#love god with all of your heart mind and soul
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Hey! My first time sending a req thing so forgive me if I’ve done this wrong..
However, I’ve grown obsessed with your writing(no, seriously it’s so good omggg)and was wondering if you’d write overstimulated reader x Hannibal?
Hannibal is just so cruel and mean, pounding into you as you’re about to start sobbing..he’s got you in some sort of headlock, grunting in your ear..your begging him to slow down just for a minute and he’s just shushing you and speaking softly into your ear OH MY GOODDD LORDDD
Or he’s holding you close as you whine and shake, his forehead on yours as he tells you “so noisy- shh- my love” 😵💫😵💫
I’d love to see you write this!! No worries if not!! Love your writing ❤️
urges.
Hannibal had urges. Strong ones. Impulses, even. But that didn't mean he couldn't control them. He always did. For the sake of you.
You were too sweet. Too delicate for his hungry soul. But also too lovely to resist. Your taste, feel, sounds were all he could want, need. It was a craving. Much worse if he went into specifications.
So, it was a surprise when you told him you could feel he was holding back. You were satisfied, of course you were. He made you satisfied. But you could see beneath the mask. Something he often forgets.
He knew you weren't prepared for his urges. But how could he refuse you, his delicate dove, who was agreeing to give into his indulgence?
Perhaps, it was too soon that you asked for it. Because you certainly could not keep up with it.
His hand held onto your shoulder. The other held your hips. the skin denting from applied pressure from his fingers. Already red, perhaps black and blue the next morning.
The sound of skin against skin echoed the walls. Your body jerking forward with every slap of his hips against yours. The room also filled with your cries.
Hands pushing on his thighs, pushing him away. This annoyed Hannibal. His hands left your shoulders and cupped your jaw. Pulling you up, to his chest. Your head against his shoulder as he looked.
He could cum just at the sight of you. Tears running down. Lips bruised from the pressured kisses. Some markings already created from where he nipped before. Mine.
"shh— don't resist, love", he whispered against your ear. His words breathy and airy. You could feel the strained breaths against your now sensitive skin. A shiver running down her whole body. The sheen layer of sweat doing nothing to subside it.
"you wanted this, Didn't you?", he continued. His hips still moving. You could feel the tip dragging across your already bruised inner walls. Your whines get louder.
God, he would have enjoyed those little whimpers from you, any other time. But now, he needed to focus in the feel of you.
His hand slipped from your jaw to over your mouth. Trapping the noises against the barrier of his palm. "You look so beautiful, darling. So. . Pretty", he whispered against your neck.
Pressing kisses until he reached your ear again. "All mine to play with, right? All mine" he groaned. His hand splayed across your stomach as the rock of his hips got harder but slower.
Making you scream into his hand everytime he pushed into you after pulling all the way out. Hannibal leaned back slightly to look down, seeing his cock slip in and out so slowly. Like a sensual dance. Glistening against the low light like the pearls under the night sky.
He wanted to consume you. Ingest you so you'd be a part of him forever. Live in his skin, flesh, mind, heart. Wherever you could reach, he would be yours.
The thoughts ran across his mind. He could feel your tears against his hand. Oh, how he loved to see you broken down. Perhaps, he could never go back from this now.
He needed you like this. So pilant. Like a soft pillow against his sharpened edges. Taking him in with warmth.
Hannibal could feel himself near. His forehead resting against your shoulder. He could feel you trembling. His lips parted as he let out a sharp breath before painting your inner walls with his seed.
His hand slowly released around your mouth as it rested against your neck. He placed soft kisses on your jaw, "so good for me, dove."
He slowly pulled out as he carefully, with gentle caress laid you down against the sheets. Small whimpers left you. He laid besides you. His forehead against yours as he took another breath to calm himself.
"shh, I'm right here. It's alright. . . Always such a good girl for me" he whispered softly. His lips continued to place soft kisses against your cheek and forehead.
He pulled back as he looked at you. Eyes unfocused, lips parted, sweat looking like silver under the moonlight. His hand carefully brushed some of the damp hair away from your face. He got a taste of his urges and now he can't wait to indulge more.
a/n: I love requests. Keep them coming.
also thank you for liking my writings. I just write to distract or to feel productive. 😭‼️
#jum writes ‹3#❤️ anon#hannibal lecter#nbc hannibal#hannibal lecter fanfiction#hannibal x reader#hannibal#hannibal lecter x you#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal lecter smut#hannibal smut#hannibal nbc#will graham#will graham smut#will graham x reader#will graham fanfiction#will graham imagine#i love him#love yall#live laugh love#muah <3#writing#smut#mads mikkelsen smut
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Hello! I hope you're doing well! I wanted to ask, how would the Wukongs seduce their Monkey Queens? How would they let her know when they're ~in the mood~ 😏
There is always some madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness-unknown
(Lmk Wukong) When Wukong is in the mood he would release deep purrs. You would be minding your business in your shared bedroom when he walks in. Wukong would lock the door, walk in front of the bed, and slowly take off his armor making you blush. Wukong would slowly strip what he's wearing not breaking eye contact with you, and flexing his muscles at you for you to see. The second his underwear becomes the last thing to go, he jumps your bones and making you see hearts.
(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhh boi this when his territorial instincts come to play. When he's particularly jealous he'll get you alone and take a little bite into your shoulder make you moan. Wukong would nibble and mark your neck, shoulder and sometimes your entire arm and it wouldn't hurt but you would feel so good. He would have you panting as he strips you of you clothes and well, let's just say you both had a very wonderful night😉
(HIB Wukong) Your thicc thighs of yours were always his greatest weakness especially if you dared to were a skirt. Everytime he stupidly looks at those sweet sweet birthing hips he ends up imagining how many cubs he can get out of them. Wukong would give you theses predator eyes, looking directly at you, as he bites and licks your thighs never once breaking eye control. With his obsession with you and the look he gives Of course your legs instinctively open.
(NR Wukong) Peach and honey champagne the second he breaks that out, you'll know exactly what he wants from you. Wukong would get a couple of drinks in you, whispering sexy promises and flirting with you in your candle lit bedroom. Once your cute little self is nice and tipsy that's when he strikes, ripping his and yours clothes off and partied all night long🤤
(Netflix Wukong) Ohhhhhhhh myyyyy he would sneak you away to somewhere dark and private. Wukong never felt this way before and didn't know hot to handle it at first, but look at you so attractive, so powerful, soooo perfect. He needed to get some alone time with you or else he'll pop, so with a little bit of flirting he would sneak you off to the bedroom with you and turn off the lights. That's when you get frisky with him, as those red eyes of his stare into your heart and soul.
(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh my God he would be in such a mood after a long battle, especially if it's against you. Like seriously you sparred against him like you were trying to kill him, and it was sooooo sexy to him and wanted all of you now. So he would purr and actively strip his armor saying that it's to help make his mobility better, but you soon realize he had a different way of working off that extra adrenaline🥵
(Destined one) ok now the Destined...................hard to decide really??🤔 though I feel he would get aroused by your innocence and charm. You would trip on the roads sometimes and all the Destined one sees is a nice round ass for him to smash later or when you spilled tea on your dress top and he got to see those perking pairs of huge squash. The last straw being how you could wear the latest lewd costume, but your sweet innocence made it wholesome. All i'm going to say is you're going to be Very dirty all over again when the Destined one is done with you.
FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🥵
#monkey king reborn#monkey king netflix#monkey king x reader#nezha reborn#lmk monkey king#monkey king hero is back#x female y/n#black myth wukong#the destined one x reader#suggestive themes
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The Dragon's Curse
- Summary: He loved you despite knowing he would never have you.
- Pairing: sister!reader/Brynden Rivers
- Note: Keep in mind how some things may have been changed from the canon, and any inconsistencies you notice are on purpose to compliment the narrative of this story.
- Rating: Explicit 18+ (blood, gore, violence)
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround
The chill of the evening air seeped into the stone walls of the Red Keep as you sat by the hearth in your chambers, the flickering flames casting shadows on the silver of your hair. The room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the scratching of a quill as you composed a letter. The soft fur-lined cloak draped over your shoulders framed you like an artist's masterpiece, your features illuminated in the warm glow of the firelight.
