#and you’ll enjoy every minute

[javelinbk]

Paul McCartney with his camera in Southend-on-Sea, England, in December of 1963. From Paul’s book ‘1964: Eyes of the Storm’ in an Airmail article written by Michael Lindsay-Hogg

[fandombead]

Imagine thinking cars are better

I don’t want to drive, it’s the worst part of having to go places

Gimme a train please

Lemme chill and be taken places

American moment

[sexbot300]

18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)

authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)

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sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.

sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?

sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.

sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.

sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”

sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.

sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.

sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.

sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.

sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.

sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).

sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.

sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”

sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.

sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.

sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.

sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.

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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”

sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.

sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).

sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”

sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.

sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.

sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.

sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.

sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”

sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."

sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”

sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”

sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.

sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”

sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.

sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.

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[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely sorry.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching. the look on his face is priceless—like he’s not sure if he’s about to follow a dream or walk into his worst nightmare. perfect, you think.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a full out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you want to fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can’t take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.���i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of her attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

[nickfowlerrr]

right where i need you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. established relationship. fluff. unprotected sex in the kitchen - sorry not sorry. and not much else, really! if i’m forgetting something pls lmk.

words: 2.3k

notes: i haven’t stopped thinking about him in that damn white tank since i first saw it and honestly i don’t know if i ever will. here’s just some random smut for you, inspired ofc by said white tank, please enjoy. thank you in advance for reading and as always - reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know what you think. 🩵

You can’t be held responsible for this.

It’s really not your fault.

He’s the one looking so…him.

It took one little look. And now here you are.

You’re not complaining! But when your phone starts ringing with texts in about fifteen minutes asking where you are and why you’re late, well… you can deal with that later.

You had padded down the hall, hair and makeup done and dress unzipped with your heels in your hand.

Did you really need his help to zip it up? No. But you can’t pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on you, even for a second.

He got home not too long ago so you know where you’ll find him, but he hasn’t come into the room to say hello, so you’re not exactly sure how you’ll find him.

You started considering skipping out on girls night the second you heard him come in without his usual greeting, and that is still definitely on the table. You haven’t been seeing him as often as either of you would like lately, and as much as you love your friends, you had brunch together last weekend, it’s not like it’s been ages… They wouldn’t be too upset, you’re sure.

You decided you’d make up your mind when you saw Bucky.

You find him exactly where you knew you would. He stands at the kitchen counter, his hair mussed, shirt discarded as he’s clad in his black pants and white under tank. He’s hunched over a bit and yet he still looks so big.

You smile wearily as you assess him from behind. He seems tense and tired and you can easily guess why. He’s been working nonstop for the past two weeks, you know he’s exhausted.

You walk closer to him and he turns to face you as you near his back.

He may be exhausted but damn he always manages to still look good. You’re almost envious of his natural allure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets with a rumble as you reach out to touch him, your hand on his side as you step closer to him. His own find your waist as he pulls you in to hug you. “You look beautiful as ever,” he murmurs softly, holding you tighter than you’d expected.

“Hi, baby,” you ease back. It’s not a pet name you use often, but it slips so easily from your tongue as he holds you and you hug him back.

“Thought you woulda been gone already,” he says as you pull back from him, your eyes meeting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Not yet,” you say, “can you zip me?”

He smiles at you and you turn around, allowing him access to the zipper. He keeps a hand on your hip as he slowly works the zipper up the dress, taking his sweet time. Once he’s got it, he runs his big hand down your back and then settles it on your other hip, giving you a squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, turning to face him once more, “So,” you broach, “how was your day?”

“Ah, we don’t need to talk about that right now,” he tries to brush off.

“Bucky,” you start to admonish before he interrupts you.

“Have I seen this dress before?” He asks as his hands wander along the fabric, his eyes following your every curve.

You sigh, letting it go for now, “No, it’s new.”

“Looks good on you,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you smile with a titter.

He blinks at you, his eyes swimming with something you aren’t sure you can name as his big hands find your bottom.

“I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

You nod, softening as you step closer to him, “I’ve been missing you, too.”

He gives your ass as squeeze as you lean into him and you don’t even realize you’re doing it as you let your gaze wander down his sturdy chest to where his tank top is still tucked into his pants. He’s so built and so big, you’re damn near obsessed. And God, you really have been missing him.

His warmth, his touch, his everything.

You only realize you were biting your lip as his thumb comes up to pull it from your teeth. And you only realize your hand has been drifting down his thick, strong torso when you brush the top of his pants.

You meet his eye and you need no other warning of what’s about to come as you see the longing there.

His hand is holding your face as he licks his lips without thought. His eyes drift from yours to your lips and then all at once he’s on you.

His kiss is fervent and hot as he leads you. You let him turn you as you’re entirely enraptured in his kiss. You don’t recognize the counter at your backside as you kiss him back until he lifts you up without warning. His strength is always so impressive to you as you yip and reach to hold onto him despite the fact you’re already sitting safely by the time you do.

Your legs spread enough to welcome him as he stands between them, your dress already ridden up your thick thighs. His kisses are incessant as he holds you, his hands and lips both wandering what belongs to him.

Your hands are in his thick, dark hair as he attacks your neck and you can’t help the moan that slips past your lips. You can feel his smile against your skin as he hears it, like music to his ears.

You pull him closer with your leg around him as he pushes up the material of your dress until it’s around your waist. His hands move higher and once he finds the top of your dress, he pulls it down too, taking your strapless bra with it. He unhooks it easily and tosses it aside while avoiding unzipping the dress for you.

His mouth is on your full breasts the moment he exposes them; licking, nipping, sucking at your nipples while your back arches and you moan at the feeling.

“Buck,” you eke out your plea, tugging at him.

He doesn’t stop but his hands do move down to undo his pants. He pulls away after a second and pushes them down enough to free his stiff cock. He pulls you closer to him and then drags your silky panties down, tossing them with your bra before he situates himself back between your spread legs.

The feeling of his hand on your bare thigh is enough to set you on fire. He squeezes the ample softness there as he feels you, letting his hand slide up your leg to hold your hip.

You’re definitely gonna be late now, but it really isn’t your fault. They can’t blame you. And even if they could, you don’t think you’d really care.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel his cock head at your entrance.

“So wet,” he murmurs as he drags himself up and down your slit teasingly, earning a whimper from you. “I know, baby,” he chuckles, looking up to meet your puppy dog eyes, “I know. I’m gonna give it to ya, know exactly what you need, sweetheart,” he says, his words smooth as silk as he talks huskily.

He guides himself back to your slick entrance and right before he starts to push into you, he makes sure your eyes are on him, and of course they are.

You hold eye contact as he slowly moves into you, your lips parting on a gasp the deeper he goes. Your hands are messed in his hair again as your walls involuntarily squeeze his length inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You pull him closer, angling yourself to kiss him again as he slides the rest of the way into your tight pussy. He kisses you back just as fervently as before as he starts to pull out of you before thrusting right back in. His thick cock dragging perfectly along your tight walls as he fucks you. His hand tightens on your hip as you squeeze him again, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans in turn, but his pace never faltering.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself to him as he holds your waist. His cock hitting deeper with his every thrust. You’re already on the brink of your orgasm as you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as he fucks you in perfect time. His grunts and groans and moans fill your ears as your own spur him on.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he pants as he squeezes you again. You kiss his stubbled jaw, arching into him, “Missed you,” you mewl. You suddenly feel his thumb on your clit and you gasp out your moan.

“Bucky,” you cry, hands gripping his solid back.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he husks, “come on. Let go, baby. Come for me. Need to feel you come around my cock,” he grits, working your clit in tight circles as you clench around him, eyes squeezing shut and arms holding him ever tighter. “Need to feel you,” he begs a little quieter, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You can’t hold back any longer as his cock hits that special spot inside you once again while his thumb is ceaseless on your sensitive clit. Your face is in his neck as you quake against him, coming hard. Your body feels alight and electric, sparks of unadulterated pleasure shooting through you as you shudder and moan at the overwhelming feeling. Waves of ecstasy washing over you as you moan and whine in Bucky’s ear.

He doesn’t relent as he works you through your high and pushes himself closer to his own, praises for you and groans of his own pleasure sounding from him as he fucks you, making sure you feel every inch of him, his hands gripping your ass as he keeps you close.

Your walls pulsing around his length have him growling as he teeters on the edge of his orgasm, but it’s your soft moan in his ear as you hold onto him that really pushes him over the edge. You sound so pleased, so satisfied and debauched and it’s all because of him. It’s all for him.

You gasp as he comes inside you, curses of pleasure and your name on his tongue, his hot cum filling you up as he slows his thrusts. You feel his lips on your temple and then your cheek as he kisses you gently while he comes down. Your walls still squeezing him softly as you do the same until he finally pulls out of you, tucking himself away.

You hold his face in your hands, admiring him for a moment before you pull him closer for a kiss. He still stands between your legs as he lets you pull him further into you before you finally let him go.

“I’ve really missed you,” you murmur. “I know you’re off all next month, and we’ll be around each other, be able to make up for lost time,” you smirk coyly, “but,” you breathe, “still, I kinda just wanna stay here with you tonight.“

“Yeah?” he asks with a half smile, “what about girl’s night?”

“They’ll survive without me.”

“You really don’t have to cancel your plans for me, sweetheart,” he assures you, that look in his eye telling you more than his words. He doesn’t think you mean it, doesn’t want to seem like he wants you to stay just as badly as you want to… “I think I need some alone time, anyway,” he adds - now avoiding your eye as he speaks, and only fueling your previous suspicions as he fixes the top of your dress, taking a second before he wraps his arms around you. You let your own slide around his neck as he rests his head on your chest.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you reply easily with a kiss to his hair before you urge him back and get off the counter.

He watches you as you turn around, your back to him. “Unzip me?”

He does as you ask, after a few seconds.

You shimmy the dress off and don’t look back to him as you go for your phone set on the opposite counter. You shoot your friends a text letting them know not to expect you tonight as you feel Bucky at your back.

“You don’t have to stay for me,” he says again, even softer now.

You turn to face him, meeting his eye, “Tell me you want me to leave, and I will,” you say.

He bites his lip as he watches you intently, shaking his head a bit before he speaks, “I can’t.”

“Didn’t think so,” you smile triumphantly.

You take his hand in yours and pull him out of the kitchen, down the hall to your shared bedroom. He follows with no complaint.

“You shower, I’ll clean myself up a bit, then cuddles and talking, and then… round two?”

“And three,” he agrees, pulling your naked body against his still clothed one before he kisses you again. “And dinner somewhere in between.”

“Sounds good,” you smile against his lips. “The usual?”

He nods, “I’ll call it in when we get outta the shower.”

“We?” you quirk a brow, noticing the twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes just a moment too late.

You yelp as he picks you up effortlessly in his inhumanly strong arms, his mirthful chuckle sending butterflies alight in your belly as he smiles that charming smile at you.

“We,” he confirms, walking you both into the bathroom, with no complaint from you as you relax in his hold.

God, have you missed this.

[alexiroflife]

jjk men calling you annoying...

"hi! ik u have a few reqs to do and ur going on vacation but i was reading some of ur works and saw u did a headcannon for calling jjk men annoying. i was thinking what if u did the opposite w the jjk men calling reader annoying? if u dont decide to do this thats okay! cant wait to eat up your other upcoming fics <3" -anon

some angst, jjk men being assholes (except for nanami)

satoru, suguru, kento, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo:

normally, satoru is the one that is considered to be annoying. every higher up, coworker, and student of his alike would agree that satoru’s personality is pestering on its own, for his behavior doesn’t align with the severity of the jujutsu world in the eyes of others.

satoru has never cared how others judged him, for he often takes to picking on others for the sake of getting a reaction. he enjoys lightening the mood of drab situations, therefore he’s tossing around inappropriate jokes during meetings, teasing utahime for the umpteenth time, or trying to force megumi into spending quality time with him while the sixteen year old does his best to pretend he doesn’t know him in public.

and with you, he’s far worse. satoru can not bear being away from you or your attention being focused into anything other than him for longer than two minutes, and he’s always making an excuse to abandon whatever he’s doing to be by your side. satoru is the very definition of clingy, and while everyone finds it annoying, you can not deny that you adore how the strongest glues himself to you as though he can not bear for the two of you to be parted.

those around him believe it’s impossible for someone as annoying as gojo to actually be annoyed by anything, but you know what pisses him off. you know that he can not stand the jujutsu higher ups and how they antagonize children who were given no choice but to live the lives they lead. he can not stand the way they order him around to carry out unfavorable tasks with no regard for his past experiences or the experiences of the students that he is meant to monitor. he can not stand the lectures, the judgmental tones, the expectation of respect when it is not given in return.

and he can not stand when he is forced to attend hearings or meetings with them, where he has to listen to them drone on and on about how irresponsible he is when satoru is the only one truly looking out for the good of all groups. they demand so much of him, yet treat him like trash in return. nothing peeves him off more.

he knows that you understand this about him as a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, but you have the tendency to be more tolerant of injustices than he is. what he means is that you know how to save face for the sake of your own sanity and pay the elders no mind whilst simultaneously making them think that you are in cooperation with them. you know how to feign manners and respect, which satoru does not bother to do.

consequently, when you tell him that the upcoming meeting that he has scheduled with the higher ups is one he should attend instead of skipping due to its level of importance, he can’t help but be irritated with you.

“i’m just saying, satoru,” you say into the speaker with your phone pressed to your ear. the blue eyed man is on his way to said meeting after you practically forced him to attend, and he’s not at all happy about it. “once you’re in there, you’ll be out in no time.”

“(y/n), somehow those pricks make a half an hour feel like two,” your boyfriend complained into the phone. you place your hand on your hip and look up to the ceiling.

“you’re being so pessimistic about it,” you sigh. “it’s gonna be worse the worse you talk about it.”

“no, it’s gonna be bad regardless because these higher ups don’t know up from down or left from right.”

you can tell he’s growing aggravated, which was the opposite effect you wanted this call to have. you lower your head and attempt to shift, to reassure him in a different way.

“it’s gonna be okay, toru,” you tell him. “you’re above these people anyway, no matter what the hierarchy at this school is-“

“if you really thought that, you wouldn’t have made me go.”

you frown. “you didn’t really have a choice with this one, you know that right? whether you like the assholes or not, the meeting itself is important. you need to be there.”

“i really wish you’d stop saying that,” he exhales, agitatedly.

“stop saying what?” you scrunch your face, hand falling from your hip. “that it’s your responsibility?”

“yeah, actually,” he snaps. “hell, you’re starting to sound just like everyone else.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff. “satoru, i’m just trying to help you. sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal.”

“suck it up?” he repeats incredulously. “i suck it up every day of my life. everyone wants me to do something for them, but expects me not to have my own opinions in return and that shit doesn’t make any sense.”

“that’s not what i’m trying to say-“

“then what are you trying to say? to just go along with all the messed up shit the higher ups want me to do?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“to just attend a meeting for the sake of your job, satoru. my god, that’s all.”

he tchs, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes on the other line. “fine. whatever.”

