practicing long enough. However, you can see the itch of a smirk in Paige’s face and you know what she’s going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

“1v1?” she asks, a playful challenge in her eyes.

You smirk, taking the challenge as you always seem to do. “Not too scared you’ll lose again?”

Paige rolls her eyes at the reminder of the two of you’s last one-on-one game. She waves a hand, saying dejectedly, “You cheated.”

“Nope, you’re just a sore loser.”

Paige just shakes her head, grinning. “I’m not a sore loser because I didn’t lose.”

You decide that you’re not entertaining this. You’re well aware that she will continue bickering with you about it until you give in, admitting that she’s right and you’re not. It’s always this way; she will literally go on for hours if you let her. But, nonetheless, you both know the truth—which is, you definitely beat her in that game.

And, when you begin the game, the way the first few minutes are going makes you believe you may win this one, too. You’re up a good few points—Paige has been slacking on defense and you’ve been picking up the pace on offense. When you get another bucket on her, you grin widely, calling to your girlfriend, “Gee, you a little rusty, P Boogers?” You add the nickname KK’s created, knowing how much it annoys her.

However, Paige doesn’t bother responding, instead abruptly ripping her white long-sleeve over her head and tossing it across the gym on the other side of the court. Your grin falters at that, eyes soaking up Paige’s body. Jesus. Already, you can feel your heart start to race (and it’s not from the basketball game). Paige is wearing a Nike black sports bra, and, with her shirt now shed, the silver chains are on full display along her chest. Her basketball shorts are also rolled down, so that her whole torso is practically exposed, abs included. You feel your mouth salivate at the sight of Paige’s skin glistens with sweat, the way her abs flex, the way her arms look (you seem to grow fonder and fonder of them every day, especially since Paige has been in the weight room more often).

A small smirk paints Paige’s face as she takes in your surprised expression. She just raises her eyebrows, saying with a shit-eating grin, “What? It’s hot in here.”

You roll your eyes at Paige’s obviousness, opting to resume the game rather than respond to her. She’s back on offense, you on defense. You defend as you always would, hands raised, feet tracking your opponent’s, eyes flitting between the ball in Paige’s hand and Paige’s face. However, as your eyes trail between the two, they can’t help but track Paige’s abs, the sweat shining on her porcelain skin, the way her chains go with her every movement. You swallow thickly, doing your absolute best to concentrate on the game instead of your extremely sexy girlfriend.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Paige teases, dribbling the ball slowly. The nickname makes your heart stutter. “You’re gonna lose if you keep staring.”

And then she powers forward, scoring a layup with no hesitation. She grins and cocks her head at your bad defense, tsking as she asks, “Where’d that focus of yours go, hmm?”

Your cheeks flush at her words, and you grab the basketball, doing your best to lock in. “Nowhere, I am focused,” you argue, trying to get past the blonde’s defense.

“Oh, sure,” Paige murmurs in your ear, now with her front pressed flush against your back as you dribble, attempting to find a hole. She catches the way your face turns, looking to get through, but instead your eyes once again catch the chains that have begun to stick to her skin due to the sweat. Her smirk only grows, and she adds slowly, mockingly, “You are focused. Just… not on the game, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you grunt against her, trying to get a shot in. She doesn’t let you, blocking it. You groan a little as her hands snake around the ball, effectively stealing it from you.

“I will once you tell me what you’re so focused on that has you distracted from the game. You were just doing so well, beating me for once,” she says, egging you on.

You scoff, snapping, “You know damn well what I’m focused on.”

“I wanna hear you say it, baby,” she taunts, blue eyes squinting with mischief.

You hold her gaze for a long second. You could give her what she wants, say that the only thing you’re really able to focus on right now is just how fucking sexy she looks and how much you’d love to rip her clothes off right here, right now and fuck her. But, of course, you don’t. You’re just as stubborn as Paige is, so you simply utter, “No.”

A look of annoyance—that satisfies you very much—flits across her face. She shrugs, saying, “Fine then.”

You continue the game, but things seem to only be looking worse for you. No matter how much you try to fight it, try to focus on the basketball and the basketball only, it’s like your eyes have a mind of their own, and they seem to stay locked on Paige’s body. And, of course, Paige takes every opportunity she can to flaunt it, knowing full well the effect it has on you. Her smirk never fades, especially as she gets closer and closer to winning.

However, it seems like Paige has finally had enough with the teasing. She drives to the basket, right past you (you let her; you’re done with this game), making a final layup. She then turns to you, catching sight of the way you stand there watching her, having not bothered to defend that final play. “Game over,” Paige announces. You can’t help but notice how her voice is lower, more huskier than usual. It means you’re probably going to get what you want.

You step closer, eyes darkening with pure want. You’ve given up pretending that you don’t. “You’re such a tease, Bueckers.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “Maybe you just needa learn to focus better.”

The air between you is charged, and before you can even respond, Paige has you pushed against the wall of the gym, her chest pressed against yours, her face so close her nose nearly touches your own. The sound of the both of your breathing fills the space, heavy and expectant.

Paige’s eyes lock onto yours, and—without an ounce of hesitation—she leans in, her lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. It’s almost instinctual at this point, the way your respond to it. Your hands find their way to Paige’s back, pulling her closer as the blonde’s tongue traces your lips slowly, seeking entry. You willingly part them, allowing Paige to explore your mouth passionately. She’s going fast, and if you weren’t so used to it, it might’ve been hard for you to keep up. Nevertheless, you do, albeit with a couple teeth clashes.

Paige’s hands slide from their spot on your hips up to cup your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own fingers trail from her back, tracing her sweaty skin, until they thread through Paige’s hair, effectively ruining the once slicked back bun (not that either of you care much).

Paige breaks away from your mouth, trailing a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. You can’t help but tilt your head back, granting the blonde better access to your neck. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the shallow pants escaping your mouth as Paige’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear.

And then you feel her teeth biting. It’s not enough to truly hurt, but it’s enough to elicit a whimper from you—a sound that Paige loves. She does it again, gets the same reaction, and then soothes the area with a flick of her tongue. Paige’s kisses trail down the expanse of your neck, surely leaving marks that you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. But you don’t have it in yourself to care much about that because each press of Paige’s lips, each gentle scrape of her teeth, each soothing lap of her tongue, sends shivers down your spine and heat through your core.

Your hands tighten in Paige’s hair as she reaches the hollow of your throat, sucking hard. You feel your hips involuntarily arch toward Paige, seeking more contact. The blonde smirks against your neck, pleased with your reaction. She moves lower, kissing along the line of your collarbone, hands sliding under your tank top to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

You feel your breath hitch as Paige grows more insistent, tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of sweat that permeates your skin. Her hands travel upward beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the underside of your breasts. Your eyes flutter open at that, remembering where you are.

“Paige, we really shouldn’t,” you say, but your voice shakes and your hands find their way to the blonde’s abs, tracing the defines muscles and betraying your words. “Anyone could walk in,” you add, attempting to keep yourself composed.

Paige’s lips capture yours in a fierce kiss, silencing your protests. Her hands are cupping your breasts through your sports bra now, and she manages to reassure you between kisses, “No one’s gonna walk in.”

And, just like that, your resolve seems to crumble. That always happens with Paige—it’s so easy with her, and, though, sometimes it does frustrate you, you usually don’t regret it. “Fuck, P,” you gasp, fingers digging into your girlfriend’s skin.

She grins against your lips, and her right hand slowly but surely trails its way from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. It slips beneath them and you feel yourself growing hotter—and wetter—with each passing second.

Paige’s fingers slowly begin to tease your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that make your knees go weak. It’s in stark contrast to her kisses, so fast-paced you can hardly breathe. Eventually, you manage to break the kiss, gasping raggedly, voice a mix of desperation and need, “Quit teasing.”

Paige’s smirk only seems to widen, and her pupils—which are blown so much that her blue eyes look nearly black—are full of lust. “Am I teasing?” she asks, fingers sliding through your slick folds.

You feel your heartbeat stutter and your core pulsing with utter need. “You know you are,” you mutter, glaring. She presses her thumb harder against your clit, though it’s not in the way you need it (and she knows it). “Quit it.”

“As you wish,” she murmurs, lips ghosting along your earlobe. Without hesitation, she dips two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion causing you to gasp loudly, arching against Paige’s touch.

“Shit,” you breathe out, hands gripping Paige’s sides for support. Your head leans back against the gym wall, and Paige resumes the kissing on your neck, marking it up even more. Her fingers continue inside you with a steady rhythm, each thrust drawing out sharp gasps from your lips.

“So wet for me, baby,” Paige says against your skin, biting your shoulder lightly as she curls her fingers. You outright moan at that, and she asks, “How long you been dripping like this, waitin’ for me?”

“All day,” you admit between whimpers, practically shaking against Paige. Her fingers go deeper, fucking up into you harder. “Paige, please,” you beg, eyes squeezing shut.

Paige’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Please what, baby?” she teases, fingers hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs feel like jelly.

“Fuck, your mouth,” you manage to gasp out between moans, body heating up with each passing second. “Please, P, I want your mouth.”

You watch as Paige’s eyes darken with hunger at your words, and you feel your heartbeat begin to quicken. “Whatever you want,” the blonde murmurs, voice filled with promise. She pulls her fingers out of you, savoring the way you practically whimper at the loss. Then, with deliberate slowness, she sinks to her knees before you, her hands sliding your shorts down with her.

Paige glances up at you, blue eyes full of a mischief and a smirk that you’ve had a habit of kissing off her face. You can’t help but think about just how fucking good Paige looks like this, cheeks rosy, lips kiss-swollen, sweat shining along every expanse of skin that’s exposed—which is a lot. Your eyes wander from her face to her chest and shoulders to her abs and back. And when your eyes meet hers again, the look in them… Jesus fuck. The sight is genuinely almost enough to make you come right then and there.

And you know that Paige knows the effect she has on you. You can tell in the way her smirk sits on her face, the way her eyebrows raise slightly, the way she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh—so close yet so far from where you really need her.

But she doesn’t tease for long, because when she finally reaches your core, she wastes no time, her tongue flicking out to taste you.

She starts with long, slow licks, gradually building the tension in you. Each stroke of her tongue makes you feel like you’re on Cloud 9 and about to have a stroke all at once. Your fingers tighten in her hair, hips arching toward Paige’s mouth, seeking more contact.

Paige understands—truthfully, she’s so familiar with your body at this point, that you can’t remember the last time she didn’t understand what you wanted—and she dips her tongue into your entrance. Her fingers trail from their grip on your hip to your clit, rubbing in firm, quickening circles. The dual sensation makes you cry out, your nails digging into the skin of your palm, your other hand tightening in Paige’s hair, pulling slightly. She lets out a satisfied hum against you at that, and the vibrations send a new wave of pleasure through you.

Paige knows exactly what you like, and she certainly uses that to her advantage. She curls her tongue inside you, seeking out that one spot that makes you see stars. The noises coming from your mouth begin to grow louder, your hips grinding against Paige’s face, still desperate for more.

“Fuck, Paige— God,” you moan, voice breaking. “I need… I need more.”

Surprisingly, Paige doesn’t make a comment about how needy you are, instead opting to do as you say. She pulls her tongue out, replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them deep inside your cunt. At the same time, she focuses her mouth back on your clit, sucking and licking so fervently you fear she might make you faint from her head game.

Paige can feel your legs trembling, the strain of standing becoming too much. Without breaking her rhythm, she throws one of your legs over her shoulder, giving herself more leverage, her tongue and fingers continuing their relentlessness. You can feel the pressure building within you, threatening to snap.