Brynden Rivers stood silently in the doorway, his dark, brooding gaze fixed on you. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too engrossed in your writing. His chest tightened as he took you in, your familiar presence stirring emotions he could no longer deny.
“Why must it be you?” The thought gnawed at him relentlessly, the bitter truth of it threatening to unman him. You were his sister by blood, his equal in both fire and ice, but the heart cares little for titles or propriety. The gods, cruel and capricious, had cursed him to love you. And yet, for all his cunning and resolve, Brynden Rivers, the master of shadows, had no strategy for this war within himself.
He stepped into the room at last, his boots soft against the stone floor. You looked up, surprised but not alarmed. A small smile curved your lips, a sight that could bring kingdoms to ruin, though you remained blissfully unaware of the effect it had on him.
“Brynden,” you said warmly, setting your quill aside. “I thought you’d be skulking about the council chambers or locked away in some dark corner of the library.”
“Do I skulk, then?” he replied, his tone light but his eyes betraying the heaviness in his heart. He walked closer, his long white hair trailing behind him like a specter. His eyes— the color of fresh blood—lingered on you as though committing every detail to memory.
You laughed softly, a sound like bells on a crisp morning. “You are the Bloodraven, are you not? Isn’t skulking in your nature?”
He couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips, but it faded as quickly as it came. He stopped before the fire, hands clasped behind his back. “What are you writing?” he asked, more to distract himself than out of curiosity.
“A letter to Daeron,” you replied, gesturing to the parchment. “He frets over my welfare as if I were still a child. I thought I’d ease his mind.”
Brynden nodded, though his jaw tightened at the mention of your elder brother. Of course Daeron would fret over you; who wouldn’t? You were the jewel of the Targaryen line, a creature of beauty and grace wrapped in Valyrian steel. Brynden had seen the way men looked at you—the way Daemon Waters, that charming fool, lingered too long in your company, the way even Baelor Breakspear treated you with a deference bordering on reverence. It filled Brynden with a fury he could barely contain, though he had no right to feel it.
“Daeron is right to worry,” he said, his voice lower now. “The court is full of snakes, and not all wear their venom openly.”
You tilted your head, studying him with those lilac eyes that seemed to pierce through his very soul. “And you, Brynden? Do you worry for me too?”
He froze. The question was innocent enough, but it struck him like a blade. Did he worry for you? Of course he did. He worried for your safety, for your happiness, for the day someone else might take you away from him forever. But his worry wasn’t born of a brother’s duty. It was something far darker, something shameful.
“Always,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your expression softened, and you reached out to touch his hand. The gesture was innocent—sisterly—but it set his skin ablaze. He wanted to pull away, to shield you from the storm raging within him, but he couldn’t move. Your touch was his undoing.
“Brynden,” you said, your voice gentler now. “You’ve been so distant of late. Is something troubling you?”
He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Many things trouble me, sister. That is the curse of a bastard, is it not? To carry burdens that are not entirely yours.”
You frowned, your hand tightening on his. “You are not just a bastard. You are a Targaryen, Brynden. You are my brother. You are…” You trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “You are more than you believe yourself to be.”
He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and felt the last of his resolve crumbling. He wanted to tell you everything—that you were his light in the darkness, his solace in a world of treachery and lies. But he couldn’t. To love you was to curse you, to drag you into the shadows where he dwelled.
Instead, he stepped back, breaking the contact. “You are kind, sister, but you do not know what you say.”
Your brow furrowed, concern etched across your face. “Brynden—”
“Enough,” he said sharply, his voice like a whip. Regret washed over him the moment he saw the hurt in your eyes, but he turned away before he could falter. “It is late. You should rest.”
Without another word, he left the room, his heart a storm of longing and despair. As he walked the shadowed halls of the Red Keep, he knew he would carry this secret to his grave.
For what chance did a creature like him have to love something as pure and untouchable as you? His love was a fire, and you were the dragon; yet even dragons burned when the fire raged too hot.
The raven arrived at dawn, its wings streaked with the ash-gray of storm clouds. Brynden stood at the window of his solar, the letter clutched in his hand, its contents sharp enough to draw blood. The words swam before his eyes, written in a hurried hand that reeked of desperation. His breathing was shallow, his mismatched gaze locked on the jagged lines of the Blackwater Bay beyond.
You were gone. Stolen.
Daemon Blackfyre, legitimized bastard of Aegon IV and the shadow that loomed over Brynden’s existence, had taken you. Not merely taken—you were wed. A quiet ceremony, the raven reported, held under the banners of the pretender's house. Brynden's grip on the letter tightened until the parchment threatened to tear, his mind racing with visions he could not unsee.
“Brynden?” A soft voice called from the doorway, but he did not turn. It was Shiera, her tone cautious, almost hesitant—a rarity for her. She knew, as she always did. Her presence in the room only sharpened the knife twisting in his chest.
“He dared,” Brynden said, his voice low, cold as the Narrow Sea in winter. “That coward dared to lay his hands on her.”
Shiera stepped closer, her crimson gown rustling like whispers in the dark. “It was not unexpected, was it? Daemon has always craved what you value most. This… marriage… is just another way to wound you.”
Her words were oil on the fire raging in his chest. He turned to face her, his face a mask of fury barely contained. “She is not some trinket to be used in his petty games, Shiera. She is…” His voice broke, the words he could never say threatening to spill forth.
Shiera raised a dark brow, her expression unreadable. “She is your sister.”
Brynden flinched as if struck. It was the truth, the one fact that made this torment so unbearable. You were his sister, and that bond should have been enough to temper his feelings. But it wasn’t. It never had been.
“You know it isn’t that simple,” he said bitterly, turning away again.
“No, it never is with you,” Shiera replied, her voice softening. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle but firm. “If you love her, Brynden, then act. Sitting here in the shadows won’t bring her back.”
He shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. “She is beyond my reach now. Daemon will ensure that.”
Shiera’s laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “Beyond your reach? You are Bloodraven, master of whispers and shadows. Daemon may have stolen her, but he hasn’t won. Not yet.”
Brynden didn’t respond, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger, regret, and despair. He could see it now, the image burned into his mind: you, standing beside Daemon, your pale hair entwined with his, your lilac eyes dimmed by the weight of the choice forced upon you. Did you go willingly, he wondered, or did Daemon drag you into this as he had dragged others into his rebellion?
The thought of your smile—so warm, so full of life—now belonging to Daemon Blackfyre was more than he could bear.
“What would you have me do, Shiera?” he asked, his voice raw. “Storm his camp? Kill him in cold blood? What would that make me? A brother who loves his sister too much, or a bastard no better than him?”
Shiera studied him, her gaze piercing as always. “It would make you a man who fights for what he cannot live without. Or,” she added, her voice softening, “it would make you a man who knows when to let go.”
Brynden recoiled at the thought. Let go? Of you? He had tried, gods knew he had tried, but it was as futile as holding back the tide. You were the sun in his shadowed world, the one thing that made his cursed existence bearable. Without you, what was he? A ghost haunting the halls of the Red Keep, a puppet master with no heart to guide his strings.
But he also knew the truth. If he went after you, it wouldn’t be for justice or even love. It would be for vengeance. Vengeance against Daemon, against the cruel twist of fate that made you his sister when his heart screamed for you to be something more.
He turned back to Shiera, his decision made. “Send word to my spies. I want to know where they are, every step they take.”
Shiera’s lips curved into a sly smile. “And when you find them? What then?”
Brynden’s gaze was as cold and unyielding as the shadow of the wall behind him. “Then, I’ll decide what kind of man I am.”
As Shiera left, the room fell silent once more. Brynden moved to the hearth, staring into the flames as if they held the answers he sought. The fire crackled and hissed, its light dancing in his eyes.
“You are mine,” he whispered, the words a vow, a curse, and a plea all at once. “Even if the gods will it otherwise, even if the world turns against me, you are mine.”
And though he knew his love for you was doomed, though he knew it would destroy him in the end, he swore he would not let Daemon Blackfyre win. Not this time. Not with you.