“what’s with your attitude? i’m genuinely just trying to look out for you, like…?”

“you’re not helping, (y/n). you’re being annoying.”

his words sting, and you stand still in the hall to your classroom as you register satoru’s tone and accusation. there’s silence, and satoru knows that when you say nothing more, he’s crossed a line.

even so, he’s too heated currently to own up to it in this moment, so he lets the silence swallow you both as he walks.

“okay,” you mumble apathetically after a while. “bye, satoru.”

you hear him prepare to say something, but your thumb is already hiding the end call button.

throughout the next half and hour, you try your best to focus on teaching your lesson to the second years, but you find yourself struggling.

you understand satoru’s frustrations with the higher ups, but to take that frustration out on you is completely uncalled for.

and to call you annoying? for ensuring that he doesn’t further endanger his already shaky position with the the authorities over him? how ungrateful is that! how could he label you as a disturbance to him when all you’ve ever done was try to lighten his load?

you don’t understand it. and it hurts to know that one little thing in comparison to the plethora of clingy annoyances that satoru has the habit of displaying that you don’t even find aggravating is enough to send him over the edge.

you’re aggressively erasing your chalkboard at the end of your lesson when you hear the sound of air flushing and papers fluttering behind you. immediately, you feel satoru’s presence much to your displeasure.

“baby?” he calls you tentatively, though you already know full well that he is there in your vacant room. you don’t reply, continuing to swipe your eraser over the chalk. “baby, please don’t ignore me,” he sighs guiltily. “can i… can we just talk?”

“get out, satoru.”

you can physically feel Satoru’s mannerisms droop behind you, but you do not fall for it. he deserves your standoffishness, your unwillingness to engage.

“i just wanna talk, (y/n)… just five minutes?”

you clench your jaw, brows angling tensely as his earlier words run through your mind again and again. your pace picks up and your movements grow harsher.

before you know it, you feel the white haired man brushing behind you inches away, reaching a hand to your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“stop!” you rip away, stepping back. satoru retracts his hand quickly, crystal eyes blown wide as he watches you. you slam your eraser down onto the ledge and hold your hands up. “just stop! you don’t get to be rude to me and then just come back around as if everything’s okay. what if I don’t want to talk to you?”

having removed his blindfold before coming here, you can see the pain and remorse circling in his gaze. “pretty, i didn’t mean to say what i said,” he starts again slowly. “i-i’m sorry, i was just overstimulated and angry- not even at you, and you were telling me to do something I didn’t want to do but had to do, then i…” he huffs. “i’m so sorry.”

you fold your arms and stare harshly at the board, brows twitching as satoru’s smooth, genuine apology flows through your ears.

when you still don’t say anything, satoru’s mouth tugs downward and his lashes fluttere prettily over his cheek. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me or see me right now. i was being shitty, and i didn’t mean it, baby. i just had to come and tell you that as soon as the meeting was over… and you were right. i needed to be there.”

you close your eyes. “why don’t you ever listen to me?”

satoru practically jumps when he hears you speak. “what did you say?”

“you never listen to me, toru,” you look at him desperately. “you always do what you want to do, and when i have to make you do something, you pout. is what i say really that unimportant to you?”

“no,” he rushes out, swooping in to stand before you so he can meet your eyes up close. “no, no, no. no, that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“i listen to you, baby. i do, i just struggle when you give me suggestions about work because we have completely different approaches. you play by the rules more and i do what i think is best even if it’s not what I’m told is best. which is okay. i’m not saying that either way is better than the other, it’s just that difference between us clashes sometimes.”

you hum.

“but that doesn’t mean i don’t listen, or don’t respect you, (y/n). i respect you more than anyone i know.”

“then you should act like it.”

“i know,” he pushed out his bottom lip, taking your forearms in his hands. “i know, i can be all over the place sometimes. i’m sorry pretty girl.”

you wish you could stay angry, but satoru’s touch almost instantly melts away the tension in your body. almost.

“please don’t call me annoying like that again,” you look over him. “seriously, that wasn’t nice.”

“never,” he swears. “i promise, never again. i don’t even know why it came out in the first time. please forgive me, baby, I’m sorry.”

you exhale, and before you can respond, satoru is ducking down and suffocating your face with a plethora of kisses from your forehead to cheeks and down to your jaw. murmurs of apologizes slip through as he attacks you, and you squeal as you try turn away.

“okay!” you shout, pushing at his chest. “i forgive you, get off!”

“i love youuu,” he lands a particularly long kiss to your nose. “so much. let me take you out tonight to apologize properly, pretty. will you let me?”

you stifle a smile, keeping your hands to your chest as you glare up at him when he pulls away with a grin. “fine.”

suguru geto:

suguru loves you dearly, truly he does, but he notices that the longer he is in a relationship with you, the more entitled you become. granted, he spoils the hell out of you because you’re his one and only, therefore he only feels it is appropriate to shower you with the unconditional love that he has for you.

you know that suguru rarely ever says no to you. hell, he doesn’t want to deny you of the things you ask of him because he should be the person that you always come to for anything. along with his girls, you’ve stolen his heart, and his love language is taking care of you - making you rotten.

so when suguru can not abide by what you demand, you pout and poke and prod and pester. in some ways, you remind him of how satoru used to behave in his company, so commanding of what you want from him in the most combative, brattiest way that it has him rubbing the space between his forehead with angled brows.

and the attitude on you is criminal. suguru knows he can not necessarily talk because his attitude is just as bad, but the moment suguru disagrees with you about something, you make it a point keep pressing the matter sassily.

there are a million things that suguru finds to be more of a pain to his peace than you, but he can not deny that when you get on his nerves, you truly tick him off.

suguru is known to have very little patience in general. he chalks it up to his occupation, having to deal with idiotic human beings all day to the point where it wears down his capacity for bullshit. he needs things to resolve themselves at his pace in order to feel as though he can go about his day, but when they don’t, it frustrates him to no end.

that is why when you fail to give it a rest after suguru has told you no four times now to getting lunch with you because he has business to take care of, he is beginning to lose his cool.

“(y/n),” suguru exhales your name in exasperation. he’s on his way out of the front door. “angel, you know i’m busy today. you’re usually a lot more understanding when it comes to my schedule, i don’t know where the disconnect is right now.”

you’re growing upset, for you’ve never enjoyed watching suguru leave, but for some reason you are feeling all the more sensitive to his departure today. the dark haired cult leader has been so busy lately that you and the girls have hardly been able to catch him for longer than five minutes when he’s home. you want to sit and talk with him, to at least have a quick thirty minute meal together, but he’s still refusing you, and you never fair well with being refused by geto.

“but suguru,” you curl your brows and gaze at him sadly. “I’m just asking for one day. that’s all, we don’t even need to be out long. i already have a place in mind that’s right around the corner from the group- i can even pick you up. you won’t have to worry about a thing. please, just this once?”

the hazel eyed man can not stand saying no to you, even more so when you look at him with such pleading in your eyes, but he’s told you a hundred times that he can’t do what you please today. as much as he’d love to go to lunch with you, there are no exceptions. he’s already pushing himself behind by trying to reason with you.

“the answer is no, (y/n),” he tells you with soft sternness. your frown deepens leading Suguru to walk over to you. he guides his hand to your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. “i’m sorry. i know things haven’t been the best lately with me being home, but i’m trying my best.”

you want to be more supportive, but you miss suguru. you do, and to feel like a second priority to a cult he doesn’t even like makes you upset.

you grumble incoherently under your breath and cross your arms. suguru feels your stature shift, and he pulls away to eye you. you avoid his gaze purposefully, and suguru instantly knows what’s going on with you.

“don’t start,” he advises as a warning. you don’t take well to the comment, the muscles in your face tightening as you go to ease away from suguru’s grasp. he doesn’t have time for this right now. “i mean it.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you murmur, looking down as suguru examines you closely.

“you’re sulking.”

“okay, and maybe that’s because i don’t want my boyfriend to leave?” you snap.

“i know, (y/n). you’re acting like i want to leave too, but this is work.”

“and clearly work’s more important now,” you roll your eyes.

suguru shakes his head and pulls away with narrow eyes. “you’re being incredibly irritating right now.”

you freeze, geto’s words stabbing you through the chest like a stake to the heart. “what?” you repeat weakly, your grit having gone.

“you aren’t listening to me. it’s getting old and it’s irritating,” he says again, this time as he turns away and walks back to the door.

you stare at his back blankly. your heart hammers against your chest, and your face falls. normally when you behave a certain way that suguru doesn’t appreciate, he spends his time either circling back and trying to reach and understand or punishing you. but now, he’s just walking away with no intention of doing either. you expected more, and you hadn’t expected for him to outright call you annoying.

sure, you push a little too much sometimes, but annoying? all you want is him. is it annoying to desire such a simple thing?

“i’ll be home later, alright? we can talk about this when i get back,” he tells you, pulling the door open and allowing the sunlight to peer in. when you do not respond, he speaks again in annoyance. “alright?”

you still don’t answer, and this time he turns over his shoulder to see what is keeping you from giving him a verbal affirmation.

his face relaxes, however, when he says you standing silently with your hands at your sides. your gaze has turned to one of subtle embarrassment as you frown, mulling over suguru’s emotions in a less stubborn, more deflated manner.

despite suguru’s irritation with you, the moment he sees your discomfort, he’s flipping the switch in an instant.

slowly, he shuts the door again without a word. he figures it won’t hurt anyone to be another five minutes late, for he is the founder of the religious group after all. what he says goes, and he will not leave until this mild conflict with you is sorted out.

he walks over and takes your head in his hands, tilting your face up to reveal your big, shiny eyes. with another quiet sigh, he’s taking one hand and rubbing your shoulder as he holds your stare.

“i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells you gently, immediately knowing what is plaguing you. “i’m just frustrated.”

“…frustrated with me?” you ask slowly.

he presses his lips together. “yeah, angel. i am a little bit,” he confesses honestly. while this isn’t the response you wanted, geto knows it’s the response you need to hear… even if you struggle to accept it, your head nodding stiffly but your eyes telling a story of humiliation. and he hates it. he hates how unhappy you look, but no good has ever come from partners lying to one another about how they feel.

“but,” you start as suguru’s swipes a thumb over your brow lovingly. “suguru, all i wanted was to have lunch with you. is that such a crazy thing? you’re hardly around anymore.”

“i know, (y/n), and no it’s not, but you’re not respecting the fact that while i want to more than anything, i can’t. not today,” he says once more. “i do this for you and the girls too, you know. it’s not just for me. any money i make is yours, and if i need to work my ass off to provide for you and our future, i will. and it’s not fair for you to throw a fit when i can’t drop all of that when you ask me to.”

it’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you know that suguru’s point is more than valid.

you inhale and exhale deeply, his touch swarming you tenderly despite how he feels. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “im sorry for pushing. i just want you here. it gets hard sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

he pulls your face in to kiss your cheek softly, your hand going to cradle his wrists.

“and i’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected in any way, and for calling you irritating. there was probably a better way for me to say that.”

“it’s okay,” you mumble as pulls away. “i probably was being annoying anyway...”

geto smiles softly. “you were,” he chuckles, and you gap at him.

“suguru,” you frown and he laughs again.

“sorry.” the hazel eyed man leans in to capture your lips in a soft kiss before you can pour any longer, eyes gleaming kindly when he draws back. he at least does not look aggravated any longer, his features much calmer than before. “how about a day out this weekend? you, me, and the girls.”

your eyes light up. “really? you’re sure?”

“yeah, angel,” he nods. “i miss you all too, you know. you’re all i think about when I’m dealing with those monkeys all day.”

“…can we maybe go to the farmer’s market?” you suggest. “i wanna get some stuff to make a big dinner for us, and the girls want to get some flowers.”

“absolutely we can. sounds great.”

“thank you,” you smile, wrapping your arms over his neck and tugging him down into a tight hug. suguru laughs gently, sliding his arms around you. “i hope you have a good day today. i won’t pester you about work anymore.”

“okay, baby,” he rubs your back. “I gotta go now, okay? i’ll try not to be out late. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

kento nanami:

despite kento’s remarkable talent in serving you as your partner, he is still a human being subject to human emotions. when he’s annoyed with you, he doesn’t make it your problem. he simply makes it known that he is beginning to be plagued by the feeling, and though it hurts your feelings, you understand and give him the space he needs.

kento does not get irritated with you often at all. you are a gift upon his stressful life, and it’s difficult for you to pose as a source of stress when the rest of his life is already so anxiety-inducing. you’re his everything, and even when he does get ever so slightly annoyed with you, it’s never at the same level as other factors - like gojo. you don’t even begin to compare.

the only time nanami finds himself growing upset because of you is when you choose not to listen to or communicate with him.

nanami works hard to put your needs before his own and he is more than happy to do so. he feels it is the only way things should be, for as long as you are happy and well cared for, he is content.

however, there are moments when he does so that can come off to you as a tad overbearing. he cares for your physical and mental wellbeing, so that also comes with constant check ins about whether you’re eating properly or how much sleep you’re getting. it’s sweet, his persistent doting, but you don’t always fair well with how often he’s interrogating you about your lifestyle when he literally witnesses every second of what you do as your fiancé.

and of course, when you react poorly by getting even the slightest hint of an attitude or portray your own annoyance in a poor manner, nanami, who always tries his best to find a solution to problems if you are bothered by something, is bothered himself when you do not cooperate.

nanami is incredibly patient with you, and he tries his best to practice patient with you when he internally feels you are being unreasonable.

so he resorts to silence as he ponders what to do next. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table as tension swirls about. your knee is frantically bouncing as you glare ahead. you don’t like when kento does something to bother you, for everything he does is so perfect you feel like you don’t have a right to be bothered, and you rarely ever are. and you may try to hide when you’re upset, but nanami sees you so clearly. he knows you like the back of his hand, therefore, there is no hiding.

and of course, nanami would never grow annoyed with what you feel… it’s how you communicate with him when you feel a certain way. you shut down and make it impossible for him to talk through it, and as someone who likes to work through things while they are occurring, it’s a bit of a pain when you go quiet and refuse to give him anything.

now, you both sit rather annoyed with one another, for that is likely the only instance nanami will feel some sort of irritation sparked by you. the blonde taps his finger against the table with his legs crossed, unsure of how to move forward. he’s tried calling your name, tried asking you what’s wrong, tried suggesting anything he can do to fix it, but you, afraid to even further speak truth into your emotions, reply with shrugs and mute shakes of your head.

it takes at least another few minutes for nanami to rise slowly, fixing the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat you look up and see by his rigid posture that he is not in the happiest of spirits, and when you finally notice, you realize that he had been silent along with you for quite some time now, his series of questions having ceased.

“i am going for a drive,” he announces formally. you blink up at him, your knee still bouncing. his chocolate eyes meet yours with a hefty sigh. “i won’t be longer than forty minutes.”

forty?!

