#you can just steal the stuff back! and then steal the rest of their stuff!

[moodymisty]

M-more Horus stuff? Fluff or smut? I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel for more Horus related content crumbs.

Author’s note: Using your request to spread sugar daddy Horus propaganda, sorry.

Relationships: Horus/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, I was like this close to putting daddy kink in this you all better be fucking glad I held back and go full cringe, Fingering, Clothed sex

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the same thing twice.”

Fulgrim’s sonorous voice surprises you, turning around to see him standing not far behind you with his arms crossed and cape flowing gently behind him. This is only the third or fourth time you've even seen him, but before you have a chance to politely greet him, he continues speaking.

“Horus likes to spoil his little Luna Wolf princess, doesn’t he?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and instead just shirk a bit under Fulgrim's gaze, but you know he's not exactly wrong. You shuffle a bit in your shoes in front of the primarch and attempt to say something that won't insult Horus, nor insult Fulgrim's prodding. You know from Horus himself that the primarch is often quite guilty of doing so, if only of entertainment's sake.

“Perhaps he does get a bit overzealous at times. He does it to make up for how long he’s absent, I think.” Fulgrim gives a sweet but knowing smirk.

“How cute. I’m almost jealous.”

It's hard to tell if the primarch is being demeaning towards Horus, or if he finds the Horus' behavior towards his- as Fulgrim put it - Luna Wolf princess genuinely endearing or at least amusing. Though you don't quite figure it out, as the primarch departs with a curt but friendly enough goodbye, and lets you continue walking to Horus’ private study in silence.

Once you reach it and pass a few Luna Wolves along the way, you reach the ones guarding the door to his innermost study and stop. They tilt their heads downward ever so slightly to look at you, and you nearly stutter from the feeling of being their main focus for a moment.

“Am I allowed in to see him?”

You always speak to his men politely, as often times more casual speech tends to confuse Astartes. Jokes and slang can often turn into entire explanations or accidental offenses, if you aren't careful.

“You’re allowed in any room of Lord Horus’ wing unless he specifically states you’re not, my lady.” You nod and walk past them, the door closing shut behind you just as you catch sight of your primarch.

“Horus?”

At his massive writing desk Horus turns to face you, face perking to a smile as he beckons you closer with a hand. Once you are, he can easily pick you up and sit you on the desk to be at level with him, though when he stands, the height difference is one again drastic; Though not as much as if you were on your own feet.

Despite your shining, smiling face at seeing him again Horus can tell something is a bit off with you, and calls it out moments after stealing a small kiss from your lips.

"Is something wrong?" He says, face soft but a bit sterner than it was in preparation for if this issue is something he has to fix.

“Oh, I saw Lord Fulgrim. He seems to have noticed just how many dresses you’ve given me…” You leave out the myriad of other things he's given you- jewelry, perfumes and other delicate goods - and Horus rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry about him. He has no right to talk about such a thing. I’m sure he’s gathered more than enough opulence to make us all pale in comparison. He’s just throwing stones and enjoys the gossip.” Horus’ hands rest on your waist, though he shifts them occasionally to brush up and down your sides. He doesn't have to do so much, as his hands are already large enough to cover a good portion of your midsection.

“I don’t want to you want for even a single thing. It’s the least I can do for the love you give me.” Horus gives a slightly more mischievous and darker smile, as his thumbs brush over your ribs.

“And, is it so wrong for a man to want to see his beloved draped in all the things he can gift her?”

You can't help but heat up under his gaze, feeling his hands pull away from you only to land on your knees and drift upward. He's taking the fabric of your dress up with him, his eyes watching you intently. He always manages to pin you under his stare with so little effort.

"You look so beautiful, I can't help it."

His hands reach the tops of your thighs, pushing your dress over your hips and revealing your underwear. He pulls the middle to the side with ease, and dares to chuckle at the sigh you let out as his fingers brush over your cunt. He kisses the top of your head.

“My men will be here in a few minutes and I must leave. Let me give you something to think about until I return.”

His fingers slip between your folds and press firmly against you, causing you to let out a soft noise as he toys with you. He can feel you getting wetter and wetter as his fingers circle your clit and you bite the inside of your cheek, before leaning forward as you feel his middle finger prod at your entrance. Your hands grip the loose fabric he's wearing for the gentle chill of Terra, wrinkling underneath your tiny fingers.

He slowly but firmly pushes his way inside of you and listens, feeling you writhe underneath him as he fills you. You can feel him curl his finger inside of you, teasing the most sensitive parts hidden deep.

“Horus…” You mumble, feeling his other hand grip your thigh and pull on it to spread you legs apart again after you'd attempted to close them. He holds it gently, but firm to offer no escape.

“We should hurry, little one.”

Your hands pull on his clothing, attempting to hold on as he looms partly over you. He’s watching his hand between your legs the entire time, listening to the sounds that even quiet still make him warm as he begins slips a second finger inside of you. You legs flex against him trying to move, feeling that momentary stretch before it becomes that full feeling you're oh so used to. You're leaking all over his hand, slick and shining same as your upper thighs and the tabletop beneath you. He feels his cock twitch in his trousers as your hips push towards him, desperate for more of anything he'll give you.

He wishes he had more time. He knows now he’ll be frustrated and on edge for awhile until his desire fades long enough that he can forget about it, until he returns. Once he does, he can selfishly indulge in you until you have nothing left to give, and lay tired in his bed adorned only the most beautiful things he can gift you.

Large fingers curling inside of you, filling you close to but not quite as much as his cock would, had he the time.

“Lord Horus? The Vengeful Spirit is ready to depart.”

The primarch doesn’t remove his eyes from the way his hand stays firmly between your thighs, fingers and palm slick. He responds to his men outside the door without missing a beat, or seeming even the slightest bit distracted as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You muffle your voice on his chest, panting as your warm forehead leans against him.

“I will be there in a moment. Go on ahead and board.”

His sons are quiet for a moment you notice, before responding and leaving. You can barely hear it through the sound of your heart in your ears as Horus leans down to speak; Hot breath against the shell of your ear.

They can all wait a bit longer. I won’t leave you wanting, not yet.”

You’re sure he can feel the heat on your face, radiating off your skin as your hips push towards him. You know he can smell you as well, the sweet saccharine scent of your body begging for him. Your cunt tightens around him as he thrusts his fingers into you just that little bit rougher, faster, trying to pull your orgasm from you.

He can barely feel the death grip you have on his clothes, but the way your small hands grip the fabric he finds adorable. You're so unbelievably small in comparison to him, it always stirs something in him when it's particularly obvious.

The latest time was when he'd offered you his cloak during a cold chill, and the way the thick fabric had swallowed your form while you watched his Luna Wolves train had you underneath him getting your tiny cunt abused in his quarters mere hours later.

The wet sounds he pulls from you echo in the massive room as he forces his fingers as deep as they can inside of you, burying to the figurative hilt. It makes your toes curl in your shoes, and jaw shake from how tight it is. You're so close, your stomach is in knots as you desperately dance along that edge.

Your hands leave his clothing to grip his wrist, pulling on it until his palm begins brushing against your clit. It isn’t long until you’re cumming on his hand, thighs trying fruitlessly to crush it as you cry out. Horus merely chuckles, as if your sensitivity and want is amusing to him.

“Good girl, finally.”

Your lips slightly part as you try to catch your breath, only letting out a groan at the overstimulated jolt as he pulls his fingers from you and casts you in that empty, sore ache.

Wiping his hand on the fabric of his trousers he leans close to you and steals a kiss from your lips, feeling your flushed skin on his. When he pulls away he has a smile, but you can see the darkened lust in his eyes; He's so close to you that when he shifts, you can feel his cock brush against your knee through his trousers.

“I will return soon, my love. I promise. Be ready for me then.”

#Horus Lupercal x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[stealthetrees]

So this is more of an AU of the fandom AU where the Coruscant Guard live in a shitty run down building that’s falling apart. But Commander Fox finds this unacceptable so he clears out a warehouse used for storage and builds a shiny new headquarters. The original building they fix up, but only the lobby, a couple offices, and the med bay so troopers on senate duty can stay there due to its proximity to the senate building. Their new building they can go nuts with, adding all sorts of stuff that they arnt allowed to have.

An entire room is filled with tv monitors so they can slice into security cameras around the planet and see everything. They get a nice rec room, an area for the engineers to play around with ideas, even an office for the medics to make you talk about your feelings. A server room is dedicated solely to storing and orgonizing blackmail collected on pretty much everyone worth mentioning on Coruscant.

But after one secret building, what’s another? Areas of strategic importance are carefully chosen and a new headquarters is established nearby. They are each given code names. The original building is still Headquarters, the new main building is the Barracks. The Office is where they run intelligence and investigations from. IT Department is next to the industrial district. The Kennals are much lower than some of their other buildings, a small station set up to monitor the rancor infestation (Thorn moves down there to become a cowboy after he “dies” on Scipio). The Lobby is set in the lower civilian levels as a way to help the people who arnt rich enough to bribe politicians into getting what they want. The Med Bay started as just somewhere for big surgeries, physical therapy and prosthetics, but which the “generous donations” they acquire it grows into a hospital for civilians as well, completely free, and they start hiring nat born doctors, surgeons and nurses while paying them well and proving a great work environment. Adding a therapist office helped a lot of troopers as well.

The system takes a long time to build and works perfectly. Until Fox figures out Palpatine is a Sith. It’s not actually world shattering news, but it does give him a panic attack after realizing Palpatine though Fox already knew, because he had threatened the chancellor with a slug thrower instead of a blaster. Through questions to his batch mates with Jedi generals he learns that Sith can influence people’s minds and decides that in order for the clone rights bill to pass Palpatine needs to die.

And die he does. The rest of the conservative senators are swayed by a mix of blackmail, bribes, and bomb threats. The bill does pass, and most of them are instantly arrested for sentient rights violations, assault, and various other crimes because government property can’t serve as a witness in a civilian court of law.

The timing of all this could not be worse, as two of Fox’s batch mates where on planet, Cody and Wolffe, and they loved to stick their noses in his business. Which means when a lot of Corries are injured in the fight with the senate guards and private security while trying to make arrests, Cody and Wolffe help get them back to Headquarters, because it’s much closer than the Barracks. But Headquarters has a very small med bay because so few troopers use it. So they are over crowded and run out of bacta.

Also Cody gets turned around in the hallway and discovers how bad the rest of the building is. So Fox has a choice to make. He grabs Cody and Wolffe and drags them outside and back to the GAR barracks while texting Thire and telling him he has an hour and a half to make Headquarters look lived in. Then Fox opens a one way comm line with every Corrie as he answers his brothers questions.

Fox commits to the bit so hard they believe the Guard is suffering horribly from abuse and budget cuts while in reality they just steal money from what ever rich person they have the freshest blackmail from. He could just tell them all the illegal things he’s been up to, but Fox would rather die than tell someone more than they needed to know.

#unhinged fox au #he grabs a shovel and keeps digging himself in deeper #it will backfire eventually but not until he’s gotten rid of the Pikes #star wars #commander fox #coruscant guard #marshal commander fox #corrie guard #corries #corrie stuff #commander cody #commander wolffe #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #commander thorn #commander thire

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

I didn't spy this in your master list, but if you have written this please let me know.

Can you write up something about how the fallout 4 companions would react to a sole survivor that says weird stuff in their sleep?

Like, "He's here." And what not?

Cait:

• Usually just tries to ignore it, turning over and stealing the blankets as a way of trying to make you pay for waking her up. She hates getting woken up, if it’s over something ridiculous..she’s definitely not happy.

Curie:

•Takes it way too seriously. She knows better and will eventually learn better but the first few times she hears you speak, she is so confused and trying to figured out who “he” is and if she should get them some water or get you your gun..

Danse:

• Probably the most amused of all the companions. He doesn’t really sleep well anyways so truth be told, a bit of entertainment is happily welcomed. He thinks it’s silly and will just sit there, speaking lowly so you’ll respond to what he says but won’t wake up.

Deacon:

•Totally fucks with you. Regardless of what off topic, random thing come out of your mouth he’ll think of something to egg it on..usually resulting in you waking up and being extremely confused. He pretends nothing happened though…

Gage:

•Big meanie. He’ll tease you and start saying you should put a gag on to sleep- repeating whatever you said especially if it was embarrassing because it makes him have a good chuckle.

Hancock:

• Totally goes along with it, chuckling and probably huffing on a cigarette as he listens to whatever nonsense you have to say. He’s just happy you are resting well enough to even dream..he wouldn’t dare interrupt it for the world.

Macready:

•Would be the one to wake you up to tell you to shut up.

Maxson:

• He’s curious to say the least. He’s always interested in whatever is going on in your head but after hearing some of what your subconscious has to say..maybe he doesn’t want to know after all.

Nick:

•The one that shushes you gently, smiling as he calms you back down into a more restful sleep. He doesn’t care much for being woken up anyway..he doesn’t really need sleep.

Piper:

•Very angry sleeper..would not advise with her. She’ll probably kick you to make you be quiet. God help you if you snore.

Preston:

•Thinks it’s absolutely adorable but doesn’t put much credence to it. He knows you are just dreaming..

X6-88:

• Honestly thinks it’s some of the weirdest crap he has experienced. He hasn’t ever shared a room with anyone so he has no idea if this was the standard..does he do it too? Now he has to know…

#fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 companions #paladin danse #fallout companions #danse #curie #elder maxson #porter gage

[everchased]

(thank you for answering oc questions!!) have you mentioned before why finch took an oath of vengeance?

(of course, i really appreciate getting them!)

mostly it stemmed from having to bear witness to a lot of injustice in his formative years and not having the means to do anything about it. once he got the means (training and tempus's blessing and growing up to be a brick wall) he took it upon himself to even the playing field, to be a deterrent against ~evil~ either by his actions or by his presence alone. to pull good people up and knock bad people down. as hard as possible. preferably so they wouldn't get back up again.

he doesn't enjoy exacting revenge, but he does find a kind of peace in the aftermath. that brief moment of cleaning the blood off his sword when the world feels slightly better because someone awful is gone from it.

rare are the people he swears personal oaths against but that's probably for the best. for everyone.

#ask #actually he was a real tightass about it before getting tadpoled #but funny enough working w/ astarion loosened him up quite a bit #like with the zhentarim #turns out instead of killing people who smuggle and act a menace #you can just steal the stuff back! and then steal the rest of their stuff! #is it less honorable? yes. but tempus only cares about honor in battle. :) no battle? no problem! #oc: finch #anon

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #.things i write #sorry if you're seeing this again #i had to repost #anime smut #jjk drabbles #jjk fic

[sugume]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 

— 

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  

“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 

“Sweetheart...” 

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 

— 

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 

“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 

‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 

— 

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 

“What?” You ask. 

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Please—” 

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 

— 

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 

‘Oh wow.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 

‘And what is that?’ 