“God, you taste s’good,” Paige murmurs against your wet pussy. You catch the way your arousal is coating her chin and the sight of it—along with a deeper curl of her fingers—makes you moan loudly. “So sweet. ’Could do this all fuckin’ day, if you let me. ’Would make you come a million times over, baby.”

You cry out again, both at her words and the pace of her fingers curling and thrusting, the wetness of her mouth on you. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as you hover on the brink of release. Paige senses how close you are and doubles down, adding a third finger and sucking hard on your clit.

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the force of it. You moan out Paige’s name, your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that it has to hurt (though Paige doesn’t mind). She helps you ride out your high, her fingers and tongue working together to prolong your pleasure.

Finally, when your body goes limp and your breathing begins to slow, Paige pulls back, planting soft, soothing kisses along your inner thighs. She looks up at you, her lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied grin on her face.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige says, eyes trailing all along your body.

You can only nod, still too breathless to form a coherent response. Your heart swells as Paige stands, pulling you in for a kiss. Her tongue slips in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan against her lips, your hands wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. You stay like that for a moment—you savoring Paige, Paige savoring you—before finally breaking apart, both of you breathless and smiling.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs, planting a short peck on your lips. Then your nose. Then your forehead. “We should probably put your clothes back on, though, before someone does walk in on us.”

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Welcome Home - King Ben x Reader Smut!

Warnings: smut, ben cusses :)

Request: Hi! Could i request a king ben smut where he has like a tough meeting about some other country and goes into his office where the reader is waiting for him all sweetly and he just bends her over his desk and gets his frustrations out?

(The way he smiles makes my insides CHURN.)

Everything was planned to a T. After being gone for two weeks, visiting King Charming and Queen Cinderella, Ben was finally returning.

Chad had unfortunately, but not surprisingly, done a stupid business deal with some pirates off the coast of Auradon. Since he was technically in Auradon waters, Ben was the one who had to handle it. After sorting out the issues with the pirates, he’d gone to King Charming’s castle to discuss the matter further, leaving you to govern Auradon.

Not that you minded, you just missed your husband. A great deal. So his arrival needed to be perfect.

His plane would arrive the next morning and so you had taken the initiative to have everything prepared. You’d asked the staff to prepare his favorite meals, planned a date for the next evening, and as your own added touch, we’re now setting the biggest vase of blue roses on his desk.

You opened your phone, looking at the last text he’d sent you.

It was from this morning,

See you soon, my love.

You simply couldn’t wait.

Your days were lonely without him, as were the nights. And selfishly, you’d been missing something else. These past two weeks was the longest you and Ben had ever been apart and your body was definitely feeling the repercussions.

You really missed Ben.

ALL of Ben.

As you turned around, the door to his office opened. Your head looked backwards and your heart jumped at the sight of your husband. His bag fell to the floor at the sight of you.

You froze in place, leaning back on his desk.

“Wha- why are you back?”

He smiles.

“Wanted to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d be in my office, sweetheart.” He walks closer to you. “Are you not happy to see me?” His brow arches.

“No, I am I’m just confused-“ Your words are cut off by a kiss. Ben lifts you up sit on his desk, stepping between your thighs. As much as you want to give in, you push against his chest. “Wait, Ben… how was the meeting?”

His eyes roll.

"Horrible. Chad's dad is an asshole. Chad is an asshole. The pirates were assholes. Now, I'm finally home and I'd really, really like to fuck my wife. Is that okay with you?" His eyes flicker down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

"Uh... yeah sure. That's cool."

"Great." His hand wraps around your head, pulling you into him again, lips meeting yours. Your hands find his face, thumbs sliding over his cheeks and pull him closer.

His fingers trail down your body and then grab your waist.

"Ben..." He keeps kissing you. "Do you maybe wanna..." Another. "Go back to our room?" His fingers play with the hem of your blue dress.

His voice comes out hoarse and deep.

"No, I think we are gonna stay right here."

Ben's lips attached to your neck, fingers threading up into your hair to tilt your head back.

The other hand begins pushing your skirt up higher and higher. Your breathing turns uneven as your eyes dart around, hoping no one is going to walk in on your escapades.

"Ben, are you sure..." He pulls away harshly, glaring at you.

"Do I need to bend you over my desk, Y/N?" You suck in a breath as a deep blush crosses your cheeks. His eyebrows raise because of course he notices and then his eyes roll. "Oh for fucks sake."

And then before you can even blink, Ben has you bent over his desk with your skirt over your hips.

You whine as his hips roll into yours, fingers curling over the edge of his desk. Your head turns, ready to glare at him when he rips your underwear clean off.

Your eyes widen in surprise, stammering out his name but go silent when you feel him podding at your entrance.

His voice is hushed next to your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"A loss for words, honey?" His fingers tighten on your hips as he pushes into you. Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the table tightens as well. He gives you no time to adjust to him and begins ramming into you. You shove your face into your arm, biting the flesh to contain your lewd sounds. "Fuckin' hell. Missed you so much."

One of Ben's hands leaves your side to press down on your back and you arch in response. Though you cannot see him, Ben grins. He loves your body's response to his. He can never get enough.

His jaw sets as he nears his orgasm, he'd missed you so much that he could barely hold it in. The sounds of his groans fill the office, along with the slapping of hips and the wetness of your core.

Desperate to make you come before him, his fingers dip between your conjoined hips to circle your clit. You jolt in response, an especially loud moan escaping your throat, boosting Ben's already inflated ego even more.

Before either of you know it, your pelvic muscles squeezing uncontrollably around him and his body collapses onto yours, absolutely spent. The two of you are silent while you come down from your highs and then Ben places soft kisses across your shoulders.

"Welcome home, my king." He groans as he feels himself harden inside of you.

"Oh, honey..." He pulls back, ready for round two. "Welcome home indeed."

Not sure if this is what you had in mind but there ya go. Hope you enjoy:)

[fettuccin-e]

Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 3

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers- slow burn/case talk/yapping Spence

Part 2

In which you and Spencer help with a case virtually from his apartment after his hospital stay. 🧸 🖤

You had always thought time to work in mysterious ways. It could heal any wound yet allow it to fester. It could bring people together and rip them apart. Time was an enigma, especially to you. How much time did it take to recover from something like a near death experience?

How much time did it take to recover from trauma without allowing it to cripple?

“Y/N, my office,” Hotch calls out to you.

You’ve been on desk duty for a week, going crazy truthfully.

“Yes?” You ask when you see him.

“Reid is behind discharged today,” he informs you as you sit.

You don’t really know why you had to be called into his office for that information.

“The team is flying out to Atlanta. I’m going to need you and Reid working virtually. Are you able to see him home and work with him from there?” He asks.

“I don’t see why not, is this pertaining to the suspected serial down there?” All you knew was that people in the ghost hunting and supernatural communities were turning up dead.

“Yes, we will brief you via video chat while we’re on the plane,” Hotch nods.

You leave the office toying with a mix of emotions. You were eager to work on an active case, happy that Reid was being discharged, and nervous to see him.

Following that night you read to him, you recalled the quote in question that he had partially written.

One from Pride and Prejudice reading;

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

You had not mentioned it to him, nor had he said anything to you. When you showed up two days later with a copy of the book to read to him, he got agitated. He asked that you read something else or don’t at all.

It was strange, his behavior was strange. He had been happy to see you yet distant. Then you found that very same page with that portion of the quote crumbled up and thrown on the floor. Why?

You knew what that quote was about, it was about the moment Darcy realized he was developing feelings for Elizabeth despite not realizing it.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. Could he be feeling that way for you? Or you him? You feel your pulse in your throat as you recall the feeling times you stared to long at his waist or his hands. Perhaps listened too hard when he spoke because there was something soothing in his voice even when he was annoyed with you.

Why had that quote come to mind while you were reading to him that first night? And when and why did he trash it?

You were once again back to being irritated by him but not enough to hate him. You were more elated that he was better, that his voice was back, and that he was cleared to go home.

You had a feeling that he insisted on helping with this case. You were fine with that. You could do this, you would just push the strangeness of Jane Austen’s words and Reid away.

So you swallowed those feelings, cleared your throat and stepped into his hospital room for the last time.

“Time to go home,” you announce as you enter.

He was spinning himself around absentmindedly on the doctors chair when he came into view. He smiled, delighted most likely to be going home. He was dressed, freshly, and showered. Save for the incision scars on his throat, he looked like himself. You think the scars somehow make him more sexy but you swat the thought away as soon as it occurs.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” his voice is low and raspy.

You hadn’t heard him talk yet and it took you off guard. Not because he sounded hideous. Quite the opposite, actually. It came off as sultry, like he was half asleep. Shit.

“You’re welcome,” you grin.

You’re standing in the doorway still, aware that you’re not sure what to do with yourself. What was your problem? Damn, it’s just Reid. Annoying old Reid. The same brainiac Reid.

Yet sexier somehow, probably because he almost died taking a bullet in your stead.

You collect all of the discharge information and prescription for his liquid diet formula grossness and before you know it, he’s easing into your passenger seat.

“How long until you can eat proper solid food again?” You ask as you try to fill the calm silence in the car.

“They’re going to reevaluate me in two weeks,” he answers, his voice like sand paper.

“Sorry you probably should talk as little as possible,” you wince because it sounds painful.

“Talking strengthens the vocal cords,” he informs. “I came dangerously close to never being able to speak again. In fact about 73 percent of patients with this type of trauma lose the ability to talk completely.”

You smile to yourself. The way he needs to blurt information is so endearing.

Your phone pings with the BAU group chat:

“Wheels up in 30,” from Hotch.

“Okay we need to get the laptop set up at your place by the time they take off so we can sit in on the case briefing,” you punch the gas to ensure you get there on time.

Reid sits up a little in his seat.

“Are you scared of my driving?” You ask.

“No?” He lies. You narrow your eyes playfully but don’t respond.

You and Reid are patched in with Garcia and the rest of the team just in time. Reid seems slight uncomfortable in the wooden chair with the way he has to hold his neck so you help him with some pillows.

“Cara Lynch, Jane Wilbur, and Mason Riley all found murdered and dismembered in the old mill plant on the east side,” Hotch starts.

“Ten days later, James Marlon and Ryan Finch met the same fate in a separate infamously haunted place,” JJ says.

“Ghost hunting seems to link all of these victims,” Hotch says.

“Were they recording at the time of their deaths?” Reid asks in a gravely voice.

“Tripods recovered, no cameras or audio recording equipment. It seems the unsub took it,” Morgan answers.

“Manner of homicide?” You ask.

“Shot, with arrows in vital organs. Each victim shot twice,” Prentiss says as she flips through the photos.

Both you and Reid seem to wince at the mention of being shot. But neither of you acknowledge it to the other.

More details are shared about the limb removal possibly being a forensic countermeasure before the team starts spitballing profile points.

"The use of arrows by the unsub suggests a need for a sense of precision and control. Arrows are often associated with hunting, so the unsub may view their victims as prey. Additionally, the fact that the victims are ghost hunters could indicate a belief by the unsub that they are somehow deserving of this punishment. It's possible that the unsub sees themselves as some sort of vigilante, targeting those who they believe are meddling in the supernatural realm,” Spencer muses. His speech is slower but the team is patient with him, more in tune with what he has to say than usual.

“I would point of alternatively that the arrows symbolize a form of justice or retribution in the eyes of the unsub. The unsub may believe that the victims, in their pursuit of the supernatural, have disrupted the natural order or crossed a line that they deem unacceptable. By using arrows as a weapon, the unsub may be trying to send a message that their actions have consequences and that they are being punished for their perceived transgressions,” you add. Reid glances over at you but says nothing.