“…okay,” is the very first word you have said in a while, and nanami nods curtly. though he appears indifferent, his shoulders are tense, his jaw is taut, and a dent creases the space between his brows. you can tell by these signs that he has grown to match your previous feelings. “where are you going?”

“to clear my head. i don’t believe anything productive will come from the both of us sitting here like this.”

you furrow your brows. “are you angry with me now?”

“no,” he gathers his keys. “i am not angry. only, admittedly, a bit perturbed,” he says without looking at you.

you know that nanami had annoyed you first, but to hear him tell you so is humbling nonetheless. what reason does he have to be annoyed? what did you do?

“um,” you stumble. “why…?”

the prospect of you now trying to interrogate him after he had spent so much time trying to get through to you, or at least a word out, does very little to ease the man.

he lifts a hand, guiding his palm out to ease the conversation before it can escalate. “(y/n), i’m not in any state to talk about this right now. give me a bit and i will be back.”

his eyes find yours to ensure that you see that earnest in his brow hues, and your shoulders slump, your knee stilling completely.

“is that alright?”

you nod slowly. “yes. that's alright.”

kento nods again, swiping up his jacket from the back of his chair before stepping out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.

you reel in his absence, sitting in the aftermath. maybe you reacted poorly… but you couldn’t help it. you don’t always enjoy being overwhelmed with a series of questions from your boyfriend as though he is your doctor or father. sometimes you just wish to be.

you know he only does so out of concern. you know he loves you, better than anyone has ever loved you, but your reaction had been involuntary.

the look on nanami’s face only proved that you should have handled the situation differently. you hate when he’s upset, but that way of thinking alone is unfair. he likely hates when you’re upset too, and you shut down when he was trying to help.

as guilt swarms you, you retreat to the living room where you mindlessly flip through the tv channels, your focus elsewhere.

kento ends up returning hardly twenty minutes later. you look in surprise to the door as he enters with takeout in his hands. he looks up, his face a bit more relaxed as he enters.

neither of you speak as he kicks his shoes off at the door and makes his way toward you. he sets the bags of food down on the coffee table before you and slowly sits down next to you, hands to his thighs.

“i got us dinner,” he says as you shuffle to make room for him. the aroma of your favorite thai food fills your senses and makes you become rather aware to your hunger, for you haven’t eaten in a while.

kento sits with his forearm resting on his knee, his body facing you. you look away, embarrassed to even speak to him, though you do whisper a ‘thank you’ that is only audible to nanami because he is seated right beside you.

he reaches a hand out to hold yours, his other sliding over top to caress the back of it. “honey,” he starts softly. “I don’t want this to go on longer than it should.”

“you’re back earlier than you said,” you mention, looking down at his hands over yours.

“i didn’t need to be gone long to want to sit down with you about this again.” you nod. “are you okay?” he asks you, and you nod again.

“yeah, are you?”

“i’m better,” he answers. “my intention was not to leave on a bad note so abruptly. i just needed a moment to myself.”

“no, i understand, ken. i don’t blame you for taking a step back.”

“are you okay with me telling you why i was upset?”

“of course i am.”

he gives a gentle smile before proceeding. “it seems that every time i try to work through something with you, you do not wish to cooperate. if you were to tell me that you need space before explaining, i would understand better and give you time, but you say nothing. you barely even look at me, and i try my best to give you the patience you deserve but you do not do the same for me.”

“it’s not that- I wasn’t trying to be impatient with you, it’s just that sometimes i don’t want to talk about things.”

“then I would prefer it if you’d say that instead of shutting me out, because then i’m left to pick up the pieces with nothing to go off of,” he pleads. “and it’s unhealthy for you to harbor everything that bothers you inside. you could get sick doing that, and it hinders our communication.”

you can tell he is about to give you another lecture, which is what led you here in the first place. you take in a deep breath and try to regulate yourself, glancing down. “yeah, i hear you,” you mutter. “i just get… i don’t know, it feels weird to tell you when something you’ve done bothers me.”

“why, sweetheart?”

“because you’re so good to me,” you frown. “you don’t deserve to hear that i’m upset with you for probably no reason.”

“look at me, honey.” you oblige, locking eyes with his once again shyly. “as good as i am to you and you are to me, getting angry or upset or irritated with one another is normal. it’s healthy. no relationship is free of trials, and if this is our worst problem, i’d confidently say that we are doing quite well.”

you listen to him carefully, taking in his words as you look over his face.

“now, will you tell me what it was i did to upset you earlier?”

“it’s so stupid, ken.”

“your feelings are not stupid. please. i need to know so i don’t repeat my mistakes.”

you huff and eventually give in. “well, sometimes... you do this thing… where you lecture me… and i appreciate you looking out for me all the time, but sometimes when you ask me a hundred things at once about stuff that I’m more than aware of as an adult, it makes me feel like you’re patronizing me.”

a stern look of realization crosses the blonde’s features. “i had no idea.”

“i mean… i never told you, so i was getting upset with you for something you weren’t even aware of,” you exhale. “i’m really sorry, kento. I struggle with communicating certain things, and i shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so irritated in the first place.”

“there’s no need for you to apologize,” he dismisses. “i apologize for making you feel as though I’ve been speaking down to you. i only check in so often because i care.”

“i know,” you lean in. “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“but i can see how it may be a bit overbearing,” he admits. “i’ll try to mind myself in the future.”

“oh, it’s okay, ken,” you lift your hand to his cheek, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “you’re perfect, baby. i’m sorry if i made you feel otherwise.”

“i am far from perfection, my love,” he kisses your inner palm. “i make plenty of mistakes.”

“so do i, clearly,” you chuckle.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his warm eyes. “yes, but the way i see it, you would not be perfect without them.”

choso kamo:

choso, bless his heart, has never found anything you do to be even remotely close to what he could find annoying. everything you do in his eyes is perfect, flawless, and he clings to you so much that he finds it impossible to think of your actions or words as something that poses as an aggravation to him.

what he finds irritating is when yuji will borrow his shirts without asking and fail to return them for days, or when he’s been assigned on a mission and it lasts far longer than he intended to be there, the task cutting into time he could be spending with you, or even when other people serve as a nuisance to you. you have never, ever been on the list of things that get on his nerves, and he doesn’t think you ever will be.

that’s why he feels such guilt when he starts to feel that familiar sense of annoyance bubbling in his chest when you keep asking him to let you know about his plans for the weekend.

you’ve asked him numerous times at this point, and he has given you the same answer: he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with his brother or when he’ll be home, and that he’d let you know as soon as he figures it out. but you know that by the time he ‘figures it out’ it will be past the time you need to plan around his absence.

you’re an organized person, and you like to know in advance what is happening in your boyfriend’s life so that you can either prepare to spend some time with him or not waste the effort looking forward to doing so if he will be out late. this is especially a big deal to you because choso tends to get carried away when spending time with his little brother. the brunette loves his family so dearly, and you have always admired how fiercely he cares for those close to him, but his tendency to just go along with whatever yuji’s hyper mind thinks of on the spot without having the sense to think of how it will impact his brother’s girlfriend yet always gets to you.

you want choso to spend time with his brother, you do, but you just wish that he would have the decency of letting you in on what he plans to do on the days they are together more often.

therefore, it is friday and you continue to ask him to let you know what the plans are, and choso, still not completely understanding of what you want, is growing tired of the nagging.

“i already told you, love,” he reasons as best as he can with you, his voice dipping lower. “i don’t know how long we’ll be out. i promise you i’ll let you know.”

you’re moving about the kitchen while choso stands at the corner, eyes heavy as he watches you. he’s trying his hardest to mask his growing agitation, for he knows that you are very keen on picking up on his tells that reveal his emotions. when he’s aggravated, his brows angle ever so slightly and his lids weigh over bored vision, his lips curled in a frown.

you haven’t looked at him yet. your back is to him as your rummage through your fridge. “yeah, cho, you said that already, and you say that every time you go out,” you close the fridge door, carton of eggs in your hand for you to prepare lunch.

“and i always come back,” he says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t understand what the problem is… i’d never stay out all night without coming back.”

“it’s not about you coming back or not, it’s about when you come back,” you try to explain, placing the eggs on the counter to turn and reaching to grab a bowl. “i’ve definitely talked about this before, right? sometimes i stay up for you or want to hang out with you when you get back, but you never give me an estimated time when you’re with your brother so i can plan around it.”

choso exhales through his nose slowly, looking down. “the point is that if i knew, i’d tell you…”

you look up, catching the dipped pitch in his tone, and tilt your head to the side upon taking in his stature. he’s pouting.

you stop what your doing, pressing your hands to the ledge of the other side of the counter and leaning over with a suspicious look.

“are you alright?” you ask slowly.

choso meets your eye, a hint of a deer in in headlights look capturing him. “yes,” he says stiffly, quickly, and you are not convinced whatsoever.

“you sure? because your face says otherwise,” you nod toward him.

conflict is pretty foreign to the two of you within your relationship. neither of you ever want to upset the other, so in tiptoeing around certain issues, a lot of them are either brushed over and pent up. choso specifically things it’s damn near a sin to be upset with you, and you him, for he still does not understand certain inner workings of human connections.

he does not want to ruin what he has with you, and he does not comprehend why he is growing annoyed with someone he cherishes so much. he still loves you, but he can’t help this feeling. it burdens him with guilt, and he does not know how to respond once you catch him.

“is something bothering you?” you ask carefully. “are you upset because i keep asking about this weekend?”

choso doesn’t respond. he feels like it’s a trap, for he would never lie to you but to admit that he’s annoyed is an entirely different ball park that he is horrified to step into. he looks at you shamefully, face still tense but he’s trying hard to relax, to mask the way he truly feels.

you raise a brow. “…choso?”

“i’m fine,” he tells you. once again, he’s answering far too quickly.

“okay,” you exhale, shifting on your feet. choso watches you anxiously, keeping incredibly still as though moving will make the earth shatter. “I know you really well, cho. clearly the conversation is bothering you.” after another moment of silence from your boyfriend, you continue. “you can be honest with me, or else you’ll just be carrying this around with you all day.”

“…i don’t wanna upset you,” he eventually murmurs.

“I understand, but that’s not realistic,” you say with subtle sternness in your tone. “just like it’s not realistic to pretend like you aren’t upset right now when i can clearly tell you are. we both have rights to feeling whatever we feel, so just… come on, tell me what’s going on.”

with a pensive expression, choso slowly allows himself to give in. “it’s just that…” he begins hesitantly. “i’m not really sure what you want me to tell you anymore. about my plans.”

“i'm not asking anything out of the question, i just want you to plan more for my sake.”

“but i keep repeating myself when i tell you that yuji and i don’t plan… it’s a little…”

“it’s a little what?”

“just… kind of… annoying.”

you reel, staring at choso incredulously. you never thought you would have seen the day where your sweet significant other, horrified of touching you the wrong way, would call you annoying. admittedly, you’re a little wounded. you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet choso is aggravated by your desire to simply know what time he’s coming home. you’re not asking for too much. you hardly believe you’re asking for anything at all. you know that choso can be irrational, but never with you. never like this.

you nod to yourself slowly, pursing your lips. choso eyes you carefully, uncertain of how his own words have landed. you wanted him to be honest, and this is how he’s feeling. should he have just lied? should he have kept it to himself anyway?

suddenly, you resume what you are doing and turn away from choso wordlessly. the violet eyed man’s eyes widen as you go searching for a pan, and air of intensity about you.

“(y/n)?” he says your name cautiously after a while of you shuffling about. “you okay?”

“it’s cool,” you respond shortly, and choso shrinks.

he moves to round the counter to approach you slowly, but you do not slow yourself when you notice him moving into the kitchen beside you. “i don’t think it is…”

“choso, i know how you feel now and that’s that. i’ll leave it be.”

you sound mad. choso doesn’t like it at all, and he’s unsure of how to even speak to you this way. he doesn’t want to further ruin your mood, but he has to make sure you’re alright… that he didn’t cross some sort of line.

“i’m sorry,” he hastily apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse.”

“don’t apologize for what you feel,” you strictly say, moving to the other side of the kitchen the second choso gets close to you.

he stops, his traces of annoyance having completely washed away. “but you’re mad now.”

“i’m not mad, i just- i’m a little annoyed too now.”

he deflates. “oh,” he mumbles, hands falling to his sides. “then, what do what do now?”

you exhale, taking a moment to pause and turn to face choso from the other side of the space. “i wanna talk about why i’m irritated.”

“okay… and that won’t make it worse?”

“no, because i’ll at least be getting my point across.”

he nods dejectedly. “alright. why are you upset?”

“because you won’t take a second to put yourself in my shoes and understand that planning for my sake now that we live together will help ease my anxiety,” you explain, your hand moving about as you emphasize your stance. “i don’t care how long you and yuji are out. that’s not the point, and i know you don’t plan, but I’m asking you to at least start to, because i get tired of falling asleep waiting for you because i don’t know when you’re coming home. if i knew in advance, i wouldn’t have to stay up or get my hopes up about you coming back at a certain time. and then you tell me that i’m annoying you because i just want to be informed. like, that’s a little rude, choso. it’s basically like you saying you don’t care what i ask for.”

“i do care,” he cuts in passionately, brows knitted with a look of guilted sadness. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know it was like that for you.”

“because you never bothered to ask.”

“i’m sorry,” he says again. “i shouldn’t have called you annoying. that was mean. you just… told me to be honest, so i said what i was thinking.”

“that’s another thing, choso, we’re not perfect. we’re people and we react to things differently. this isn’t the last time we’ll be annoyed with each other.”

“i don’t like that,” he grumbles.

“we don’t have to like it, but that’s just how things are. it doesn’t mean we love each other any less, and we’re not always going to agree on why we’re annoyed with one another.”

“…are we fighting?”

you scoff a slight, tired laugh and shake your head. “no, we’re not fighting. we’re just talking.”

“okay,” he nods. “well, i’m sorry. i am. i’ll try to do better about planning for you. and you’re not annoying, (y/n). i love you.”

you soften. “i love you too, cho, just please be more mindful of how you react sometimes.”

“i will,” he mumbles. “…can i… i mean, is it wrong to ask you for a hug or do you need some time?”

“come over here,” you beckon him over. the brunette is quick to comply, stepping heavily over to you and burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around his frame as he holds you, murmuring numerous apologies to you over and over in your ear.

“maybe i’ll just stay home,” he suggests, mumbling into your skin.

“you don’t need to do that, cho, that’s not what i was asking of you.”

“i know, but i’d rather stay in with you anyway. or maybe we can make it a group thing if you want to come with.”