The battlefield was chaos—a sea of blood and fire, steel and screams. Brynden’s cloak billowed behind him as he dismounted his pale mare, his eye scanning the carnage with keen precision. The crimson of Blackfyre clashed with those of the crown, black dragons rippling in the smoky air. Yet amidst the maelstrom, his focus was singular.
You.
You were there, somewhere, caught between two forces too cruel for love to soften. You had been dragged into this war, a pawn in Daemon’s rebellion, and Brynden had sworn to get you out. He had promised himself—promised you—that he would not let fate take you.
But fate, it seemed, was indifferent to his promises.
His spies had found you at last—at the edge of the battlefield, atop a ridge overlooking the slaughter. Daemon’s men surrounded you, and though you bore no blade, Brynden could see the steel in your eyes even from afar. You were always brave, always defiant, even now when the world seemed poised to crumble around you.
He spurred his mare forward, cutting through the fray with lethal precision. His sword was an extension of his will, cutting down any who dared to stand in his path. Blood splattered across his pale skin, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but reaching you.
As he neared, he saw Daemon dismount, his black armor glinting in the fading sunlight. The pretender’s greatsword, Blackfyre, gleamed in his hand as he turned to you, his expression a mix of anger and desperation. Brynden could hear their voices now, faint but unmistakable.
“You’re mad to stay here, woman,” Daemon growled, his voice cutting as the steel he wielded. “You’ll die with them, do you understand? You’ll die because he—” He pointed his blade in the direction of the chaos, where Brynden’s crimson eye burned like a beacon. “Because he will not stop!”
You stood tall, unyielding even in the face of Daemon’s wrath. “I chose to stay,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging around you. “I chose to fight for what I believe, Daemon. You cannot force me to be something I am not.”
Brynden’s heart twisted at your words, pride warring with panic. You were brave, too brave, and it would cost you everything.
“Enough!” he roared as he reached the ridge, his voice cutting through the din. He dismounted in a rush, his boots crunching against the rocky ground as he advanced on the two of you. His sword was raised, its edge glinting with blood and fire. “Step away from her, Daemon.”
Daemon turned, his eyes narrowing as a cruel smile curled his lips. “Ah, the shadow himself. Come to play the hero, have you? What will you do, Brynden? Kill me? Will you stain your hands with your sister’s blood, too?”
Brynden ignored him, his gaze locked on you. “Come with me,” he pleaded, his voice low but urgent. “There’s still time. I can get you away from this madness. Away from him.”
You hesitated, your expression flickering with something he couldn’t quite place. Regret? Pain? Or was it something deeper, something he had never dared to hope for?
But before you could respond, Daemon stepped between you. “She’s made her choice, Rivers. You think you can claim her now, after everything?” He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re too late.”
Brynden lunged, his sword striking against Daemon’s with a deafening clang. The two men clashed, their movements a brutal dance of fury and desperation. Blackfyre against steel, brother against brother, shadow against flame.
You shouted for them to stop, your voice breaking over the sound of their blades, but neither listened. They were consumed, two sides of the same cursed coin, both fighting for something that could never truly be theirs.
It happened too fast.
Daemon feinted to the left, and Brynden lunged too far. The pretender twisted, his blade arcing wide—and then, suddenly, there was silence.
The sound of steel hitting flesh. A gasp.
Brynden froze, his sword falling from his hand as he turned to see you standing between them. Blackfyre’s blade protruded from your chest, its dark steel slick with blood.
Your blood.
Daemon’s eyes widened in horror, and he stumbled back, releasing the hilt. You fell to your knees, your hands clutching the wound as crimson stained your gown.
“No,” Brynden whispered, rushing to your side. He caught you before you hit the ground, cradling you against him as if his arms alone could hold your soul to this world. “No, no, no. Gods, no.”
You looked up at him, your lilac eyes clouded with pain but still achingly familiar. “Brynden,” you whispered, your voice weak but steady. “It’s… all right.”
“It’s not,” he choked, his eye brimming with tears. “It’s not all right. Stay with me. Please.”
Your hand, trembling and bloodstained, reached up to touch his face. “You were always the better man,” you said, your lips curving into the faintest smile. “Don��t let this… break you.”
Your hand fell away, your eyes sliding shut as your body went limp in his arms.
Brynden stared down at you, the world around him fading into nothing. You were gone. The one light in his shadowed existence, extinguished.
Daemon stood frozen, his expression a mask of anguish. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with grief and rage. “This is your doing, Rivers. You brought her to this. You killed her.”
Brynden didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The world was ash and silence, and all he could feel was the weight of your lifeless body in his arms.
For the first time in his life, Brynden Rivers—the master of whispers, the shadow of the realm—was truly and utterly lost.
#game of thrones#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#fire and blood#house targaryen#got#got/asoiaf#x reader#asoiaf x reader#brynden rivers#brynden x reader#brynden x you#brynden x y/n
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mini Bible study: keeping God's commandments
What are the commandments of Jesus?
"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:29-31)
The greatest commandments of Jesus are of love; loving God and loving others. In fact, "God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him." (1 John 4:16)
Following Jesus is not about following a bunch of rules. Following Jesus is about love; following love, the "Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6), and trusting Him to guide us away from what will bring us destruction (sin).
"Loving God means keeping his commandments, and his commandments are not burdensome.” (1 John 5:3 NLT)
#Jesus Christ#Christian#Bible study#this is what makes us girls#girlblogger#girlblogging#girlblogger interrupted#hell is a teenage girl#girly tumblr#girly blog#dollette#this is a girlblog#lizzy grant#female hysteria#girlhood#girl blog#lana del ray aka lizzy grant#2013 tumblr#american lolita#the virgin suicides#americana coquette#coquette#just girly thoughts
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God cares about what you do in secret, more than what you do in public.
#god cares#godcaresforyou#secretsin#secretsins#privatesins#privatesin#sin#sins#living in sin#turn from your sins#repentance#repent of your sins#repentence#turn from your wicked ways#turn to god#turn towards god#put god first#place god first#god comes first#god is the priority#unseen god#private god#personal god#intimate god#god wants all of you#love god#love god with all of your heart mind and soul
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#'Love the LORD your GOD with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.'#This is the first and greatest commandment.#And the second one is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments.#matthew#matthew 22#matthew 22:37-40#JESUS replied:#bible#bible reading#bible study#bible verses#Christian#Christian conduct#Christian faith#Christian living#Christian tumblr#Christianity#faith in GOD#faith in JESUS
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I was born knowing you
Your heartbeat is my mother tongue, and calling your name is like a prayer. And I believe that, in its truest form, sex is worship.
Your breath in my mouth is absolution.
#love = religion#prove me wrong#if you disagree then I’ll assume that you have not felt the embrace of true love and understanding#because if you don’t worship those you love with all your heart body mind and soul. then you’re not loving them right#you can pry my aro-spec membership card from my cold dead hands#I will get married on a cool spring evening and you’ll sob that you don’t know my god like I do#rotten little soldier
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Luke 10:27 (NKJV) - So he answered and said, “ ‘You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind,’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’ ”
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oh.
#man…….#this is so bad for me#im down so bad#i feel like throwing up you’ve got me wide awake at almost 3 am with only you on my mind#this is embarrassing i cant believe myself#this is SO BAD#i feel likee tearing my hair out…… my heart is legit in my throat j thinking about u!!!#this is sick and frankly disrespectful of you PLEASE LET ME REST#god…….#i miss u#i miss you.#i love you!#i don’t know if i’m in love with you but i feel so much for you it is bigger than me#i love u i love u i love u i feel like light around you#a piece of my soul is yours til i breathe my last i hope u know that#oh my darling my bestfriend#i wish i were your home the way you are mine#just need to let this out somehow so i dont end up texting you omg…..#im just. youre so#you. are so much and i want it all ugh#ughhhhhh…. why you (you are the softest bestest brightest person i know) WHY YOU.#whyy ;-;#cant believe this is so cliche im so cliche waaaaaaahhhh#and to not wanna tell u bc its been YEARS but like im still here! oh! !#come back be here !
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2023 MARCH 17 Friday
"The first is this: 'Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these."