“Given the victomology I can believe that this unsub believes the ghost hunters have crossed some sort of line,” Rossi says. “Maybe he’s religious?” Prentiss asks.

“The-“ Spencer starts but you inadvertently cut him off. He’s unable to speak over you like he used to.

“Sorry,” you squeeze his arm but continue. Just as you start talking, his hand moves to your knee. “In Christianity, arrows can symbolize strength, protection, and divine intervention,” you say. You could continue but pause for Spencer to add his thoughts, your mind glitching at the contact of his hand on your knee. The jeans didn’t seem like enough of a barrier for how heated your skin became.

“The unsub may view their actions as a form of divine justice or punishment for those they believe are engaging in sinful or forbidden practices,” he finishes simply, and removes his hand.

He doesn’t seem upset by you speaking over him which is almost out of character. He wasn’t nearly as aggravated with you anymore. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned in this new attitude… or lack thereof.

The team signs off and you and Spencer are instructed to work on the geographical profile until further notice.

You find yourself absentmindedly inspecting his endless rows of books while he uses his protractor on the map. The geographical profile had been relatively easy to put together since there were only two locations.

The tension and silence stretches out between you, things unsaid. What was that?

You turn your attention back to him when he stands, placing photos on the white board.

“To go searching for ghosts only to become one, kind of ironic right?” You sigh and add to the board with him.

“Unfortunate, but the risk that urban explorers and paranormal investigators put themselves at in these locations is relatively high. It’s why I don’t personally see them as low risk victims,” he says.

“True but they aren’t a high risk, nothing indicating drug use, an inclination towards petty crimes, or sexual deviancy,” you reason.

“Trespassing is a petty crime,” he insists. You narrow your eyes on him as his long fingers press a magnet over a crime scene photo.

“And part of the job,” you retort.

“The same could be argued about shooting a bank teller during a robbery,” he turns to you with his eyes up. “Doesn’t make it any less a crime.”

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath fanning against your face.

“You-“ you begin, pointing your magnet at him.

“I what?” He taunts you, dares you to finish that sentence. The rasps in his voice goes straight to your head. He outwitted you, you both knew it. He plucks the magnet from your hand and slaps in onto the board.

“I’ve resigned myself not to compete with you anymore,” you smirk and step out of his vicinity which fogged your head.

“Hardly a competition,” he murmurs.

“What is with you?” You whirl on him. “It’s like you don’t know how to act all of the sudden. You want to be an asshole? Fine, I’m used to that. But don’t touch me and then turn on me. It’s confusing,” you explode.

He blinks, stunned by your fury. Then he smirks.

“I get under your skin don’t I?” It’s a cocky rhetorical question.

“Your mood swings do,” you bite out.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he drops into the chair and picks up a pen. “Did you know hatred and desire are two of the most powerful feelings we experience?”

You knew that, of course. Fine line between love and hate and all that.

“As such it’s easy for them to become intertwined,” he whirls the one around his fingers. He clocks you watching the movement, seeming to further prove the point.

“Are you speaking from personal experience? Or just yapping like you always do?” You take a step towards him. He raises his eyebrows.

“Yapping?” He laughs.

“Maybe you should stop talking, your voice is becoming hoarse,” you say indignantly. How dare he insinuate that you hated him and now want him. Neither were true. You think.

“What if I don’t? What if I decide to recite every word of the Lord of the Rings novels to you?” He lifts his chin, his voice teasing.

“You don’t have the gall,” you grumble in annoyance. Mr. Eidetic memory with his very own weapon. You lean place your palms on the back of his wooden chair, briefly glancing at the case file in front of him, hoping he wouldn’t…

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…”

“Not another word or something awful might befall you and you may end up in the hospital again,” you flick his ear.

He lulls his head back and dramatically feigns choking to death. Before you know it both of you are laughing.

Somehow your hand ends up resting on his shoulder, causing the laughter to slow until you both were painfully aware of the physical contact.

You clear your throat and gesture at the file.

“What was, um what is her cause of death again?” You already knew but you needed to say something to distract from the sudden shift in energy. “Which organ was pierced…” you clarify.

He glanced back and upward at you, those eyes full of something you’d never seen from him. A sense of uncertainty, vulnerability, and need?

You’re unsure why, as though being controlled by a force outside of yourself but you trail your hand up his neck, gently massaging the back of his head. Goosebumps prickle his neck as he turns his attention back to the table. You don’t miss the white knuckled grip on the pen.

“All of them took an arrow to the heart, that’s a shared trait,” his voice is low, distracted.

“A signature?” You hum and run your fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. The strands are soft, moving between your fingers gently as you soothingly massage his head.

You hear him groan deep in his chest and he’s inadvertently leaning his head into your touch. You swallow hard, unsure about this sudden need to touch him. More than that, you wanted to hear other noises he could make.

“Second arrows hit various organs between the victims,” he leans forward from your grip to lay the photos out.

The absence of him causes you to frown, but you turn to the white board.

“He’s a skilled marksmen if he could hit them all in the heart in the darker locations where they died,” you state the obvious and write it on the board.

“Military training?” He asks.

“Not with bow and arrows, he may have had personal lessons. Ask Garcia to check with archery ranges inside of the geographical profile,” you say.

He shoots Garcia a text and places his phone down awaiting results.

You’re scribbling on the board when you hear him approach, he’s behind you, so devastatingly close that you can hear him breathing. His body heat warms your back, you falter but keep writing.

Now your body is tingling because he leans his mouth closer to your ear, fanning his breath across your neck.

“You spelled ‘toxophilite’ wrong,” he whispers. You flatten your hand over the word and smudge the blue ink.

“Maybe if you weren’t standing so close,” you hiss.

“Do you want me to move?” He reaches up and sweeps your hair back over your shoulder. You don’t respond, you stop breathing. Stop thinking.

You shudder when his lips find the soft spot of your neck, small kisses planted delicately until your own moan escapes you.

“That pesky line between hatred and desire,” he tutts and steps back.

You bite your tongue, after all you teased him first. The simple touch of his lips on your skin had your body heated up and your insides twisted with need.

You contemplated throwing the marker at his big head as he leaned over the table but refrained.

It was probably for the best because Hotch and Garcia rang in on FaceTime.

Whatever the hell was happening with you and Spence was going to take time. Luckily, the team had given you both the leeway needed to heal. Who knows what’ll happen in the mean time.

[liillyliilly]

Float On

kozume kenma x reader words; 1723 synopsis; they were literally made for each other- kenma needs her like he needs air to breathe.

It comes to a point where things get stressful for Kozume Kenma. When the world collides with his happy little bubble of composure and complacency. When that happens, he just wants to fold into himself and be left alone. He just wants to be allowed to feel what he is feeling.

Kuroo always says that “Everything is going to be okay.” But that isn’t helpful in the slightest. How can everything be okay when he knows it isn't?

Whereas she tells him “Yeah life sucks. Wanna drive my car super-fast and scream the lyrics to that one song you like?” He doesn’t know what it is that she does, how she changes the mood. How she can keep the context but shift the feeling.

In a world that tells him everything is going to be okay; She thinks realistically. People die, people change things, people hurt, people kill, people can be cruel, but just for a second, he can be happy while knowing that other things aren’t. He’s allowed to be scared. He’s allowed to want to filter the static.

And when he wants to do that, she's there to help.

“Kenma, I have an old math textbook from like, first year in middle school. Wanna rip it up with me? Since you texted telling me that you weren’t feeling the best, I thought getting it out by-” Kenma rushed to her and hugged her tightly. His face pressed into her neck.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For helping me to learn how to float.” She raised her eyebrows, but hugged him back.

“We can float together.”

All good things must end eventually though.

Kenma was playing video games with her when it rapidly began to change. She picked up a phone call. When she went just outside his room, he could hear several key words.

Really?

Accepted?

Waitlist.

Soon?

Deal.

She comes back into his room looking enchanted. She runs a hand into her hair. She uses her other hand to cover her mouth. She starts laughing. She looks at him.

“I got in.”

“Got into what?” When Kenma pauses his game, he realizes he’s in love. Something about her has changed. And he really didn’t want it to. She’s talking but he only listened to the first sentence.

“A foreign exchange program for an entire year away from Japan.”

That didn’t sit right. Away from Japan? But, away from Japan meant away from Tokyo. Away from Tokyo meant away from Nekoma. Away from Nekoma meant away from him. Kenma shakes his head.

“You’re not going.” She looks taken aback.

“I’m going.” She clarifies.

“You can’t.” He says.

“All expenses paid.”

“You’re scared.” He muses.

“Scared but excited.”

The mood is there. The static comes rushing in. The context is still there. The feeling has stayed the same. She hasn’t changed any of it like she was supposed to. She was supposed to change everything and she was supposed to stay the same. But instead, she has changed everything and also changed herself.

Suddenly instead of floating, he’s drowning. And she isn’t there to take him out of the water.

He manages to survive the time spent overseas. It was difficult. Unbelievably painful. When he would lie on his bed at night when he was supposed to be sleeping, he would imagine that she was happily getting along with her new classmates.

During the day, while he was looking out the window during class, he would imagine that Y/N was sleeping soundly with the stuffed cat that she had bought for him originally. But when they were at the airport and she was crying and saying her goodbyes, he slipped the stuffed animal in her backpack.

She tried to contact him every day, but the timing was all off. He tried to contact her every day, but the timing was all off.

When he reads her messages, he takes a step up. Climbing the ladder to get out of the water. He doesn’t need her to help him float. But he still wants her there for him.

So maybe that’s why he’s the first one to get to hug her when she gets off the plane. Maybe that’s why he’s the one to get dinner with her. So maybe that’s why he’s the one who listens to her talk for hours on end about her time overseas. And he knows why he’s the one to kiss her when she says that she only really missed him while she was gone.

Now, Kenma Kozume floats on. And she floats with him.

Sun streamed through the skylight; soft snoring sounds echo in the home. Kenma shifts slightly in the bed, rubbing his face against the pillow before resting again. The smell of wet plants from the morning dew blow in from the open window. The bed smells like dryer sheets and Kenma’s avocado shampoo. Everything is at a pause. Until his phone beeps. Kenma groans and stretches his arms upwards to shake off his sleepiness. He scratches the top of his head as he swings his legs off the side of the bed.

“Kenma.” Y/n calls out, failing her arm as she tries to grasp onto Kenma. Kenma turns around and holds her hand. Y/n lets out a content hum. When Kenma tries to stand up, she just holds onto his hand tighter.

“I gotta go pick up my phone.” Kenma leans back over the bed to press a kiss to her temple.

“Don’t. Just stay in bed.” She pulls his hand toward her, causing him to become unbalanced and he falls back onto the bed. His head landing on her back, then she turns around so he is resting on her stomach instead. She takes her chance and starts running a hand through his hair.

They lay like that for a while. Kenma comfortably situates himself again so that is he hugging Y/n’s waist as she plays with his hair and draws shapes on his shoulders. The blankets are tangled all around their limbs and outside their apartment, someone is playing their piano in the streets. Kenma leans up to kiss Y/n, when she pulls her head away Kenma pouts.

“Kiss?” He asks, leaning in again.

“Not when you have morning breath.” She gives a toothy grin as she laughs and throws her head back onto her pillow. Kenma gets out of bed and enters the bathroom, brushing his teeth with diligence. When he comes back, he crawls on top of her before dropping and laying down, encircling his arms around her. He lets out a breath onto her face. Y/n shakes her head in amusement before giving him a kiss.