“i’ll see how i feel this weekend, but that’s sounds great, baby. thank you.”

toji fushiguro:

toji has a habit of getting caught up in his stress accumulated from the day. he’ll return home grumpily, muscles twitching and lips tight in a scowl. his back aches and his head hurts, and all he wants to do is crawl up into bed with you and snooze for the rest of the night.

of course, this isn’t always plausible. life presents its daily interferences that throw off his plans of laziness with the woman he loves, and sometimes, the woman he loves herself is the very thing standing in the way of his tranquility.

you don’t do so on purpose. while toji leads his life of chaos and crime, you busy yourself with your own less illegal tasks, and those tasks and your desires by the end of the day don’t always match his. and toji, despite how wholly he loves you, has the unintentional tendency to be selfish, for it’s how he’s lived his whole life before meeting you.

and that tendency especially shines through when his mind is clouded by exhaustion. if he wants you to lay still with him for the rest of the night, why can’t he? why the hell do you have to run out to the store instead? or finish up an assignment that takes an extra hour and a half to complete? or try to talk to him about your day when he just wants peace and quiet in your wordless physical presence?

it ticks him off, and he’s already moody enough before he comes home to realize that he is not going to get what his mind and heart have been set on for hours. he tries his best not to take things out on you when he is in a healthy, normal conscious state, but he can not help it at the worst of times. before he knows it, he’s snapping at you all because you wanted to show him an album of pictures you came across during your visit to your parents today.

“oh!” you gasp excitedly, leaning into toji’s shoulder as you lounge with him on the bed, your phone presenting itself to his face. you’re propped up with your back to the headboard while toji is laid flat against the pillow with a sour expression. “and this one is from halloween when i was eleven! holy shit, look at my braces! damn, they really threw off the whole costume. i still look cute though, don't i?"

toji doesn't know how you haven't noticed his lack of response as you swipe through photo after photo, your voice a blabber of nonsense in his ear as he closes his eyes in vexation. he can feel himself nearing his last straw as you shift your entire conversation enthusiastically, diving into some story about your family that is hardly related to the pictures you have been sharing.

the dark-haired man is so tired, so fed up with noise and the questions you ask him that you do not even wait for him to respond to before you're cutting in and rambling on again - not that toji even would have responded.

he just wants to sleep... you're still going on, and he wants to sleep.

"and then there was the time that i-"

you're interrupted by a loud groan and the run of toji's large hands down his face. you falter, lowering your phone and furrowing your brows at him slightly, your smile dwindling upon finally taking note of toji's body language.

silence stills the room while toji keeps his hands concealing his face and you simply watch him, stunned.

"uh..." you start pensively, confused. "...why did you just-"

"for the love of christ, girl, can you be quiet for one second?" he interjects once more with the tear of his hands away from his face and the strike of his weary, tense eyes into yours.

you jump. "what?" is all you can ask, awed by the way your boyfriend just spoke to you.

"i had a long day, (y/n). the fuck don't you understand about that?"

your face is scrunching in offense now, your body retracting and your energy transitioning into dejected anger. "toji, why the hell are you talking to me like that?"

"cause you've been workin' my last nerve since i got home," he grits out, tense hands swiping the air. you stare at him with wide eyes. "i'm fuckin' tired. i don't wanna come home to you talkin' my ear off about shit i don't care about. just let me sleep, alright?"

you clamp your mouth shut, a lump forming in your throat and a pit swirling in your chest as you take in toji's hurtful words. his face is hard as he awaits a response from you, and you can do nothing but look at him pathetically, completely torn apart by how swiftly he had made you feel as though you are a burden to him.

you had not meant to interfere with his rest time. you thought he was resting by sitting cozily in bed with you. you thought that he would enjoy seeing pictures of you from the past, hearing about old memories that you revive for the sake of his enjoyment. hell, you would have enjoyed it if the roles were reversed and toji was sharing his childhood memories with you after a long day (if of course, his childhood had been a bit more positive).

you understand that you may have misread the situation, but there was no need for toji to be so cruel to you about it. you hate when he gets like this, so rigid and ruthless with his tone and his words that it makes you feel as though he wants nothing to do with you.

you fight the urge to cry, your body tensing as you swallow hard. you tear your eyes from toji's face, the vision alone scarring you as his words seep in. the green-eyed man watches you shut off your phone swiftly and tuck it carelessly into your pocket with a scoff.

he quirks his brow in befuddlement now as you push yourself off the mattress and cooly whisk yourself around the furniture and to the bedroom door. he pushes himself up, for he didn't want you to leave. he just wanted silence.

"where're you goin'?" he asks as though you have no reason to storm off. you halt in the doorway, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him with glassy eyes.

"to give you your space," you hissed. "after all, i don't want to 'work your last nerve' any more than i already have."

toji can tell by the glossiness of your gaze and the tremble of your voice that he fucked up. he sighs heavily, swiping a hand over his hair. "i ain't mean it like that-" he tries to defend himself, but you have none of it.

"sure you did, toji. or else you wouldn't have said it," you growl. "it's fine. really. you can be an asshole all by yourself while i'm gone. maybe you'll be able to sleep now that your girlfriend is out of the way."

you leave with a slam to the door, the walls shaking in your wake, and toji stares at the wall harshly. the overwhelming silence now envelopes him, the silence that he had been longing for since you started talking, and now that he has it, it doesn't feel right.

he curses to himself, scratching the back of his head. he shouldn't have snapped at you. all you had been doing was sharing something close to your heart with him, and he completely blew you off. it wasn't as though you were the source of his stress - it was his job, yet he reacted in such a way to make it feel as though you were the problem.

fuck. toji knows he has issues with regulating his anger, but he continues to swear that he will work on leaving you out of it, and yet here he is again, mulling over the after-effects of dragging you into his acidity once more.

he's not even tired anymore. he tries to doze off, but all he can think about is your face and how he hurt you.

when he steps out of his room, he finds that you are nowhere to be found in his apartment. he tries calling you, but you don't pick up. he resorts to texting you, asking where you are. you read the messages, but refuse to answer, ensuring that he knows you're pissed off.

he shakes his head and goes to check your location instead, which he is grateful to find that you haven't shut off. he knows you too well. you want him to chase after you and apologize, to put forth the effort that you at times feel he would not extend for your sake.

toji finds you at a bar around the corner, your chin propped in your hand as you stare ahead over the counter emptily with an untouched drink before you. you're slumped in your seat with your phone tucked under your hand, appearing so sad before him, and toji feels his heart ache knowing that he's the reason you look like this.

"go away," you grumble when you see his bulky figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to look his way. the fushiguro leans his forearm against the counter beside you with his other hand propped on his hip. he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse of your face, and you simply turn away stubbornly.

"c'mon doll," he attempts to coax. "don't be mad."

"don't fucking tell me not to be mad, you dick."

toji drops his head. bad start. "listen," he begins, unsure of how to proceed. he has never been good with finding words in these situations. "i shouldn't've said what i said."

you turn to scour at him. "no shit."

he wants to chuckle at how angry you are, for you start cursing up a storm the way toji does on a daily basis, and he finds it rather endearing how quick you are to violate him with your language when he gets on your bad side.

toji doesn't realize that the skin beneath his eyes is creasing a the corner of his lip is tugging upward, for you're gaping at him and smacking his chest rather aggressively. "you think this is funny?"

"no, (y/n), i don't think it's funny," he chuckles, and you fume. you go to slam a few bills onto the table before jumping up from your stool and storming away. toji panics, reaching out and snatching up your arm in his grasp. you're tugged back to him against your wishes, fiery (e/c) hues seething into him as though you seek to kill him with your gaze. "stop, i'm tryna talk to you for a second."

"clearly you think my feelings are a joke to you, toji."

"i don't think that, doll, you know that."

"do i?" you raise your brows. "i wasn't so sure when you talked to me like i was nothing but a nuisance to you."

you go to tug away, but toji holds you to him, looking into your eye intensely. "you ain't a nuisance."

"then why talk to me like that?" you frown. "i wasn't even doing anything to hurt you, i was just trying to share something with you."

"i know baby," he softens, hand coming to cup over your neck. you turn away, leading him to smooth his hand over the back of your head instead as you look off to the side bitterly. "it wasn't you, it was my day-"

"i don't care," you huff. "you can't blame the way you treat people on shitty days - especially the way you treat me! i'm the person in this world who loves you, toji. if you need me to reel in on something, then just say that respectfully, but don't you dare go yelling at me the way you just did. it hurts my feelings."

toji sighs, looking over your face and caressing your hair. "i know, doll, m'sorry," he mumbles. "shouldn't be taking my shit out on you. you ain't ever done a single thing bad to me."

"yeah, you prick," you bite, and toji lets himself smile. "and stop smiling," you push against his chest. "nothing's fucking funny."

"you're right. nothin's funny at all," he agrees. "m'just happy i got a girl who knows how to fight back when i'm bein' an asshole."

"oh, what the fuck ever," you roll your eyes. "you're lucky i don't chop your balls off and hang them on display in the living room."

"nah, i much prefer you gettin' mean with me." he moves to cup your neck again, and this time you allow him, a pretty pout still on your face. "i deserve it."

"you sure as hell do..."

he chuckles, smirk spreading. "c'mere, doll," he pulls you into him, securing his arms around your frame and pressing you to his chest. you ease into him reluctantly, glowering off to the side as your check squishes into his pectoral. you don't hug back, for toji's biceps crush over you and trap your arms within his embrace as he rocks you slowly. "what can i do to make up for it?"

"go jump off a bridge," you mutter, body relaxing into his warmth as his chest rumbles with laughter against you.

ryomen sukuna:

sukuna belittling you with his words has never been anything new to you. while you understand that you withhold a space of softness in his heart that is reserved for you and you only, at times his comfortability with insulting you can go a bit far.

and of course, you’re used to it. he calls you “brat” and “woman” as though you are a nuisance to him when in reality, you are the only person on this planet he has bestowed those names upon with his own definition of affection. he clicks his teeth and rolls his eyes at you when you talk about something that he wants you to believe is of little interest to him, when he is taking mental note of the things you enjoy talking about so that he can suffocate you with your desires long after you have presented a specific like to his attention. and of course, he tells you you are an aggravation to his soul every damn two seconds, as though loving you brings him stress after eons of having lived so freely and ruthlessly - though he still does, your presence does more to ease him into a state of mellowness than anything has prior to his commitment to you.

he very clearly welcomes the feeling and connection to you, but masks so by calling you annoying. all the time. so of course, when he does normally, you are completely desensitized to it.

unless you’re already irritated.

occasionally, there is only so much of sukuna you can handle. you love him to death, but the two of you butt heads so often due to your stubborn natures and unwillingness to allow the other to win that it tends to wear you down after a while. sukuna calls you disrespectful for even talking back, yet allows you to continue to do so as if he gets off on the way you get snippy with him.

it’s entertaining to the lord, after all. why would he spend his time doting on someone boring?

nevertheless, if you’ve had a long day and are in no mood to deal with sukuna’s rather wide range of complex reactions to even the smallest of things that you do, his habits tick you off - especially so when he calls you annoying for something that you feel is anything but.

so as you complain to sukuna about how he needs to be mindful of how many sheets he’s running through by staining them with blood when he carelessly returns to your shared bedroom from yet another colorful expedition, you're peeved by the way he stares at you so carelessly. you’ve been begging him forever to be more mindful of how he treats his belongings, especially now that you share the same things, but he always brushes your concerns aside by saying that he can just get more. but god forbid someone else were to stain his sheets, then he’d be out for blood.

his arms are crossed as he stands before you, eyes rolling over the ceiling as he makes his agitation rather evident. you’re a little thing in comparison to him, yammering on about the tenth set of sheets he has stained this month, but he wants to hear none of it. why is it such a big deal to you anyway? he has thousands of servants and limitless access to resources, so it shouldn’t matter to you whatsoever. besides, you’ve stained numerous sheets of his over the years with your arousal and he’s never complained. why does it all of a sudden hold importance to you what state his belongings are in now?

“would you quit your moaning, woman?” he snarls, overpowering voice speaking over you. his eyes are hard and slim as they stare over you, and you’re bubbling with rage the moment he cuts into what you’re saying. “it is not of relevance to me, so why is it of any relevance to you?”

“because it is, sukuna! why do you only hold value to the things you care about? we share a bed, obviously i’m affected by this too!” you argue.

“you are not a servant. servants concern themselves over such things.”

“oh, so now i’m beneath you for talking about this?”

sukuna groans. “i did not say that, brat.”

“yeah, but you insinuated it!” you retort. “i’m tired, sukuna, i wasn’t trying to make this a big thing.”

“yet you are attempting to by persisting so irritatingly.”

you throw your hands up, at your wit’s end. why does he never listen to you when there is something on your mind? why does he always push aside what you feel matters when he decides it doesn’t matter to him? why is he always so cold with you, so steely and headstrong as though he remains above you like you haven’t been by his side all this time?

you know how sukuna is, and yet him calling your opinions irritating riles you up in this moment. everything has to turn into an argument, and it weighs you down. nothing can ever run smoothly without sukuna taking offense or scoffing at the idea of you coming to him with something you feel should be fixed. you can’t win.

"seriously?" you plead. "i mean, really, i'm irritating because i don't want to sleep in blood every night?"

"christ, you don't sleep in blood. the sheets are changed before you come to rest!" he barks. "that is why i find this so annoying. you are complaining for nothing."

"you know what? you're annoying!" you point a finger to his broad chest. the king of curses lifts a brow, looking down at where your finger prods into him.

"i beg your pardon?" an amused, low chuckle ripples through him as though the sentiment is unheard of, which only pisses you off even more.

"you heard me. you're the fucking annoying one. you're always going on about how i shouldn't talk back, or how everything i feel doesn't make sense, or how the things i want don't matter because you don't want them! you act like you're so far above me, when i'm the only one sleeping in bed with you, sitting on your throne, supporting your psycho-ass ambitions - but i'm the irritating one, right? your girlfriend is such a pain in the ass, isn't she? for caring about your wellbeing and loving you when nobody else will?"

the salmon-haired king's eyes go dull as you shout at him, fury raging in your eyes as you continue to poke at him. you're playing with fire, but you don't care. you're fed up with the pretending, with the sly comments about your intelligence as a human being and the value of your interests.

"woman-"

"shut up! i'm not done."

oh. you've really lost it now, haven't you?

normally, sukuna would have made it a point to silence you and teach you a lesson by now, but for some reason, he's feeling generous. slightly intrigued by your outburst, he lets you go on with a domineering smirk.

"i don't care of you're the king of curses, or if you could kill me with the snap of your fingers, or if you've got thousands of people who bow down to you without a second thought like mindless sheep-"

"you are not those people."

"exactly!" you agree without thinking, and sukuna's smirk brightens. "i'm not! so stop- stop treating me like i am! stop talking to me like i'm unimportant and like i get on your nerves more than i do anything good for you! stop blowing me off because you don't know how to empathize! i'm your girlfriend. i care about you, and i also care about the state of your things which you always make a point to say are mine too- and fucking sue me if i'm tired of walking into your room after a long day to see blood stains from random ass civilians while your servants work to replace them in the next hour! what if i wanna lay down before then, huh? ever thought about that?