~ Mark 12:29-31
#bible#scripture#bible verse#gospel#Mark#greatest#commandment#first#hear#love#God#Lord#Jesus#Christ#alone#with all your#heart#soul#mind#strength#neighbour#as#self#second#no#greater#command
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Let’s Get Out the Golden Ruler
We have heard the Golden Rule many times. Jesus was being harassed by people who wanted to be right more than they wanted to do what was right. The Pharisees and Sadducees didn’t even like each other. But they were united in their dislike of this man, Jesus. He was causing people to question their teaching. In Matthew 22:37–39 Jesus gave them a teaching, now called the “Golden Rule”. He said,…
#all your mind#all your soul#blog#christian#disciples#facebook#first commandment#Golden Rule#golden ruler#Holy Spirit#inspiration#living water#love like Jesus#love one another#love the lord god#love through me#Love Your Neighbor#nicodemus#scripture#tax collector#with all your heart
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Tag Drop
Anakin Solo
01.) Anakin Solo / Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me 01.) Interactions / You Should Be 01.) Mirror / Who's Afraid Of Me
Ariadne
02.) Ariadne / I Can Show You Lies 02.) Interactions / Do It With A Broken Heart 02.) Mirror / I Can Handle My Shit 02.) Ship / To Be Loved By A God
Ariel Triton
03.) Ariel Triton / But Daddy I Love Him 03.) Interactions / Not Growin Up At All 03.) Mirror / Bestowed Upon My Fakest Smiles
Azriel
04.) Azriel / Cross Your Thoughtless Heart 04.) Interactions / One Less Dagger To Sharpen 04.) Mirror / You're In Terrible Danger
Belle
05.) Belle / Secret Gardens In My Mind 05.) Interactions / I Read About It In A Book 05.) Mirror / I'll Get Lost On Purpose
Cal Kestis
06.) Cal Kestis / Old Habits Die Screaming 06.) Interactions / Even If I Die Screaming 06.) Mirror / My Longings Stay Unspoken
Cody
07.) Cody / How Did It End 07.) Interactions / Soul Was Leaving 07.) Mirror / Can't Pretend Like I Understand
Elena Gilbert
08.) Elena Gilbert / Queen Of Sandcastles 08.) Interactions / I'm Just Repeating Myself 08.) Mirror / All These Broken Parts
Evan Buckley
09.) Evan Buckley / It's Ruining My Life 09.) Interactions / Your Quiet Treason 09.) Mirror / For A Fortnight
#01.) Anakin Solo / Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me#01.) Interactions / You Should Be#01.) Mirror / Who's Afraid Of Me#02.) Ariadne / I Can Show You Lies#02.) Interactions / Do It With A Broken Heart#02.) Mirror / I Can Handle My Shit#02.) Ship / To Be Loved By A God#03.) Ariel Triton / But Daddy I Love Him#03.) Interactions / Not Growin Up At All#03.) Mirror / Bestowed Upon My Fakest Smiles#04.) Azriel / Cross Your Thoughtless Heart#04.) Interactions / One Less Dagger To Sharpen#04.) Mirror / You're In Terrible Danger#05.) Belle / Secret Gardens In My Mind#05.) Interactions / I Read About It In A Book#05.) Mirror / I'll Get Lost On Purpose#06.) Cal Kestis / Old Habits Die Screaming#06.) Interactions / Even If I Die Screaming#06.) Mirror / My Longings Stay Unspoken#07.) Cody / How Did It End#07.) Interactions / Soul Was Leaving#07.) Mirror / Can't Pretend Like I Understand#08.) Elena Gilbert / Queen Of Sandcastles#08.) Interactions / I'm Just Repeating Myself#08.) Mirror / All These Broken Parts#09.) Evan Buckley / It's Ruining My Life#09.) Interactions / Your Quiet Treason#09.) Mirror / For A Fortnight
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SACRILEGIOUS DEVOTION [1/3]
ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: So, Father Charlie is out here losing all his morals and sanity on Grotesquerie and my mind couldn't help but match it, so what's a better idea other than channeling all the religious trauma/journey into a spicy one-shot? i for one feel like it's a mini-therapy, but enough rambling, enjoy 😩🫶🏾 i'm in love with a holy man, mother 😔…. second part: 𝐒𝐈����𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹`·.·★
Father Charlie Mayhew was a sick man.
Not in the manner of flesh, but of spirit. He could feel the sickness festering in the quiet corners of his heart, a sinful yearning that had taken root there, twisting itself around his thoughts like creeping ivy.
It was a sickness that, he believed, made him a grotesque parody of the holy man he was meant to be. For how could he call himself righteous, devoted, when every whisper of prayer felt stained by the way his eyes followed you, Sister ____?
You were a vision of purity, an embodiment of the kind of gentle devotion that Father Charlie envied and craved all at once.
He watched you from a distance, always careful not to draw your gaze, afraid of what you might see if you looked too deeply. How dutiful you were, sweeping the church aisle with a focus that made him forget the dust and see only the graceful motion of your hands.
The sun, filtered through stained glass, seemed to seek you out, casting colors on your habit as if to mark you as someone far beyond his grasp, almost holy in your mundane tasks.
It was in the mornings, when he heard the soft chime of your laughter in the courtyard as you fed the pigeons, that he felt the deepest sting of his wretchedness.
The world seemed simpler in those moments, your laughter echoing off the stone walls, the warmth of early sun painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He wondered if you knew how your kindness drew even the animals to you, their heads dipping into your palms as if receiving communion.
There was a stillness to you, a gentleness in every gesture.
The worst of it was during your services. Father Charlie had seen you on your knees before, hands folded in earnest prayer, your lips moving softly as you whispered your devotion to God.
He would stand at the back of the chapel, watching with a mixture of awe and something far darker. He told himself it was admiration, but the truth festered beneath that facade.
It was longing, a hunger that ached at the edges of his soul.
A storm raged outside the convent one evening, winds battering the church walls with a fury that mirrored the tempest building in his chest. The clouds were bloated, dark as his thoughts, and thunder rolled across the sky with a violence that shook even the faith he held so dear.
You had come to his chambers in the dead of night, your knock barely audible over the howling wind. He had been preparing for bed, freshly out of the shower, wearing only his boxers when he heard you at the door.
The creak of the old wood seemed to echo forever as he opened it, and there you stood, eyes wide, looking so impossibly fragile in the dim candlelight of the corridor. Your modest night slip clung to your form, the thin fabric shifting in the draft that sneaked in from the hallway.
Charlie's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you, innocence incarnate, seeking refuge with him.
He hesitated for only a moment before allowing you in, quickly wrapping himself in a silk robe that hung loosely on his shoulders, barely tied. He knew he should not let you enter, but there was something in the way you looked at him—so trusting, so devoted—that made him abandon every rational thought.
You had come asking to pray with him, your soft voice trembling as you spoke. The storm outside seemed like a reflection of the turmoil within him as he let you step past the threshold, closing the door behind you.
Now, you were here, kneeling before him, your eyes upturned and wide, waiting for his command, for his instruction like the obedient servant of God that you were.
Your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts, a gentle, "Father...?"
Charlie could only lament to himself how sinfully pure you looked. He hummed softly, his eyes dark as they trailed over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the delicate line of your neck.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across your skin, highlighting the innocence that made his hunger all the more unbearable.
"Yes, forgive me, Sister. Let us now pray," he finally said, his voice low and rough, the words nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind outside. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead, and you leaned into the touch without hesitation, your eyes closing as if his hand was a blessing.
He swallowed hard, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the forbidden desires he had tried so desperately to keep buried.
He began to pray, his voice low, raspy, each word a struggle against the chaos inside him. "Heavenly Father, we come before you tonight..." But the words felt hollow, their meaning slipping away as he watched you, kneeling so obediently at his feet.
His eyes darkened, wandering further down, tracing the lines of your form. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath—it all seemed to pull him further from the sanctity of the moment.
He should have been thinking of God, of salvation, of the purity of the prayer—but instead, he was thinking of you, of the way the thin fabric clung to your skin, the soft curve of your breasts visible through the modest slip.
He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the delicate line of your collarbone, the way it rose and fell with each breath you took.