She was sitting at her desk, tapping her pencil onto her notepad. Kenma was walking around the house tidying up the place, but the only reason why was because she told him to before he started playing some of his video games. Kenma notices that she hasn’t written anything down for her college project that was due in a few weeks. After watering a few of the plants hanging out on the small balcony he sets the water container down on the couch side table before walking over to her.

He puts his hands on her shoulders, pressing his lips onto her neck as a form of motivation or a way to inspire her to get started on her project.

“Do my project for me.” She demands. Putting her hands on the desk and letting her pencil roll off the notebook and onto the floor.

“I can't do that.”

“Why not?” She moves her arms behind the chair and lets them hang limp, as she rolls her head and eyes in synchronization, before using her left foot to push against the table to spin around in a circle, groaning.

Kenma smiles at her antics before pulling her out of the chair and setting his hands on her waist.

“Because I know you can do it.” He brushes his nose against hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and rests their foreheads together.

“I'm only doing this so some of your strategic skills can pass from your brain to my brain.”

“And I'm okay with being used.” His statement causes her to laugh and lurch forward accidently bumping their heads together. Thus causing both of them to laugh harder, holding their stomach as they howl with laughter and slight pain from hitting their heads together.

Kenma calls out, picking through the Chinese food sitting on the dining table.

“Yeah?” She answers from where she was standing in the bathroom doing her nighttime routine. Splashing water onto her face, causing it to make her shiver a little at the difference in temperature.

“Did you eat my fortune cookie?”

“RUN!” She bolts into the bedroom from the bathroom and locks the door. “I did eat your fortune cookie but only because I got a bad fortune in my own cookie!” She reasons while Kenma tries to pick the lock with a bobby pin that he had used to put his hair up while eating.

“That's not how fortunes work sweetheart.” Kenma finally unlocks the door to see her holding a pillow as a weapon.

He sighs. He would give up all the fortune cookies in the world for her. He would buy her all the fortune cookie that she wanted. Just so long as he was the only one who got to be around her as often as he did. All Kenma wants is to be around and be with her, because that’s what feels right. It had felt right when they were barely second years in high school, and it continues to feel right as university second years.

She drops the pillow and runs up to Kenma to give him a hug. “I’ll give you both fortune cookies next time, I promise.” His shirt smells like jojoba oil and the rose detergent they use for their laundry.

“No, you won’t.” He holds her close and places his chin on her shoulder. Kenma thinks he could just stay like that for forever. Listening to her heartbeat and feeling her soft cotton shirt with his fingertips as he hugs her.

“You’re right. I won’t.” It comes out as a whisper before she begins to tickle his sides as a sneak attack.

[samandcolbyownme]

OOO can you write fem reader x jake fluff to smut? Like reader having been away to film a vid with sam n colby in another country and she finally gets back? love your writing its MWAH

Warnings: strong language, sexual and suggestive language, hints at sexting, fluff mostly I’ll do a part 2 at some point

Enjoy!

══════════════════

“I bet Jake is itching to see you.” Sam chuckles, “This is the first time you’ve been away from each other for more than a few days right?” You look at Sam and nod, “Two days is the most, anything more is..” you sigh and shake your head, laughing as the flight attendant announces take off.

You make sure neither boy on either side of you are looking at your phone before you open the thread because as you suspected, photos you sent Jake to hold him over for the duration of the plane ride are on full display.

You text him - quickly, On the plane getting ready for take off. I love you. I can’t wait fuck, I mean hug and kiss you. You hit send and put your phone on airplane mode. You get out your headphones, slipping them over your ears before you turn on your music.

You smile as one of Jake’s favorite songs plays. You try to follow along to the words, the beat of the music, but you just can’t.

You were needing Jake.

Craving, aching, yearning for him.

You knew you were flying home to some good welcome home sex, but you needed to calm down now. You glanced over to the window, smiling at Colby when he looks over at you. He gives you a thumbs up and you nod, giving him a thumbs up back before resting your head back.

You needed Jake’s hands on you. Recovering your body in his fingerprints, his touch that makes you weak no matter what way he touches you.

You tried pushing the thoughts away, mainly because they were just causing you to be uncomfortable because you were forcing yourself to sit still. You were scared to sleep. No matter how tired you were, you didn’t want to risk announcing in your sleep to the whole plane that you’re having a wet dream.

You took a deep, quiet, and calming breath before closing your eyes. All you could picture was seeing Jake in the airport. It’s going to be late when you get in, but you know neither you nor Jake will be tired once you get your hands on each other.

You eventually make it through the long flight, basically if you didn’t have Sam or colby to talk to, you would have died from boredom.

As you make your way off the plane and to the baggage claim, you feel your heart start racing faster and faster. You felt like you were meeting Jake for the very first time all over again.

You love and hated it.

“So you see them?” Sam asks and Colby looks around, “No, not yet.” Your eyes search the crowd around you and you suddenly spot Jake over everybody.

You gasp, tapping Colby’s side with your hand, “There.” You point and Jake and Johnnie wave. Sam looks at you, “Go.” He nods towards Jake, “I got your bags.”

You smile and let go of your suitcase, ripping off your backpack and taking off towards Jake. As soon as you’re close enough, you push yourself off the ground, leaping into his open arms.

He catches your and your arms and legs wrap around him. He hugs you right, “Mmm.” He squeezes your body, “I missed you.” He leans his head back and scans his eyes over your face, “Gimme a kiss, sugar lips.”

You laugh and lean in, pressing your lips to his. His arms tighten around your body and he hums lowly, “I hope you’re not tired.” He chuckles and leans back to look at you.

You bite your lip, “Don’t worry, I feel a second wind coming on.” You smirk and he nods, “Good, because I have a schedule, and it’s a lengthy schedule.” He winks and you laugh. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he did have a schedule.

You talk amongst each other, mainly about the investigation, as you make your way to his car. Colby leans forward once he shuts the door and you look over at him, “What’s up?”

“Is it cool if we find a close hotel to crash at?” Colby asks and your eyes move up to Jake. You look forward to hide your smirk and nod, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

══════════════════

Thank you so much for reading! As always, let me know what you thought. I love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[thealbatrovss]

in silence // logan howlett x reader

summary: you fail a mission, and logan just sits with you

oneshot- angsty comfort. death mention, it’s a short and simple one here folks.

word count: 1k+

author note - once again not proofread, I’m just cranking these out but having fun with them. Enjoy!

masterlist

You noticed the ceiling fan was full of dust. It was flaking off the wooden blades and all you wanted to do was rip them off.

Everything was too noisy. Even the empty room you sat in was full of screams and lost voices. You tried to drown it out.

First, you tried turning on the tv. That was a no go. Too many voices. Second, you turned your attention to the half graded homework in a pile by your desk. You had to stop due to tears dripping on the pages. Third, that’s when you pulled out the booze. But that only made the headaches worse.

You put the glass down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. It was getting harder to swallow, so you covered your ears, face flat against the pillow. The lingering smell of forest pine and beer drifted from the fabric, but not even Logan's side of the bed could distract you from the ghosts.

Missions go wrong sometimes. It happens. It’s happened before and will continue to happen. But they didn’t always go this badly.

You, Logan and Scott knew exactly what to do. Sneak in the government building, rescue the kid and get out of there. Bring him back to the school and find him a home there. A mission you’ve done before. Helping and saving other mutants was always fulfilling. It was a way to continue Charles legacy through others.

You could still remember Logan’s lingering kiss against your forehead as you jumped down from the plane and on top of the building. He squeezed your hand twice, a gesture of care, of, “you’ve got this.” This rescue mission relied on you, the other two would be the distraction. The getaway car.

Then, why did you fail?

That warm feeling was replaced with a child’s fingers slipping out of your own. The white corridors shrank all around you. Blood soaked your black suit. You could’ve sworn it started to choke you. The screams only got louder. They sounded like your own.

Your eyes welled up. Memories flooded your rib cage, you almost forgot to breathe. Mourning wasn’t pretty. It was streaks of snot and water on your pillow. It was dust collecting on old ceiling fans. You wanted to scream, but you bit into the blankets instead, keeping it locked in. That way, maybe it would puff away like smoke and never return.

No knock came from the door, but it opened slowly.

Logan stood there, arms folded, head low. Seeing you in such a state, curled up on your shared bed, broke something in him he long thought could never be broken again.

There was a long pause, a moment for him to gather his thoughts, before he decided to leave it at that. Silence. His feet carried him towards you. Sitting at the end of the bed. No words. Just his hand making soft circles on your back. The boiling, thin air became a lot cooler then.

Your clogged nose muffled your voice. “Sorry, I’m taking up the whole bed, aren’t I?”

“It’s okay.” He kept rubbing your back, feeling your body tremble ever so slightly. “Don’t worry about it.”

The salt was in your ears now, your eyes catching the dust descending from the barley functioning fan above. Maybe that was what was making you cry. It was a comforting thought. Didn’t last long. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset.” You could barely make the lie break through your teeth. “We’ve lost people before.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.” Logan’s hand was on your knee now. Moonlight shone through the curtains. Logan shined right on back.

You sat up, bringing your knees to your chest, hand finding his own. “A kid, Logan. A fucking kid.”

He closed his eyes. “I know.”

A hand dragged across your sore face, fingers rubbing against your eyes. A sharp snap of laughter bit the air. It fell flat. “I’m a mess.”

He said nothing. He just sat with you, holding your hand and that was enough to make you crumble.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you could repeat. Over and over again. Like it would change anything. “It’s all my fault.”

Logan shook his head. “No, no. Don’t even go there.” He moved towards you, bringing his hand behind your head, holding you against his chest. His lips lingered on your forehead again. Hands tight around your waist. You could feel his mouth move against your cheek. He was murmuring bittersweet words, hoping the sweet ones would stick to your skin.

When you woke up the next morning, your hand was still intertwined with his. His breath was soft against your tear stained face. Logan’s hair tickled your temple. You allowed yourself a smile, kissing just above the knuckles where his claws came out.

He shifted in his spot, squeezing your hand twice, telling you he was already awake. “Did you know you snore?” His voice was deep and groggy from sleep.

You counted each hidden claw absentmindedly. “Of course I do. You make sure to remind me all the time.”

When he smiled you could see teeth. Logan brought you in closer, fingers playing with your hair. The morning light found his skin and he reveled in it. “We should get some breakfast.”

“Maybe later.” You mumbled into his chest. “Can we just lay here for a bit?”

He groaned, patting his stomach. “But I smell pancakes.” His nose then scrunched up. “Well, burnt ones.”

“Looks like Scott’s awake.”

Logan sat up, hair messy and lips in a lopsided grin. “Come on.”

You stretched your sore body as you stood up, feeling the weight of yesterday's loss hit you all over again.

He saw the slump in your shoulder, and the pad of your thumb trying to wipe away fresh tears. “You know, I can grab you some food and come right back up if you’d like?”

You shook your head, gathering yourself. “That’s okay. I want to go.” And you did. You really did.

Logan reached for your hand, bringing you close once again. “Let’s go.”

[nomniki]

stuck in your web ━━ jake sim ⟡ spiderman au

★ wc 1.3k warnings none note @soobnny u inspired me to write this while i was on the plane i’m actually insane my brain is rotting w spidey bf jake (proofread but idk if there r any mistakes rip sry pookies)

Not even your blankets could stave off the whisper of cold wind that followed Jake in through the window, a chill that was just as quickly chased away by his embrace. He slid in beneath your comforter, a drawn out sigh leaving his lips, one of which you learned as you turned around, was split and crusted with blood. Your hand found his cheek in the darkness, the other reaching out blindly for the light switch.

“No, don’t,” he grumbled halfheartedly, pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades in a lazy attempt to hide the lasting damage of his latest fight.