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  

You nod. 

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 

“N-no!” 

— 

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 

 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  

“No babydoll—” 

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 

“I know it’s a lot of information.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  

“Suguru—” 

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 

“You okay babydoll?”  

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  

“T-that was—” 

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 

“Same.” You smile before wincing. 

“What’s wrong babydoll.”  

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  

#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes #𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #jujutsu geto #geto scenarios #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut

[mingtinys]

" you should rest "

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : super super excited to be doing this little mini-series starting off with seungcheol !!

You're rudely awoken from your slumber by the slamming of brakes and Seungcheol throwing curses at the car in front of him. Your seat belt stops your momentum, though you can't say the same about your poor suitcases and bags in the back seat that tumble forward with a violent thud.

"Fucking idiot," he mutters, then looks over to you with a complete change of expression. "Are you okay?" He's still got his arm extended over your chest like a mother.

"I'm okay, are you?"

"Yeah," he sighs, letting his arm drop from its protective position in favor of resting his hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes ever so lightly in an attempt to ground himself. "Asshole cut me off and then slammed his brakes. I'm sorry to wake you."

You hum, reaching out to brush back his bangs from his eyes. A fond smile lights up his features at the gesture. "S'okay. How much longer do we have left?"

"About an hour or so."

An hour!?

"Cheol!" You scold, shuffling to sit up in your seat. "You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago to switch off!"

If there was only an hour left that meant he'd been driving for nearly three already. You only meant to nap during his half of the drive to your parents' house then you would finish the rest so he could get some sleep. You even made him promise about three times over to wake you up, but it seems that went unheard.

He just shrugs and steals a glance at you, that signature pout playing at his lips. "I don't mind. Besides, you've seemed stressed lately, I figured you could use the extra rest."

Admittedly, the extra shut-eye was pretty nice. But still, you wish he would've woken you. "I appreciate it, but I'll feel guilty if you take the whole drive. Pull over and we'll switch off for the last bit."

Stubborn as always, Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'll take care of everything, you should rest." There's honestly no arguing with him over stuff like this. So you just sigh and grumble about conquering the trip back on your own to make up for it. Seungcheol just chuckles at your dissent. "You're too cute."

You curl up in your seat once more, turning so you can admire glare at your boyfriend who's a little too happy with himself. He notices, and the way his lips crack into a smile is irritatingly adorable. Seungcheol reaches his arm to the back, fishing out his coat that had been buried under your multitude of travel bags. Placing it over your legs, he steals another lingering glance.

"You're not forgiven yet, I'm still mad at you." It's probably the least threading sentence you've ever uttered in your life. Your voice sounds whiney, even to you, and that really makes Seungcheol laugh.

"I know, baby. Sweet dreams."

#choi seungcheol #scoups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x you #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fanfic #choi seungcheol fanfic #scoups x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol fluff

[5sospenguinqueen]

Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done

7,956 comments

User 1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!

User 2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews

francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥

User 3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on

User 4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car

→ User 1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again

→ User 5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her

→ User 6 he did push max in a puddle once

lilymhe @ alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff

→ alex_albon because you don't support McLaren

→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal

→ lilymhe @ YourUserName i can explain

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User 7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest

User 8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate

→ User 9 actually it was arthur who implied that

→ User 10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari P4 and P8. A strong weekend for the tifosi 💪

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

6,459 comments

User 9 i can't decide what i want to ride more

User 10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team

charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag

→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje

→ charles_leclerc no excuse

→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @ YourUserName

→ charles_leclerc defamation

→ YourUserName @ lilymhe you tell 'em, bby

→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again

User 11 be still my beating heart

mclaren just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others

mclaren P3 and P5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag)

tagged: YourUserName

7,321 comments

mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that

→ maxverstappen1 sickening

→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren

→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?

→ charles_ leclerc @ landonorris no

→ YourUserName @ landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie

User 11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend

User 12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car

liked by charles_leclerc

victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others

maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡

8,066 comments

redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france

kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on

→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰

YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys

→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does

→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke

→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me

landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen

liked by YourUserName, charles_leclerc

danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go

→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst

→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3

→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation

→ User13 the Grid seemed to have learned a new word this week

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName ik houd van je

tagged: charles_leclerc

6,124 comments

charles_lecerlc je sais

→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you

→ charles_leclerc no

→ maxverstappen1 no

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris no

→ arthur_leclerc no

→ pierregasly no

→ victoriaverstappen no

→ lilymhe no

YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick

→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me

→ User 14 you tell 'em, honey

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car

8,593 comments

maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮

→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this

→ maxverstappen1 block me forever

YourUserName wow, not even a tag.

→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour

→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream

→ landonorris @ charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out

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Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.

I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3

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Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x verstappen reader #max verstappen

[kxsalt]

(Hot Coffee, part one. Part two is here.)

Hot coffee pours from the carafe. The young lady turns back to her customer and hands him the steaming cup. He pauses to look thoughtfully into the brew. Pointing at it, he asks; “Is this vegan?” She stares at him blankly. “Uh, yes. Coffee is vegan.” He nods in approval and wanders over to the condiment bar to pour cream into his cup. The girl watches him with dead eyes, shakes her head, and returns to her work. “Oookay… I can help the next customer!”

The next man in line steps up to the counter. “Small coffee, black, please and thank you.” She’s relieved by his basic manners and comprehensive understanding of how to purchase coffee. Pouring his cup, she looks back at him and meets his eyes. “You look super familiar. Have you been here before?” He leans against the counter as she steals a peek at his toned arms. “No, I haven’t. I might be coming by regularly; I just started some work nearby.”  The barista brings the cup to him. “Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your new job!” Handing the man his coffee, they both glance over to see the first customer adding honey into his mug. He looks back at her with a compassionate smile. “Thanks, you too.”

She thinks about him for the rest of her shift, crawling through traffic on her bus ride home, and throughout the evening. I know I’ve seen him before, but where? He didn’t seem to recognize me at all. Finishing her night early, she crawls into bed. The girl opens up her laptop and reaches into her bedside drawer. Pulling out her strongest vibrator, she speaks to it. “It’s been a long day.” Pulling up an old comfort video she presses the buzzing toy firmly against her clit. She exhales deeply and finally starts to relax. Her eyes are fixed on the porn on her laptop. At first, she focuses on the man’s strong arms, gripping the woman by the hips – something that always excited her. But as the video carries on, she finds herself looking at the woman’s face. She looks so excited. Pleasured. Happy.

“You like that, slut?” The girl almost screams, dropping her vibrator between her legs. The man in the video has leaned into the frame. That’s him. From the shop today. That’s him. The woman in the video moans; “Yes! I love it!” He grabs her by the neck. “Do you want to be a good whore?”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, I do.”

A few days later, the girl clocks out for her break. She spends it like all her other breaks, sitting outside, vaping, and fantasizing about sex or getting hit by a bus, depending on her mood. Today is a bus day. She blows a cloud of vapour into the air which drifts past the entrance to the coffee shop. A customer emerges with his coffee, lights a cigarette, and sits down next to her. The girl barely notices: She’s at the part of her fantasy where she’s in the hospital with a lawyer getting a giant check from the city. He takes a drag of his cigarette and gestures at the cloud in front of the shop.

“That stuff will kill you, you know.”

She jolts from her fantasy and turns to the smoking man. “What? Oh, hi! It’s you again. Um…” She fumbles with her device. “What do you mean? Smoking isn’t any better.”

“What? Really? But it’s vegan.” He retorts in a sing-song voice.

The girl clues in on the joke and they laugh together. She expected to be at a loss for words when she saw him again, but she finds herself oddly comfortable.

“So… I know where I recognize you from…?”

“Shit, really? They still have those wanted posters up? Please don’t call the cops.”

They laugh some more. “I just wanted to say… That I’m a big fan. I think what you do is… cool?”

“Oh, thank you! It takes a lot of vulnerability, so hearing that means a lot.”

“How did you start… you know… making porn?”

“What do you mean? I just started. Life’s short. I wanted to do it. So, I did.”

She nods slowly, stunned by the simplicity of his answer.

“You know, I’m filming right around the corner. If you ever wanted to come by and see the process, you’re more than welcome to. Just so long as it doesn’t ruin the magic for you.”

“Really? Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

“Great, here’s my number. Just let me know when you want to come by.”

He stands up and puts out his cigarette.

“By the way, you should quit. It’s bad for your health.”

“Oh please, vaping is the only thing that gets me through the day.”

He walks off to his job. “I wasn’t talking about that!”

She approaches the unassuming apartment door. Hanging from the door handle is a small sign: ‘Filming, don’t knock.’ The girl turns the handle carefully and sneaks inside. All the lights are off, except for the bedroom which is flooded with light. The familiar sounds of sex drift through the apartment. She stealthily approaches the doorway and peers into the bright room.

Three people with various film equipment surround a couple on the bed. She immediately recognizes her new friend kneeling behind a woman. He’s gripping her waist and forcing his cock deep into her. She’s bent over, ass up in the air, with her wrists handcuffed to the bedframe. The woman shrieks in delight with each thrust.

The director sees the young girl at the doorway and slips away to go and talk to her.

“Are you the fluffer?” The director whispers.

“What’s a fluffer?” The girl whispers back.

“Oh, you’re his friend. Never mind. Can you just wait here until the scene is done?”

The woman returns to the improvised set. The girl watches greedily, enjoying her voyeuristic perspective. She feels a combination of fascination and arousal that she’s never felt before. After a few more minutes, the director calls cut and asks the couple to switch positions. The woman on the bed rolls onto her back, her face flushed with ecstasy. The director waves to the actress. “Sorry, we gotta fix your makeup, take five, okay?” The woman releases herself from her handcuffs and scurries off to the bathroom.

“Hey, you made it!” The man sits on the bed, stroking his cock. “Come in, don’t be shy.”

She wanders over to talk to him, giving an awkward wave to the camera crew. Sitting on the bed next to the naked man, they make small talk and he explains a bit of how they work. All the while, he leans back against the bedframe, showing off his muscular body, and stroking himself. She finds himself staring at his thick cock running through his hands.

“Sorry, I just need to stay hard for when we get going again.”

“No problem… That makes sense. Nothing I haven’t seen before!” She jokes and toys with her hair. “Question: what’s a ‘fluffer’?”

“A fluffer is a girl who’s not part of the scene, who helps keep the actor hard during downtime like this. She might have sex or give head.” She catches him glancing at her chest. “…or sometimes just flirt and look cute. Usually, people just do it for fun, but it’s very useful.”

“Aha, okay…” She looks around the room. The crew is entirely ignoring her, scrolling through their phones. Looking into the bathroom she sees the actress still working on fixing her makeup. The girl turns back to the man.

“I don’t want to get in the way, or anything. But… Can I try? Being a fluffer?”

A sweet smile. “That would be really helpful.”

The girl smiles back and lowers her head into his lap. Taking his cock from his hand she strokes it softly, admiring its size. It’s bigger in person. Hungry for him, she wraps her lips around his head. He growls, sending warm waves through her body echoing in her pussy. Her mind goes blank and she slips him into her throat. Wet lips push into the base of his thick, shaved cock. Pride and excitement fill her as he starts to mumble and gasp from her fellatio. Saliva runs onto his balls, which she gently plays with as she deepthroats him. Her pussy drips as his breathing becomes raspy and shallow. I’m deepthroating my favorite porn star, and he loves it. She always knew she was a good cocksucker but getting this reaction from someone so experienced felt incredible.

His hand still softly stroking her hair, she sucks his dick joyfully. Lips wrapped around him, her tongue pushes firmly below his tip, licking upwards to squeeze a little taste of his precum. Still caressing his balls with one hand, the other strokes his shaft. The girl tightens her grip, maximizes her suction, and increases her pace. The man makes another primal noise, and the hand running through her hair finds its grip. Holding onto the back of her head, he pushes her face down again. The girl clamps onto his dick, forcing him to pull hard back up to slide her head up to the top again.

Willing tears roll down her concave cheeks as she holds his cock in his mouth with everything she has. The girl only relents her throat’s hold to let him force his cock deeper. Her shiny eyes meet his unfocused gaze. Her expression is one of complete submission. His expression could easily be mistaken for rage. The man’s other hand reaches down under her dress to find her without panties, and a smooth, bare pussy. She’s wet with her cum, and he grips her bum with the palm of his hand, sliding two fingers into her with ease. The girl’s eyes cross from the feeling of him penetrating her. He bares his teeth and shoves her head down again, and his fingers deep into her pussy.

Sparks fly across her vision and her head swims. A lack of oxygen from her deepthroating of the man’s thick cock, and adrenaline from his touch cause her to come close to fainting. Her pussy only gets wetter at the thought of passing out from getting used by him.

Moments away from darkness, the actress returns from the bathroom and steps over the girl to return to her position. As she reattaches the restraints to her wrists, the director asks them to resume the scene. The fluffer pulls her head off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him, teary-eyed, gasping for breath, and panting for his dick. His eyes are locked deep into hers with a feral glow. Teasing him, she gives him a naughty grin, strings of drool running from her chin to his throbbing cock. “Back to work for you!” Her voice is playful and confident, but her eyes betray a needy disappointment with their interruption.

The girl slowly slides off the bed, standing to face away from him. She looks over her shoulder, down to her exposed bum. His hand still deep between her thighs, gripping her ass, fingers still in her pussy. Not wanting to let go, he doesn’t break eye contact, holding her there. Pushing back just an inch, she fits a little bit more of him inside herself.

“Let’s keep going, we’ve still got a lot to shoot.”

The man gives a disappointed groan and releases the young lady. His fingers slide from her eager slit and he rolls over onto the actress. The girl walks back to the doorway with a sly butt wiggle. The man pushes his cock against the bound woman’s pussy, trying to resume the scene. The actress complains and whines, “Fuck, you’re so hard. Jesus, go slow to start.”

The camera rolls. The man is a professional, and he resumes fucking the actress, with just slightly less enthusiasm than before. Buried deep inside her, he looks up, past the lights, straight into the girl’s eyes. She winks at him and bites her lip.

#kxsalt stories #free use kink #free use slvt #good slvt #submisive and breedable #bd/sm lifestyle #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm kink #bd/sm blog #exhibtionist #exhibition kink #public exhibition #free use cnc #petpl@y #cnc fr33use #cnc free use #fr33 use #fr33use #free use toy #older dad bf #pet girl #older man younger woman #praise and degredation #corruption kink #mind corruption #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #kxsalt praise #kxsalt lifestyle #kxsalt public

[diorhoon]

the very first night.

summary. the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader genres. romance, angst, smut; exes to lovers!au, roommates!au word count. 19.7k

warnings. explicit sexual content (oral sex, protected sex), alcohol consumption, profanity a/n. this was originally written for a different group but i decided to repost it here! title is from the very first night by taylor swift. thanks for reading! :)

ONE

You think that all the decisions you’ve made in your life so far have all boiled down to this one moment.