"god, i just wish you'd care! is that so hard for you to do, sukuna? to care about me and what i care about? i didn't wanna argue with you, but you make it so damn hard for me not to lose my mind! you never hear me talk about how much you drive me crazy, and you drive me crazy every damn day of the week!"

"is that so?" he pries, slyly.

"yes!"

"i implore you, tell me more about how i drive you crazy."

"have you not been listening to anything i've-?!" you freeze, reconnecting with the moment to look in sukuna's eye and see how he is enjoying listening to your rant. you stop, stepping back and lifting your finger from his chest. you breathe in and out deeply, worked up by your own emotion, and you finally take a second to realize what you have been doing. "you're mocking me," you conclude.

"i am doing no such thing."

you scoff. "whatever, sukuna. just forget it. sorry i'm so irritating to you."

you go to walk off, but sukuna is already wrapping a set of arms around you, tugging you back to his chest. you grit your teeth, peering up over your shoulder to look back and find the demon grinning down at you teasingly.

"you need to relax," he muses.

"don't fucking tell me to relax, sukuna, i'm already pissed off."

"mm. i can see that, and in feeling so you have forgotten who you are speaking to."

"see, this is what i'm talking about! i'm not your servant-"

"yes, yes, i know. it was hard not to catch what you were saying during your little tantrum."

"fuck you," you groan, moving to push away. sukuna tightens his grip, winding his arms securely over your stomach and pressing you to his chest. "sukuna," you whine.

"stop taking everything so personally," he ducks down to speak into your ear over your left shoulder. you jerk, turning your head in the direction of his voice. "you are fully aware that you are not the same as everybody else. if you were, you would not be so mouthy."

"yeah, well it's hard to tell what you think sometimes when you call me annoying all the damn time. if you want me to leave you alone, just say that and i can stop wasting my time."

"enoughhh," he hisses. "you must stop taking things so far."

"and you must stop being so mean," you mimic his speech.

sukuna snorts. "do not worry about the sheets. i will retreat elsewhere after massacres if it while cease your whining."

"oh, how lucky i am," you click your teeth.

"quite so," he turns in to press his lips to the space under your jaw. "if you were anyone else-"

"i'd be dead," you finish, involuntarily leaning into him though your face is still tense. "no one else should be in your bed anyway, you know."

"that is why no one ever will."

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[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

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[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again�� deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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[espace--positif]

Mornings With Him

A collection of husband!Zayne x F!Reader domestic headcanons [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Mornings are always better shared. Especially with the love of your life. A collection of fluffy snapshots of mornings spent with husband!Zayne. Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader WC: ~2.1K Content tags: Established relationship, Domestic fluff, Fluff, Romance, Mild suggestiveness Read on AO3 // My Masterlist

Ever since you married the love of your life and began living together, your mornings have changed for the better. But things haven’t always been so smooth, on account of a few differences in your lifestyle that made themselves glaringly obvious early on.

For one, Zayne is a morning person, and you’re regrettably not. Not to the extent that he is, anyway. You don’t ever clash on this, but it’s caused some… unforeseen difficulties in the past, especially for your husband.

He’s always been the type of person to be ready a full hour before he has to leave, whereas you’re more likely to be rushing out the door exactly on the dot, if not later. On top of that, he’s also a morning runner. So when he would try to quietly sneak out of bed to begin his rigorous routine every morning and you’d sleepily cling to him, coaxing him back to the warmth of your shared bed with an almost 100% success rate, to the point where he started regularly missing his morning runs, he figured something had to change.

His solution? He’d find a way for the two of you to spend your mornings together, outside of bed.

Thus, he carefully crafts a shared routine for the both of you, easing you into his way of life while easing himself out of the constancy of his own diligence, little by little.

One early morning, as Zayne woefully pulls himself away from your iron grip, he decides to venture towards the kitchen on a mission. He brews two large cups of coffee and returns to your shared bedroom, where he finds you sprawled on his side of the bed, trying to soak up any residual warmth. You lift your gaze, meeting his with sleepy eyes, and he instantly recognizes the look on your face - his betrayal will not be forgiven nor forgotten, especially this early in the morning when you’re less than agreeable on most things. Well, on all things, really.

He sits at the edge of the bed and silently offers a cup — your favorite cup — and you glare for a while before sitting up and grabbing it. It warms your hands, and you start to think about forgiving him for abandoning his duties as your personal heater.

Over the next week, Zayne gradually adds more layers to your shared routine, carving out a space for you in his little tasks. You’ve become less and less insistent on dragging him back to bed by force, knowing that you’ll be rewarded with a delicious coffee delivered straight to you within a few minutes of his departure. Once his peace offering is well received, he wraps your robe around you and takes you by the hand, leading you to sit by the patio window to enjoy your coffee - in the warmer months, you often sit on the porch — and only then does he take the opportunity to complete his run.

There, while listening to birdsong and being caressed by the gentle breeze, you’re thankful for the brief moment of tranquil solitude. Besides, you know that your husband will be back like clockwork, right as you’ve had your last sip. The corners of your lips inevitably tug upwards every time you see him rounding the bend, jogging back to you. It’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time all over again. You stand to meet him halfway through your yard, and he gently kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around his warm chest, and his embrace feels as comforting as it has ever felt.

You wash your face and brush your teeth while he showers, and vice versa, both of you relishing in the proximity and safety of each others’ presence even while doing something as mundane as getting ready. While you complete the final touches of your routine in the mirror, Zayne works on a simple breakfast. You’ve never been a breakfast person, but after much insistence and lecturing about how it’s the most important meal of the day, you end up caving, graciously accepting anything he offers you in the morning. His prowess at cooking helps too, of course.

Once you’re ready, you sit across from each other at the dining table, where a helping of sometimes egg and toast, sometimes waffles, sometimes fancy greek yogurt, sits waiting for you. There’s often no need for very many words as you share breakfast together. Both of you sit in the solace of each other’s company for a while, comfortable silence occasionally truncated by a comment of yours on how good the food is, or a comment of his on the weather forecast. Eventually, your renewed energy causes conversation to naturally take off, and you end up rambling about mundanities while he listens attentively, as though it’s the most riveting thing in the world.

By the time you’re set to leave, your morning has already brightened, your smile shining brighter than the sun as you offer to tighten your husband’s tie, a ritual he never refuses even though his tie is already in perfect condition. He returns your beaming smile, and finds that his morning has brightened too, more than he ever could have imagined. For a moment, Zayne blissfully contemplates how he would gladly upend his entire mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights, all at once, in exchange for this view.

Not all mornings are so predictable. In fact, some morning are simply a continuation of a long, long night…

Zayne almost thinks his eyes are deceiving him when he sees your hunched-over form lit up by dancing blue light from the TV screen. When he awoke at four in the morning to an empty and cold bed, he assumed that you fell asleep in front of the lawyer drama you were so captivated with, but he didn’t imagine that you’d still be watching.

He gingerly comes down the steps, socks muffling his movement, and you’re so caught up in your show that you don’t hear him coming. He stands there, amused and baffled all at once, taking in the sight of you. Here sits his wife, normally a pinnacle of responsibility, huddled in a blanket with nothing but her face poking out, eyes bleary with tiredness, but burning with fervent focus at whatever ridiculous plotline is surely unfolding before her. He lets out an incredulous chuckle. The TV volume is almost too low to hear and you’re busy squinting at the subtitles; you’re considerate even in your most unreasonable moments.

“Honey,” he says, breaking the almost-silence.

You slowly turn to face him, a serious expression etched on your face.

“I think Jacob’s gonna cheat… with Anna-Maria,” you say gravely, as if the world hangs in balance.

He makes a mental note never to leave you to your own devices in front of these shows, even if you swear up and down you’ll only watch one more episode before you join him in bed. But for now, he figures you’ll need proper closure on whether Jacob truly plans to cheat on his wife with his legal assistant, and though he’s loath to admit, he’s curious himself, as Jacob always struck him as an honest enough man.

So he plops down next to you, reserving his lecture on your late-night escapade for another time. You unfurl yourself from your blanket-cocoon, wrap the blanket around you both, and snuggle up against him, thankful for the added warmth on this chilly winter morning.

You watch two and a half more episodes together, in which the Jacob storyline wraps up neatly with a bow on top - he was majorly guilty, of course. Zayne turns the TV off when all is said and done, and you sit in silence, processing the somewhat unsatisfying end to the plotline.

“Don’t you think he got off too easy?” you look up with half-lidded eyes and ask Zayne with genuine curiosity. At this point, the show has become entirely too real in your sleepy mind, and you seem to suddenly have a big problems with the gaps in realism. “His wife immediately went to ‘let’s try couples therapy’ and not ‘you’re an asshole and I’m divorcing you.’ She even put some of the blame on herself!”

Zayne can’t help but smile at how serious yet unserious you look right now - it’s frankly adorable.

“Well, Jacob seems to have something called plot armor, so that helped to lessen his sentence.”

You chortle at the clever wordplay, lightly tapping your husband on the chest. Lazily reaching over to pick up your phone, you check the time and let out a groan.

“Oh no. It’s almost six.”

“It sure is,” Zayne replies with a resigned smile.

“And now I’ve kept you up too,” you whine. “Ugh, I’m sorry. We should go get ready.”

But just as you’re about to drag yourself away from him, Zayne pulls you back into his chest.

“Call in.” It’s more of a gentle command than a suggestion.

You contemplate his words for a while, and he hopes that the warm comfort he feels right now, your body against snugly glued to his, will entice you to stay right where you are as much as it’s enticing him.

“I do have a lot of sick days saved up…” you ponder out loud. “Okay, fine, but under one condition.”

Zayne tilts his head at you inquisitively. Conditional capitulation being one of your specialties, he presumes you’re going to drag him through another one of these dramas that you enjoy so much, and that he’s grown to enjoy as well since meeting you (though he would never admit it).

“You call in too,” you say with a mischievous smile. “I stole two whole hours of your beauty sleep, and a certain someone once told me that any less than 8 hours is unhealthy. So let’s just stay right here and nap all day.”

Zayne leans over and plants a gentle kiss on your lips. You have a knack for saying exactly what he wants to hear — yet another one of your specialties.

“Deal.”

Even when you’re on vacation, hundreds of miles away from any and all possible responsibilities, Zayne doesn’t seem to have an off button. He’s up at seven thirty in the morning, and despite your countless nagging about how that’s too early, he’ll insist that it’s far later than his usual, and that it’s perfectly reasonable.

He’s seemingly impervious to jet lag - he’ll tell you all about how good sleep hygiene and optimal nap times contribute to mitigate its effects, though you’re convinced your husband must have some kind of genetic or occupational advantage over you.

Your mornings together begin almost two generous hours after he’s begun his own routine. His 6AM runs are replaced with what he calls a leisurely maintenance routine at the hotel gym. Then, he comes back upstairs to quietly shower off while you’re still dozing, but not before scouting the hotel buffet. This is a very crucial part of his plan for the two of you.

Zayne is thoughtful enough to let you sleep in on vacation, completing the rest of his morning routine as silently as possible, knowing how much you both need the time off. However, once his shower is completed, your time is up. By 9AM, the curtains are flying open, room service is already on the way with coffee, and he’s crawling into the bed you’ve now appropriated as your own, gently but firmly coaxing you awake as you try to cover your eyes in vain. You settle for gluing yourself to his body and using him as a makeshift shield against the bright sun filtering through the window.

“Mmh… ‘s too early,” you mumble into his chest. He smells of hotel soap, and hotel soap has never smelled so good.

“It’s nine in the morning, dear. You’ll stay jet lagged the whole time if we don’t fix that schedule of yours.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah - you’ve heard it all before. But staying right there, on soft plush covers, cuddling with your husband in the morning sun sounds like an awfully good deal in exchange for a little bit of jet lag.

“And the buffet closes at 10:30.”

He never tires of the way your entire body perks up at the magic word. You look up at him, blinking remnants of sleep away, and repeat his words, as if they’re too good to be true.

“Buffet?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the pastry situation?”

Your suddenly stern face and steadfast determination sends a low rumble of laughter through his chest.

“Full spread. Salty and savoury. Heated on demand.”

You gulp.

“And eggs?”

“However you want them. Unlimited toppings and fillings.”

You practically shove him off and commando-roll out of the queen bed, scurrying around the room to start getting ready. Normally your not-so-gracious dismount from your impromptu cuddle session would’ve earned you a cheeky comment, but as he watches you discard your robe on the bathroom floor, then saunter over to your open luggage to find your “buffet-primed clothes”, as you like to call them, your bare curves basking in the sunlight, he finds that he doesn’t mind your enthusiasm at all.

Thank you for reading! I’ve been thinking about domestic Zayne nonstop so of course I had to write about it. He’s so husband-material coded it’s not even funny. I might write something like this again in the future if I think of more scenarios! 💜

[imaginedisish]

My Love All Mine (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Not a request. Just a VERY slutty thot I had last night. Inspired by "My Love All Mine" by Mitski. Genuinely, this is one of the filthiest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan told you to stay in his bed so he could have you when he got home from a mission, but he finds you in the kitchen instead...and he isn’t happy.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit sexual content! MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Porn without plot (literally), multiple orgasms, (uh...they're in the kitchen? kitchen warning?), overstimulation, softdom!Logan, established relationship, f!reader/afab!reader, Logan is one starving and reckless man, disrespecting Scott, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 2,288 told y'all there's no plot

It’s late—the moon high in the sky. But you can’t sleep—not without Logan next to you. You know he’ll be back soon—he was only sent on a quick diplomatic day mission with Hank. Charles said Logan needed to control his anger, to learn from the best, and he was right. The trip would certainly do him some good. But it was still brutal, waiting in bed for him, alone. 

You had thrown one of his shirts on a few minutes ago, refusing to wear anything of your own save for your panties. You wanted to smell him—to find a way to keep him close even while he’s gone. And sure enough, the shirt was all tobacco and pine and musk and Logan. 

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need him. 

Too bad you’ll have to wait. He asked you to stay in his bed. Wanna fuck you right when I get home, pretty girl. You were happy to oblige earlier, but it’s getting late, and you’re getting bored—impatient. You swing your legs around the side of Logan’s bed and stand, heading out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

A snack could help. A snack could distract you.

The kitchen is dark, and everyone is fast asleep. You rummage through the cabinets, hoping no one can hear you. You find a package of store-bought cookies with a sticky note that has Scott’s name written on it. After considering—albeit very briefly—you tear Scott’s little note off and toss it to the side. You rip open the package. He won’t care if you have a cookie. It’s just one, after all. You grab one, bringing it to your lips—

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You jump, dropping the cookie on the counter at the sound of the familiar voice. You look across the dimly lit kitchen to see Logan standing in the doorway. 

“Lo?” You whisper. 

He hums, approaching you slowly, sizing you up. He’s towering over you, caging you in, hands firmly gripping the counter on either side of your waist. “Is this my shirt?” He asks, his hand dropping to brush your thighs, pinching the hem of the tee between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“Didn’t know when you’d get back…” You trail off, heat rising to your chest. You can feel that all too familiar ache building between your thighs. “M-missed you.” Logan smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. “Missed you too, pretty girl.” He hikes the shirt up and around your waist, revealing your panties. “No shorts, huh?” 