Your fingers closed the switch and you turned your bedside lamp on despite his protests, propping yourself up on your elbow to better survey his injuries. Jake had made a terrible habit of assuming that slipping into your bed and just having you in his arms would solve all his problems, emotional and physical. As much as you despised the fact, that wasn’t true.

“Let me clean you up?”

You asked softly, brushing his bangs away from his face lazily, wincing as you felt his ordinarily soft hair crusted with something— blood, or dirt, you weren’t sure. In times like this, it felt like there wasn’t much you could offer Jake, and an inescapable feeling of helplessness swelled and formed a lump in your throat. He’d reassured you time and time again that your company was enough, but you figured the least you could do was clean him up to the best of your ability.

“No, let’s just go to sleep, I’ll do it tomorrow,” Jake mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed cutely and his words muffled by the soft cotton of your pillow.

You rolled your eyes, and gathered the motivation to slip out of bed— Jake let you go without any coherent protest, and you padded into the bathroom. The routine you’d adopted was methodical and you had to admit there was something therapeutic about it— saline solution, a glass of warm water, a flannel and the Hello Kitty bandaids Jake claimed to hate but never stopped you from putting on the lesser of his injuries. His arms wound around your waist as you perched on the edge of the bed, pulling you close enough that he could rest his cheek against your thigh.

“I’ll sleep easy knowing I’ve helped you, even a little,” you hummed quietly, running your hand through his hair, trying not to tug when your fingers caught on whatever it was that had gotten stuck, presumably during his fight.

“You’re helping me by being a good cushion,” he huffed, his breath fanning warmly across your bare skin and it was almost criminal how endearing he could be without trying.

“Jake.”

He sighed dramatically, shuffling to sit up in front of you, still in his spider suit— the webbed material had become oddly familiar under your fingers and it was with practiced ease that you peeled the suit away from his skin. Your heart was caught in your throat as you revealed planes of tan skin, terrified you’d come across an injury that couldn’t be fixed with pink—patterned plasters and a gentle kiss. Jake reached for your hands, grabbing your wrist and bringing your trembling hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m fine, really— just a couple scratches.”

His reassurances did wonders to comfort you, and you swallowed down the anxiety in your throat, nodding and offering him a small, sleepy sort of smile. You traced the ridges of his collarbones, your fingers dancing over divots and muscles that contracted instinctively under your gentle touch. Jake slumped, relaxing into your assessment of his injuries, and it gave you a rush like no other knowing you were the only person he trusted with this.

“Keroppi or My Melody?”

You asked, a laugh dancing on your lips in the form of an amused smile as you held up his options— a square plaster with Keroppi depicted on the beach, or My Melody sat with a character you didn’t know the name of.

“Keroppi,” Jake murmured after a moment of contemplation, and you averted your attention from his pretty face to focus on peeling the paper backing off the plaster.

There was a cluster of small scratches along his ribs, raw and aggravated, and you frowned— Jake’s thumb reached up to push gently at your frown, and you bit the tip of his thumb playfully. He laughed, and the sound of it was the only plaster needed to soothe your worried heart.

“I can barely even feel ‘em, you don’t need to look so worried.”

“‘s my job to be worried about you, Jake.”

Jake let out a quiet huff, his bottom lip jutting out in a stupidly kissable pout, “it’s not your job, but it’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

You were grateful to be sat with your back to the lamp, knowing the blush on your cheeks wouldn’t be illuminated.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

You went through the motions of cleaning the rest of his injuries— thankfully, none of them were more than shallow scratches, and some warm water and a cloth had them mostly sorted. His torso was an array of carefully arranged Hello Kitty plasters, at least twelve pastel coloured, cartoon faces staring up at you with unseeing eyes. The only injury you hadn’t dealt with was his split lip, and Jake frowned when he realised you’d insist on cleaning that too.

“Ynnie, can’t you just kiss that one better?”

He pleaded, looking up at you through his lashes with the puppy—dog eyes that ordinarily would entice you into folding to his whims. You shook your head, placing your palms against his cheeks and squishing gently, forcing his lips into a pout. You leaned forward and kissed him softly, allowing the tension to bleed out of your rigid shoulders once you’d seen for yourself that he was truly okay.

“I can’t kiss it better, but I can kiss you anyway,” you murmured against his lips, pressing another chaste kiss against them before you pulled away, the warm, damp cloth in hand.

You cleaned the small cut as carefully as possibly, and if a minute or so of that time had been spent admiring the slope of his cupids bow or the criminally enticing pink of his lips, that was between you and God.

“Your pyjamas are in the wardrobe,” you prompted him— they were technically yours, but they had become a staple of Jake’s post—fight routine.

He rolled out of your bed still pouting, nearly taking your duvet with him before you tugged it back, hiding a giggle behind your arm. Jake threw his spider suit into the depths of your closet with the internal promise to grab it when he woke up, and suited up instead in fluffy Cookie Monster pyjama bottoms and a shirt he was sure had once been his. When Jake crawled back into your bed, he flopped onto your chest with no regard for your need to breathe.

“If college doesn’t work out, I don’t see why you couldn’t pursue a career as a mattress,” he mumbled, situating his cheek against your chest and ensuring he could feel the steady pound of your heart against his ear, “actually, that’s a terrible idea— I think if you ever let anyone else lay on you like this, I think I’d throw up.”

You let out a huff of laughter, your hands tangling in his hair like they belonged there, your eyes crinkled in amusement. Jake’s weight was familiar, and you relaxed under him, fumbling blindly for the duvet to pull it over both your bodies.

“Not a career path ‘m considering, so you have nothing to worry about,” you whispered against the top of his head, your statement punctuated by an unfairly soft kiss. Jake propped his chin up on your sternum, looking up at you expectantly.

“Goodnight kiss?”

You rolled your eyes in feigned exasperation, and leaned forward enough that your lips met in a sweet kiss, though you were mindful of the split that would take at least a few hours to scab over.

“You’re such a baby.”

“Your baby.”

“Yeah, mine.”

[topgun-imagines]

Forget Me Not (i)

Requested: no

Summary: After a bad training accident, you wake up in the hospital 4 days later. Everything seems fine, until you don’t recognize the man by your side.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: There will be more parts.

Warnings: hospitals, memory loss, amnesia, plane crash, injuries, broken bones, angst, cursing, possibly incorrect medical terminology.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader

Next part

“Who are you?” The pilot's head snaps up at the sound of your voice. He had been sitting at your bedside for the past four days, waiting for you to wake up. There had been a terrible accident during training, one that sent you crashing into the ground. You couldn’t eject. No matter how hard you pulled on the handles, there was nothing you could do to save yourself. Hours later, the search and rescue team found you buried under debris and unconscious. You had been rushed to the hospital on base and immediately treated. You had numerous broken bones, a punctured lung, and a brain bleed. The doctors weren't even sure you were going to make it.

You were in surgery for hours. The Dagger Squad spent the whole time in the waiting room, all anxious about whether you would be okay. Rooster and Phoenix refused to go home, insisting that they would stay by Jake’s side until you woke up. It had nearly been a week, and the longest either of them had left was for a quick shower or to pick up food.

Now, as you were waking up in a room merely 20 feet away, Bradley and Natasha were resting on each other as they slept.

Jake stared at you with wide eyes. He had been waiting to hear your voice for days, and now that you were talking to him, he couldn’t believe it. Your wide eyes watched him carefully as he shot up out of his seat. There was a wide smile on his face, one that quickly disappeared when he realized what you said.

He spoke your name softly as he slowly lowered himself back into the chair. “Do you recognize me?” Horror spread through him as you shook your head. “Excuse me.” Jake murmured before he shot off his chair and darted out of the room. You stared after him, confusion written across your face.

Laboured breaths fell quickly from his lips as Jake leaned against the wall and tossed his head back. Rooster and Phoenix shot out of their chairs at the sight of Jake. “What’s going on?” The blond pilot could hardly hear Rooster’s words through the ringing in his ears. “Jake? Is she awake?” Jake heaved a large sigh.

Humming quietly, Jake peeled his eyes open and did his best to not let any tears fall. Phoenix’s next question had him choking out a humourless laugh. “‘Then what’s the problem?’” He pushed himself off the wall. “You wanna know what the fucking problem is Phoenix? The problem is that when she woke up, she had no goddamn idea who I was.” Everyone fell silent at Jake’s words.

You were always the life of the party. You were always the one to lift everyone’s spirits with your presence alone. Wherever Jake was feeling down, you never failed to cheer him up. You were the single best thing in his life. He never could have asked for anyone better. But now, you couldn’t even remember your husband’s name.

“I’m so sorry,” Phoenix spoke quietly setting a hand on Jake’s forearm to try and comfort him. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling right now. The two of you had only been married for a few months, and now you had no idea that you were ever married in the first place. The tears that he had been trying so hard to hold in were now rolling down his cheeks, dampening the black fabric of his T-shirt. She and Rooster wound their arms around the shaking pilot. “God, Jake. I’m so sorry.”

Just then a nurse stepped out of the room beside them. “Mr. Seresin?” Jake sniffled and pulled back. “If you would please come with me.” She headed back into the room, Jake trailing behind him. Your husband exhaled shakily at the expression on your face. He could tell that you were confused and scared. It ripped him to shreds knowing that he couldn’t comfort you right now.

“Mrs?” The elderly woman started, moving to stand next to you. You sat up, glancing between her and the strange man at the door. “Do you remember your name?” You nodded, giving her your name. The sound of your voice made Jake sigh. He had missed hearing your voice and knowing that you could at least remember your name was a relief. “And can you tell me what year it is?” That was when Jake’s heart sank for the second time in the past ten minutes. You thought that it was three years ago. That explained why you had no idea who he was.

The older woman smiled at Jake gently, seeing the pain in his eyes. “I'll leave you two alone. The doctor should be with you shortly.” Then she stepped out of the room, silence filling it seconds later.

“So…” You started, trying to fill the awkward silence. “Who are you?” Your voice was quieter now, less scared than it was before. Sighing, the pilot took a seat beside you in the hard plastic seat beside your bed. He gave you his name and watched your face carefully to see if you recognized it. You could tell that he was expecting you to know it, but when you didn’t, all you could do was give him a sad smile. “How do we know each other?”

Instantly, Jake began to think over your entire relationship, ever since when you met to now. The two of you met at the beach. The second Jake saw you, he couldn’t help but drop some corny pick-up line to try and get you to look his way. You had giggled at his cheesy line and a few hours later agreed to go out with him. From there the two of you had grown inseparable.

“We met at the beach,” He started, a barely-there fond smile on his face. “I made some corny joke and then we, uh,” Pausing, Jake debated on whether or not to tell you that the two of you had been together for nearly three years. “And then we became friends. We’ve been nearly inseparable ever since.”

You smiled at the thought. “Can you tell me more?” You liked hearing him talk. For some reason, listening to Jake’s soft voice as he spoke about how the two of you met had you melting against the scratchy hospital sheets.

Jake nodded. “Of course, Darlin’,” The pet name sent butterflies fluttering around your stomach. Why, you weren’t quite sure. “You were on leave and I had just been stationed in Miami for six months,” You smiled, trying to picture what he was describing. “After that, you went to Lemoore and I went up to Virginia. We still kept talking though,” There was a faint smile on his face as he thought about the last few years with you. “A few months ago we both came to North Island. And now we're here.” The pilot wrapped up his short summary just before your doctor walked into the room.