Karmic retribution, if you will.

Despite the six months for which you and your ex-boyfriend have been separated, Lee Heeseung looks the same. The same floppy hair that never quite sits flat on his head—though he’s let it grow a tiny bit, and now it curls behind his ears—and the same tight-fitting black shirt you swear you tried stealing from him once. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and warm brown eyes that peer back at you. Pink lips which beckon you with a small, yet welcoming smile.

“Hey.” The word drags from his mouth, and he extends the last syllable for a second longer than necessary. “You’re here early.”

Shit. Even his voice sounds the same.

You heft your suitcase and place it by your feet just so you can avoid eye contact. Under different circumstances, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have let you carry your suitcase all the way up the stairs to the third floor—the elevator has been out of commission since before you even met him, and that doesn’t appear to change anytime soon. He probably would have lugged the whole thing upstairs, despite your protests and claims that you’re strong enough to do it on your own. But now, you can only sense his gaze on your figure as you place it securely on the floor.

When you straighten up, he’s still looking at you. He has an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes are clouded, almost as if he’s built some kind of impenetrable fortress against you. You have your walls up, too—in the slight clench of your jaw and defiant raise of your chin—and it’s something someone else wouldn’t be able to notice, but you’re sure Lee Heeseung has.

“Yeah. Um.” You attempt to smile, pray it doesn’t visibly appear as a grimace, and gesture behind you with your thumb. “The packers and movers came by pretty early, so everything ended up moving faster.”

“I see.” He purses his lips, evidently running out of things to say. (Good for you, really, because there’s nothing for you to say either.)

You take the chance to glance behind him—a feat in itself, considering how broad his shoulders are—and observe the interiors of what is going to be your home for the next year. Beige walls, the ratty sofa he bought off a garage sale, the television set he originally used to play video games on but ended up using it to watch shows instead—and a potted succulent placed in the corner. That wasn’t there before.

Before you allow your lips to tug up amusedly, Heeseung speaks again. “Is that all? When’s the rest of your stuff coming in?”

“The movers said they’d have everything ready within two days. It might take me longer to get everything sorted out, though,” you reply, aiming your gaze downwards at your suitcase.

It’s an old thing, with fraying fabric and rusty wheels, but it currently contains a fraction of your belongings: Clothes, toiletry, a small pouch where you keep items that have a special significance to you. Only the bare essentials, really. Heeseung had assured you that the room was furnished, with a bed, closet and desk. His old roommate, Beomgyu, had moved out but left the furniture behind because he had no reason to take them with him—not when he moved in with his girlfriend in her own apartment. All that’s left for the movers to bring over is your bookshelf, your book collection, the rest of your clothes, the Ikea drawer you and your best friend, Kim Minjeong, built together, and other smaller items like your desk lamp and office chair.

“That’s okay,” Heeseung says. “Take as long as you need.”

You nod, mumbling a “thank you”, then bend down to pick up your suitcase.

Heeseung moves aside, granting you enough space to roll it across the floor and head over to the side that leads to the Beomgyu’s old room. Right opposite you is the doorway that leads to Heeseung’s bedroom, and further to the side is the corridor that opens into the kitchen, the small space where he keeps a dining table, and the bathroom.

In a way, you’re glad your room is situated further away from those places. Ghosts of memories linger there, ones that you can’t bear to revisit.

No, it’s better this way; you’re away from everything that you used to consider a second home. Maybe if you close the door behind you, you can pretend like you’re in some kind of void where the only things that exist are you and the bed.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You pause, feeling… something. The way he says your name, so casually, as if it’s second nature to him (it used to be) and nothing has changed at all, has you on edge—not in the good way, but not in the bad way either. 

You turn around. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Your ex-boyfriend hesitates for a second. “I’m… going out for dinner with Beomgyu and some others, is that okay? It might be late by the time I come back.”

“Okay.” Then, feeling the need to clarify something, you say, “You—you don’t have to tell me that. We don’t… owe each other an explanation for where the other is.”

Heeseung stays quiet, and you look away, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You wonder if he’s going to say anything—or even show any kind of reaction at all. 

“Right. We don’t.” His voice is toned down with a kind of uneasiness that you don’t blame him for. Heck, even you feel a twinge of hurt rise up your throat at your own words. “I’ll… let you get some rest.” He nods once, places his hands in his pockets, and walks back to his room.

Your grip on the suitcase handle tightens. Once you enter your room, you let out a pained sigh. You shut the door and turn your back to the wooden blockade that separates you from the rest of the apartment.

This is not going the way you expected—but then again, what had you expected? That everything between you and Heeseung would just vanish and you could talk to him normally without feeling that tiny pinprick of bitterness stab your chest every time you address him? You and Heeseung have a history, filled with good times and bad times, and six months spent away from each other will do nothing to erase that. 

You think of what your old roommate, Minjeong, would’ve said. He’s just a boy, Y/N. Make him clean the toilet all the time so he’ll automatically get sick of you.

You smile to yourself, unlocking your phone. Minjeong is probably too busy settling down in her new home in the city she moved to, so she can’t pick up your call. You decide to send her a text message instead.

You switch to the food app, order your favourite dishes from the Indian place a couple of streets away, and toss your phone onto the bed. Kneeling, you unzip your suitcase and unpack the few items you have with you. As you move around, you can already imagine how to decorate the place, how to make it feel more like a home and less like you’re an intruder. The closet is just enough for all the clothes you own—the ones you’ve packed and the ones stored in cardboard boxes yet to arrive. The desk placed opposite to the bed is perfect for when you have to work on your laptop late at night; if you place your lamp on it, you might even forget that you’re not in your old apartment. The bed already has a mattress with clean linen on the bedspread. You place your old Looney Tunes duvet on it.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings. You pause your unpacking to get the door and thank the delivery guy for the food. Heeseung has already left, judging by the lack of noise in the rest of the apartment. You just hope he doesn’t come back home drunk and shit-faced—that would definitely ruin the rest of your night, and the much-needed sleep you require. 

You decide not to use the kitchen table, instead opting to take the food containers into your room, where you can eat and watch a show at the same time. It’s lonely, but at least you can have your meal somewhere comfortable.

Your phone rings with notifications. You pick it up, carefully balancing the bowl of curry on your knee. 

(19:47) Minjeong: hows the apartment??? did u make Heeseung clean the toilet yet?

(19:47) Heeseung: hey, i’m at a thai place. do you want anything to eat at home? i could get something packaged.

You smile at the first text, tense up at the second one, and place your phone down next to you. Not replying to either of their messages might be a bad idea, but right now, all you want is to have your spicy curry and naan in peace—your best friend and ex-boyfriend be damned.

TWO

It’s only after you move in with Heeseung that your separation from Minjeong truly sinks in. Now, there’s no one you can wake up at two in the morning because your period started and you ran out of pads, or gossip about that one campus couple who broke up in public at your favourite boba place.

Not to mention the fact that living with your ex-boyfriend is mildly awkward at best and stupidly melancholic at worst.

It’s been a week, but you and Heeseung seem to have figured out a way to work in tandem. It appears as though neither of you want to see the other—just yet, at least. He goes for a morning jog at six; your alarm rings at six. He comes back reeking of sweat at seven in the morning; you’re getting ready to leave for work by then. You do the dishes on the days he vacuums the apartment and vice versa. It leaves no room for conversation, other than the occasional greetings and small talk when you happen to cross paths.

In fact, ever since you purposefully ignored Heeseung’s text asking if you wanted anything from the Thai restaurant, he’s made a conscious effort at avoiding you.

You nearly jump out of your seat when someone taps your shoulder. “Hey.”

You turn around and meet your co-worker, Jung Sungchan’s eyes. He smiles at you, eyes curving into little crescents.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back automatically.

If there’s one person you can count on to bring a smile to your lips, even if it’s eight o’clock in the morning—at work, no less—it’s Jung Sungchan. His cheerful nature and lively personality is infectious. His happiness radiates outwards in waves that everyone gets swept up on. You might even consider yourself envious of how easily he sways everyone, with that exuberant smile and those good-natured compliments he doles out to everyone like they cost him nothing. (Which they don’t, you suppose.)

“Something on your mind?”

Your smile turns into a grimace. “You could tell?”

He gives you a little half-shrug, still smiling. “You had a weird, serious, think-y face. And before you come at me for think-y not being a real word—I’m very aware of that, thank you—it’s the best way I can describe you.”

“You chose think-y—” you bite back a chuckle— “as the best word to describe me? Come on, Sungchan, you can do better than that.”

“I can,” he agrees, “but only when the situation is appropriate.” His face turns grave, and he continues, “But seriously, Y/N. Did you have a rough night?”

His eyes roam over your face, evident concern shown in the curve of his lips and the slight dip of his eyebrows. You control your wince, wondering if the swollen bags underneath your eyes aren’t as concealed by your makeup as you thought. 

Rough week, more like. But you don’t say that to him. “Something like that,” you say.

“You moved out a while back, right? How’s the new place?”

“It’s… good. Close to the supermarket and all that. Everything is within, like, a ten-metre radius, so I don’t have to go very far to get things.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Sungchan says, and you can tell he really means it. “I bet you’re tired, though, with all that packing and unpacking and moving around.”

He bends closer, the front of his loosely tucked shirt just barely touching the back of your chair. This close, you can smell the faint scent of Sungchan’s deodorant and fabric softener. He taps his finger on the arm of your chair. “Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

“Um.” You look back at your laptop and the pile of binders next to it. Sungchan seems to know what you’re thinking, because he huffs and says, “C’mon, I’m sure Seungcheol wouldn’t mind if you took a coffee break.”

“I guess,” you return, flashing him a smile when he rolls your chair backwards to give you space to stand up.

Getting up, both of you weave your way to the third floor, where the only functioning coffee maker is housed. The elevator is too crowded and busy for you to use to get down from your position on the seventh floor, so you settle for using the stairs. Throughout the ten-minute walk (which effectively turns into a fifteen-minute one, thanks to him), Sungchan waves and greets every single fellow office worker you pass by. By name.

You roll your eyes and bite your lip to hold back your laugh when a young, female intern—probably still in college by the looks of it—flushes bright red because Sungchan complimented her barrette.

He catches your eye and grins. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head good-naturedly. “It’s nothing. Carry on with whatever you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, “making everyone fall head over heels for you because you’re just so nice.”

His grin only widens. “You make it sound as though being nice is a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” you protest. “I’m just— Greeting every single person you see? By name? How do you even know everyone in the building?”

“I just check their ID card,” he explains, shrugging slightly. “I read this WikiHow article that said if you speak to people using their name, it creates a good impression and makes you appear more confident than you really are.”

“Really?”

Humming, Sungchan nods, before adding slyly, “I’m not sure what you mean by making everyone fall in love with me, though.”

“Please,” you snort. “You’re way too charming for your own good—and I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You think so?” 

You can hear the smugness in his tone and you roll your eyes again. “Yes, I think so.”

“Then…” He trails off, gazing at the handrail.

Sungchan’s voice turns softer, more serious. Contemplation bleeds into his features, and when he speaks again, he lacks the bravado he had with all the other people he spoke to on your way down.

“Guess I better work on charming the right people, huh?” 

You blink, but before you can digest Sungchan’s words, he gives you another bright grin before rounding the corner and striding towards the coffee machine. You follow, the need for caffeine in your system overriding your instinct to mull over what your co-worker said. Unfortunately, it seems you and Sungchan aren’t the only ones who want coffee; a long queue runs ahead of you. Your coffee break might end up taking longer than you thought.

“So,” Sungchan casually drawls, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his ID card’s lanyard. “Do you want to talk about your rough night?”

“I…” You pause and consider. 

Should you tell Sungchan? You trust him enough—you’ve known him for as long as you’ve been working in this company—and he’s always been friendly to you, offering you a ride home when both of you work overtime and paying for your food on the occasional visits to a café or a coffee shop. Besides, he’s the closest person you have to a friend, now that Minjeong lives in a different city and you can’t call her up whenever you feel like it. You decide to tread the waters first, only telling him the bare minimum.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you begin, “if you move in with someone you don’t like but have known for years, what would you do?”

“That’s a tough one.” He scratches his chin, pretending to think. “I guess it depends on the kind of past you share, y’know? But either way, I would try to… make peace with them, I guess. Like a ceasefire. Offer them an olive branch. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” He grins knowingly at the last bit and you shove his shoulder.

What Sungchan said makes sense. You and Heeseung are living together; your past relationship shouldn’t come in the way of talking to each other. But it does, so much more than it should. Try as hard as you might, every time you think of Lee Heeseung, the first thing that comes to your mind is all the kisses you’ve shared, the way his arms feel around you, how both of you broke the promises you made to each other—all because you were too proud and he was too stubborn. 

You still are proud. For all you know, Heeseung might still be stubborn. 

What a pair, you think drily.

You and Sungchan shuffle forwards. He stays silent, allowing you to process your thoughts and wonder how, exactly, you’re going to get over Heeseung and talk to him without feeling like your stomach is twisting into a million knots. 

Once you reach the coffee machine, Sungchan hands you a cup. “It’s hot,” he warns, before carefully handing you the styrofoam cup filled to the brim with the bitter brew. You cautiously take a sip, wincing when you almost burn your tongue and make a face at your co-worker when he chimes, “I told you.”

The walk back to your floor doesn’t take as long as the walk down. Before you part ways, Sungchan offers you a small smile and a pat on your shoulder.

“If you’re wondering how to approach your roommate,” he says, lowering his voice, “maybe start off by offering them food. Works like a charm every time.”

Food. Yeah, you can manage that. Dinner with your ex-boyfriend.

Should be a piece of cake.

THREE

Asking Heeseung if he would like to have dinner with you is decidedly not a piece of cake.

When he comes back home from work, Heeseung has only one trajectory: Travel in a straight line from the door to his bedroom, offering you a tight smile if he sees you along the way. His bag is always slung across one shoulder and his shirt is always untucked and his hair is always a wild mess. If his appearance wasn’t achingly familiar, you would probably laugh every time you see his unruly figure.

It takes a week for you to muster up the nerve to look Heeseung in the eye, after your conversation with Sungchan. He’s been pestering you incessantly, almost exactly like Minjeong. When you told her about Sungchan’s suggestion, she had been nothing short of enthusiastic. Your phone has been blowing up constantly with texts from her, egging you on and on and on to make a move first and raise the (hypothetical) white flag. 

“If you keep putting it off, you’re going to be very miserable for the rest of your immediate future,” was her reasoning when you called and spoke to her on the phone three days ago. “But also if you don’t fucking ask him to have a meal with you within the next week, I will fly over and have you both sit in a room, alone, and force you to talk.”

Both the options are pretty much the same. You didn’t have the energy to tell Minjeong that.