The more he spoke, the less the words mattered. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his body, his thoughts growing more erratic, each word of the prayer slipping further from its sacred meaning, twisting into something profane, something filthy. "Protect us from all evil..." he whispered as he traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, the words a bitter irony as he felt himself drawn further into the darkness of his desires.
His hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a hunger that he could no longer deny.
He could almost see the curve of your bare skin beneath the thin fabric, the outline of your body that he should not be imagining. He tried to focus on the prayer, but every word felt like a lie. He let out a shaky breath, the prayer faltering on his lips. "Guide us... guide us in your light," he managed, his voice thick with the weight of his longing.
The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if to warn him, but Father Charlie could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears as he looked down at you, so trusting, so willing.
As the final words of the prayer fell from his lips—"Amen"—you echoed him, your voice soft and unwavering. You blinked open your eyes, looking up at him with such innocence and Charlie felt himself slip past the point of no return.
He knew that no amount of prayer could ever cleanse him of what he wanted, that he could no longer pretend, no longer fight against the pull that drew him to you—the sweet, precious nun who had unknowingly captured his very soul.
Father Charlie stood, his robe slipping slightly from his shoulders, exposing the toned muscle beneath. The wind howled outside, and thunder bellowed again, followed by a flash of lightning that lit the room in a brief, startling blaze of white.
You were still kneeling before him, your wide eyes following his every movement, the flickering light casting you in both shadow and radiance.
Charlie bent at the waist, his fingers reaching out to cup your jaw, thumb caressing your bottom lip as his half-lidded eyes trailed over your face. "Sister ____," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of affection, his name for you almost reverent, as though you were something sacred, something he could worship in his own unholy way.
You blinked, shifting slightly beneath his touch, a soft stutter escaping your lips. "F-Father...?"
He grasped one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around yours, and as he stood, he gently urged you to rise with him. His gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and full of something raw. He began to speak, his voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy with confession. "As a man of God, there are expectations placed upon me," he started, his tone wavering between remorse and something darker, something that made his grip on your hand tighten. "I am meant to guide, to protect, to remain steadfast in my faith."
His other hand moved, slowly pulling your trembling hand against his bare stomach, pressing your palm against the hard planes of his abdomen.
You gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your hand trembling beneath his. The heat of his skin burned into your palm, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.
Charlie continued, his voice lowering, growing more intense as he spoke. "But these days... these days, Sister, I find myself at war. At war with desires that threaten to consume me..." His words trailed off, and he let out a low hum as he rubbed your hand across his stomach, the movement slow, deliberate.
Your hand hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his skin making you tremble as you instinctively pulled back. But his grip was firm, guiding you back, and slowly, tentatively, your fingers splayed across his stomach, your touch feather-light.
You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering down before you took a timid step closer, as if drawn by some invisible force. Your gaze shifted to the side, your cheeks warming with embarrassment at the proximity, at the way you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.
Father Charlie's eyes never left you, and he could see every ounce of hesitation, every flicker of uncertainty that danced across your face. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against your forehead as he spoke, his voice a low murmur, "There's no need to be afraid, Sister. You are safe here... with me."
You blinked, your lashes fluttering as you dared to look up at him, your eyes meeting his through the veil of uncertainty.
There was something in his gaze, something dark and magnetic that pulled at you, made your pulse race. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw; the touch almost comforting, but there was an intensity behind it that made you shiver.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.
You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to speak, your fingers trembling slightly against his skin. He smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips, and he hummed again, satisfied with your silent answer.
His other hand moved to rest against the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, his robe parting further, exposing more of his chest.
Your breath hitched as you felt the distance between you closing, the way his body seemed to envelop yours. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the storm of emotions and the strange, electric pull you felt toward him.
His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watched you. You felt your pulse quicken, your knees weakening under the intensity of his gaze.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and something darker, something that made your heart pound even harder. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your body react, leaning in just slightly, as if craving more of his warmth, his touch.
His fingers trailed lower, coaxing your hand along his body, and you felt the tension, the desire in every muscle. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a husky whisper, "Let me show you, Sister ____... let me show you what devotion truly means."
He kissed you then, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. His mouth moved hungrily, tasting, devouring, and you felt his tongue lick into your mouth, coaxing a soft, surprised whimper from your throat. His groan vibrated against your lips, the sound raw and desperate.
Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the sheer need in his kiss.
You pulled back, gasping for air, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss. He didn't give you a moment to recover; his lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.
He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, to make your knees weaken beneath you. The heat of his mouth trailed down, his tongue flicking out to soothe each small bite, and you felt your body trembling, a warmth pooling low in your belly.
Charlie's hands were relentless, holding you steady as your body threatened to give out, your knees buckling as his mouth worked against your skin. He pulled back only long enough to whisper your name, his voice thick with something between reverence and hunger.
Before you knew it, he had scooped you up, his arms strong and sure as he carried you towards his bed. Your breath hitched, your fingers clinging to his robe as he moved, each step filled with purpose.
He set you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His eyes roamed over you, dark and filled with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
Father Charlie moved quickly, his hands deft as he pushed your slip off your shoulders, the fabric sliding down your skin and pooling around your waist. His lips followed the path of the falling slip, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your shoulders, his warm breath fanning across your skin.
You shivered beneath his touch, the cool air of the room prickling at your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling in response.
His eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he let out a low groan, his hands running along your bare arms, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "You're like a goddess," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and lust. "Perfect. Untouched. A temptation I can't resist." His lips found your collarbone, kissing, nipping, his words vibrating against your skin.
You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, trailing down the center of your chest, his hands spreading across your back, urging you to arch into him. His kisses were relentless, each one making your breath catch, making your body react in ways that felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.
You couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, unsure of what to do, where to touch.
Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He pushed you back against the bed, guiding you to lie down, his hands never leaving your body, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't bear to be without contact. He looked down at you, splayed out before him, your slip barely covering you, and he licked his lips, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin.
"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dripping with a mix of adoration and hunger. "So innocent, so pure... and all mine." He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands working the slip further down your body, baring you completely to him.
The cool air made you shiver, your body exposed, vulnerable, and you couldn't help the way your legs shifted, instinctively trying to close.
Charlie's hands moved to your knees, gently but firmly pushing them apart, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction. His lips moved from your mouth, trailing down your jaw to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as he groaned against you.
He pulled the slip away entirely, tossing it aside, his hands roaming over your bare skin, mapping every inch as though he were committing you to memory. "You are... perfection," he muttered, his voice strained, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch.
His lips moved lower, trailing down your body, leaving a heated path across your chest, your stomach, and further down. His hands were strong, keeping your legs pinned open to the bed, his fingers pressing into your thighs with a possessive hold. He kissed along your inner thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver, anticipation coiling in your belly.
You instinctively tried to scoot back, to move away as you felt his breath getting closer to your core, but Charlie's grip tightened, his hands holding you firmly in place. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, almost predatory, as he whispered, "Stay still, Sister... let me worship you."
He breathed you in, a deep, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if savoring the scent of you, and then he leaned in, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit.
A squeal, half surprise and half pleasure, escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the bed.
Father Charlie's tongue moved with a purpose, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands kept your legs spread, his grip firm and unyielding as he worked his mouth against you, his groans vibrating against your core.
He was relentless, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you.
You could feel his smooth skin against your inner thighs, the sensation only adding to the overwhelming pleasure that built inside you. His tongue moved in slow, teasing circles, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, his eyes flicking up to watch your every reaction.
The sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath—only seemed to spur him on, his groans growing louder as he tasted you.
Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hips bucking against his mouth, a whimper slipping from your lips. Charlie's hands moved to hold your hips down, pinning you to the bed as he continued, his tongue delving into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he worked, utterly consumed by the taste of you.
He was lost in it, in you, his tongue moving faster, his mouth desperate as he devoured you.
You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, your body trembling beneath him. The heat built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, until you felt like you might break apart. His name fell from your lips, a breathless plea, and he groaned in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.
Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body ready to fall apart under his touch.
Your first orgasm washed over you without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you feeling weightless, your entire body trembling as you came undone beneath him. You melted into the bed like butter, your limbs going limp as the intensity of it left you breathless.