The older man smiled gently at the two of you, glasses perched on his nose as he glanced down at your file. “Mrs.,” He started, pausing when Jake shook his head subtly. “Miss,” The doctor started again. “It appears that due to the crash, you have sustained mild brain damage. This would explain your memory loss,” You nodded, listening intently to the doctor's words. “In time, you should hopefully regain most, if not all of your memories. However, we cannot be sure how long this will take. It could take anywhere from a few months to a few years,” Swallowing, you nodded. “We’d like to keep you in the hospital for the next few days to monitor your progress.” You nodded once more, yawning slightly as your doctor finished talking.

He stepped out of the room, allowing you and Jake to continue your conversation. “Would you mind if I slept?” Your words were quiet as you yawned once more. There was a soft smile on Jake’s face as he nodded.

Standing from the uncomfortable plastic chair, Jake stepped toward the door. “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.” And then he was gone. You weren’t sure why his words made you feel calm and protected or why the look he gave you before he left had your stomach fluttering. Your eyes slowly closed and the last thing on your mind before you let sleep pull you under was Jake. Even though you couldn’t remember Jake, you could have sworn that the two of you had a bond stronger than what friends had.

Jake knew that it was unlikely that you would call out for him. However, he couldn’t help but hope that even though you couldn’t remember him, you would feel like you could trust him.

When Jake stepped out of the room he was greeted by the sight of your doctor. The door closed softly behind him. “Mr. Seresin,” The older man started, a sombre look on his face. “I’m afraid I have some more unfortunate news.”

a/n: Thank you all for reading! Stay tuned for more parts of this series and let me know if you would like to be tagged! Requests are open <3

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @there-goes-thefighter @t0kyoreveng3rs @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @kmc1989 @ahoplessromanticwritesworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice. @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky

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[multifandom-worlds]

New Agent in the Building

Genre: fluff? I think it's mostly fluff with some angst

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: N/A

Authors Note: I've been sitting on this for a while, and I can't think of anything. It initially had a different title, but the more I wrote it, the less that title worked. Do I think this title works? Nah, not really, but ehhh.

Written from Loki's POV

Tagging: @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @dryyoursaltyoceantears @buttercupcookies-blog @lokiprompts @jiyascepter @icytrickster17

I stood in the kitchen of the compound, mesmerized by her. Every move she made was calculated and graceful. Never did she misstep or fall out of rhythm. Everything was perfectly balanced. She helped prepare for Stark’s eagerly anticipated birthday celebration, which he was hosting this evening, to ease some of the stress on Mrs. Stark. Tony's excitement was palpable, 'We have New York’s best coming tonight,' he would remind her every few hours. 

“There you are, brother!” Thor’s obnoxiously thunderous voice rips me from my peaceful thoughts. “What are you doing here? Are you watching Lady Ellis again? Brother, why not speak to her? You have been watching her for weeks, brother.”

I can see her turning towards where I am standing. To avoid her seeing me, I quickly grab Thor, pull him into the hallway, and shove him against the wall. “You know not of what you speak, brother. I will speak to her when the time is right, and that time is not now, for she is helping to prepare the party.” My feelings for Lady Ellis were a secret I guarded closely, a mystery even to my brother. 

I take a step back, allowing Thor to move away from the wall. “Whatever you say, brother. You should prepare yourself. Guests will be arriving within the hour, and we must look presentable to the public,” he said, flattening his hair back to where it was moments ago. 

I waved him off before peeking into the kitchen once again, worried for her. Would she be done in time, or would she even be attending? Why was she even here in the first place? I can't recall if she's an Avenger or if she's simply an employee. How long ago did she turn up here, weeks? Months? Time on this plane of existence eludes me.

“Hey, beautiful! Let's go, we need to get you dressed! Loki will be attending the party tonight, and I know how much you’ve been fancying him lately!” Natasha smiles, stepping into the kitchen. Natasha’s voice pulls me once again from my wonderings, curiosity getting the best of me. I had to listen in. 

“I don’t have a dress, Tash; Tony wouldn’t let me attend wearing anything I owned, so I think I’m just going to hide away for the evening.” Her voice was heaven to my ears. “I doubt Loki even knows who I am, anyway. You and Wanda go and tell me all about it!” 

I doubt Loki even knows who I am.

While some of that may be true, I don’t know who she is as an individual. I know who she is, and I want nothing more in this world than to get to know her. I really do hope she shows up tonight, but I must get myself ready. I just heard FRIDAY announce that the first guests have arrived.

“And this lovely creature right here is Agent Ellis; she is on loan to us from SHIELD for the time so we can update our training regimes to make us a top-notch team,” Stark says, his arm around her waist. Jealousy begins to take hold; how dare someone else hold what I want. “She’s only been here a few weeks, so she is acquainting herself with the team before she begins her task.”

I could hear their excited conversation in the hall as I readied myself - I loathed these stupid parties Stark would host, and I vigorously debated going myself. Still, as soon as I heard Miss Romanoff ask if Ellis was going, I knew I needed to attend; this may be my chance, not to mention the fact that she had apparently been fancying me. Perhaps tonight, I can finally let my feelings be known.

“You make it sound so formal, Tony.” She giggles. Gods, I love the sound of her giggle. I want to discover all the sounds she could make. “From what I’ve seen, you make a fine team. There are just a few things I would tweak here and there for specific people; that’s all. No big overall changes need to be made.” 

“You want her, don’t you, Loki.” Natasha’s words are less of a question and more of a statement of fact. “I know you were watching her in the kitchen. I’ve seen how your eyes linger on her at the table or during training. Go up there and introduce yourself to her before you lose your chance.”

I take a big swig of the Midgardian liquor that Stark has, my eyes never leaving her form. The way Natasha’s dress hugs her in all the right places, the quiet confidence she carries herself with, the way she can effortlessly join the conversation. There’s something about her that draws me in, and I cannot put my finger on it.

“It’s not that simple, Miss Romanoff. There’s something about her that keeps me away. Every time I try to approach her, something or someone takes her attention elsewhere. I have not had a moment where it would be appropriate.” 

Natasha rubs her temples, “You gods really are hopeless when it comes to dating. Agent Ellis is so into you! You are all she talks about outside of her actual job here. Fury has reprimanded her already for getting distracted because she can’t stop looking at you during training. You’re one of the only ones she hasn’t found fault in when it comes to technique. I’ve seen her notebook; she says your technique when wielding your magic is, and I quote, “elegant and theatrical, mesmerizing and inspiring.” Have you gotten it through that thick, immortal skull of yours that she’s into you?” 

I watch her intently, wondering if what Natasha says is true—does she really think I’m elegant? I found myself getting lost in thought, wondering what life here might be like with her by my side when one thing neither of us had considered became glaringly obvious. “I’m immortal, she’s mortal. I don’t want to be forced to watch her grow old and die. It is for the best that we remain unknown to each other.” 

“So you would rather spend her whole life watching her get loved by other men rather than loving her yourself and figuring out if there is a way to make her mortal? Suit yourself.” Natasha said, walking off to rejoin the party. Her comment rang through my mind. Would I instead watch lesser men love her or give her a life she could never dream of and be with her for the remainder of her days? 

The decision was obvious. 

“Good evening, Agent. My name is Loki.”

[buddie-buddie]

"I'm so excited you're here" for buddie 🙏

"I'm so excited you're here," Christopher says, grinning up at Buck in the way that never fails to set his heart on fire. 

Buck smiles, tousling the curls on top of Christopher's head fondly. "You didn't really think I'd let your dad have all the fun, did you?"

Chris laughs at that, and for the first time since Buck watched him walk out Eddie's front door two months ago, it starts to feel like maybe everything is going to be okay again. 

It's not that Buck ever doubted Christopher and Eddie would find their way back to each other again. It wasn't a shock to him that Chris wanted to come back to LA– that he wanted to come home– nor was he surprised when Eddie dropped everything to get on the next flight to El Paso as soon as Christopher said he was ready. He never doubted that any of it would happen. 

Some selfish part of him just wished it hadn’t taken as long as it did. 

He knows it’s what Christopher needed, and he knows that Eddie did the right thing in letting him go. It just hurt, is all. Worse than he ever could have imagined. 

It felt like Buck’s chest had been cracked open, a piece of his heart ripped off, torn out. And as much as time helped to close the wound, it still ached with each breath he took. He still spent the last two months walking around like a piece of him was missing. 

And maybe it was. 

He and Eddie had gotten together not too long after Chris left, and Buck had spent the majority of the flight fretting over how Chris would react to the changes that occurred in his absence. Somewhere over New Mexico, Eddie had placed a hand on Buck’s bouncing knee, the familiar warmth of his touch instantly grounding. It washed over him like a balm, instantly soothing the restless hum beneath his skin. 

“Baby,” Eddie had said, his voice low so as to not disturb any of their fellow travelers. “It’s going to be fine. Great, even.”

Buck had let out a tiny sigh, trusting Eddie and yet still finding it hard to shake the last of the stress away. “Wh-What if he changes his mind?” he asked, the words bitter on his tongue. “What if he refuses to get on the plane? What if he– if he wants to stay with your parents? Eddie, I– I’ll never forgive myself if I’m the reason you lose him again, I–”

“Shh,” Eddie’s hand moved from Buck’s knee to take his hand, lacing their fingers together and giving Buck's hand a reassuring squeeze. “He’s over the moon,” Eddie reminded him. “Has been since we told him.”

Which was true. They’d kept it a secret for nearly a month– from Christopher, from the 118, from everyone. There was something special about it, keeping their relationship to themselves. Something almost sacred about walking around with Eddie’s heart in his chest and being one of only two people in the world who knew it. 

As special as it was, nothing came close to how good it was once they decided it was time to share it. 

Christopher had been their first call, with Eddie assuring him that if it wasn’t something he was comfortable with, they’d end it. The thought alone had Buck’s chest aching, his stomach turning. He only just got Eddie, only just started to feel whole for the first time in his life. The fear that accompanied the thought of losing that– of losing Eddie– was nearly paralyzing. But it wasn’t one he had to sit with for too long. Christopher had broken out in a huge grin, mumbled something that sounded a lot like “Finally.” 

They’d told everyone else after that, and Christopher wasn’t the only one whose reaction to the news included a wide smile and the word “Finally.”

And when Chris had texted this morning and said he wanted to come home, Eddie booked two tickets on the next flight out while Buck threw their things in an overnight bag and grabbed his keys. 

Buck struggled to get the words out. “I know,” he let out a long, shaky exhale. “I– I just–”

“You’re worried,” Eddie, as always, knew exactly where Buck’s head was at, even before Buck did himself. “Because you think you’re not going to be enough for him. You’re afraid you’re not enough to make him want to stay. And you love him so impossibly much, that even the thought of possibly losing him again makes your heart break all over again.”

Buck nodded, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath, trying to will away the hot tears pricking at the back of his eyes. “How’d you know?”

Eddie sighed, squeezing Buck’s hand in his. “I feel it, too.”

Buck's eyes shone with unshed tears. He brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s knuckles. “What a pair we make.”

Eddie had taken his phone from his pocket, pulling something up before passing it to Buck. “I feel it,” Eddie repeated. “But I’m not too worried anymore. And this is why.” 

Buck looked down to see Eddie’s text conversation with Chris. 

Buck’s heart swelled in his chest. He didn’t know if he’d ever be used to the feeling, to being loved like this. 

“There’s more,” Eddie said, scrolling down to newer messages, the time stamp indicating they were exchanged just before takeoff. 

Buck lost the battle then with the tears welling in his eyes, the first one slipping free as he smiled down at Eddie’s phone screen. The tears blurred his eyes until the messages were nothing but blue and gray blurs. 

Eddie had taken Buck’s face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. And then he met Buck’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss, one that said more than his words ever could. 