It’s on a Monday evening that you catch Heeseung and pop the question. A Monday evening that’s insignificant, really. Almost laughable at how normal the evening is. Heeseung unlocks the door, closes it while toeing his shoes off, and gives you the same tight smile—one where it doesn’t reach his eyes, his jaw is slightly clenched, and his lips thin into almost straight lines. 

“Heeseung.” Your voice comes out breathless, like you’ve been jogging for miles before coming to a stop in front of him. He pauses, wind-ruffled hair framing his face in cloudy wisps.

“Yeah?” 

“I—uh—” you force the words to tumble out of your lips, before you can overthink— “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?”

Heeseung purses his lips, looking at you warily. He’s careful, cautious, when he asks, “Is… there any special reason?”

You swallow. “No,” you say honestly, not allowing your eyes to tear away from his. “There isn’t. But I tried making lasagne today, and I would like to share it with someone.”

For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, only lets his bag fall into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” he says finally. “Let me just change and wash up.”

You nod, making your way to the kitchen to bring out the casserole. You’re not usually one for cooking—you prefer ordering takeout because it’s easier and they make the food better than you, anyway—but simply ordering food didn’t sit right with you. Lasagne is a dish you’ve made a few times before, and you would rather make something you’re familiar with instead of trying to whip up something new.

When you go back into the kitchen, you find Heeseung already there, bent over an open cupboard’s door as he fishes out some plates and cutlery. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and grey sweatpants, fringe falling freely over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. 

“Are our regular plates okay or do we need the china ones?” he asks, still bent over.

“Why do we need china plates? Wait, why do you even have china plates with you in the first place?”

He looks over at you and shrugs. “Dunno. Beomgyu had a china cutlery phase, I think.”

That does sound like a phase Xu Beomgyu would have.

“The regular ones are fine.” You don’t want to risk breaking Beomgyu’s precious cutlery.

While Heeseung wipes the plates with a dishcloth, you grab two mugs and pour orange juice from the fridge into them. You take one in each hand and follow Heeseung to the kitchen table, placing both of them on either side.

“Orange juice?” Heeseung’s eyebrows are raised.

“Yeah. So?” you challenge him, raising your eyebrows as well.

But he doesn’t say anything against your choice of beverage, only shrugs and mumbles, “We should really stock up on alcohol.”

Your lips twitch. You don’t allow yourself to smile.

Instead, you pull your chair back and sit down, steepling your fingers in front of you. Heeseung piles some food onto his plate. For some reason, you feel weirdly nervous. What if it’s not as good as you think? What if he doesn’t like it?

You shake those thoughts away. This is Lee Heeseung. Even if the food was bad, he wouldn’t tell you; he would only grin, compliment your culinary skills, and continue to eat despite everything.

“Is it… good?” you ask tentatively, after he takes a forkful into his mouth and chews deliberately.

He waits until he’s swallowed before answering. “It’s great. Really good,” he affirms, and you can hear in his voice that he means it.

Well, almost.

It’s the slight dip and intonation of his tone, but it’s one you’re familiar with. You narrow your eyes at him. Heeseung continues eating, oblivious to your glare. In fact, he shovels more lasagne onto his dish and eats with more gusto, pausing every now and then to gulp down some orange juice.

“Really?” you say casually. “I’m glad. Maybe I should try some too.”

Heeseung’s reaction is so instantaneous, it’s almost comical. His eyes widen by a fraction, and he immediately reaches for the casserole. “You should definitely try some,” he says. “But it’s so good, I wanna have some more.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching Heeseung stuff more food into his mouth before deciding to put him out of his misery.

“Heeseung. Tell me the truth. How’s the food?”

He pauses, swallowing the food in his mouth and answering with a subdued, sheepish smile:

“It’s too salty.”

FOUR

“Why are you leaving so early?” Minjeong’s voice crackles through your phone placed on your bed.

“Sungchan said he wanted to try out the croissants at the new bakery that opened nearby,” you reply, fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. “He also said he wanted to buy a baguette so that he could whack his roommate with it. Something about going all the way to Paris to buy it but his roommate used it to hammer a nail into the wall and broke it.”

A pause, and then, “Is his roommate okay in the head?”

“Good question.” You grin at your reflection in the mirror, pat down the hair at the back of your neck, and grab your phone. “I’m heading out now. I’ll text you later.”

“’kay,” your best friend says. “Tell Heeseung I said hi.”

“I will,” you say, but you already know you’re not going to greet him on behalf of her.

Things between you and Heeseung are… still pretty much the same, honestly. After that dinner fiasco, you’ve been too embarrassed to properly address him, and he’s not made much of an effort on his part. Or maybe you’ve been consciously avoiding him so much that he doesn’t get a chance to put his foot forward. Either way, your cheeks still burn up whenever you think of that night’s dinner, so for now, hiding in your room is quite possibly the only way you can prevent yourself from catching fire completely.

Stupid logic. You’re a grown adult, with the ability to make good judgements and make decisions. Unfortunately, your decisions are mostly borderline idiotic.

Shouldering your bag, you leave your room and head to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. There’s a Post-It note stuck on the refrigerator. Peeling it off the fridge’s door, you read it curiously.

Got some cookies from Beomgyu’s friend’s bakery. I’ve kept them in the pantry. Enjoy! :) 

Heeseung’s familiar scrawl is branded into your head, and seeing the yellow square of paper makes nostalgia bubble inside your chest like a bath bomb dropped into a bathtub filled with water. You pocket the note, and smile so widely, your cheeks hurt.

Maybe he’s put his foot forward, after all.

Sungchan is already waiting for you outside your apartment building by the time you go out. He grins at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth flashing happily. 

“Hi,” you greet him. “Did you wait long?”

“No.” Your co-worker shakes his head, still smiling. “I just got here, actually.”

“I’m glad.” You return his smile. “Should we head out?”

Sungchan nods. “Of course,” he says, and you fall into step with him. 

He has a never-ending list of topics to talk to you about—and for the most part, you’re glad that he’s so outgoing. In twenty minutes, you’ve learnt almost everything there is to know about his roommate, Jeonghan, his older sister, his fear of ladybugs (you snort out loud at that particular anecdote), and his favourite anime (Haikyu!! and One Piece). In return, you tell him about that time you and Minjeong accidentally walked into the wrong restroom at a bar, and how you got dumped by your high school crush because he thought you were better than him at playing basketball.

It’s comfortable. Talking to Sungchan always is. 

But you still don’t talk about Heeseung. You try hard to stop thinking of him, but he’s always there at the back of your mind, an unopened gift that you don’t unwrap. 

Finally, you and Sungchan round a corner and find yourselves standing in front of the just-opened bakery. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the open door. An array of different types of breads and other desserts is placed carefully on a display at the counter, and the owner greets you with a welcoming smile.

“What do you want to have?” Sungchan asks, holding your elbow and leading you in.

You eye the basket of croissants. The buttery confection looks delicious, but so does the tray of muffins placed next to it. And the bagels placed beside the muffins. “I can’t decide.”

“How about one of everything?”

You glance at him to see if he’s joking, but Sungchan looks completely serious. “You’re kidding, right?” you say, grabbing his arm. “There’s no way I’m going to let you buy one of everything in this store!”

“I would,” Sungchan admits, a flush creeping up his neck, “if you asked me to.”

You groan. “Sungchan. Please don’t.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m just saying, if you wanted me to—”

“One croissant, please,” you interrupt, addressing the owner. “To go. And he will have…”

“Make that two croissants,” Sungchan finishes. “I’ll have whatever the lady’s having.”

“How gentlemanly of you.”

“I know.”

Sungchan pays for his croissant, and you pay for yours. The owner wraps them up and hands them to you, asking you to visit again. Once you exit, you unwrap yours and take a small bite. The bread is soft and melts in your mouth, leaving a sweet aftertaste. You take another bite, and it’s only then that you notice Sungchan looking at you, a corner of his lips turned upwards in a crooked smile and one hand in his pocket.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No,” he replies. “I just… I would really love to do this again, Y/N.”

Oh.

Sungchan looks at you so hopefully. Like he’s been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. Like he needs to get something off his chest. Like he never wants this moment to end.

“...I’d like that, too,” you say.

Somehow, the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, one that even another mouthful of the sweet snack can’t erase.

FIVE

It’s getting late, and yet Lee Heeseung is hellbent on getting you to keep him company. The worst part is that it’s working—though you would never admit that to him.

Being friends with your ex isn’t that uncommon. You and Heeseung can be friends. But how long are you willing to put up with this ruse before it all blows up in your faces? Friendship between two people who used to date isn’t that much of a big deal—but that’s just it, isn’t it? You and Heeseung weren’t just two people who used to date.

How did you even let him talk you into spending time with him? Or maybe that’s all on you; you’ve never been able to say no to him. One minute you’re looking at his face and remembering the lasagne gone wrong, the next he’s asking if you want to watch a movie with him. Except neither of you have updated your Netflix subscription, so this was a bad idea all along.

Maybe talking to Heeseung is a bad idea. 

Maybe you should go back to your old ways, locking yourself up in your room and only acknowledging his presence when you happen to cross paths. 

But the socialite in you nags, what if he thinks you’re some kind of hermit who only comes out to eat and drink? Besides, he’s here now, right next to you on the sofa—keeping a respectable distance between your bodies—as he watches a rerun of America’s Next Top Model because it was the least shitty thing playing on all the channels you scrounged through fifteen minutes ago. 

Normally, you would be elated at the idea of poking fun at random reality shows, expressing your exasperation at the poorly-written scripted drama and the even worse acting. But even if the showoff between two aspiring models both named Jessica and sporting the same colour of fake tan and bleached blonde hair was somewhat interesting, you find your gaze keeps wandering to your ex-boyfriend.

You trace the contours of his face with your eyes—the cheekbones that jut out only slightly, the furrow created on his forehead as his eyebrows kiss, the way his honey-brown eyes stare at the screen in front of him with a focused intensity. Even the way his lips curve ever-so slightly upwards, despite him pressing them together, has you recalling just how soft they felt against your own. 

His warm, soft skin. The prominent collarbone that you used to press small kisses to whenever you wanted to get his attention. The moles scattered all over his body, creating a canvas for you to paint on by tracing them with your fingers. The flex of his fingers as he bunches them into a loose fist.

Everything about him is so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

Even this semblance of friendship that has bridged the drawn-out distance between you both feels strange—as though somewhere in the back of your subconscious, you recognise that this camaraderie is either a really good thing or could go extremely wrong. You’re in the middle of that bridge, trying your best not to lean too much to the right or to the left, but even a slight misstep could lead to everything going downhill.

“Are you rooting for Jessice H. or Jessica C.?”

“Huh?” You blink, escaping your haze of thoughts. “I’m sorry—which one is which?”

Heeseung glances at you with a deadpan expression. “We’ve been watching them trying to one up each other for the past ten minutes.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. “Both of them look the same to me.”

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, before returning his focus to the show. “It’s the fake tan, isn’t it? Although the hair is similar too… No wonder they’ve been arguing about who put on their mascara better—it looks identical.” 

You play along. “Or maybe it’s the supposed Gucci belts. I had no idea Gucci made handbags with fake crocodile skin.”

“The more you know…”

You laugh at that, and Heeseung looks at you—really looks, the same way he used to when you made a bad joke and giggled at it yourself. He looks at you with adoration written all over his face, in the upward twist of his lips and the crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

You clamp your mouth shut immediately, feeling a sense of nostalgia, longing and wistfulness seep into your skin, through your flesh and settle deep into your bones. 

Too much. It’s too much, and it’s way too early, and you don’t want to dwell on anything at the moment. So you do what you do best: You hide.

You tear your gaze off him and rub your palms on your old jeans. You hear Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, but you force yourself not to look, not to think about him. 

“Hey, uh—I was supposed to call Minjeong right now,” you lie, and even you think it sounds lame coming out of your mouth, so there’s no way Heeseung can’t see through it.

“Y/N,” is all he says. 

You hate the way your chest clenches—just because he said your name—but what can you do? Escape the situation and never bring up the obvious elephant in the room?

Yeah. That’s exactly what you do. Making decisions isn’t your forte, but you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions later. Much, much later, if you can avoid it for as long as you’re living here.

You get up and make a beeline for your room, and Lee Heeseung doesn’t say anything to make you stop.

SIX

Whenever you faltered, Minjeong was your voice of reason. She would help you back to your feet, give you a solid nudge on your shoulder and list out the pros and cons of everything, allowing you to formulate your own opinion and come to a decision.

She isn’t being very helpful right now.

“Think about it,” she reasons. “Before, he was your ex. Now, he’s the guy you live with. You have to talk to him, no matter what.”

She’s right. She knows you know she’s right. You still refuse to acknowledge it, because pride comes before a fall, but you haven’t fallen yet. It’s more like you’re dangling off the precipice.

“How’s Yeonjun?” you say instead, referring to the guy she’s been crushing on ever since she moved to the new city.

Minjeong lets out an unimpressed sigh, the grainy image of her face on your phone screen contorting slightly. “Don’t think you’re being super smart by changing the topic, Y/N. And he’s fine. We went out for boba the other day.”

“Yeah?” You play with the fraying edge of the duvet thrown over your body. “That’s nice.”

Minjeong hums, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “And then he asked if we could hook up.”

You guffaw. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nods vigorously, affirming her statement. “I said no, obviously.”

“Why? Afraid he’s too much to handle?”

“Please,” your best friend snorts. “Have you seen him? I think I’m too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even pay for the boba without tearing his pocket because he was too enthusiastic in getting his wallet out.”

You smile thinly. Minjeong might be poking fun at the man, but you can tell from the twinkle in her eyes and the way her voice is filled with infectious joy that she’s enamoured by him. You wish you could meet him in person. Instead, you have to settle for checking out his Instagram profile.

“Anyway,” she continues, stifling a yawn, “it’s late and I have to head out tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” you say. “Good night. Don’t dream of Yeonjun.”

She flips her middle finger at you and you roll your eyes, pressing the end button. Just when you’re about to fluff your pillow so you can lie down, you hear a knock on your door.

“Y/N?” Heeseung sounds remarkably active, considering the fact that it’s currently fifteen minutes past midnight. “Are you awake?”

Curiosity compels you to answer honestly, “Yeah. Is everything okay?” 

You tread over to the door, swinging it open. Heeseung is in his sweatpants—a pair you know he only wears for bed—and a loose graphic T-shirt. You’re wearing pretty much the same attire, except your shirt is an old one, worn-out from your high school days, and it doesn't fit you that well anymore. You tug the hem over your hips consciously.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I was just…” He pauses, raising a hand and ruffling his hair. “Do you wanna get some ice cream?”

Of all possible things you expected Heeseung to ask you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. You blink, bemused. 