“N-no,” you pant, suddenly nervous. “Lo, someone might see, someone could—"

“Let them,” he husks, pressing his chest to yours. “No bra either, hm?” He lets the shirt fall as his fingertips slip underneath and trail up to your breasts. He squeezes your tits, messaging them gently, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples. 

“Logan,” you whine, struggling to suppress your moans. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Let them know whose girl you are.” That heat between your legs is burning now, flames lighting your every nerve ending on fire. 

“Yours,” you whisper. Logan pinches your nipples, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. 

He hums. “All fucking mine.” And then he’s grabbing your ass and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as your bare thighs meet the cold granite countertop. Logan bites your lower lip teasingly, his kisses becoming rushed and frantic. He squeezes your tits once more before he slides down your body to the floor below. 

He settles between your legs, one hand on your hip while the other teases your all too-clothed cunt. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, this thumb brushing over your folds. “Fucking soaked, princess,” he grunts, pleased. “All this for me?

“Y-yes,” you choke. “All for you.”

He chuckles against you, his laughter vibrating through your core. “Could smell you when I walked in. Can’t wait to taste you.” You shudder at his words, at the way they make you feel—your heart fluttering in your chest, ready to burst. 

Logan hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and yanks them down, throwing them to the side. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands. “Logan,” you whisper. “What if someone sees?”

He answers with a long stripe through your folds up to your clit. “I said I was gonna fuck you when I got home,” he mumbles against you, licking another long stripe. “And you weren’t in my bed, so this’ll have to do.”

His lips wrap around your clit, pulling the bud into his mouth and sucking roughly. You squirm, involuntarily moving your hips away from Logan at the sudden pleasure. Logan smiles against you, wrapping a hand around your back to hold you in place, to give himself more leverage to bury his face deep into your cunt.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you, pretty girl,” he growls. His tongue swirls around your clit as his free hand teasingly climbs up your inner thigh. His fingers find your folds, stroking gently, spreading your slick. And then two of his fingers are sinking inside you, deep, down to the knuckles. 

Your walls flutter around him. Logan slides out and pushes back in deeper, lapping hungrily at your clit. “Tastes so fucking good, princess,” he praises. “Pretty little pussy, so tight.”

You curse under your breath as his thrusts pick up, fingers slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. “Lo,” you pant, needy and helpless. 

His teeth graze your clit, and you moan, louder than before. You bite your lip, doing your all to hold yourself back. “That feel good, sweetheart?” He does it again, grazing harder this time, taking the bud into his mouth and biting softly. You try to stifle your moan, but it chokes its way out. 

“No holding back,” he chides, sucking your clit in between sentences. “Let them know who’s making you feel this good. Want everyone to know who you belong to.”

“Logan,” you hum, his fingers dragging against your walls, scissoring inside you. You’re already so close, clenching and contracting around him. “I-I…” but you can’t get the sentence out, can’t even make a coherent thought. 

“Use your words, pretty girl,” Logan demands, relentlessly lapping at your clit, pumping in and out fast and hard. “What do you need?” 

“Y-you…” you murmur. “I’m s-so close,” you finally spit out.

Logan tugs you closer, forcing himself deeper as he draws soft circles into your back. “Gonna get you there, princess,” he husks, his tongue flicking your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck, Logan,” you stutter. He’s plunging deeper still, slipping in a third finger. And that’s when you feel it. The tension snaps. Heat rolls through you, spilling out of you. He’s still sucking on your clit, savoring the taste of you as you let go for him. 

You’re a trembling mess, thighs shaking as you ride out your orgasm. “That’s it, I’ve got you,” he soothes in between laps. His pumps slow as you come down from your high. His thumb strokes your back comfortingly. He pulls his fingers from you, but his face is still buried inside your cunt, his tongue lapping ravenously. 

He’s a man starved, showing no signs of stopping. You reach out, running your hands through his hair, dragging your nails across his scalp. He grunts against you, the bass of his voice going straight to your core. “Logan,” you whisper. His teeth nip at your clit, and you jolt, still overstimulated from your first orgasm. But he isn’t taking the hint. “Logan,” you call again. He still doesn’t move. 

“I said you weren’t going anywhere,” he pauses, licking a long, slow stripe through your folds, looking up at you under lust-filled eyes. “Until I’m finished.” His fingers are prodding at your entrance again. “And darlin’,” he grunts, sliding three fingers back inside. “I’m not finished yet.”

He’s pumping with more vigor now, more force. It’s already too much; already more than you can take. His tongue circles your clit, the pressure rocking you to your core. You’re a whimpering mess as he thrusts into you, moaning his name, praying to him like he’s a god. 

“Lo,” you mumble. “I’m a-already…” You throw your head back, fucked out beyond belief. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he coos between flits, his fingers slamming into you. “You gonna give me another one? You gonna let me taste your come again?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking roughly. 

“Good girl,” he mutters against you, your walls contracting around him at his praise. He can feel you squeezing him; he knows full well what he’s doing to you, and just how close you are. He smirks against your cunt. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

And with one more thrust, you’re coming undone around him. It’s more forceful this time, sudden and uncontrolled. You know Logan likes you like this, quivering underneath him; because of him. 

He’s slowing down again, his fingers setting a lazy, dragging pace until they stall inside you. Your eyes flutter shut as he slides out. His tongue laps once more before he pulls away from you. 

You open your eyes, leaning back on your forearms, watching as Logan stands. He brings his fingers to his open mouth and stuffs them inside, sucking, savoring the taste of you, and then pulling them out with a pop. Your walls flutter around nothing at the sight.

“You taste so fucking good, pretty girl,” he huffs. He grabs your hips, yanking them just over the counter. He steps in between your legs, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the kitchen floor. He’s unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper, shoving the denim down his legs along with his boxers.

You sit up, reaching out towards him, but Logan pushes you down against the counter. He pins your hands above your head with one hand, while his other guides his cock to your entrance. “You gonna let me fuck you into this counter, sweetheart?” He hovers over you, his eyes tracking your every move.

“Y-yes,” you whine. “N-need you, Lo.” 

And then he’s slamming into you, down to the hilt. He’s filling you up and splitting you open with a single thrust. You’ll never get used to just how big he is, no matter how many times he fucks you. 

“Fuck,” he growls, swallowing your moans with a kiss. “Feels so good, so tight, pretty girl.” He pulls out and plunges back in, deeper this time. “Thought about you all day, beautiful.”

“Th-thought about you too, Lo,” you whine as he builds his pace. His hand leaves his cock and finds your clit, stroking the bud gently with his thumb. You arch your back at the touch, your chest pressing against his. 

“Needed this fucking pussy,” he grunts, his hips snapping into yours. “Need you. Always need you.” His words alone could send you over the edge. His thumb circles around your core, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. 

He’s hovering over you, still pinning your wrists down to the counter, offering him stability and balance. He pounds into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. You know you can’t last much longer, not with Logan’s lips at your ear, whispering sweet praises. So fucking good. Feels perfect, always so perfect. He’s right. He fits inside you like you were made for each other, like it was always meant to be this way. 

Your walls squeeze him tightly, threatening to let go, to come crashing down around him. He ruts into you, hips rocking against yours. He adds more pressure to your clit, his thumb stroking faster, harder. “Lo,” you call out. “C-close again,” you stammer. 

“Can feel you, beautiful,” he coos. “Gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” You can feel his pace faltering, growing sloppier. He’s close, too—not far behind. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl. Know you can do it.”

“F-fuck,” you stammer as he flicks your clit, circling roughly. He’s throbbing as he slams into you, hit after hit. “Logan,” you whine. “I’m gonna—” 

It happens all at once. You’re crashing, pleasure raging through your body. It tears through you, burning, spreading. Logan is right behind, filling you up, coming deep inside as you clench down around him. He releases your hands from his pin and shifts so that he’s pulling you into his chest as you finish. You’re sitting up, slumping against him, still riding out your orgasm. 

He pumps in and out a few more times until he’s still inside you. He strokes your clit gently, soothingly, letting you down easy from your peak. He pulls out, his arms wrapping around your back and tugging you closer. He holds you tightly, limp in his arms.

You rest your head in the crook of his neck, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple. “Missed you,” he whispers, all soft now. His cocky attitude is gone—his needs satiated. Now he’s all gentle kisses and soothing rubs up and down your back. 

“Missed you more,” you answer, smiling as you look up at him. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t think that’s possible, sweetheart.” His fingers trace shapes into your back. “And princess?” He mumbles. You nod against him. “Don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Never gonna be finished with you.”

tags: @figsnpassionfruits @slaymewithaspoon @hunbomb @lanassmarty @zxaera @silversprings-mp3 @velvrei

[rafecameronssl4t]

Pilates princess || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: you let Rafe come with you and your daughter to his first Pilates session 🙈

Warnings: pure fluff hehehe

Word count: 662

A/n: dad!Rafe melts my heart PLEASE SEND MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTS PLS N TYY

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider @yoonitos

“How come no one’s here?” Rafe asks, locking the car and scanning the empty car park with a puzzled expression. You chuckle, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I always book out the studio so it’s just me and Mabel, and the instructor, of course,” you explain with a shrug.

Rafe nods in understanding, a small smile forming on his lips. At the mention of her name, Mabel babbles in Rafe’s arms, prompting both of you to chuckle. “See, Mabel knows where we are, don’t you, sweetie?” you coo, leaning in to tickle her gently as you approach the door to the Pilates studio.

The door swings open, and Stella beams at you both. “Hi!” she exclaims, her enthusiasm infectious. “Hi, Stella!” you reply warmly. “Hello, Mr. Cameron! Good to finally meet you,” Stella says, extending her hand towards Rafe. “Rafe is fine,” he chuckles, shaking her hand, as you giggle beside him.

“And hello, Mabel,” Stella coos, her eyes lighting up as your daughter grins in recognition. She gestures to Mabel, encouraging her to lean forward so she can carry her. Rafe hesitates, his protective instincts kicking in as he considers handing over his baby girl to someone he just met.

“Babe, it’s fine. Stella’s great with kids and she’ll take care of Mabel while we do our session,” you assure him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. He glances at you, then back at Stella, his concern slowly easing. “Sorry,” he says awkwardly as he carefully passes Mabel to Stella.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” Stella waves off his apology, lightly bouncing Mabel in her arms, making her giggle. “Shall we get started?” she suggests, her tone cheerful and inviting. You nod, taking Rafe’s hand and leading him to the reformer machines.

Around 15 minutes in, Rafe was already feeling the burn. He glanced over at you, noting your perfect posture as you effortlessly executed the moves. Meanwhile, he was struggling to keep up. “Rafe, try to hold that leg straight,” Stella gently corrected his posture, her tone encouraging yet firm, Mabel still in her arms as she watches her dad.

He groaned, adjusting his position as instructed. You turned your head slightly, giggling to yourself. “How do you do this shit every day?” Rafe shook his head in disbelief, his leg trembling with effort. “It takes practice,” you replied with a smile. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Rafe attempted to mimic your form, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite the difficulty, he couldn’t help but admire how graceful and strong you looked. “Remember to breathe,” Stella reminded him. “Inhale as you extend, exhale as you contract. Let’s do 5 more.”

Rafe tried to follow her instructions, but the movements felt anything but natural. “I don’t know how you make it look so easy,” he admitted, glancing at you. You flashed him an encouraging smile. “Just keep at it. You’ll be a pro in no time.”

About ten minutes later, Rafe decided he needed a “break.” He sat on the machine beside you, Mabel perched in his lap. The two of them watched and encouraged you as you continued your session. “Look at mommy go,” Rafe said, bouncing his leg gently. Mabel’s tiny hands were wrapped around his thumb as she gazed at you with wide eyes.

“Seriously, babe, how are you moving your body like that?” Rafe’s lips parted in awe as he watched you steadily execute a challenging move. “Like what?” you asked innocently, glancing back at them with a playful smile.

“I dunno know, you’re just so good at this. You’re not even sweating!” he marveled, lightly shaking his head at your impressive flexibility. You laughed softly, enjoying his reaction. “I think you forget I’ve been doing this since our days at kook academy,” you replied, effortlessly transitioning into the next move. “So like, 4 years ago?.”

Rafe watched you with a mix of admiration and disbelief, bouncing Mabel gently on his knee. “I don’t know, babe. You make it look so easy,” he chuckled, as Mabel’s tiny hands reached up to touch his face. You glanced over with a smile. “I’m almost done, baby,” you said gently to Mabel, who responded by clapping her hands, making everyone chuckle.

“Rafe, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Stella asks playfully as you all gather your things, preparing to leave the studio. Rafe’s face contorts into one of awkwardness. “Uhh, I think I’ll stick to the gym,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

You laugh, giving him a playful nudge. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad! You did great for your first time.” Rafe grins, shaking his head. “I’ll leave the Pilates to you and Mabel,” he adjusts Mabel in his arms before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

[likeumeanit9497]

wanna see? | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

summary: during a night of heavy drinking, y/n tells chris that her roommate, who had slept with him weeks prior, had been less than impressed by his skills in the bedroom. chris asks if y/n believes her roommate, and when she says she does, he decides to prove her wrong.

warnings: SMUTTTTT; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); p in v; DIRTY TALK; unprotected sex; drinking; spanking; ROUGH; 18+

notes: not to gas myself up but...this smut...is insane. i literally wrote all of this in like three hours idk what happened i think my body was taken over by my hormone monster or some shit. but anyways i hope u chris girlies enjoy <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Y/n! Our Uber is two minutes away, are you ready?” My roommate Bree called from the other side of my bedroom door just as I finished applying my lip gloss. “Yep! I’ll be out in a second.” I replied, taking one final look at myself in the full length mirror and adjusting my pleated mini skirt. Satisfied with my appearance, I finally exited my room and found Bree struggling to tie her corset top up herself. “Oh god, let me help.” I sighed, grabbing her shoulders to turn her around so that I could lace her up. “Thanks babe. Oh my god, you look unreal!” She exclaimed, facing me once I was finished, and I smiled sheepishly. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I looked down at my tiny skirt, low cut top, and chunky boots self consciously. “Absolutely fucking not. As a matter of fact I think you should wear that outfit every day for the rest of your life.” She replied before poking my cleavage playfully. I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh shut up, let’s go.” I shoved her shoulder jokingly and we both headed for the front door of our apartment.

“So,” I began once we got on the elevator, “Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” Bree’s fingers were flying across the keyboard on her phone, frantically texting someone. “Um…the usual group I think, probably gonna be a few other random people we don’t know yet, but Nick told me they’re keeping it pretty small this year.” She replied as we got into our Uber and I nodded in acknowledgment.