“Nothing to worry about,” Eddie had said when they parted, calm and reassuring. “Except maybe the javelinas.”

Buck grinned, blinking back the last of his tears. 

“What are you smiling about?” Eddie teased. 

Buck nodded at Eddie’s phone in his lap. “I think you have something to ask me.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth tugged up into a shy smile, his eyes bright. “Will you–”

“Yes,” Buck didn’t even let him finish, too eager to get the word out, to dive into the next chapter of his life with Eddie. “Yes,” he repeated, grinning as he closed the distance and kissed Eddie again. 

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed, equal parts hopeful and hesitant, the word coming out just shy of incredulous. Almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it. 

Buck nodded, never more sure of anything. “Yeah.”

And now, they’re standing on the front steps of Eddie’s childhood home and Chris is laughing and wrapping his arms around Eddie and Buck is watching them with a smile so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.

And then Christopher looks at Buck and goes “Buck do you want to see a javelina tomorrow?” and Buck feels like he just won the lottery. 

“Absolutely,” Buck says. 

He’s the luckiest man in the world.

[wildrangers]

Can This Be a Real Thing, Can It? // Jack Hughes

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: As lines become blurry, you seek answers from Jack.

Warnings: Cursing, resolved angst, lots of fluff

You weren’t surprised when a knock sounded from your door, despite the late hour. Secretly, you’d been hoping he’d come after the plane landed like he had been for weeks now. You set aside the book you’d been reading and padded to your front door, revealing an exhausted-looking Jack.

“Does it feel as bad as it looked?” you asked in greeting, taking in his swollen lip.

“Probably feels worse” he admitted, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing in the scent of him.

“Would ice help?” you asked, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“No but a kiss would” he replied and you rolled your eyes as you pulled away.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Why would be I be kidding? I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you but it looks like it hurts you to talk, let alone for me to touch your mouth” you grimaced, eyeing him skeptically.

He pouted at you, looking all the more pathetic with his fat lip. “Fine, we’re icing it first though, go sit down on the couch” you sighed and he quickly did as commanded.

You heard his soft voice greet your cat, Piper, who you assumed was making herself at home on his lap. The little cheat loved him way more than she did you. After wrapping a few ice cubes in a soft towel, you made your way to the living room, watching him coo lovingly at your cat. You smiled at the scene until his own lips spread into a grin and you saw the gap.

“Holy shit, you lost a tooth!” you gasped, nudging Piper over so you could sit beside him, your legs settling over his lap.  

“I don’t want to talk about it” he groaned, laying his head on the back of your couch.

“It’s cute” you said, surprised to find you meant it.  Your compliment just earned you a glare though so you gently placed the ice on his mouth, a wince of pain overtaking his features. His eyes closed as a comfortable silence settled around you both, broken only by Piper purring on his other side.

As you watched his face slowly relax as the ice numbed his pain, you couldn’t help but note how domestic this scene felt. Jack, you, and your cat curled up on the couch after a roadie with you tending to his injury. If only you actually knew what the two of you were, maybe then you’d feel as relaxed as Jack looked.

***

You two had met at the team’s unofficial Halloween party, at the invitation of your neighbor Dawson. You really were closer with his girlfriend, but you all hung out sometimes so you accepted the invite. As soon as Dawson introduced you two, you were done for. You would do just about anything to earn one of his genuine smiles, the kind that lit up his whole face. You two spent most of that night chatting and you couldn’t believe how quickly time flew.

But you were swamped with school and he was busy with the team. Over the next couple months, you two slowly became good friends, meeting up when you could but mostly Facetiming or texting. Until New Year’s Eve anyway.

Nico’s apartment was noisy but you two had tucked yourselves into a back room, clearly not meant for guests but at least you two could actually talk.

“You’re fucking with me” you laughed, wiping tears from your eyes.

“I swear to God, he ripped the braces right off my teeth” he grinned and you lost your breath altogether as he continued describing it. As you tried to get your breathing under control, you rested your head on his shoulder without a second thought. It felt only natural when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

This was one of your favorite things about being with Jack. You two had great conversations but silence never felt awkward. Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn’t hear the rest of the party counting down to midnight down the hall. As they got to single digits, you moved from your spot on his shoulder to see him already staring at you intently. You held his gaze until you couldn’t fight your eyes dropping down to his mouth and back up again, willing him to make a move.

As the countdown neared its end, your heart was pounding in your chest and nerves twisted your stomach. While the group outside cheered, he leaned in, his lips finally meting yours. You couldn’t describe how you felt in that moment—all you could remember was how your lips locked together like puzzle pieces, his hands falling to the curve of your waist like they’d been molded to fit that exact spot.

You thought that moment would change your relationship and, in some ways, it did. He’d pulled away with that shit eating grin of his as he led you back to the party. You two hung out a lot more after that, almost always at your place. At first that confused you, but as time went on you wondered if it was because so many of the guys lived in his building and he didn’t want them to see you. Not that you thought he was ashamed of you but rather that he wanted to keep it lowkey. Which you could do, honest.

***

Seriously, for months that was what it was. When he had an off day or you had a light school week, you two were more than friends. Otherwise, you chatted like you had been, very little changing between you two. Right when you fully accepted the reality of the situation was the first night that he showed up at your door late one night.

You’d been just about to go to bed when you heard a knock. You assumed it was at your neighbor’s door until your phone vibrated beside you. Are you up?  followed by another knock at what you now realized was your door. Rage flew through you—you could do casual, fine. But to show up announced with a ‘you up’ text? Unacceptable. As you pulled the door open to tell him just that, you stopped when you saw how deflated he looked.

“I’m sorry, I know I have no right to just show up like this” he said, sad blue eyes meeting yours.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worry flooding your chest.

“It’s not even that big of a deal, we just lost the game and I had a shit night and all I could think was that I wanted to see you. I should have at least called or something, I mean—oh shit, it’s Tuesday, isn’t it? You have your 8AM class tomorrow morning, I’ll go, I’m—.”

You’d cut off his rambling by grabbing his hand and pulling him into your apartment. “Look, I don’t mind if you stay but I am seriously exhausted so if you came here for any kind of action, you’re in for some disappointment.”

“Seriously, I just wanted to be with you” he insisted and you gave him a doubtful look. “I mean, if you’d offered, I wouldn’t have said no but that wasn’t my intention.”

You took in the slope of his shoulders, the way he was folded into himself in a way that was so un-Jack-like, and believed him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked softly and he nearly collapsed into you in response, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head buried in your neck. You two stayed like that for a while, the tension in his back slowly releasing as you held him.

“Don’t know what there is to say” he finally mumbled, “I totally blew it tonight.”

You shook your head as you gently pushed him back to cup his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Jack, you are one person. You’re allowed a bad night. So, let’s get you some pajamas and into bed and you can tell me all about it, yeah?”

He nodded glumly and you pulled him towards you, your hands staying on his cheeks as your lips met. This kiss was different from any you’d shared. He normally took charge, his confidence bleeding into every aspect of who he was. But tonight, he kissed you tentatively, slow and sweet in a way that didn’t set your heart aflame but instead made it settle down in your chest. It had felt vulnerable and real and like the start of something new.

***

A little over a month later, you returned to the present moment. He came over after most games now, celebrating the wins and seeking comfort after losses. But still, no labels, no discussion of what you two were. Suddenly, the absurdity of it hit you—you were giving this man your all without even knowing if he still just thought of you two as friends with benefits.

With that thought, you took his hand, placed it over yours that had been holding the ice in place and stood up, turning your back to him.

“Where you going pretty lady?” he asked quietly. Normally, a line that silly would earn him an eye roll and a giggle. Tonight, you just wondered over to the windows, taking in the city below you.

“Y/N?” he asked again and you took deep breaths trying to get your thoughts in order. The long pause must have made him nervous because you heard him sit up.

“Jack, what are we doing?”

“Well, right this moment, you’re making me nervous” he admitted and you sighed, turning to face him.

“Jack, seriously, I need you to be honest with me.”

“About what? I don’t understand what’s happening right now, we’ve done this so many times.”

“Exactly, Jack! We have done this countless times and yet I have no idea what your intentions are. Every step of the way, I’ve thought ‘Well, it must be happening for real now’ but no, that was just stupid wishing on my part if you don’t even know what I’m asking you” you replied, turning back to face the window. You’d be damned if he saw you cry.

You were met with the first awkward silence you two had ever shared and you shook your head at yourself—you should have known better. Lost in your thoughts, you jumped slightly when his hands landed on your shoulders, gently turning you around. You let him, and he buried his face in your neck like that first late night he’d come to you see, seeking comfort after a loss. You allowed yourself to enjoy his presence for a moment before lightly pushing him back.

“I need you to tell me what we are, Jack.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do” he sighed in frustration, running his hands through his hair, confused eyes meeting your own.

“No, you’re not saying anything! You’re just holding me, like you always do.”

“Exactly!” he snapped and you flinched back slightly; he’d never raised his voice before and it startled you. “When I have a bad day or game, I come here because you always know how to make me feel less shitty. When I have the best day or a great game, I want to share it with you because you make me that much happier. Fuck, I’ve been a goner for you since Halloween for god’s sake! I don’t understand how you don’t know that.”

“Because you’ve never said it, Jack!”

“Neither have you!”

That response made you pause and quickly sort through your memories only to find he was right—you hadn’t said anything either, allowing you two to float in this gray space the whole time.

“When you didn’t say anything, I just assumed you wanted it this way. Every time I pushed to get closer, you let me but only so far. So, I just left it alone” he said much more quietly, avoiding your gaze.

You sighed, leaning in to rest your head against his chest.  You hadn’t even realized you’d done it—just like he said, whenever you felt any emotion intensely, you wanted to share it with him. After a moment’s pause, you felt his hand gently tangle in your hair as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“We’ve been stupid, haven’t we?” he muttered and you laughed, pulling away to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’d say so” you agreed. “I just never wanted to push you so I left it and then got mad when you did the same. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too” he whispered, tracing your lips with shaky fingers. You couldn’t remember a time he seemed nervous or unsure but if his quivering hands didn’t prove it, the searching look in his eyes certainly did. “Can we do this now? The right way?”

Your heart tripped at the slight crack in his voice and you nodded, “Yes, please.”

That earned you a grin, albeit one tooth short. His hands, a bit more sure of themselves now, cupped your face as he pulled you to him. Your lips met and you took great care to be gentle even though you desperately wanted to claim him, pull him into you as much as you could. But within 30 seconds, you felt him flinch as you accidentally hit a sore sport so you pulled away.

“I guess the kiss didn’t help as much as you thought it would” you teased.

“I mean, it did just not physically” he admitted and you laughed. You laced your hands behind his neck, pulling him down to place a kiss on his forehead.

“My poor baby boy” you cooed and he swatted you away as you laughed again.

“You swear you don’t think I look dumb with this stupid gap?” he asked shyly.

“I thwear it” you promised earnestly and he grabbed your sides, throwing you onto the couch before tickling you ruthlessly.

“Can’t make fun of me if you can’t talk” he smirked, triumphant, as you wiggled helplessly beneath him.

“I yield, I yield!” you gasped out and he stopped. Piper had long since abandoned you two so you laid out fully on the couch, trying to catch your breath. Jack laid himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest as his arms snaked around you. You absently ran your hands through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

“Jack?” you started softly, not wanting to break the peaceful silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you’ll leave your teeth like that?”

“Fuck no.”  