“Or—or we don’t have to,” he backtracks, when you don’t say anything immediately. “I was just craving something sweet, that’s all—”

“Okay,” you say, surprising yourself with your answer. Heeseung is trying to extend the olive branch you placed in between you both, and you have to appreciate that. Regardless of your personal feelings. Besides, Minjeong was right—he’s the guy you live with, and you need to be able to spend time with him. As friends. Nothing more.

“Okay.” He exhales, relieved. “It’s right across the street.”

“I think I know the one you’re talking about.”

The ice cream parlour is a ten-minute walk from your apartment, but walking with Heeseung makes time fly. He says something about mint chocolate being an underrated flavour, and you insinuate that it deserves to be, and just like that, conversation flows between you both as though your past is some kind of a fever dream.

Where Sungchan is a bright ray of sunshine lighting up your way on a cloudy day, Heeseung is moonlight, skittering over your figure and providing solace in the dark. Sungchan is infectious laughter and gleeful smiles; Heeseung is whispered jokes and shared silence.

Perhaps it’s those very qualities that made you fall so hard for the man next to you. You know for sure it’s those very qualities that still have you in his grip, even though he doesn’t know it. Maybe that’s why talking to him is awkward—because how do you move on from someone who captured your heart and kept it for safe-keeping but know that there’s one big, gaping hole in your chest where his heart is supposed to be? Even now, a small part of you belongs to Heeseung, like a little token which he’s kept locked up and hidden the key.

Six months is a long time, but neither you nor Heeseung seems to be able to bring up what happened. Maybe it’s for the best, you think. You would rather have a small bit of this domesticity that feels familiar than have everything blow up in your face because of the harsh words you exchanged.

You ignore the tightening in your chest and focus on the warmth pooling in your stomach when Heeseung grins and offers you a chance to redeem yourself when it comes to good ice cream flavours. You say mint chocolate is tolerable, but only because Heeseung likes it.

SEVEN

Sungchan drops by your cubicle almost every day now. He offers to drop you back home, too.

Each time, you smile but decline politely. You still feel guilty about saying that you would like to spend more time with him as well—but in your defence, you didn’t really lie; you do want to spend more time with him, but only as a friend. Sungchan didn’t specify how exactly he wants to go out with you.

It’s getting harder to say no, however. Sungchan is everything if not persistent, and his determination to take you out has you crumbling under his forlorn gaze and pleading words.

He doesn’t make your heart beat faster, or make butterflies erupt inside your belly. Being with Sungchan doesn’t come with bright fireworks or flashy songs. It’s finding the extraordinary in the mundane, and laughing yourselves silly over jokes that aren’t even that funny.

So. It’s not Heeseung, but Sungchan is nice and friendly and stable, and you think you can fall for him. You and Heeseung aren’t going to cross the threshold of friends ever again, anyway. There’s nothing stopping you from going out with Sungchan.

“Okay,” you say when he asks you again, a half-resigned look on his face when he assumes you’ll just say no again. 

The way his expression morphs to elation is worth it, you think. He surges forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, and the joy he feels is infectious—as most good things with Sungchan are—so it’s no surprise that your cheeks are already hurting from smiling too hard.

When you update Minjeong about the latest turn of events, she tuts disapprovingly and says, “Have you told Heeseung?”

“No,” you say, feeling defensive. “I don’t have to tell him, do I?”

Your best friend waits for a beat. “You don’t, I guess.”

Heeseung interrupts your call then, and you quickly tell Minjeong you’ll text her later. He stands in the living room, holding up a pair of button down shirts, one in each hand, forehead creased and mouth downturned.

You lean against your doorway, amused. “You called?”

His face clears as he looks at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I have this work event I need to attend tomorrow, but I don’t know what to wear.”

You observe the shirts he’s holding up. One is cream in colour, long-sleeved and ironed neatly. The other is black, with a thin white stripe along the collar and sleeves.

“The black one,” you say immediately. And then feel your cheeks heat up with your quick answer. In your defence, Lee Heeseung has always looked alarmingly handsome in black. Objectively speaking.

“I haven’t worn this one in a long time.” He brings it close to his face, squinting at it. “It probably stinks.”

“Smell it, then,” you say, chuckling at the mortified look on Heeseung’s face. “What? You’re telling me you’ve never worn your underwear inside out because you forgot to do the laundry? This isn’t that different.”

“I have never done anything of the sort.” He sniffs petulantly at you, before his eyes narrow. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve worn your underwear inside out?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Gross. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Heeseung tenses up at your offhand comment, and you look down, wondering why that even slipped out of your mouth in the first place. Of course you screw everything up just when things are going decently well. 

“I do,” he mumbles. “I do know you better than that.” When you look at him, he has a wan smile on his lips. “Which is why I’m going to trust your judgement and wear the black shirt. Even if it’s musty from sitting in the back of my closet for so long.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huff, walking over to him and grabbing the cloth out of his hand. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He only raises a single eyebrow at you.

That’s what prompts you to sniff at it. At his goddamn shirt. Like you’re one of those police dogs they use to find missing people.

It… doesn’t smell unpleasant. A little bit musty, like Heeseung said, but that can be attributed to him not wearing it often. Mostly, it smells of faint fabric softener and deodorant—and underneath it all, a scent that is solely Heeseung’s. (Pine and citrus and lavender, all mixed together, in a way that only Heeseung can pull off.)

“It smells fine,” you say, shoving it into Heeseung’s chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not the one who grabbed it and shoved my face into it,” he says, “so who’s the real dramatic one here?”

“I didn’t shove my face into it!” You swat at his shoulder, but he laughs and dodges, eyes twinkling with playfulness.

“If you say so,” he returns, still chuckling to himself.

“When is this event?” 

“Tomorrow evening,” he answers.

“Both of us won’t be at home then,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “I… have a date tomorrow,” you explain, and regret it almost instantly. Why are you even telling him that? He doesn’t need to know.

“Oh,” is all he says, followed by a quieter, “Have fun.”

EIGHT

Sungchan picks you up at exactly six o’clock, wearing a loose button down shirt and slacks, and his hair styled carefully. He perks up as soon as you wave at him, jogging over to you with a smile.

“Hey,” he greets you. “You look good.”

You return his smile, tugging at the edge of your blouse and smoothing out your skirt. “Thank you. So do you.”

Sungchan’s grin brightens, which you didn’t even think was possible. “Thanks,” he says, and then gently takes hold of your elbow. “So… the plan for today is to take you out for dinner, and then a movie. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” you say, letting him lead the way. It’s basic, yes, but you’re a firm believer in clichés—there’s a reason they become popular, after all.

He doesn’t stop talking, and neither do you. Throughout the entire half an hour dinner in some hole-in-the-wall diner that Sungchan discovered a month ago and serves the best blue lemonade mojitos you’ve ever tasted, and the entire two hour movie that’s way too boring for you to focus on the screen anyway, you and your co-worker keep up an endless stream of banter and silly anecdotes and you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would.

It’s refreshing, and when you and Sungchan finally make the walk back to your apartment, you find it difficult to let go of his hand. He pulls you to a stop in front of the building, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of your hand. 

His smile is as bright as ever, albeit tinged with slight disappointment. “So. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding. “Thank you for today, Sungchan. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” he returns. “Listen, I—”

He’s interrupted by someone stumbling across the sidewalk—not someone, you realise. It’s two people, tightly coiled around each other in a manner that is entirely indecent for the public eye. But as they trip around one another—still holding each other tightly—your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

One of them is Heeseung.

The other person is some girl, hair falling loosely across her face, Heeseung’s fingers tangled into her tresses, while his other hand bunches up the material of her dress at her waist. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and you don’t tear your eyes away until Sungchan makes a noise of disgust.

He turns around, blocking your view of them and takes both your hands in his. “I… I’ll call you. Okay?”

You nod numbly. “Okay.”

Sungchan leaves with a bright smile and a lingering kiss on your cheek. You plaster a smile onto your lips until he moves out of your line of sight, after which you begin the arduous trek back to your—Heeseung’s—apartment. Normally, the three floors you climb aren’t much of a strenuous task; tonight, however, every step you take makes you feel like your legs are made of lead. 

You fumble in your purse for your key, the image of Heeseung kissing that girl not leaving your mind. It’s not supposed to hurt, you’re not supposed to be bothered by it. But it stings, like the biting cold on a freezing winter morning, making your fingers stiff and your ears chilly.

You hear footsteps right when you twist the key into the lock.

The last thing you see before you enter the apartment is Heeseung clambering up the staircase, clearly drunk but surprisingly upright. He has a lipstick stain leading from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, his hair is tousled—no doubt from someone running their hands through his silky locks—and his shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you grab the door handle and step inside, because the last thing you want to confront is the fact that your feelings for Lee Heeseung might not be as forgotten as you believe.

Which is fine, all things considered, except Lee Heeseung doesn’t give a damn.

You let the door slam shut behind you before Heeseung can get in. Technically, it’s his house. Technically, he’s the one who has the right to lock you out.

Technically, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum, and technically, Heeseung is allowed to kiss whomever the fuck he wants. 

You wish Minjeong was here. She would ground you, make you see everything calmly and rationally. But she’s been having boy problems of her own (Choi Yeonjun, who is decidedly not as romantic as Minjeong was led to believe), and the last thing you want is to dump your boy problems on her.

Besides, it’s no big deal. Right?

Heeseung lives here. He should have his own copy of the keys. He’s also drunk. (Drunk and half-laid, your mind helpfully reminds.)

Before you start overthinking about letting the door close behind you, you decide that what you really need is a warm shower. So you let your feet lead you to the bathroom directly, and don’t allow thoughts of ex-boyfriends and overly friendly co-workers to enter your brain.

You don’t hear the sound of keys turning in the lock the entire night, but you shove down the guilt that bubbles up your throat. It’s Heeseung’s fault for not carrying them with him wherever he goes; you’re not his caretaker, anyway. 

Your phone pings with a text message from Sungchan, and you pick it up.

(19:47) Sungchan: I had a great time today. Thanks for coming with me :) 

Despite the fact that you only have a towel wrapped around your body, and the fact that your hair is dripping wet, you feel a tingling warmth creep up your chest. 

NINE

Monday is a horrible day.

You woke up half an hour later than usual, which led to you rushing through your morning routine. Your clothes aren’t ironed, which is fine usually, but the shirt you pick doesn’t tuck in quite right and you don’t have the time to change it. You almost tripped over the curb in your rush to get to work and nearly spilled a cup of coffee—which is far too sweet for your liking, due to the dollop of sugar you added by accident—all over yourself. Your manager, Choi Seungcheol, doesn’t approve of the project portfolio you compiled, and the deadline is fast approaching, which means more late nights for you.

And to top it all off, your car engine won’t fucking start.

You’re really not in the mood for Sungchan and his exuberant enthusiasm, which is something he probably catches onto, considering the fact that he stands silently next to you, waiting for you to finish cursing the piece of metal you call a car. Once you’re done resisting the urge to burn down the automobile, Sungchan places a placating hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, training a concerned gaze over your figure. “I can drop you back home.”

“No, it’s fine,” you mutter sullenly. “I’ll just call a cab or something.”

“Y/N, please. It’s no trouble.” He pauses, and you glance at him, at the sympathetic crease of his forehead and the genuinity reflected in his eyes. It’s touching, and Sungchan flashes you a small smile. “I was gonna head over that way anyway—I wanted to get some stuff from that bakery we went to.”

“I—” You hesitate, and he takes the chance to slide in.

“You call the mechanic. I’ll wait for you in my car, okay?”

He scurries away, leaving you biting your lip and staring at your phone. You should probably call Heeseung; he can help. Knowing him, he would probably want to help, regardless of who was asking him. Instead, you search up the nearest mechanic shop and dial in their number, giving them the details of where you are. They arrive a couple of minutes later, and you watch as they hook your car onto their big tow truck and drive away.

Sungchan waves you over to his car, a sleek Hyundai that's probably a few years old but still looks brand new. He opens the door to the passenger seat with a smile before grabbing the stack of folders you had kept clutched to your chest. You let him take them. You’re far too tired to argue.

Briefly, your mind wanders to Heeseung—what he would do if you had told him. Probably run all the way here, your brain supplies, prompting a wry smile to form on your lips. You press them together when you think of Heeseung with that girl immediately afterwards.

The drive to your house is silent, only the rumble of Sungchan’s car and the soft noise of some interview playing on the radio filling the silence. He pulls to a stop near your apartment, bundles up your work folders in his arms and gestures for you to lead the way to your flat. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to pull out your key. Heeseung stands opposite you, dishevelled—just woken up from a nap, it seems. His mouth parts when he sees Sungchan standing behind you.

“Who’s this?” he asks by way of greeting.

You shift uncomfortably, wanting to say something, but the words stick to your throat like you’ve swallowed chewing gum. Sungchan reaches out from next to you, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s positively beaming.

“Hi, I’m Sungchan,” he says. “I work with Y/N.”

Heeseung shakes his hand, eyes roaming quizzically between you and Sungchan. “Nice to meet you,” he says distractedly. “I’m Heeseung, Y/N’s… roommate. And ex—”

“Come on in, Sungchan.” You glare at Heeseung. He only raises an eyebrow in retaliation. Sungchan coughs slightly, blows out a puff of air, and follows you inside.

“You can just…” You wave your hand around vaguely. Gritting your teeth does nothing to bring you out of your haze. It only exacerbates it.

“Did something happen?” Heeseung moves aside, but you feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

“Y/N’s car broke down,” Sungchan supplies. “It’s at the mechanic’s right now, so I offered to drop her back home.”

“I see.” His next statement is directed at you. “You could’ve called me. I would have come.”

It’s only then that you turn around and face him. He doesn’t move, gaze locked unwaveringly on your hunched-over figure. It’s almost like he’s challenging you to say something.

“I know that,” is all you say, voice low.

Heeseung nods. “Good.”

You avert your attention to Sungchan. He appears lost, gaping at both of you as though he can’t quite catch onto what’s going on. “Let’s go to my room, Sungchan. You can leave my stuff there.”

“Okay.” Sungchan nods, giving Heeseung a hesitant smile. “It was nice meeting you, Heeseung.”

“You too.”

It’s a tiny exchange, but it’s enough to cause a fissure inside your heart. Sungchan is always so nice. He gives out niceness like he’s handing out free candy to toddlers. The only time you’ve ever seen him get remotely angry was when another co-worker of yours forgot a pen drive containing a crucial presentation to an important client—even then, all he did was level a glare at her before calmly asking for a backup drive to be brought.

Heeseung, on the other hand, is like a burning ember. Calm one minute, and angry the next—and it’s the reason you love him, but it’s also the reason you broke things off. You and Heeseung are far too similar, hot-headed and careless to a fault, like two candle flames competing to see who can burn their wick the fastest. You didn’t burn the wick. You ended up burning each other instead. Let it not be said that playing with fire isn’t one of your specialties.

Sungchan lets out a breath that sounds like a huff and a sigh simultaneously as soon as he enters your room. “You can leave the stuff here,” you say, pointing at your desk.