Charlie's mouth moved against you with a fervent hunger, drinking in every bit of your release as if it were the most sacred offering.
A small whimper escaped your lips as the sensation grew overwhelming, your body growing sensitive to his touch. He didn't stop, his tongue moving lazily, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, his mouth still savoring you.
Your grip on his head shifted, your fingers now pushing at him, trying to get him to stop, but his hands only gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you in place. "W-Wait..." The heat in your stomach was already starting to build again, the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue igniting another fire deep within you.
Charlie groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his face buried even further between your legs, his tongue relentless.
Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, your body trembling once more as the pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your mind spinning as you tried to form words, but all that left your throat were broken, incoherent sounds—static that filled the room as you babbled.
You tried to scoot back, to move away from the overwhelming sensation, but Charlie's strong arms wrapped around your hips, yanking you back down, his grip unyielding. His own hips pressed into the bedding below, his desperation evident as he devoured you.
You teetered on the edge once more, the pleasure too much, too intense, until it finally broke over you again, your body arching, your mind going completely blank as you came undone a second time.
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on you, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming ecstasy that left you gasping for air.
As you came down from your high, your body trembling, Father Charlie finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. He stared up at you with dark, lidded eyes, his expression filled with hunger, with desire that seemed insatiable.
There was no hesitation, no regret—only a raw need that made it clear he no longer cared about going against his vows, no longer cared about the priesthood or what was right.
All that mattered to him was you.
A/N: i'm sorry, i just watched Grotesquerie last night and i've become obssessed.... ugh, the tension between father charlie and sister megan is just *chefs kiss* it's clear that megan is obviously meant to be y/n and the screenplay was written in the intent of it being catered to the female gaze because wheeeeww 😩...
#xani-writes: father charlie mayhew fics#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#father charlie x reader#father charlie smut#charlie mayhew#priest x nun#nun reader#smut#x reader#naive girl#reader insert#fem reader#x female reader#female reader#one shot#nicholas alexander chavez#charlie mayhew x reader#father Charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#father charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez x reader
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the 5 times you did (not) love each other and the 1 time you did.
summary. as the title suggests. this one was a request! i hope you enjoyed my version of this anon.
pairing/s. poly!marauders + lily / reader.
wc. 4.1k
tags. hurt/comfort, angst, peter pettigrew mention, not proofread, like seriously, fluff, happy ending.
cws: brief mention of violence and blood.
note: i am alive?? crazy. i began this fic, whilst sick, around august, nursing the worst headache ever. i wrote the middle of this fic, sick. and i think it's only fitting that i finished this fic. sick... honestly, i did not proofread any of this, i just know i lowkey love it. after the first one-thousand words, i just spiral and become delirious, so i don't even know what happened here. my first request finished! yippee! and thank you all for 2k :< i love you all so much.
i.
SIRIUS BLACK did not love you—not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.
After Peter Pettigrew’s slight against his family, Sirius would never hold warmth or pity for the skittish mouse ever again. He was played for a fool. And, he did not know which betrayal had hurt more. Peter’s—or yours. (Had you known all along of your adoptive brother’s plans? Did you not think for one second that Sirius would, without a sliver of hesitation, put himself in the way of a killing curse to keep you safe? He’d have died before ever letting the fire in your eyes wither to ashes. Clearly, you did not share the same sentiment.)
He wanted nothing to do with you. Ever. And if the rat-bastard dared to show his face, not even Death would know where to put Peter’s body to rest. Sirius would keep him alive until he begged for death—until the idea of living frightened him more than dying. And for you—beholder of his heart, captor of his soul, and co-possessor of his mind—he could only hope that you stayed far away. You had wrecked him—all of them.
He wanted—
He did not know what he wanted.
For when it came to you, Sirius Black was reduced to a man wandering the deserts—mistaking clouds for water, and the sands for grass blades. You had ravaged every fiber of his being; consumed his every thought and word. The most ironic part of all was that if you had been the one standing there—Sirius would have let you Avada him. Dumbledore could scold him in the afterlife—Sirius could care less. He’d have snapped his wand in half and asked someone else to fight you because Sirius had vowed from the moment he met you that he would never harm a hair on your head. He would never be the reason that tears stained your pretty cheeks.
Well, apparently, trust and promises were not worth a damn thing nowadays.
No, he did not love you—even as you stood on the steps of Grimmauld, your hair ruined by the downpour of rain. Your lips bruised and bitten from a nervous habit Sirius had yet to break out of you.
“I didn’t know, Sirius,” you whispered—your voice the only sound falling on his ears amidst all the thunder and lightning. He only saw you. “Y-You have to believe me. If I knew—Gods, I would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat. Fuck. I thought you knew me better than that.”
He thought so, too.
“Did you know?” Sirius began, taking a step forward and into the storm, a demeaning sneer on his lips. “That when Voldemort stood in our home, your portrait was right behind him? That was all I could look at. If I had died—you would have been the last thing I saw.”
You had not replied.
Sirius grit his teeth. “Go,” he said, voice hoarse.
“Go!” he yelled, grateful for the rain as it masked his own tears as you flinched from the sound of his voice. Not the thunderclap, the lightning strike—but it was him who scared you.
(But you had done so first.)
When you apparated away, Sirius crumbled to the ground and pounded his fists against the asphalts where you were moments ago, screaming and cursing until he saw blood flowing with the rainwater.
It was laughable, really. The way he did not love you.
It was not love that drove him to madness, pummeling Gideon Prewett into a bloody pulp for mentioning your name during a meeting with the Order. He had presumed you to be a Death Eater alongside your brother—Sirius instantly saw nothing but red. (He condemned Bellatrix, his own cousin, for becoming a madwoman. Yet, here he was, unraveled by the very thought of you. The very whisper of your name.)
But whatever it was that had turned him into a fool and a hypocrite all at once, it was not love.
ii.
JAMES POTTER had no love for you—make no mistake about that. He loved love, and he did so fiercely and truthfully. But you and Peter had broken his trust—defiled his loyalty from the moment your brother had brought Voldemort to his doorstep. (Did you know that as he begged and screamed for Lily to hide with their son, Harry—he thought of you? For a fleeting moment, he saw your face, marked by fear and tear-rimmed eyes. And James knew straight away that he would spit on Tom Riddle’s bare feet if only to keep his family safe. If only to see you once more. Alive and well. But, you must not have thought the same—if you had conspired with Peter to sell him and Lily out to the Devil reborn.)
The thought of you breathing was enough to keep James alive.
But, that was not love. It was a mockery of it.
No, he did not feel so much as a twinge of emotion for you. Not even as Mad-Eye Moody brought your limp body back to Grimmauld. It was not love that threatened the magic in his being—that simmered in his blood until the painted walls saw an indent of his fist. (“Poor thing,” McGonagall cooed as she pressed her palm over your forehead. Despite some of the members’ growing distrust for you, you still took an Unforgivable in their stead. “We can only wait. . . Four Cruciatus curses. . .”)
What more did James need to want to rip Peter apart limb by limb?
It was not love that rooted his feet by your side. Sitting hunched on a chair too small for his height, bags beneath his eyes, and the pale of his lips becoming noticeable to everyone who spoke to him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you lovelessly—hands desperately clutching your own. Sirius stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, dagger-like eyes waiting for so much as a twitch of your finger. “I’m sorry.”
It was a plea this time.
He only hoped you did not ask him to love you. For James could give you the world, hand-pick the stars, and burrow his body deep beneath the ground if you had asked for it—but he could not love you.
Everyone had told him not to hope that you would wake up. That your pretty eyes would not flutter open, and you would no longer look at him as you had before. But James was stubborn. He was selfish as he was stubborn. He did not love you—but he needed to hear the sound of your voice. And James would take it any way that he could. The soft cadence of a whisper, or a rough utterance of a single word. Molly Weasley told him to accept reality for what it was. (“You need sleep, dear,” the matriarch fussed. “There’s nothing we can do. Look at the Longbottoms. . . We can do no more for this one as we had done for them.”)
In the still of the night, he left his reveries on the cold of your skin. “Wake up,” he demanded.
“Wake up or else you’re the traitor everyone thinks you are,” James hissed.