We were heading to the triplets’ house to celebrate their 21st birthday. Bree and I had met Nick Matt and Chris about a year ago, and the five of us had grown extremely close since then. It was a short drive from our place to theirs, but still I pulled out two mini bottles of tequila and handed one to Bree. She raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “We didn’t have time for a pre game.” I said simply before raising my bottle to cheers her. She laughed before doing the same, and we both took our shot. “Fucking ew,” She said, shuddering, “I hate tequila.” It was my turn to laugh. “The first shot is always the worst, remember?” She nodded hesitantly. “True enough.”

“So…you think things are gonna be weird with you and Chris? This is the first time you’ve seen him since-” Bree cut me off by waving her hand nonchalantly. “Nah, it’ll be fine. For him it meant nothing, and you already know what it was for me.” I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.

A few weeks ago, I was awoken from my sleep at 3 a.m. by Bree barging into my room to tell me that she had just slept with Chris. This news shocked me, since I knew that she had been pining after Matt since we first met them. When I asked her to explain how the fuck that happened, her only explanation was that she was drunk enough to pretend that Chris was Matt. Initially, I had been concerned that their intimacy would make things weird in our group, but both of them seemed to be completely unbothered by it.

“Alright well, let’s just enjoy the night.” I said as our Uber pulled up to the house. “And who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky with the right triplet tonight.” I joked before walking up to the front door, side by side with Bree. She sighed. “Probably not. Pretty sure all hope of that disappeared once I opened my legs for his brother.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I realized that I was drunk. Bree and I had arrived at the house about an hour ago, and we both immediately took three tequila shots back to back in honour of the triplets’ birthday. Thirty minutes later, we took another trio of shots, and that was more than enough to get me absolutely wasted. I haphazardly reapplied my lipgloss before exiting the washroom and heading back over to the kitchen to grab something else to drink.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Shouted Nick over the loud music before rushing from the cluster of people he was with and grabbing the bottle of tequila from my hand. “Pretty sure you don’t need any more of that right now. How about some water?” He phrased it like a question, but didn’t wait for me to respond before grabbing a solo cup and filling it with water. I made a weak attempt at protesting, but deep down I knew that he was right; I was so far gone and the night was still young. “Thanks Nicky.” I said once he brought me the cup of water, and he rolled his eyes. “Ew. Don’t call me that. Now come over here and hang out with us.” He led me to the kitchen table, where him, Chris, Matt, Nate, and a few of their other friends were chatting.

“Hey Y/n, you want a shot?” Nate asked, a bottle of vodka gleaming in his hand. Just as I was about to respond, Nick cut me off with an aggressive “No!”, causing me to pout. “Oh yeah, you’re wasted kid.” Chris said with a shot glass in his hand. I looked at him for a moment, taking in his disheveled appearance and blood shot eyes. “Yeah well so are you.” I retorted weakly, and he chuckled. “It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He said before immediately lifting his glass to cheers with the rest of the group.

I stood there sipping my water slowly as they all took their shots, my eyes focused on Chris’ sharp jaw as he grimaced from the taste of the alcohol. I continued to watch his mouth as he spoke to the person to his right, caught in a drunk trance and intrigued by the rosy colour of his lips.

If I was being honest, I had felt a certain attraction towards Chris since I met him. It wasn’t exactly a crush, and I certainly didn’t have any sort of serious feelings for him, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t ever been tempted to go there with him before. There was a time, early on in our friendship, where we almost crossed that line.

I had been helping him hang posters on the wall above his bed, when he suddenly tackled me onto the mattress. It started off playful, but after a few moments of us play fighting, he ended up on top of me and the mood in the room completely changed. The smiles on our faces disappeared, and I felt my heart begin to race as his lips moved closer and closer to mine. Just as our lips brushed, the sound of Matt’s footsteps coming down the basement stairs caused us to jump apart, and we never spoke of that moment again.

Outside of that time, him and I had only ever acted as very good friends. As a matter of fact, out of all of the triplets I definitely got along with Chris the best. We both had similar personalities, and could joke around without worrying about hurting each other’s feelings.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Nick’s voice to my left. “Y/n, did I tell you how unbelievably hot you look tonight?” I giggled, noticing that his voice was beginning to sound slurred even to me, so he was clearly drunk. “You did, but thank you Nick.” I replied, smoothing down my skirt and batting my eyelashes jokingly in his direction. I thoughtlessly glanced at Chris, and found his glossy eyes trailing slowly down my figure; clearly admiring my outfit.

“Hey Y/n, have you seen Bree?” Asked Nate, and I looked around the room quickly, realizing that I hadn’t seen her since I used the washroom. “I saw her go outside a little while ago, probably went to smoke.” Replied Matt, and I smiled to myself knowing that Bree will love the fact that he has been secretly keeping tabs on her whereabouts. “Speaking of Bree,” Chris started, turning back to look at me, “Did she tell you about what happened two weeks ago?”

The group grew silent for a moment as they waited for me to respond. I took a sip from my water and nodded. “She sure did.” Chris smirked. “I’m surprised she even had to tell you. You must have been out cold if you slept through all that noise she was making.” The entire group groaned, clearly disturbed by Chris’ lack of filter. “Oh my god! Goodbye.” Nick threw his hands in the air before storming off to join Madi on the couch in the living room.

I scoffed, grabbing the bottle of vodka from Nate and taking a swig. “Bullshit.” I replied simply, wincing from the burn as the vodka travelled to my stomach. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?” Even in my drunken state I was very aware of the amount of eyes on me awaiting a response. “Well, I asked her to rate the sex on a scale from one to ten. She said six.” The group broke into laughter, and Chris’ jaw clenched as he smirked. “Hmm, funny.” He replied.

“You asked for the wrong number,” Said Nate through his laughter, “You should have asked her for the inches.” Chris grabbed the bottle of vodka from me before bringing it to his lips. “Oh I did,” I smiled, leaning towards Chris’ ear before continuing in a whisper so that only he could hear, “I believe her exact words were, ‘nothing special’.” Chris smirked, swiping his tongue across his front teeth. “Oh really? And you believe that?” He responded, and I nodded, crossing my arms across my chest. “I have no reason to not believe her.” We stood there for a moment, both of us just staring at the other tauntingly as the rest of the group just watched in silence, clearly feeling left out of the conversation all of a sudden. Finally, after letting his eyes travel down my body slowly again, Chris spoke.

“You wanna see for yourself?”

It took every fibre of my being to keep my jaw from physically dropping at his words. “Uh, what the fuck are we talking about here?” Nate said, his voice tentative. I kept my gaze on Chris, hoping that my eyes weren’t giving away how shocked I was. I watched him watch me; his bright blue eyes drilling into mine, his lips upturned in a confident smirk. Realizing I had been silent for too long, I blinked repeatedly and cleared my throat to regain my nonchalant composure before shrugging. “Sure.” I heard Matt groan beside me as I grabbed the vodka from Chris, taking a sip as I followed him towards the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m gonna be sick.” Matt’s distant voice shouted as Chris and I descended the stairs and walked into his dark bedroom.

Once Chris shut and locked his bedroom door, I felt a pit in my stomach begin to grow. I suddenly broke into a fit of laughter from the ridiculousness of this situation. “What are you laughing at kid?” Asked Chris, beginning to chuckle himself. I took a moment to catch my breath before responding. “You’re not actually gonna let me see your dick, are you?” I clutched my stomach as I tried to control my laughter, and he shrugged. “I will if you want to see it.” I bit my lip in contemplation, trying desperately to think properly through my drunk fog. Failing miserably, I nod my head.

Chris smirked. “Come here then.” I put the bottle of vodka down on his desk and walked over to where he was standing in the middle of his room. I stopped about a foot away from him, but he gently pulled me closer. Looking at my face, he finally pulled me up against him; rubbing an uncertain thumb against the small of my back. “Wait, I’m not hard right now.” He chuckled, seeming to have his own moment of consciousness. I smiled up at him and tilted my head, placing a hand on his stomach. “Well I need to see it in its full glory. How else am I gonna know if you’re telling the truth?” His thumb stopped its movement on my back, and a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes.

“Okay, then make me feel good baby.”

My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his before grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth and pulling slightly; watching as it snapped back into place. My right hand slowly traveled down his stomach towards his waistband, where I let it linger for a moment before moving down to his crotch. There, I had to keep myself from audibly gasping; as even through his pants, his fast growing bulge was in fact huge.

Chris smiled lazily as my hand continued to palm his clothed dick. “Impressed yet?” My eyes snapped to his, and I decided to maintain my unimpressed persona. I hummed, my lips touching his but not quite kissing them. “Is this all you got Chris?” I bit his lip once more just before it turned up in a smirk. “Not quite.”

I gasped in shock as Chris spun me around and slammed me against the door, attacking my lips with his own. His kiss was full of a sort of animalistic hunger, and I was consumed by the taste of peppermint and vodka. He pressed me even harder against the wall as he rolled his hips against me, and I fought the urge to whimper at the feeling of his restrained cock against my needy core. He brought both of his hands up and pulled my low-cut top down to free my tits before grabbing one in each hand. Detaching his lips from mine, he took a moment to look at my chest before attaching his mouth to my left nipple; swirling his tongue around its sensitive nerves before moving onto the right.

Pulling away from my tits and once again coming face-to-face with me, he spoke. “Get on your knees.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and began guiding me down to the ground. Now at the same height as his bulging member, I watched as he wasted no time in removing his jeans. Now only concealed by his thin boxers, the true size of his cock was much easier to see. I stared in silence for a moment, taking in the fact that his boxers just barely covered its entire length. “Now do you believe me?” He asked from above me. I struggled to find my words, but I didn’t want to end this crazy game that we were playing, so I shook my head. “I’ve seen bigger.” I replied, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Chris rolled his eyes before pulling his boxers down to his knees. Now fully exposed, his cock smacked my face as it sprung free from its restraint. I couldn’t help but stare at it in awe — it had to be at least eight inches — as the faint light in the room reflected on its beautiful veins. “Open your mouth.” Chris’ commanding voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked up at him in shock. “What?” He tilted his head, “You said you’ve seen bigger, so you should have no problem swallowing this cock. So open your mouth.” His dirty words went right to my heat, and I felt my panties begin to flood with arousal.

Chris used both hands to collect all of my hair and held it out of my face as I wrapped my lips around the first few inches of his cock. Starting slow, I swirled my tongue around his sensitive tip before bobbing my head; taking a bit more of his length with each pump. I released his cock from my mouth for a second to catch my breath, before quickly leaning back in and deep throating his entire length. I heard a hiss escape his lips as my nose brushed against the sprinkle of hair against his lower stomach, and I began moving my head up and down his entire length; making sure to get every inch of him in my mouth.

“F-fuck, Y/n, that’s good. Keep going.” Chris rasped, and he began thrusting his hips at the same pace I was moving at. I moaned around his cock as his grip on my hair tightened; halting my movements entirely as he began face fucking me. Tears welled in my eyes as his cock repeatedly slammed into my throat, and I watched his face as his jaw went slack in both concentration and arousal.

Suddenly, all his movements stopped and he pulled me up to my feet. With his lips on mine and his hands tightly grasping my ass, he walked me backwards towards his bed. Once my heels reached the edge of the bed, Chris reached under my skirt and slid my panties down my legs. Feeling myself lose all sense of control, I didn’t hesitate when he ordered me to lay on my stomach with my ass in the air. I began trying to remove my skirt, but was stopped short by a sharp slap to my ass. “No, leave it on. You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” My back arched subconsciously from his words, and I began to tremble in anticipation.

I felt the bed shift as Chris climbed on, and I shuddered from the heat of his breath against my core as he spoke. “You want to talk shit about how you don’t think I can make girls scream, then you better stay fucking silent.” He gave me barely any time to register his words before his mouth connected to my core. Working his tongue relentlessly against my clit, I buried my face in his duvet to keep from making any noise. Using both hands to massage my ass as he continued to devour my cunt, he very quickly proved to me that he did in fact know how to eat pussy.

His mouth moved from my clit to my opening, and I couldn’t stop the guttural moan from passing my lips as his tongue began to plunge into me. Immediately, he stopped his movements and slapped my ass hard. “What did I say?” He asked, his gravelly voice filled with a sinister edge. “S-sorry.” I replied, pushing my core back in an attempt at reconnecting with his talented mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He replied before finally re-attaching his mouth to my hole. I bit down on my lip — so hard that it began to bleed — in order to keep myself from making another noise as I felt an orgasm approach. Chris continued using his tongue to fuck me as my legs began to shake and my brain grew fuzzy.

Like a tidal wave, my orgasm overtook my body and I began to convulse uncontrollably. I was somehow able to stifle my sounds of pleasure, even when Chris moaned into my pussy as I felt myself squirt all over his face. Without even giving me a moment to recover, Chris straightened his body up onto his knees, grabbed onto my hips, and plunged every substantial inch of his cock into me. At this, I couldn’t help but scream out in shock, and Chris promptly pulled out of me; leaving my dripping core feeling empty. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Do you want me to stop?” He tapped my pussy with his cock as he waited for me to respond. Scared to say anything, I simply shook my head. “Are you ready to admit that Bree was lying?” I turned my head so that I could see him behind me.

“Size doesn’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use it. So go ahead and prove yourself right.” At my words, Chris shook his head as his lips turned up in a smirk. Immediately, his dick slid back into me slowly, and I felt my hole stretch more and more as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, before pulling his hips back so far that his tip was barely resting inside of me; and then slammed all of himself back into my cervix. He continued at this agonizingly slow and deep pace for a while, and used his words to taunt me the entire time.

“You’re such a good girl, taking all my cock like this.”

“I bet you feel so good right now baby.”

“Oh fuck, keep creaming all over this big dick.”

Suddenly, Chris pulled out of me and flipped me onto my back. Wasting no time, he hooked my legs around his neck and pushed his inches back into me. I stared at him, mouth open, as he watched my pussy swallow his cock with each quick thrust. Using one arm to support his weight, he placed his free hand on my stomach and pressed down. “You feel that?” He began, finding the spot where my stomach was bulging, “Feel how deep in your guts my cock can get?” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I bit on my own arm to stifle the noises that were dying to escape it as I felt my second orgasm approaching.

Chris seemed to notice my impending climax, as he leaned forward to reach even deeper into me. “You want to cum, hmm?” He cooed, bringing a hand to my cheek. With my face contorted in the confusing combination of pleasure and frustration, I nodded my head. He moved my arm away from my mouth and planted a deep kiss there. “You can cum as hard as you want, just as soon as you tell me how good my cock makes you feel.” I whined silently, my overstimulated nerves causing my body to fill with a sudden desperation. “Come on, Y/n,” Chris brought his thumb down between our bodies and began rubbing my clit, “I want you to cum for me.”

I was panting now, feeling as though I might explode from the overwhelming pressure within my body. I was quickly realizing that I was losing this battle, and it was time to throw in the towel.