He obliges, carefully placing the stack on the table. “That’s your roommate, huh? Y’know, when you said that you were living with someone you didn’t like, I didn’t think you meant your ex-boyfriend.”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s… difficult. I needed a place to live and he was the only person who offered on short notice. It just happened.”

Sungchan nods understandingly, lips pursed in thought. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agree. “One of the nicest people I know.”

“Yeah?” Your co-worker lifts one corner of his lips in an amused half-smile. “What does that make me?”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. You know Sungchan is expecting it. Hell, you’re expecting the words to just come out. The nicest guy of them all. That’s all you have to say.

“You’re… Jung Sungchan.” 

The words are flat on your tongue. Sungchan’s expression falls—just the tiniest bit, a crack in the foundation—but you feel a terrible weight in your stomach, pulling you down, down, down until your head sinks below the surface of the metaphorical waves and the water erases your existence. 

Sungchan is a nice guy—you know that, and you’ve reiterated it so many times. The only thing stopping you from being in a proper relationship with him is your ex-boyfriend, only separated from you by a wooden door and cement walls. Heeseung doesn’t like you anymore, not in the way he used to, and it’s clearly time for you to stop dwelling on what you had.

You swallow, looking at Sungchan directly. “And…” You take a step closer to him. “I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

Sungchan looks at you, his gaze unsteady, but he takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” His throat bobs when he speaks, and that’s how you know he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” you confirm, letting his fingers slip in between yours. 

He shuffles closer to you, and you can smell his woody cologne intermingled with sweat. You can count the moles on his face, see your reflection in his pupils. 

“Y/N, I really want to kiss—”

There’s a knock on your door, and you and Sungchan jump away from each other like a pair of schoolchildren getting caught doing something you’re not supposed to. Sungchan looks down at his feet; you clear your throat before letting out a hoarse, “Yes?”

“You left your phone outside,” Heeseung calls. “The mechanic just called.”

“Oh, um. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Sungchan, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of all possible times for Heeseung to be a cockblocker, why now? “S-sorry about that.”

“No, it’s—you’re fine,” he stammers out, clearly as out of it as you are. “I should probably leave too, I still need to stop by the bakery.”

“Oh, yeah!” you say. “I forgot. Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s getting dark outside and you need to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Thank you for today, Sungchan. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Cursed your car to oblivion, probably,” he teases.

You flush, heat creeping up the back of your neck and ears. “That—you didn’t have to see that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he returns easily, corners of his lips twitching. 

Against your will, your lips twitch upwards too. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Sungchan opens your door, and you follow him out of your room. He gives Heeseung a grin, says, “See you around,” and lets you close the door behind him. 

Heeseung crosses his arms over his chest. You glance at him. His eyebrows are knotted together, lips pressed into a stoic line. You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Hey,” he begins, voice soft, “is that… your boyfriend?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Does it matter?”

He huffs, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yes—no. No, it doesn’t matter. I was just curious, okay?”

You open your mouth, then close it, at a loss for words. Are you and Sungchan together? Not really. Both of you haven’t done or said anything to define your relationship—if there is one in the romantic sense, at least. Sungchan wanted to kiss you, but Heeseung interrupted before anything could even happen—it’s your irritation at the day being shitty, and Heeseung being an asshole after everything he did that makes you roll your eyes at him and snap at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Heeseung’s face turns stony, a hardness to his features that you’ve only seen a few times before—it was directed at you the last time, too. “Okay. Fine. Sorry I asked.”

“Are you?” you retort, and before he can say anything to retaliate, you storm back into your room and lock the door.

Your heart feels like it’s been split into two, one half yearning for the comfort and familiarity that comes with still liking Heeseung, and the other excited to explore what Sungchan could offer you—and what he already has offered. But for now, you decide to get some sleep. Your heart can wait.

TEN 

Minjeong is back.

Minjeong is fucking back, and she’s standing in your—Heeseung’s—living room, arms wide open and a grin on her lips so wide, her eyes crinkle in the corners. It takes all of your willpower not to launch yourself into her arms. Instead, you slow down, toe your shoes off, let your bag drop to the floor, and then launch yourself into her arms.

She laughs at your overzealous demeanour, and you giggle into her hair. God, you’d missed her. Texting every day and video calling every weekend can only do so much, and it’s nothing compared to seeing her in person.

“Hi,” she says, pulling back enough to escape your cage-like hold around her body.

“Hi,” you greet back, smiling so wide and so hard, you can feel your ears pop. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” She confirms your statement by nodding. “Only for a week, though.”

“Ah.”

Your best friend lets out a sheepish chuckle, and you take a step back. Her suitcase is on the floor next to her, and she’s kept her backpack on the sofa. “Are you gonna stay here?” you ask.

She winces. “No, there isn’t much space here. I booked a room at a hotel nearby. It’s, like, ten minutes by walk from here and it’s not very expensive either,” she assures.

“Okay,” you say, a little deflated. If Minjeong stayed with you, at least the awkwardness between you and Heeseung might be reduced by a small fraction. Her overbearing nature and ability to make conversation with literally anyone would be a lifesaver, given the situation you’ve dug yourself into.

A situation that she knows nothing about.

You haven’t had the time to keep Minjeong updated about the latest turn of events—not when she was busy juggling a relationship with her sort-of boyfriend, Choi Yeonjun. She doesn’t know about Sungchan, and she doesn’t know about your lingering feelings for Heeseung.

“Hey, you’re back already.”

Speak of the devil. 

You turn around and find Heeseung leaning against the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. You feel your breath hitch. He continues, “I guess Minjeong already beat me to it, huh?”

“You knew she was coming?” you ask him, almost accusatory. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Minjeong echos, a curious tinge to her tone.

He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Against your will, you find yourself grinning at him. Heeseung dissolves in the slightest—a small hint of surprise—before he grins back at you, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. Minjeong lets out a small huff from next to you, but you know nothing can put a damper on your mood right now. Not even your resurfaced feelings for Heeseung, nor your newfound ones for Sungchan.

Your best friend squeezes your arm. “I have some time before I need to check in at the hotel. Do you wanna check out our old place?”

You turn to her and nod. The prospect of going back to the place where you created cherished memories with someone so dear to you is enticing; then you remember your car is still at the mechanic’s. “My car is out of commission.”

Minjeong only turns and stares at Heeseung. He sighs resignedly, pushing himself off the doorway and heading inside his room. “Let me grab my keys.”

“Might as well stop for ice cream along the way,” Minjeong calls out gleefully to his retreating back. 

You gulp. This… might not be a good idea. If Heeseung tags along with you, this would be the first time since last week where you’re speaking to him normally, making conversation that isn’t just along the lines of “Did you do the laundry?” or “I bought some vegetables”. Of course, if you told Minjeong what happened, she would immediately make sure Heeseung doesn’t come. You chew on your bottom lip, but before you can come to a decision, Heeseung emerges from his bedroom, car keys dangling off his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks.

Minjeong grabs onto your arm, excitement so visible on her face that it prompts the tension in your own features to melt away. You let yourself get carried away by her giddiness, not noticing the fond glances the only male in the group keeps giving you whenever he’s sure you’re not looking. If you’d met his eyes once throughout the drive to your old place, you’d see the way his eyes still twinkle at you with the same intensity as they did months ago, but you’re too busy catching up with Minjeong to notice.

Heeseung pulls to a stop in front of your old apartment building—a dilapidated structure that’s not half as modern as the current building you stay in. At least the elevator is still functioning; you purse your lips to contain your laugh when Heeseung looks at it, eyebrows raised in visible astonishment. Minjeong grips your hand tightly when you reach your floor. You tighten your hold on her hand as well, feeling a sudden burst of emotion erupt inside your chest like lava escaping from a volcano.

You and Minjeong round the corner to the apartment that used to be yours, Heeseung following closely. The door is the same dull brown it was back then as well, but someone has put in the effort to redo the varnish. There’s a potted fern next to it as well. 

You let out a shuddering breath. Minjeong wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close; you aren’t sure if it’s just the wind rattling through the open window, but you hear something like a sniffle.

This is the place you lived in when you had your first boyfriend, when you had your first heartbreak, when you cried your lungs out at some stupid TV show that you were invested in at the time but can’t possibly remember the name of now. This is the place where you and Minjeong bonded over crappy supermarket deals and made a mess of the kitchen whenever you tried to learn how to cook something new.

This is the place where you first met Lee Heeseung.

You tilt your head at him, watch as he stares resolutely ahead of him, like if glares at it strongly enough, he can bore two holes straight through the wood. Eventually, his eyes land on yours.

His lips part but no words come out. He offers you a small smile instead, one so tender and heart-warming and achingly familiar. You blink, and the moment is gone. You’re left with the same sense of wistfulness and longing that you always feel around him. 

Minjeong squeezes your shoulder, eyes shining. “Should we ring the bell?” she asks, and then presses the doorbell before you can respond.

A muffled “Coming!” from inside, and the latch is pulled open to reveal a college student—a few years younger than you, perhaps, with sleep bags underneath his eyes and a cup of coffee clutched to his chest. He looks confused—as anyone would be, you suppose, when you see a random bunch of strangers standing on your doorstep—but his expression clears when Minjeong explains who you are and why you’re here.

He says he’s living here with his boyfriend and their pet cat—a beautiful Siberian who coils itself around his legs, tail upturned—and you feel your heart swell with the knowledge that your old haven is being taken care of well. Minjeong consistently badgers him with questions and he answers each one patiently, to his credit. 

A flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind, however. Does Heeseung not remember this? He was looking for apartments in this building, too, when you met him. Doesn’t he remember the old landlady conversing with you? Doesn’t he remember the way people constantly asked if you two were together, which is what even prompted him to ask for your number in the first place? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel a slight pressure on your shoulder. Heeseung’s hand is on your shoulder. Your gaze flits over to him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “There was a mosquito.”

He’s lying. 

He remembers. 

ELEVEN

“Spill.”

“The… tea?” you ask cautiously, looking at Minjeong. She’s holding a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I am,” you quip, and she rolls her eyes again, taking a sip of the beverage.

“You’ve been distracted since yesterday,” she states matter-of-factly. “Since we went to our old place.” Her voice quietens, “Is it Heeseung? Did he do something?”

You eye her warily, sitting down on the plush armchair opposite her. “No,” you say.

“Then what is it? Did—did you not want me here?”

“No.” You’re quick to alleviate her concerns. “Of fucking course I wanted you here. I missed you. So much.”

Your best friend smiles at that, swirling the tea in the mug. “But something’s bothering you.”

“...Yes.” You admit it slowly, playing with your fingers splayed out on your lap. “It’s not important. You’re here only for a few days, we should do something fun.”

“Y/N,” Minjeong says slowly, enunciating every syllable of your name like she’s speaking to a troublesome child, “if you’re worried about me feeling bad or anything, please don’t. I want to help you.”

You wave her away. “You have your own shit to deal with.”

“What, you mean Yeonjun?” She snorts. “I’m over him. I was over him ages ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just.” You look down at your feet. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

Minjeong cocks her head to the side, studying you carefully. “Yes. I did. What about it?”

Your shoulder slump, dejectedness seeping into your figure. “How… did you do it?” You glance up at her, note the way she observes you carefully. Your voice is almost pleading when you continue, “How did you get over him?”

Your best friend’s expression clears, comprehension dawning on her face. She places her mug down, leaning forward and clasping your hand with hers. “It’s Heeseung, isn’t it?”

You shake your head miserably. “Not just him.”

“There’s someone else?” She doesn’t sound surprised, only intrigued and concerned.

You take a deep breath, lock gazes with her—and everything comes spilling out of your mouth like the tide receding into the ocean. You tell her everything, about Heeseung and Sungchan and how conflicted they make you feel; how one is like the living personification of sunlight on a gloomy day, and the other reminds you of clouds providing shade on a hot afternoon. You tell her about how guilty you feel, as though you’re leading Sungchan to believe that you’re ready for a committed relationship when a part of your heart still belongs to Heeseung. You speak until the words end up garbled and slurred, and your breathing turns heavy and salt water streaks across your cheeks, your best friend rubbing them away with the pad of her thumb.

When you don’t know what to say, Minjeong pulls you into a hug—it’s an awkward position, your elbows locked around her arms while your neck is bent at an odd angle, but it’s comforting, and you let your eyes close tiredly. 

“Y/N,” she says, rubbing her thumb on your shoulder soothingly. “I know it’s hard for you to decide, but you have to know: What do you want?”

The question makes you contemplate. What do you want? 

“I don’t know,” is all you can get out, slumping further into her arms.

She hums softly. “But you’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

Will you? You’re not so sure. Maybe when the time is right. But for now, you rest your chin on your best friend’s shoulder and let her rub circles onto your skin.

You pull back when the position becomes too uncomfortable—you can already feel a crick in your neck—and Minjeong wraps her fingers around her discarded mug. She raises it in a half-hearted toast. “To sexy girls who don’t need men in their lives.”

You giggle, rubbing your eyes. “Men are pieces of shit, anyway.”

“Damn right they are,” she croons, falling dramatically back onto the couch. “We should just get married instead.”

“If you propose to me the right way, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Minjeong grins at you, and it’s infectious enough to make you grin back at her. “Consider it done,” she says. “I have a ring in my nightstand drawer with your name written on it.”

“If it’s not pure diamond, I won’t accept.”

“Tsk. So greedy.”

TWELVE

Introducing Sungchan to Minjeong was not a part of your agenda for the week.

But it’s Sungchan and it’s Minjeong, so really, what else did you expect? Both of them integrated themselves seamlessly into your life, and they have no plans of leaving anytime soon. Might as well get the introductions over with.

Ironically, it happens when you go to collect your car from the mechanic’s, and once they’ve exchanged names and small talk, Minjeong and Sungchan are inseparable. The former regals him with tales of your college shenanigans, while the latter listens enthusiastically, eyes flitting between you both amusedly.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hurriedly interrupt the conversation, right before Minjeong can go into the messy details of how you wanted to marry the toilet when you were drunk once and Heeseung had to physically carry you out of the house because you were convinced the white ceramic was proposing to you.

“You and Heeseung were together for a long time, huh?” Sungchan asks you quietly, once Minjeong is finished with her sulking at you interrupting her story. She’s at the side, conversing with someone on the phone, leaving you and your co-worker alone in front of your car.

You’re so startled by the question, you nearly drop your keys. “I—why do you ask?” 

Sungchan licks his lips, a seriousness to his figure that you haven’t witnessed many times before. “Just… curious, I suppose.”

You look down once, see how he’s twisted his fingers together—even the Jung Sungchan gets nervous, after all—and look back up at him. “Yes,” you admit softly, voice hitching slightly, “we were. We… were in love, I guess you could say.”

He’s silent for a minute, tongue darting out to lick his lips again. “And now?”