But his words held no heat—and his heart held no love for you.
Make no mistake about that.
Then, when you finally woke up, disoriented and throat parched—a hazy recollection of the weeks before—James made sure that no more than four people could enter the room. He did not care if a hurricane, or if Voldemort himself—James had faced him once already, after all—threatened to break the door down. You were theirs to protect.
(But not to love.)
“We need to begin the questioning, James, you know that,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, almost exasperatedly; weary lines written across his face. James would not allow even a toe beyond the doorway. An interrogation meant you had something to do with the attempted murder of James and his family. Whether or not you were innocent, James did not care—he just wanted you safe.
(And a small part of him already knew that you were not your brother’s keeper. Just as they had absolved Sirius of his family’s sins. It would be unfair to not show you the same grace. But before his mind knew that, James’s heart and soul had known the truth all along.)
He found Sirius gently tending to your every need, and already James knew that was Padfoot’s way of begging for forgiveness. The ebony-haired man hung onto your every word. He winced when you flinched, and pressed his apologies to your forehead, rasping for a kindness he did not deserve. Not after what he did. How he turned you away and cursed your name. How they betrayed you.
James did not love you.
But what else could he call the manacles that bound his hands and forced him to his knees when it came to you?
Not. Love.
iii.
REMUS LUPIN could not bring himself to love you. But, he could not love Sirius, Lily, and James either. He was undeserving of such a privilege. But he was not allowed to love you; Remus could only hope that you saw even a shred of worth in him—to wrest each word from his lips and every breath from his lungs. But, he did not love you. No.
Because loving you meant he was to tell you of your brother’s crimes. And Remus could not hurt you like that.
“P-Peter?” you had asked, wearing the eyes of a fretful sibling. Remus lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair gone astray behind your ear. Bellatrix had done a number on you—just as she had done to Alice and Frank. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius was off on a hunt for his cousin, his mind toyed with by the barbarity of war. What they could not do for the Longbottoms, they’d wring themselves dry to do for you. After the Lestranges’ attack, you suffered damage to your throat and memories. Remus could not bear to see you in such pain.
He could not give you love, but Remus would offer up to you his every limb, and the weary skin upon his bones.
“They. . .” Remus grimaced. How could he act as the bearer of bad news? He’d rather dive headfirst into shark-infested waters. Be anywhere else but here. In fact, Remus would rather snatch you away from the funereal walls, and hold you in his arms in the quietude of dawn, than be the one to bring anguish to your eyes. “They’re looking for him at the moment, love.”
One question lingered in your eyes: Why?
Luckily, Sirius was always the better one at sharpening a blunt knife. “He was a traitor,” he spat like acid. “A traitor to the Order. A traitor to us. He’s no friend of ours. Not anymore.”
But Sirius knew—better than anyone else—how difficult it can be to truly hate little brothers, especially once they’ve gone.
“No. . .” You trembled, almost retching as you sobbed into your palms.
Remus held you then, the front of his shirt soaked in your tears, eyes firmly shut as you trembled and heaved in his arms. The sound of your guttural screams bounced off the four walls, and Remus had to bury his nose in your hair. You were alive. Safe. Breathing. But you felt cold as ice; an empty husk stripped bare for grief to take over. And Remus could do nothing but hold you. (He just hoped that wherever Peter Pettigrew was, Remus would not be the first one to find him. Otherwise, they would not be able to recover even a fingernail from his remains.)
“Hush, love,” Remus whispered into your ear as you cried yourself sick. Mourning the loss of your brother, reeling from the betrayal of a bond that was supposed to be stronger than blood. Remus would make him pay, he vowed as much to you. No, Remus and the wolf in him did not know how to love. But he knew how to hurt. And, that, he’d gladly do for you. His body was for you to use as a shield, his soul for you to strip bare, and his heart for you to thieve and never return.
“Don’t cry,” said James, a shadow cast over his frames. “Not for Peter. Never. Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him.” He laid on the vacant space of the bed, gently untangling your hands that were pressed over your heart. “I’ll make sure of it.”
They all would.
But not because they loved you.
It was not out of love, Remus had to remind himself in the coming days, when he stayed diligently by your side as you recovered. Daily sessions with the best healer St. Mungo’s could offer—as if James would allow anything else. There were days your eyes would glaze over, your words rough and sluggish, and Remus would try his damndest to make you smile.
It was the least he could do.
For failing to protect you.
But that was not love.
(It was hope. Wretched, disastrous hope as he fell to his knees, and your name in between his teeth.)
iv.
LILY EVANS was a fighter in all the ways that mattered.
And from the very first moment she held Harry in her arms, eyes raking over his wrinkly, bloodied skin; all ten fingers and toes, her soft cries over his loud screaming—Lily knew she would trade her life for his in a heartbeat. Little, lovely eyes that would soon see the world in his own time. Lily adored him. Cherished every tear, snore, and giggle. She knew then, that a mother’s love was entirely different from any emotion she’d ever felt before.
This was proven the first time Harry had gotten seriously ill. A few weeks after the attempted murder on the Potters, Harry was ceaselessly crying—screaming, even, every night—red-faced as he fussed every breakfast and dinner. Lily found herself at wit’s end. Her protectiveness had gone up a hundred measures; wouldn’t let anyone besides family or Madam Pomfrey see Harry. Yet, even with all the draughts and silly-flavoured syrups, Harry wasn’t getting better.
“Lily dear, you cannot actually be thinking about this,” worried Molly Weasley as Lily stood in front of your door, holed away in the room where you had been recovering for the last few days. It would be the first time she saw you since the incident. More than anything she was afraid. Frightened that you would look at her differently. Whether or not that fear stemmed from love, Lily was not concerned. “We can call for another Healer from Mungo’s to have a look at Harry. . . Who knows what might. . .”
Lily held Harry closer to her, lips firmly pressed, attempting to ignore the way his temperature was unnaturally high. “Might what, Mrs. Weasley?” She knew Molly was only talking out of concern, from a mother’s perspective at least. But she knew you better than anyone else. You would never hurt her, or Harry, that much she was certain of. And if you were the traitor everyone else was afraid of accusing you of, a sentence delivered by association to Peter—then let the guillotine fall, Lily would carry your crimes for you.
She remembered ever-so clearly in her sixth-year, you with dreams glistening in your eyes. (“I’m going to be a Healer, Lils! Minnie said I’d be a great one. . . I want to protect those I love. . . I know I can do it. . . Oh, I can’t wait to tell Peter that I’ve gotten recommendations already to work at Mungo’s after graduation.”)
And Lily recalled at that moment, she had felt a different kind of emotion that she had never experienced before. It was not love, of course. Tuney said she was too young and too stupid to know what real love was. But, at sixteen, what else could describe the way her heart fluttered and the way her lips threatened to break out into a smile whenever you lit up talking about your future? (It was just a crush, young Lily told herself.)
Only to be crushed and cast aside in the face of the war, where fighters took their place at the forefront of the lines, mothers and children hid; healers stretching themselves thin to be here, there, everywhere; where traitors walked in plain sight.
“There is no one else I trust more with my life,” replied Lily.
And that was that.
Lily skirted around Molly and opened the door to your room, where Sirius, James, and Remus all stood at attention at the sight of her and Harry. She ignored them, and headed straight to your side.
“Hello, love,” she greeted with all the gentleness she was made of, a smile creeping up to her eyes as Lily watched you turn your head at the sound of her voice. Truth be told, she did not know what her end-goal was in coming here. But being by your side had always made life a little more bearable, like all the illnesses in the world could not bring her down. And so, her magic had instinctively summoned her person to you. She, at least, was relieved to see colour returning to your cheeks, though the red in your eyes had dulled the hues she adored so much.
“Is that. . .?” you croaked.
Lily nodded. “Harry, meet—”
One of the loves of my life, the most loyal and pure witch anyone ever has the privilege of meeting, someone I want to stay in my life forever.
Lily’s smile wilted. “A friend.”
Later, she would place Harry in your arms—her little hope embraced by her dream—and Lily would wonder if it was by pure magic that Harry calmed in your presence.
For if love could hurt and destroy, could it mend and heal the broken as well?