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed, I wrote this one in a couple of hours but I wanted to get it out before Game 4 tomorrow. Please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed :)

[babygirl-riley]

I have a request for ghost x reader where reader and ghost are in a relationship and reader is going to be switched into another task force and hasn't told ghost and when she tells ghost he like gets all sad and scared that he'll never see the reader ever again and they cry together cause they made such good memories with eachother and the 141 and in the end maybe reader transfer is canceled and she not going anywhere and is staying with ghost.

Change of Plans Pt. I

Ghost and you talk about the new orders that was giving to you from Price

“There’s no end. There’s no goodbye.”

A/N: Yeeeeeaaaah so you gave me ideas and now it turns into a 3 part series. 👉🏻👈🏻 Hope you enjoy the first one 🫠 Little change of plans for the moment 🤭

Warnings: Angst, fluff, established relationship, small very small mentions of smut, small cuddle moment, sad!simon but ya know doesn’t really express it, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Pt. II

The silence was strong, you could hear an sort of movement that the base would make. Someone turning a faucet or a pen dropping. You sat on your bed with puffy red eyes as Simon stood frozen in the middle of your room. You had to tell him before Price announced it to the team.

You fought about for weeks about the orders telling Price to basically buzz off. That this was your team. Your family. So Price being Price tried to have the commander that wanted you on their task force at bay. Until today. Price asked to meet him in the office after the another successful mission.

“Commander Graves is getting impatient y/n,” Price said lowering his voice as you shut the door. “I’m sorry I tried.”

When he handed you the envelope you laughed darkly. “You gotta be shitting me Price.”

“I wish Sargent.” He said frowning, he sat in his chair for a moment before sighing. “He wants you tomorrow night. They are going on their own assignment that they need you on.”

You glared at the envelope, you could rip it to pieces and say to hell with it. But now it’s in writing and pretty sure this Commander Graves made more copies. After a long silence Price stood up to place a hand on your shoulder. “1400 the last plane to the force leaves. Better start saying your goodbyes.”

So immediately you looked out for Simon going from hallway to hallway. Building to building. He had to be the first one to know. You and him had been together for about 9 months now. Secretly no one knew. Maybe they did find out and you were being punished this way. Instead of insubordination, that’s why Price didn’t say anything for a while.

When you found him he was walking with Johnny getting cleaned up from the previous mission. “Lass! There ya are! What did the capt…”

“Not now Johnny,” You snapped, feeling guilty right after. “I need to speak with you privately Lieutenant.”

Simon snapped his eyes over to Soap who was standing in awe before looking down at you. “‘Ight, catch up with ya, yeah.” He said to Johnny who nodded to his reply.

Now you were both here, sitting in your room. You handed the envelope first as he opened it slowly. Simon was confused at first as he read before snapping his head up. “What does it mean your leavin’?” He growled, you thought he was mad at you.

“I don’t know some Commander down in the US needs me there,” You sighed wiping your eyes. “Says that they need a Lieutenant there.”

“But ya not a Lieutenant.” He said gripping the paper.

You inhaled deeply, you pointed to the paper. “Read more Simon.”

That’s where he froze and just re read the words over and over again. “By the United States Commander in Chief Hershel Shepard, you have been promoted to Lieutenant y/l/n as of February 20th, 2022.”

Simon couldn’t believe it, you were leaving back to the states after years on being on the force. He just got you. Finally figuring out what he has felt for months being with you. Caring for you. Maybe even love you. Now you were being taken away. He heard you sniffling bringing him back into reality.

You watched as slowly he brought his head up, being faced with his skull mask. His painted eyes looking right at you. “No we are talkin’ to Price maybe he can…”

“Already tried that.”

“‘Ight then we go to Shepard himself maybe talk to him…”

“Simon, we can’t he is the head honcho. He is the one ordering this by Commander Graves too. So there isn’t any way around this.”

Simon scoffed. “Why have you given up? It’s like you don’t want to fight for this.”

You scoffed back and rose from the bed. “I have been dealing with this for two months now. We have been trying Simon. You think I want to leave them. To leave us?”

Simon stood there for a moment, emotions coming through that he never would think that he would have. All the things you both have been through. It all started because of pent up emotions that both of you didn’t know how to release besides having sex. Then came the attachments. Laughter. Jokes. Bantering. Hell even the fighting.

Simon stood there for another moment debating on just leaving the room. He doesn’t know how to deal with this situation. The more he stared at you the less he wanted to leave, he wanted more time.

“Maybe it won’t be forever ya know? Maybe it is just a train up for his team and that’s that.”

Simon knew better than to think like that, think that there is hope. You were always better than him in that aspect. Looking for the light at the end. Simon sighed and walked to you as he sat next to you. He started to lay down and guiding you down with him. “Maybe.” He mumbled.

You followed him down placing your head on his chest as he combed through your hair. You sighed as you thought about everything both of you have been through. You chuckled making Simon break a smile. “What is it?” He asked softly.

“Remember when I first started on the team and I thought you liked sugary coffee,” He groaned as he laughed a little bit more. “Then like 2 months later you finally broke and said that you only like tea and not the sugary shit.”

Simon nodded his head. “Blood hell pretty sure I gained a few pounds from just one cup,” You giggled as you looked up at him. “I won’t forget when the grenade landed next to you and Johnny during training. You tossing it to Johnny and him passing it back to you. Fumbling it like two blokes.”

You slapped his chest. “Hey! That wasn’t entirely my fault. The damn private didn’t pull the pin so I thought to give it to him. Well I remember beating you at sparring.”

Simon gave a fake shocked look. “Technically I did, it turned to the tie breaker”

You glared at him in curiosity before turning red. “The tie breaker doesn’t count.”

Simon gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index. “If it wasn’t for the tie breaker I would be here with ya, love.”

You half smiled, tearing up again. “I will come back Si.”

Simon’s heart started to ache as he inhaled deeply. “And I’ll be waitin’.”

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 44: Just a .22

WE'RE IN BOSTON FOLKS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

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Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 44: Just a .22

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 44/? WC: 118,410 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive content Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

"Fuck you," you seethe through clenched teeth.

Your upper thigh is clamped between both hands. Blood dribbles down your fingers, the makeshift tourniquet Simon made from the hem of someone's shirt not quite enough to stem it. Ricky is digging around in the hole near your knee -- parting skin and sinew with a surprisingly surgical pair of tongs to root out the bullet currently lodged somewhere close to the bone.

The only reason you haven't ripped the skin off his smarmy mustachioed face is because you're a little tipsy. And restrained by the arms of Soap, whose lap you're in.

"Don't be so dramatic, darlin', it's only a .22," Ricky chides.

"How could you possibly fucking know that?"

"Got an eye for 'em'."

"Course you do."

Even through the liquored haze, it still feels like a fire is ravaging your entire leg. The pain of the gunshot itself is sharp. Throbbing. But the attempt to remove the bullet has truly been a grueling test of your ever-fluctuating willpower. 

"How's about I carve your eyes out with my bare hands and make you eat them, you f--."

Ricky lets out a hearty guffaw, cutting you off.

You don't mean it, though the thought does bring a small amount of joy to your otherwise pain-addled brain. In the short time he's been stabbing you thoroughly and repeatedly, you've learned that batshit threats of violence usually make him laugh. And making him laugh is a nice distraction.

Not a very effective one. 

But it's better than nothing. 

"Take another shot o' moonshine," Ricky instructs, gesturing to the flask beside his foot. 

Moonshine doesn't remotely begin to describe the heat of Ricky's horse piss liquor. You'd told him as much after your first swig. 

"You should call this shit Sunburn," you'd sputtered. He'd laughed at that too. 

It's the only medication you're going to get, but you're not sure getting hammered is going to make this experience any better.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself, darlin'."

Soap idly traces his thumbs along your biceps. Another nice distraction. Together, you sit in the first row of first class on an American Airlines passenger jet. An Airbus. Ancient, but still moving. 

Turns out Cap's friends are looters of a grand sort. Grand larceny, to be specific. Slim's defense when pressed was that nobody else was fuckin' usin' it. Without Cap conscious to otherwise vouch for her, you'd had no choice but to take her word for it. 

Cap himself is in Slim's hands, which the siblings -- you think they're siblings -- all four of them: Slim, Ricky, and the other two pilots, Junior and Rabbit -- insist is a good thing. She's got him somewhere behind the curtain separating first class from the rest of the plane. You've asked about him a dozen times. At least. They've assured you each time that Slim was a trained combat medic. Has seen a head injury or two in her time. Nimble fingers and whatnot. 

But you can only think of Alex. Alex and his weeks' long coma. Alex who hasn't ever quite been the same, though you suppose you never truly knew him before his injury. He's been stoic. Quiet since you got on the plane. Resting against Farah's shoulder just across the aisle from you. 

Simon is on your other side, in the window seat, holding your hand. Well, really, you're holding his. Squeezing the shit out of it. The tips of his fingers are white. 

Gaz, Gary, and the Los Vaqueros boys are behind you, silent enough to suggest they've all fallen asleep.

Ricky's hand slips, sending his tongs deeper than they ought to be. You howl in outrage, thrashing in your seat, almost kicking him in the chin, but Soap quickly detains you -- with an arm banded across your chest and a low murmur in your ear. 

"Be still, love."

You hiss at him. "Fuck you too." 

He chuckles, which sends a flare of defiance through your skull -- a shock of red on the edge of your vision. You buck against him, wriggling your hips, trying to set yourself free of his grip. But it only tightens.

"You don't mean that," he croons. 

"Maybe I do."

"Careful, Ace."

The heat behind his warning softens your ire instantly. "Don't 'careful Ace' me," you lecture -- but there's no tooth to it. Not as you become very aware of his breath, hot on the back of your neck. One of his hands drops from your arm down to your waist. 

Some of the pain eddies away. Dulls. Like someone threw a blanket over it. More effective than Ricky's toilet liquor, anyway. 

Your eyes slide to Simon's, whose twinkle with something mischievous. Something dark and husky and deviant. The ever-present thread between you tightens -- though, now there's more of it. Another branch. A third anchor. 

Everything is taught.

"Ace..." Soap murmurs, following your gaze. 

You shift your hips again. Just a little. He stiffens beneath you. Releases a huff of air, blowing your some of your hair into your face. 

"Be still, woman," Ricky scolds. 

"Eat me, asshole." Your voice is soft. Throaty. You couldn't be more transparent if you tried.

"Just fuckin' relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Then stop movin'."

You can't.

You feel feral. You need to get up and walk around, if you only could. You need to run a hundred laps around the plane. Shed your skin. Get out of Soap's lap and into -- something else. 

Soap plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder and a shiver skates down your spine. 

"Johnny," you hiss. "Knock it off."

"I'm distracting you."

You let out a quiet groan -- a mix of chagrin and desire -- hardly audible. But Soap hears it, the growing firmness in his lap a delicious confirmation.

But another sharp throb of pain in your thigh dumps a bucket of ice water over your head, involuntarily sending your foot forward into Ricky a second time. 

"Oof, hey now, I've almost got it," he scolds, dodging you. 

"Fuck off, Ricky."

"Foul mouth."

"Bite me."

"Just -- think happy thoughts or somethin'."

"Happy thoughts? Really?"

"I dunno, have your other boyfriend whisper sweet nothings in your ear, since the one ain't enough."

Simon and Soap both go still. You blink at him, incredulous. Indignant. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Loaded question."

You snort. "Confidence inspiring."

"I ain't one to judge, don't you worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well don't worry 'bout this neither," he gestures to your leg with his free hand. "I know what I'm doin'."

His words don't quite match his physicality. His brow is coated in sweat -- the headlamp he's using to see what he's doing sliding down a little as each minute passes. 

Not exactly soothing to the nerves. 

You miss Doc. 

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