“I don’t know, Sungchan,” you answer him honestly. Your heart flutters inside your chest, while your stomach twists into tight knots—two reactions you didn’t think would go hand-in-hand, yet here you are, leaving your heart bare for Sungchan to take while gatekeeping a part of it to yourself.

He raises his head, warm eyes capturing yours. You see the smallest flicker of hope and sadness, two thin wisps of emotion dancing in his eyes—but even then, his lips are turned upwards, because it’s Jung Sungchan. 

“But you could try?” he asks, so softly you can barely catch the words.

You push down the emotions that threaten to swallow you whole, swirling around your entire body like the blood that flows through your veins. “I don’t know,” you say again, no less honest than the first time.

He opens his mouth, but Minjeong walks back to you both, mouth downturned. “My company said they need me back as soon as possible.” She says it calmly, but disappointment and bitterness seep into her voice.

For a moment, you freeze, and then ask, “When do you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she answers with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. “They’ve already booked the flight.”

“Okay.” You nod. “I’ll drop you to the airport.”

“I’ll come with,” Sungchan chimes in, and adds, in true Sungchan fashion, “Make sure Y/N doesn’t drive us all into a ditch or something.”

You shove his shoulder, muttering an “asshole” under your breath, and his smile only widens. Minjeong glances in between you both, lower lip caught between her teeth, before she sucks in a breath and smiles. “Good to know my best friend is in good hands.”

“The best hands, actually,” Sungchan teasingly corrects. 

You roll your eyes at the two of them. “Can we go home now, or not?”

“Home it is,” Minjeong agrees, “but first, I demand Taco Bell.”

“Fine,” you concede, letting her grab the keys from your outstretched palm. 

Sungchan grabs your hand once she clambers into your fixed car. His palm is broad, skin warm, and his fingers wrap around yours with ease. He squeezes your hand once, gently, and it feels like a promise and a farewell at the same time.

Sungchan asks you out again three days after Minjeong leaves. 

This time, he takes you out to an Italian restaurant. He’s dressed up in a suit and a bowtie—and actual blue velvet bowtie that sits snugly at the hollow of his neck—and he’s the perfect gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pouring champagne into your glass like a professional. (When you compliment him on his drink-pouring skills, he just mutters bashfully about how his dad taught him that to please a lady, you need to be good at pouring drinks; it does nothing to ease the quickening pace of your heart.)

Jung Sungchan compliments your dress, says that that specific shade of pink looks beautiful on you. He recommends you try out their vegetable lasagne, says it’s one of the dishes the restaurant is famous for. He laughs about his favourite show, tells you he would love to rewatch it with you someday. He asks if you like gardens because his neighbour is trying to convince him to grow a rosebush outside his house, but he can’t look after plants even if his life depended on it. He wants to go out for ice cream afterwards, but the night is too chilly for the cold dessert so you opt against it.

Throughout, you play someone who’s on her first date, who thinks this is all there is and everything she’s been dreaming of has come true.

You would like to think you’re a good actor.

Lee Heeseung has seen you in nothing but sweatpants and old t-shirts and he used to whisper praises against your skin, flushed with sweat and sweet words. He ate the shitty lasagne you made without complaining, no matter how bad it tasted. He watched whatever was playing on television with you, just because he enjoyed your company and wanted to be wherever you were. He’s not particularly good with plants, but he has a little succulent named Spurt, making sure it gets enough sunlight and water. He likes mint chocolate ice cream, and would defend the flavour with his life.

Lee Heeseung and Jung Sungchan: Two sides of the same coin.

Minjeong’s question resonates in your mind as you and Sungchan walk back to your car.

What do you want?

As you near your vehicle, Sungchan puts a gentle hand on your arm. “Y/N,” is all he says, and you hate the way your chest clenches at that—just because he said your name.

“Did you have fun today?” he continues, eyes roaming over your features like he’s committing you to memory. Like a soldier leaving his wife before he heads out to the frontlines.

“I did, Sungchan. I really did.” You place your hand over his, tracing the veins on the back of his hand, pressing lightly on his knuckles; you need him to know that you truly enjoyed today—desperate for him to know, because it’s the least you can do for him after everything he’s done for you.

“Good,” he says. “I—I had fun today with you, too. I always have fun when I’m with you, Y/N.”

He bends down. You can feel his breath fan out on the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver. He turns his head, and his lips brush against your cheek. A small, soft farewell. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” you begin, feeling your voice begin to wobble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Sungchan whispers, but he sounds firm. “We’re still friends.”

Your heart plummets deep, deep down, a free fall that isn’t orchestrated by gravity. You think you know the answer to Minjeong’s question now.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to Sungchan.

THIRTEEN

The light is on when you enter the apartment. Heeseung’s figure lies hunched on the sofa, head in his hands, a half-empty beer can next to him. You quickly shuck off your heels and drop your purse onto the shoe rack.

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you when pad over to the living room. “You’re back.” He sounds hoarse, tired. 

“Have you been drinking?” you say in return, raising an eyebrow. 

Heeseung glances at the can in his hand then back at you. “Yeah. Long day.”

“Me too,” you admit quietly.

Perhaps it’s the quiet ambience of your shared home—silent, despite the noise of the city outside—that compels him; or maybe it’s the idea of coming home to someone you think you know better than the back of your own hand. Either way, when Heeseung pats the cushion beside him, your feet move automatically and you sit down, letting out a weary sigh.

It’s quiet, but not in the awkward sense. Not like back then, when Heeseung thought you and Sungchan were dating. Not even when you visited your old apartment. Exhaustion makes its home in your bones, and you suspect it’s taken over Heeseung too; there’s no way this shared piece of night can be so comfortable otherwise.

“Want some?” he asks after a few minutes.

“No thanks.”

Heeseung shrugs and puts the can down on the coffee table. “Wanna talk about it?” He leans back against the sofa, arms crossed behind his head.

“No,” you answer, and then, “Do you?”

“No.” He clears his throat, glancing sideways at you. “Were you with… Sungchan?”

“...Yes.”

You don’t have to look at Heeseung to know he’s clenching his jaw. It’s a pure rush of adrenaline that makes you ask, “Why does it bother you so much whenever I’m with him?”

Silence.

You turn your head, cheek brushing against the back of the sofa. Heeseung’s eyes are closed, hair falling in loose strands around his forehead and neck. You wonder what he’s thinking.

His answer excites you—in the rawest form possible. Anticipation builds up in your chest, threatens to explode through your windpipe. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, there is nothing you can do to stop your heart from rabbiting inside your rib cage.

“It doesn’t,” he says finally, an air of decisiveness about him.

For the second time that night, your heart plummets, and you tear your eyes off him. “Okay,” you say. “That is, um, good information to have.”

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” 

“How does it matter to you?”

Heeseung crosses and uncrosses his ankles, this time staring resolutely at the floor. “I don’t know. It just does.”

You purse your lips. He isn’t being fair to you. “What about you?” you demand. “What about that girl you almost brought back home, huh?”

His mouth twitches. “You saw that.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“I’m not blind, Heeseung,” you retort.

Your roommate lets out a sardonic chuckle at that, slowly dragging his eyes up. “I highly doubt that.”

“What do you mean?” You scowl at him, feeling your chest begin to heave. “You—you’re like some kind of a riddle, Heeseung. I can never tell what you mean by anything, and it’s even worse now that you’re drunk and—”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” he interrupts. 

“I don’t care if you’re drunk or not—” you don’t realise your voice is caving in, growing softer and softer by the second— “stop saying things you don’t mean.”

“I want to kiss you,” he says finally. “I want to kiss you and I may be slightly drunk, but I don’t fucking care. And I mean it.”

You swallow, blood pounding through your veins. “Say that again.”

“What?” he says, sounding genuinely confused. His gaze never leaves your face, every ounce of earnestness and honesty written plainly on his features.

“Say it again,” you repeat.

“I want—”

You surge forward, capturing his lips with yours, pressing them firmly against his even when he lets out a muffled gasp. He doesn’t kiss back immediately, but his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly and crumpling the flimsy material of your dress. He kisses you back then, mouth jutting insistently into yours, tongue sliding against your lower lip. You arch your back, scramble to find some balance in this precarious position, and your hands end up tangled in his hair. He tastes like beer and aftershave and something that’s so distinctly Heeseung, you want more.

You pull away when air becomes a necessity, blinking even as Heeseung’s arms pull you closer to him.

“This isn’t over,” you manage to get out in between huffed breaths.

“Tomorrow,” he promises, but his eyes are glazed. He looks at you like a man starved, and tilts his head and kisses you again, kisses you like he might never see you again. 

You let him. It’s Lee Heeseung, after all, and you’ve always been a little weak for him.

You don’t think of Sungchan; don’t let him come out of the tiny pocket you’ve preserved in your heart just for him. Instead, you wrap your arms around your ex-boyfriend’s neck, leaning into his chest and kissing him back with equal fervour, letting him know that you need him as much as he needs you.

God, you’d missed him. Way more than you thought. You’ve memorised his touch, branded it into your mind, but it still feels new. Like the first time you were with him, kissing like two teenagers with reckless abandon. 

His cold fingers find their way underneath your waist, hitching up the loose material of your dress around your thighs. You kneel on the couch cushions in front of him, almost straddling his lap but not quite. His fingers brush against your sides in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

He nips at your lip, asking for entrance to your mouth to which you accept, parting your lips enough for him to get a taste. As he moves his tongue around yours, exploring your mouth in every way possible, you can’t contain the slight whimper that escapes your throat. 

Heeseung groans, leaning his weight onto you as you both start moving together until you’re laid flat against the couch. He’s impatient, you can tell; his fingers dig into your skin, and he groans again when you bite down gently on his lower lip. He pulls back and moves downwards, kissing your jaw and behind your ear, suckling gently on a sensitive bit of skin with expertise. “Tell me to stop,” he says, whispering the words against your skin.

All you do is moan in response, rubbing your thighs together to get some friction with the way he’s moving his mouth against your skin. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, more firmly this time.

“Shut the fuck up, Hee,” is all you reply with, the nickname falling out of your lips with familiarity. 

Maybe it’s the use of something that used to be your thing—something the two of you shared, the shortened version of his name—but hearing it come out of your lips again does things to Heeseung that he isn’t sure he’d ever be able to put into words for you. Trailing his movements down to your neck, he stops at your chest, a small smile spreading on his face. “Forgot how much I loved it when you called me that.”

Looking down at him, you hadn’t realised he’s moved further down your body and his fingers trace the edges of your underwear. Your dress is bunched up above your thighs, skin exposed to the cool air. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, pressing a tiny kiss to the inside of your thighs. He toys with the elastic of the waistband, chuckling when you shoot him an irritated glare.

He stares down at your clothed core, mouth watering while his hands move faster than you can comprehend. It takes him two seconds to hook his slender fingers underneath the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down to your ankles and tosses them onto the coffee table. 

You feel a wave of shyness overcome you—with the way he’s looking at you, desperate for your taste—and you try to close your legs, before his hands land on your thighs, halting your actions. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “I want to see all of you.”

Heat burns your cheeks and flows through your body. You turn your head to avoid his burning gaze as you feel him part your legs. He readjusts himself, laying as flat and comfortably as he can with what little space he has on the couch until he’s face-to-face with where you need him most. He tests the waters, leaning in with his tongue out, letting it graze your clit. You stifle a moan, biting your lip so hard, you think it might bleed.

He smiles, loving how you’re holding back. “So quiet, baby. Wanna remember how I used to make you feel.” Laying his tongue flat against your clit, he gives you slow and soft strokes—so gentle that it drives you insane. 

“You’re such—such a tease,” you gasp out, right when he swirls his tongue around the nub.

Heeseung only raises an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed.” But all the same, any plans he had to be patient with you go straight out the window; he wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you down further to his face. The sudden pull surprises you, and you gasp a little while searching for something to grab onto. He indulges in your pussy, tongue exploring your pulsating hole that clenches around everything and nothing all at once. He relishes in the way you feel on his tongue, groaning against your folds while bringing a hand up and rubbing his thumb on your neglected clit. 

You’re a mess under his touch, squirming on the sofa, loud groans and soft mewls escaping your lips wantonly. Your fingers find their way into his soft locks, pulling gently on his hair and scratching against his scalp. He lets out a moan against your pussy, lapping at your juices as if you’re his last source of water. “F-fuck, Hee, ‘m gonna—” a gasp— “‘m gonna cum.”

This only encourages him to work his mouth harder, wanting to watch you fall apart just by his mouth alone. You tug harder at his hair, moans growing louder and more desperate by the second, and your thighs shudder around his head, feeling the rush of your high come so close, you aren’t prepared for it.

With two final sucks to your clit, you come undone on his tongue followed by a string of moans with broken pieces of his name somewhere in between. Heeseung looks up at you with bright eyes and a satisfied grin, as if he didn’t just eat out your pussy like he would never get the chance to again. The mixture of saliva and your juices dripping down his chin makes your eyes widen even as you squint down at him. 

With careful, deliberate motions, he moves away from you, the grin on his face replaced by a more serious expression. You sit up, leaning on your elbows. The aftermath of your passionate actions catches up to you; reaching over, you snatch your panties from the coffee table and swing your legs over. Throughout, Heeseung doesn’t say anything. He only watches, in that quiet, observant way of his, swiping at his mouth and chin with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box next to the couch.

You glance at him. Is he going to say something? Or is he going to let you walk away again, with all the words you want to say to him lying on the tip of your tongue, always there but never released?

“Y/N.” He scrambles to his feet when you stand up, clutching your underwear in one hand and adjusting your dress with the other. He sounds… uncertain. Completely unlike the Heeseung who cockily asked you if Sungchan was your boyfriend, or who joked around with Minjeong like it was second nature to him.

You bite your lip. “Yes?”

“Do you… do you want anything? Water?” 

You melt a little at his words like an ice cream left out for too long. Lee Heeseung, always so kind, always so caring—you know that better than anyone. 

He can be cruel too, in the way he chips away at your already broken heart. He doesn’t know it but he does—lift your hopes only to let it all crumble down. Like how he broke the promises you made to each other, and how you broke the words you’d sworn to say to him alone.

It hits you again, how you and Heeseung were meant to be, and how lonely it was when he left. You wonder if he feels the same way—did he spend sleepless nights in bed, thinking of you? Did he ever think that if he could travel back in time, he’d do it all over again?

You shake your head no at him. He doesn’t say anything after that, but his lips part slightly. He watches you as you walk over to grab your purse and head inside your room.

That night, you don’t sleep at all—despite wrapping yourself up in your Looney Tunes comforter and the comforting weight of your pillow beneath your head that usually puts you to sleep instantly. 

Instead, it feels like the very first night you and Heeseung broke up all over again.

SIXTEEN

You don’t tell anyone about what transpired between you and Heeseung. It remains hidden between you both, a secret neither of you are willing to bring up.