But what a shame, for not one in that room carried an ounce of love for you.
(She would die for Harry, yes—but she would live for you.)
v.
YOU did not love them, either.
The very idea, thought—insinuation—was absurd. (Why, they deserved much better than you, after all.) With hands that failed to protect them, were you even allowed to hold them anymore? Did your heart have the right to breathe for them? You had failed as a sister and a friend—how much more would you have failed as their lover? Well, you’d never know.
Because you did not love them.
Merely wished them happiness and for the world to extend them kindness. For the sun to look brightly down on them, and for time to heal their scars and wounds. For if they were in pain, the earth would stop spinning. But such a request was not borne from love.
Surely not.
Because, then, that would have meant that it was love that teared you apart when Sirius cursed your name, when James turned you away, when Remus could not look you in the eyes, or when Lily—for all your history together—called you a friend.
The whole of you was made by the parts of them. Each memory welded into the crevices of your soul. From the moment you had all found each other in the same train compartment, same common room—there was a shift in the fates that bound all five of you together. (The ties were red, but the thread was not of love.) You did not believe in Professor Trelawney’s talks of providence and destiny.
Because if you did, then why was the universe so cruel?
Falling—not in love—for four people who could very much do without you in their lives. Lacking severely as a sister to the point you had not noticed your brother fading and fading away into the shadows.
Was love that unkind? That merciless?
Then, you did not want to love at all.
Oh, but magic or not, every creature on this earth selfish.
You were no different.
You wanted.
Oh, how you yearned.
“I LOVE YOU.”
You barely had enough time to react before Sirius pressed his lips to the side of your head, arm covertly sneaking around your waist. The sound of the train whistling as parents yelled their goodbyes filled the station. You stood in the midst of the crowd, eyes never leaving one window in particular as you waved at Harry, now eleven-years-old and now off to Hogwarts.
“Quite a random thing to say, husband,” you murmured, leaning into his warmth. “What for?”
“Just because,” he replied in turn with a fiendish grin. “Well, perhaps for choosing us, for choosing me despite all my fuck-ups. For existing. For being the beautiful, wonderful, kind, precious you. I could keep on going, my darling. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
You wrinkled your nose, eyes rolling from fondness. “I love you too, quite unfortunately.”
He only laughed and pulled you closer to him. “Let’s go home.”
–
“I love you.”
In the house built by new memories, warded by stronger protection charms, and filled with warmth and love—James said this to you each morning before he left for the Ministry, promoted after the war as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Not one foot out of the door until he had showered you in kisses and the symphonies of his heart. James had always been loud, even in his time at Hogwarts. The war had not taken this part of him, and you figured James was too loud to let it be taken from him. He was unapologetically and unabashedly him.
And you had loved him fiercely for that.
“I’ll be home early tonight,” he said, a quiet intimacy washing over the both of you. The early birds of the cottage. “Wait for me?”
“Of course,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, delicately chasing after his lips. “I love you. Be safe.”
-
“I love you.”
“Are you saying that to me or are you reading from the book?” you teased from where you laid on Remus’s chest, hours after James left for work, the afternoon bringing you two together in the living room. Lily was in the gardens, and Sirius was in the shed working on his motorbike. It was perfect. You felt the rise and fall of Remus’s chest beneath you, his heartbeat close to your ear. He was perfect. It was a miracle you had not fallen asleep to the tender lull of his voice.
“Both,” he responded, hand coming up to trace the bare of your skin—a miracle you did not crumble or burn instantly from his touch.
You hummed. “Then, I love you, too.” Then, you grinned, lifting your head to stare up at him. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”
And, oh, how photographs could not capture the beauty in Remus’s smile as his eyes regarded you with such fire.
“My heart, my light, my desire,” Remus began, one finger ever-so softly tracing the curve of your cheek. “In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
–
“I love you.”
Said Lily as she lied in your shared bed, red-nosed and her cheeks pale, sluggish. The Christmas holiday was generous enough to gift her with an unfortunate cold that had been going around the wizarding world. “But, please, go,” she commanded weakly, gesturing for you to join Harry who was stood by the door. “It’s a lovely day outside for making snowmen with carrots as noses and snow angels. Not for taking care of poor old me.”
You rolled your eyes as you sat by her side, swiftly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I love you, which is why I would rather much be here, taking care of the prettiest snow angel to ever exist,” you countered, bringing a spoonful of broth to her lips. “Besides, Harry here has something to tell you. He’s made friends at school. One of them is Molly’s little one.”
“Oh, you did?” Lily cooed, before sniffling weakly. “That’s lovely, darling. Tell me all about them.”
“That’s not all, Lily mine,” you began mischievously as Harry’s eyes narrowed at you through his glasses. “This friendship apparently formed after fighting a troll.”
“You what?” Lily croaked, emerald eyes shimmering with concern and near-dread.
“Did you really, Harry?” James popped his head in the doorway, clapping his son on the shoulder before ushering him inside the room. A spitting image side-by-side as they took the empty space by the foot of the bed. “Good boy. Father approves.”
“Of course you would,” Lily shot at him weakly, melting when Sirius then entered the room and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “And where are you all coming from?”
“Outside,” announced Remus, tugging his tie from his neck. “Sirius and I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley to get some things that’ll make you feel better, Lily love.”
And as the snow fell outside, lazy winds against the window, your little family gathered in one room, there was one thing you knew for certain.
You loved them.
And they loved you.
a/n: i wrote all 4k words while sick. crazy. but anyway, i wanted to believe in love again so here i am. thank you all so much for being patient with me. i promise to do even better in the next fics!
#sunny's hp fics#marauders x reader#hp imagine#poly!marauders x reader#hp fluff#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#lily evans x reader#poly marauders#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders#marauders imagine#marauders angst#marauders fanfiction#marauders x y/n#marauders drabble#poly!marauders x you#x reader fluff#x reader angst#hp x reader#hp angst
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tides of regret | heeseung
summary: in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.
notes: aaand she's here! this is 24.4K words worth of my heart and soul. consider this a token of my appreciation for welcoming me on enhablr. i sincerely hope you enjoy it. <3
deep cuts: #1
warnings: angst/internal self doubt, playful banter, dirty talking, praise, slight degradation, oral (m and f receiving), dry humping, fingering, mentions of exhibitionism and face sitting, nipple sucking, spit, brief moment of anal (tongue only), condom removal, unprotected sex, creampie.
For @enha-stars – may this story rip you apart and stitch you back together.
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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We're TRENDINGG for no REASONN just like god DECREEDD, so here are 5 fics that would steal your breath away:
1. My breaths are run by your compass by regulusrules. [T] [71K] [post-camlann fix-it] [golden age but merlin stabs arthur in his heart first].
Not because it's my fic and it's genuinely so insane you won't believe it, but honestly, it's the best idea I've ever come up with, even better than the widely beloved my heart is readily yours. For me, it's the perfect continuation of their story, and the most unhinged plot twist you could find in a fic.
2. Half of my soul by @clockwrkpendrxgon. [G] [2K] [MCD] [golden age growing old together]
This fic is half of my soul, or what the poets say. It's so much better as an ending than what they've given us. At least this is filled with such golden love it makes you ache. At least this makes sense.
3. from hearth and ashes, we’re reborn by @remuscariad. [G] [5K] [canon era magic reveal].
This fic is so good you'll be on your knees from it. The prose, the characterization, the tropes used... it will linger in your mind and fester there from how beautiful it all is. And the art in it by @onepeppercorn... stunning.
4. Our broken pieces by @aramblingjay. [T] [10K] [canon era established relationship]
You can pry this fic from my cold dead hands. I will never stop recommending it until it gets the fame it deserves. One of the most beautiful fics ever written about them, and genuinely encompasses their characters so perfectly.
5. gentle as an early spring breeze by @prattery. [G] [2.5K] [canon divergence golden age]
They are alive and in love and we're all living in this fic because it's what they righteously deserved. The way their life was written here and the love between them... I swear this author could write anything and I'd kudos it before even reading it.
[For more recs]
#bbc merlin#no we won't ever die#we are#the once and future fandom#merlin#merlin fic recs#merthur#king arthur#regulusrules recs
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