“Fuck Chris you’re so big.” I nearly screamed out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at keeping my composure. “Feels so good, please let me cum.” I begged, and watched his face as his pupils dilated from my words. “That’s my girl. Now let go.” His hips continued pounding into me as I finally gave into my orgasm, and I lost all control of my mind as I spewed a plethora of moan-filled profanities into the room. My walls contracted uncontrollably around his girth as my orgasm tore through my body, and I felt my nails dig into the skin on his shoulders.

“Oh fuck Y/n, gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” His words came out shaky, and I didn’t hesitate before responding, “In me, please baby.” I begged, wanting to feel his warm seed spill into my worn out core. “Shiiit.” He hissed, his body slowing to a near-halt as he rode out his own orgasm. With slow, lazy thrusts, he pushed his cum deep into me as his cock twitched repeatedly.

Eventually, his movements stopped completely, and he slowly pulled out of me and walked towards his bathroom. When he returned, he came back with a towel and used it to help clean me up in silence while I caught my breath.

“I might be drunk,” He started, “But that was hot as fuck.” I laughed, holding my spinning head before sitting up. “We are never to speak of this again.” I said as I got to my feet to retrieve my underwear. “Sure sure…until the next time we do it right?” I rolled my eyes at his response and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Shut up. I need a shot, let’s go.” I headed for the door once he was fully clothed and together we began to climb the stairs. “How likely is it that everyone up here knows what we did?” I whispered to him as we neared the top. “Oh very likely, but who cares? It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He winked at me as we made it to the kitchen, where everyone’s eyes immediately landed on us.

“Oh god.” I muttered under my breath as I hurried over to Bree, who was smiling knowingly at me as she began pouring out two shots of tequila. “Please tell me one of these are mine.” I whispered to her, and she laughed. “It sure is. You have a good time down there?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she handed me a slice of lime. “If you really meant it when you said his dick was ‘nothing special’, then I’m gonna need the names and numbers of the guys you were ranking him against.” She tilted her head back and exploded into laughter before lifting her shot glass in the air and urging me to do the same. “You got it, babe. Just as soon as I get Matt to fall in love with me.” I laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before raising my own glass. “Cheers!”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[freyito]

ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language. 

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably. 

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about. 

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time. 

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be. 

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning. 

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance’ that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze. 

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child. 

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server (16+) | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[sturnsreckless]

𝐘𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑,, c.sturniolo

summary. . . chris is yapping away with his fingers in your mouth because you kept interrupting him

pairing. . . chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings. . . gagging

a/n. . . this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, i completely forgot about this

“there’s so much shit i need to do for my brand tomorrow, like-“ chris says but being cut off by your voice for the fifth time and he’s only been talking for ten minutes.

“oh my god. i’m so excited for you to release the new items, they’re all so cute.” you gush with excitement as you think about the baby tees and hoodies chris has designed.

“yeah. i think this will be the-“ chris attempts to talk but gets cut off by you, yet again.

“that baby pink baby tee? that looks like heaven. it’s so cute, i can’t wait to-.” you say, but quickly stop as you turn to chris and see the unamused look on his face.

“what’s the problem, baby?” you ask furrowing your brows.

“you. you’re the problem at the moment, actually.” he says with a smirk growing on his face as he trails his hand up your arm, holding his hand in place when it reaches your jaw, “you’ve interrupted me so many times.” he whispers, leaning his face closer to yours as he moves his ring and middle finger up to yours lips.

you and chris kept intense eye contact as he pushes his fingers into your mouth until the lay flat in the middle of your tongue.

his finger’s sit in your mouth for a moment before he pushes them the slightest bit further in. “i swear you never let me talk.” his icy blue eyes stay locked on yours as he moves his fingers just a little more.

when he finally stills his fingers in your mouth, you attempt to talk again, “i do, i let you talk all the time” you try to say but it comes out muffled.

“all the time?” chris repeats back with a scoff, his fingers moving ever so slightly in your mouth, clearly not believing you. he knows you don’t ever let him talk. he just loves any excuse to tease you.

“maybe not all the time, but most of the time” you say but when you do chris plunges his fingers to the back of your throat, causing you to gag on his fingers and tears fill your eyes. and when they do chris pulls his fingers back to sit on your tongue, “now let me talk” he says.

his fingers sit with a little more pressure on your tongue as he waits for you to nod in agreement, watching the tears form in your eyes as you try to recover from the gag. he knows you’ll agree, you always agree.

you slowly nod your head. chris smirks then continues talking, “now you’re finally letting me get a word in. so yeah, the new drop is in about two weeks so i have a bunch of shit i need to sort between now and then.”

his fingers sit still in your mouth as he talks, his other hand that’s around your waist moving up and down your side gently. while his fingers don’t move, they do apply more pressure as he talks, making it harder and harder for you to concentrate on what he’s saying.

chris has yapped and yapped for the past 15 minutes with no interruptions, due to obvious reasons.

you let out a hum as chris brings up something you really want to talk about, but he glares at you and pushes his fingers further down your throat, causing you to gag again.

he smirks as you gag around his fingers again, he’s got such power over you at the moment as he’s in full control. every time you moan, hum, or try to say something, he gags you again. he knows there’s something you want to ask, and he finds this whole situation way too amusing, “there something you want to say, baby?” he taunts with a sly smirk on his face.

he watches intently as you hum and moan around his fingers, his smirk never leaving his face. he loves how powerless you are right now. no matter how hard you try to talk, his fingers will always stop you, and it makes him so amused. he knows that there’s something you want to ask, and he’s fully enjoying taunting you.

“sorry baby, it’s my turn to talk. not yours. but you’ll get your chance later, just not now.” he says in a mocking tone. chris lets out a small chuckle as he watches you struggle. he knows how badly you want to ask him the question, but he’s loving this too much to give you the chance too. “you’re just gonna have to wait a while, baby. i still have more to say. don’t worry.”

he continues rambling on for another ten minutes. this time he only had to gag you twice, unlike last time he had to do it countless times. you really wanted to talk so you brung your hand up to chris’ hand that is in your mouth and attempt to pull it away from your mouth, which chris doesn’t like.

as soon as your hand comes up to his, he pulls it back and pushes his fingers even further in your mouth, his smirk growing as he watches you. he lets out a small huff, “no, princess, don’t try that. this is my turn to talk, not yours. you don’t listen. i have to remind you who’s in charge, don’t i?” he says in a mocking tone.

you look up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to let you talk.

chris looks down at you, seeing your pleading eyes and he feels his heart fluttering. every time you look at him like that, he just wants to give in and do anything for you. but not this time, though. no, no, no. right now he’s enjoying how much control he has, and he isn’t giving that up. “ah, princess, baby. stop looking at me like that. that’s not gonna work this time. i’m in charge right now.”

your body deflates when he says that. you really thought chris was going to let talk this time, but you were wrong.

chris notices your body deflates, seeing you give up. he lets out a soft chuckle; the whole situation was so amusing to him. he’s got you right where he wants you - at his mercy. he loves having power over you like this; it’s such a huge turn on for him. he can’t help but tease you a little bit more. “aww, princess. did you really think i was gonna let you talk? after all the times you’ve cut me off? that’s really cute.”

@sturnsreckless

[nickfowlerrr]

didn’t know if you’d care if i came back

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: sweetness. tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff fluff fluff. grumpy x grumpy sweethearts who haven’t defined the relationship lol. cuddling. blink and you’ll miss it mention of body insecurities. uhhh if i’m missing something that should be tagged pls let me know!

words: 1.7k

notes: idk where this came from but if you’re noticing repeating themes in my writings - no you’re not.

anyway! thank you in advance for reading, i hope you enjoy. as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵

“Get out,” you speak, your ever present annoyance clear in your voice while your stone face is completely unaffected as you type on your phone, not bothering to so much as glance at the door. You’re comfy in your bed while your space heater hums and you keep typing away as you hear the door click shut once again.

Your blanket is pulled and your bed shifts beneath you as you type faster, working to finish your thought before it slips away completely. Still not looking at anything but your screen,

“Get off my bed,” you demand to no avail.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, his own constant annoyance audible as he easily wraps you up in his strong arms. Your soft body presses against his as you maintain focus on your phone, rolling into his hold while maneuvering your device from hitting him. One last sentence and you’re done. You hit save and then let your phone drop after locking it.

“What happened to hello?” he asks harshly as he holds you close.

“You were busy,” you shrug matter of factly, face in his chest as you get comfortable.

“Look at me,” he demands, forcing you to angle your face to meet his eye as you sigh with a roll of your eyes.

“What?” you humph. “I’ve been gone three days, you haven’t even had time to miss me.”

“I don’t care if you’ve only been gone three minutes,” he squeezes your jaw a bit, eliciting a sharp breath from you as your gaze softens up at him. “If you’re not right next to me, doll, I’m missing you.”

The sincerity and warmth in his normally icy blue eyes has your heart melting just a little more. He missed you… he really missed you?

It’s atypical for you, but you don’t have anything to say in refute as you stare back at him - a part of you waiting to see something that will give him away and confirm your suspicions that he’s lying. The other just wanting to commit that look in his eyes and the gorgeous color to memory.

He missed you.

No one’s ever missed you before…not really.

He came to your room of his own free will, just to see you? He’s holding you so close and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so warm or welcome.

Or wanted.

And he’s not even trying to get you out of your clothes. He’s just here. To be here. To see you. Because he missed you.

He missed you.

“And for the record,” he continues speaking, interrupting your thoughts, “I won’t ever be too busy for you.” His eyes soften even more as he notices the growing emotion welling in them as you work to maintain your facade of careless, feel nothing, grump. He knows the feeling. He knows you.

He brushes his lips softly on your forehead and he feels your fingers tighten ever so slightly in his shirt as you let yourself relax a bit more into him, “Not for you,” he mumbles his promise.

You fight a shudder as you blink your eyes, batting your lashes in an attempt to fight the sting of welling tears before they have a chance to fall. Damn this man and his uncanny ability to have your walls crumbling around him within mere minutes.

You’re still not even sure how this all started. It was one night together on a mission.

And then another night together back home.

And then another.

And another.

And then an afternoon together. And then a morning.

And then a full day.

Into the next.

And then it was sharing beds every now and again.

And dinners.

And then more and more frequent sleepovers. And now it’s? You aren’t sure.

It went from just desperate late night sex to…to whatever this is.

But, whatever it is, you think it might be for the better. Bucky helps you feel…better.

Safe.

Cared for.

Loved.

You push that thought away. That’s just…too much.

Isn’t it?

You cuddle into him despite yourself, nuzzling into his chest for comfort.

“Sorry.”

It’s nearly a whisper, but he hears you. His big hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back as he keeps you to him.

“I wan-,” you bite your tongue, swallowing the lump growing in your throat.

I wanted to, you were going to say, to see you first. Just didn’t want to bug you.

You hear his response in your mind as you thoughtlessly press your lips. ‘You’re not a bug. You’re not a burden.’ You know what he’ll say, and you want to believe him. But you don’t think you can hear him say it right now without the damn breaking.

You try to clear your throat as you let your hands wander him and speak a little louder now,

“I missed you.”

He’s smiling softly, not that you can see it, as he grabs your hand gently caressing his side and brings it to his lips. Your gaze follows the movement curiously before you watch him kiss your hand. Your stomach flutters at the small act of affection.

Bucky tugs you closer and you lift your leg to hook over his, just wanting to be closer, to feel him more.

“And how dare you try to kick me out of my own room,” he scolds.

You laugh, real and true as you shove him a bit. “This is not your room,” you deny.

His toothy grin is infectious as he eyes you. “Oh yeah?” he says, reaching behind you to grab something, “then what’s my pillow doing in here?”

You freeze for half a second, he notices but doesn’t mention it, as your eyes widen ever so slightly. No, you think, you definitely put that back before you left.

You quirk a brow as you turn to see his pillow in his hand before he drops it back on the bed. You know you put his pillow back, and wait…that wasn’t even the pillow you had.

Why would his pillow be in here, unless…

“You slept in here?” you ask, your voice much softer than you intended as you look in his eyes.

His smirk has lightened drastically, but still gently tugs on the corner of his lips as he tries to read your thoughts. He nods a little, breaking eye contact for a quick moment as he wets his lips out of habit,

“I missed you.”

Your own lips quirk at the corner as you feel your heart swell.

“And you were due back here at four this morning,” he adds.

He was waiting for you.

You knew someone at the tower was monitoring the flight itinerary but you’d assumed it was Stark or Fury. Now you know it was him. And your heart somehow feels like it’s gonna burst out of your chest as your tummy tingles with something you don’t think you can actually name.

But it’s good.

Better than good.

Oh god.

Maybe it is love…

He turns to lay on his back and takes you with him as he does.

You groan a bit and try to shuffle off him, not wanting to crush him despite his super soldier status. He doesn’t let you, not that you’re surprised. He keeps his hands on you, one on your bent thigh and the other around your back, resting protectively on the curve of your waist meeting your hip.

He loves the feeling of your body on his, revels in your weight resting on top of him - in every circumstance. Your curves, your softness, your warmth.

You.

“Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles, letting his eyes close as he relaxes into the mattress. You sigh, staring at his contented face while his hands gently squeeze you comfortingly.

You watch him for a while, enraptured by his peaceful rest until you really feel his breaths even out. He’s sleeping like a baby as you lay on top of him and you can’t help your disbelieving titter. How this is comfortable for him, you’ll never know.

You let a hand touch his cheek gently, your fingers brushing his five o’clock shadow. You angle yourself to put a delicate kiss on his stubbly jaw. You don’t notice his nose twitch a bit or the tiniest furrow of his brow as you pull away.

Your fingers card through his hair as you admire him. You take a deep breath. If you can feel it, you can say it…

Another stuttered breath. “I,” you start, “I love you,” you murmur softly, sure he can’t hear you. You lean just a touch closer, lips just brushing his cheek. “I really love you.”

You feel a little proud of yourself as you pull away. You said it. You don’t know the last time you told someone you loved them. Can’t remember the last time you really felt it, or felt safe enough to say it. Sure, he’s sleeping, but still. You said it. And if you said it now, you know you can say it again. One day. When he’s awake. When you’re ready. You smile to yourself before you let your head rest on his chest, content now to sleep for a bit too in the comfort of his presence.

Bucky’s heart is beating so damn loudly he’s a little terrified you’ll hear it as you make yourself more comfortable atop him. He wants to squeeze you and tell you how much he loves you too, to kiss you til you’re dizzy and make sure you really understand just how deeply in love with you he is.

But he knows he wasn’t really meant to hear that just now. And despite that, he’s really glad that he did.

Because you love him.

You really love him.

He knows this is new to you, and you’re still trying to get used to it, to figure it all out, despite the fact that there’s no mystery here for you to solve. But he doesn’t mind moving at whatever pace you want or need. After so long, he never thought he’d find this. Never thought he’d feel this again.

And then came you.

You’re his perfect match. And his best friend.

And you love him.

Bucky’s never really felt lucky in his life. But here and now, with you starting to mumble softly as you lay on his chest, trusting him, loving him, well he’d consider himself the luckiest man in the world.