Minjeong is back to work at her new city, now completely devoid of boy problems of any sort, since Choi Yeonjun has shifted his affections to another co-worker. (“It’s better this way,” she tells you, “he didn’t want a committed relationship, anyway.” You can tell she’s truly not bothered by it, so you grin and agree.)

Sungchan doesn’t come around to your cubicle the way he used to earlier, either. Your days at the office are dreary and boring, now that your co-worker’s sunshine smile isn’t there to keep you company. In fact, the only person who still talks to you voluntarily at work is your boss, Seunghcheol, but even then it’s mostly just a sympathetic smile he offers you followed by a new deadline or a project.

You and Heeseung are back to whatever it was you had when you first moved in, before the lasagne fiasco. Not talking to each other, but not not talking to each other either. You swerve around each other in tandem, finding more and more excuses to avoid whatever happened in between you both. He lied when he said he would talk to you about it the next day, after he ate you out on the couch.

You can’t blame him completely; you’ve made no effort to reach out to him, either.

Weariness seeps into your skin with every passing second. You rub at your already half-closed eyes and hide a yawn behind a closed fist. The letters on your laptop screen swim in front of you. The stack of folders next to it drags a tired sigh out of your lips.

You’re so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally you’re drained out, all the liveliness sucked out of you like someone vacuumed up the inside of your heart. The lack of sleep is getting to you; the lack of someone to brighten up your days is getting to you more.

If you and Sungchan were still on a talking basis, he would have sauntered over to your desk by now, hands in his pockets and the same question on his lips: “Coffee break?”

He’s not here now, probably tucked into his corner of the floor. Maybe his smile is directed at someone else. Maybe he’s taking someone else on the daily ritual that you used to consider yours. Maybe it’s time you get out of your fucking swivel chair and get some coffee.

You’re not doing it alone, of course. No, coffee at the office—no matter how shitty the machine is and how long the line for the coveted caffeine is—is yours and Sungchan’s thing. Besides, he said you’re still friends; it’s time for you to step up.

Stifling another yawn, you blink slowly before pushing yourself off your chair. It occurs to you that you don’t know exactly where Sungchan’s cubicle is—he’d mentioned it was by Seungcheol’s room once. You decide to start there.

It doesn’t take you long to find Sungchan. You walk into him—literally walk into him. A startled gasp leaves your lips when you collide into someone’s chest, an apology already on the tip of your tongue.

“Are you okay?”

You blink once. The voice is familiar. You direct your gaze at the person you bumped into. 

“Sungchan,” you breathe out weakly.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The one and only.”

“I-I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you quickly apologise. “I was on my—”

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” he interrupts. “I should’ve looked at where I was going too.”

“How… have you been?” The question spills out before you notice, and you realise that you’re genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. You’ve missed him, missed his companionship. 

Sungchan looks briefly surprised that you’ve asked him. He clears his throat, once. “Oh, um. I’ve been fine—y’know, the usual. Work, home, sleep and then repeat. How—how about you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit. “You look tired, though.”

He lifts his hand and rubs his cheek with an accompanying embarrassed chuckle. “You could tell?”

He has bags underneath his eyes. His shoulders sag ever-so slightly. His usually perfectly styled hair isn’t as neat as it used to be. You nod. “You look exhausted.”

“Ah.” Another embarrassed chuckle; you can tell he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Coffee break?” you offer, a small, lopsided smile gracing your lips.

This time, the smile Jung Sungchan gives you lights up his eyes.

SEVENTEEN

“This is ridiculous!” you call out for the nth time, glaring at the door with as much intensity as you can muster.

“Minjeong’s orders!” Sungchan calls back, from outside the room. “I have proof that she asked me to lock you two up in order for you to talk it out.”

Heeseung huffs out a breathless laugh from behind you. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, sheets crumpled and pillow on his lap. You turn around to level your glare at him.

“Give it up,” he advises.

“Don’t even.” You pinch the bride of your nose, closing your eyes in exasperation. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? No one told you to tell Sungchan everything!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know he would go and tell Minjeong?” you splutter out, opening your eyes and bringing your hand down. “I didn’t even know they’d exchanged numbers!”

“Might as well get it over with,” Sungchan’s voice travels through the barricade once more. “The sooner the better.”

“I didn’t ask you, Sungchan,” you mutter.

“He’s right, you know.” Heeseung pats the space next to him, inviting you to sit down. “If Minjeong hadn’t forced him to do it, I would have found some way to do it myself.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you retort. “You’ve been avoiding me since the day we—since the day we kissed.”

“I would have tried,” he reasons. “But since you’re here now, can you at least please listen to what I have to say?”

“Oh, so now you have things you want to say,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. Regardless, you sit down next to him. You’re curious, you will admit. This conversation could potentially break your heart, or it could also change the trajectory of your relationship with Heeseung.

Your ex-boyfriend takes a deep breath before beginning.

“The other day, when I said I wanted to kiss you—I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I truly meant it. I’ve wanted to kiss you the minute I laid eyes on you again. I wanted to hold your hand, to take you places around the neighbourhood, to come back home to you.

“I thought we were making progress. I thought we were friends again, and I could somehow win your heart back.” A wry smile crosses his lips. “But then Sungchan came by, and you both just seemed so close. He—he brought back this life in you; your eyes sparkled whenever he was around, and you were always smiling when you were with him. I never saw that after we… after you moved in. You were always so jittery with me—understandably so—and I… I let my jealousy of seeing you with Sungchan get the better of me.

“That day, when I—” he pauses, glancing at you; his eyes are imploring, and you sense that he’s laying himself bare for you— “when you saw me kissing that girl, I did it on purpose. To make you jealous. And then I saw the look on your face, and even when I was drunk, I knew I’d fucked up. So I left her, and I followed you back inside—you closed the door just as I caught up with you. I called up Beomgyu, spent the night at his place. I think that’s when I realised completely that I—that I still love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. Your heart is hammering inside your chest. You can’t believe you’re actually hearing these words.

Heeseung swallows. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Even after we broke up, even after all the things we said to each other—some part of me knew that I shouldn’t give up on you. I have loved you throughout. I will continue to love you throughout.”

He looks down, staring at his hands. In that instant, he looks so small. Vulnerable. As if giving his entire heart to you on a silver platter isn’t enough. As if he’s giving all of himself to you, mind, body and soul.

You need to tell him that your mind, body and soul have always been his.

“Heeseung,” you begin, watching as his eyes travel over to yours uncertainly, “you absolute fucking idiot.”

His lips twitch up briefly. “Wha—”

“I love you, too, idiot.” The words rush out breathlessly. “I never stopped.”

Heeseung’s eyes widen and his mouth opens imperceptibly. You continue, “I knew this would happen. The minute I stepped foot into your house, I knew I would fall for you all over again.”

You reach out and grip his hand, needing something to tether you against him. “And I did.” A watery laugh escapes your mouth. “I fell in love with you all over again.”

A pause, and then Heeseung’s free hand cups your cheek, skin warm against yours. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Heeseung smiles at your confession—a full smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips turning upwards. He leans forward. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You beat him to it, covering the distance between you both with one swift swoop. You capture his lower lip in between yours, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. He kisses you back with equal fervour, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You close your eyes and slide your tongue across the seam of his lips, smiling when he lets out a silent groan. 

He only pulls away once he needs air, but even then he doesn’t let you go. He pulls you forward, making you straddle his lap as he kisses your cheeks, your nose, the column of your throat. You relish in his touches, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging gently at the silky strands.

“We should probably stop,” you whisper, when a particularly sharp nip at your neck elicits a soft moan from you. “Sungchan’s standing outside.”

“Fuck him,” Heeseung says. He presses another kiss on your jaw, looking up at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the universe.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him. “C’mon. I don’t want to scar him for life.”

“Who cares?”

“I care,” you say, slowly getting off his lap. Already you can feel the absence of his warmth. 

“Fine,” he agrees, once you stand up fully and brush yourself off. “I love you.”

Warmth shoots up your chest and onto your cheeks and neck. Your heart swells, and you find yourself grinning involuntarily. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Heeseung stands up and pecks your cheek. “Now let’s go save Sungchan from his misery.”

(Later, if you find Sungchan with bright pink ears as he pointedly avoids yours and Heeseung’s gaze, that’s no one’s business but his.)

EIGHTEEN

Heeseung sucks on a sweet spot right underneath your ear and you can practically hear his smirk when you let out a whine. You fist your hand in the sheets, feeling the soft material crinkle underneath your fingertips. 

“Such a tease,” you whisper out.

He lowers his head, nips at your neck and then runs his tongue over the spot, soothing it. “So you’ve mentioned.”

Your retort dies on your lips when he moves lower and lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones and shoulders. You whine again when his fingers find your nipple, pinching the bud lightly in between his thumb and forefingers. He moves lower, breath ghosting over your abdomen and belly button, until he finally comes face to face with your clothed pussy.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your panties, nails scraping against your skin. You squirm under his touch, lifting your hips to help him pull the flimsy garment down your legs and toss it to the side. Heeseung sucks in a breath sharply when he sees your exposed cunt—despite already having seen it before, and you feel a rush of pride at the fact that you still have this effect on him. “So pretty,” he murmurs, eyeing your folds hungrily. 

Heeseung works on your clit expertly, thumb rubbing against the nub, eliciting a loud moan from you. He licks a stripe up your folds, grinning when your hand automatically finds itself in his hair again. When he finds you’re wet enough, he slides a finger in. You inhale sharply, hole clenching around the digit. He circles his thumb around your clit once more, before sliding another finger in.

You gasp at that, tightening the hand in his hair. Heeseung leans forward, swiping at your clit with his tongue one more time and pulling both his fingers out at the same time. He relishes in the sounds coming out of your mouth, feeling proud that you’re not trying to hide anything from him. You’re completely under his mercy, as is he when it comes to you.

He slides both the fingers back in, hissing when your walls contract against them, pumping the digits in and out a few more times. The way you moan—because of him—makes him finger your hole faster, enjoying the way your moans increase in pitch. When he sees your eyes beginning to cloud over, Heeseung quickly withdraws his fingers. You whimper at the loss of his touch and he chuckles. “Patience, baby. Don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Your head falls back on the pillow and you mutter a string of incoherent words under your breath. “Look at me,” Heeseung tuts.

You lift up your neck curiously. Heeseung waits for your eyes to land on his lips before he slowly, deliberately puts his two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and licking your juices off. He doesn’t fail to notice the way you bite your lip at the sight.

Once he pulls his fingers out, Heeseung bends down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you even gonna fuck me, Hee?” you grit out, and his eyes widen.

“Call me that again,” he orders. 

“Fuck me, Hee.” Your voice is borderline a whimper, and, well—who is Heeseung to prevent you from getting what you desire? After all, he’s always been a little weak when it comes to you.

He gets on his knees, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. He pumps it a few times, groaning softly, before positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re on the pill?”

“Yes.” You nod almost desperately, waiting for him to slide it all the way in.

Heeseung enters you slowly—the pace is almost unbearable—but he shudders when he feels your walls against his dick. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. A loud moan escapes your lips when he jerks his hips forward, his cock pressing into your cervix. Your eyes screw shut, and Heeseung grunts, pulling out and thrusting back inside with more force. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his hips, granting him more access to your hole and allowing him to push himself deeper inside you.

He leans down and captures a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the pebbled bud. You gasp out moans wantonly, and it spurs him to thrust faster and faster inside you. He watches you fall apart on him, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips when your moans become interspersed with chants of his name. 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten and the muscles flex under your hold. Your cries reach a crescendo with one particularly sharp thrust; Heeseung can tell your climax is approaching.

He speeds up, pumping into you with as much strength as he can muster. Your nails leave white-hot trails along his back, his shoulders—you try to hold onto him as best as you can. You cry for more, beg him to keep going. A bit redundant, in his opinion—he has no plans of stopping until you’ve orgasmed. 

Heeseung thrusts into you one last time, throwing you over the edge. Your walls clench around his cock tightly, black stars floating in your vision as you cry out his name. He pumps into you weakly, letting you ride out your orgasm while chasing his own high. He buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, and when your walls tighten around him, he comes inside you, his movements coming to a pause. 

You stroke his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, both of you catching your breaths. He remains sheathed in you, even as he pulls you onto your side so both your chests are touching. 

“Feel good?” he asks, one hand carding through your hair gently.

You let out a tired, but satisfied hum, smiling softly at Heeseung. 

You spend the night curled up in his arms. He sleeps soundly next to you, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and hands wrapped protectively around your figure. The steady thrum of his heartbeat sounds against your ear, and you smile, even in your sleep.

NINETEEN

“You have your thinking face on.” Your boyfriend saunters into the kitchen, a knowing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at him. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it too,” you say pointedly, waving your wooden spatula at him.

Heeseung chuckles, moving over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “What, that Sungchan and Minjeong are meant to be? That smells amazing, by the way, love.”

“Yes,” you huff out, stirring the soup inside the pot boiling on the stove. “And thank you.”

From the living room, you can hear your two friends laughing over something you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. Minjeong still lives in another city, but she comes over to visit whenever she can. You and Sungchan remain friends, and he often comes over whenever you, Heeseung and Minjeong decide to hang out—though, you suspect his enthusiasm to join you three has more to do with one particular person rather than the entire group.

“If you say so,” Heeseung agrees. “I think they’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at each other that way,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Really? I seem to recall him looking at you the exact same way not too long ago.”

“That’s different, Hee. Here, can you taste some? I don’t want it to be too salty.” Grabbing a large spoon, you dip it in the pot and offer it to Heeseung.

He obliges, letting you shove the spoonful into his mouth—and yelps almost immediately. “Ouch! You didn’t tell me it was hot.”

You only raise an eyebrow at him, but a small hint of amusement dances in your eyes. “How does it taste?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you but rests his chin on your shoulder; his hair tickles your ear. “It tastes amazing as always, love.”

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“I’m offended you think I would lie to you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you deadpan, and it makes Heeseung giggle.

“I’m serious, it tastes good.” He smiles at you, peeling himself away from you. “Let’s go join the other two.”

“Coming.” You put the stove on simmer and grab Heeseung’s extended hand. His fingers slot in between yours easily. Your lips curl upwards on their own accord, and your heart feels so full, it’s close to bursting.

You’re there, in a room with all your favourite people, and it’s perfect.

The very first night you and Heeseung broke up is pushed to the back of your mind, never to slip out of the corner you’ve tucked it into. The nights after made up for it, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You rebuild the promises you made and make new ones along the way.

You’d write it in the sky if you could, but you and Heeseung don’t need that. 

#heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #heeseung angst #enhypen angst #heeseung scenarios #enhypen scenarios #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enha smut #enha imagines #enha angst #enha scenarios #enha fanfiction #enhypen #heeseung

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

This is weird but could you do some headcanons of a MC reader who steals adopts one of those living plushies of the smiling critters (the ones who took over dog day) and keeps them like a pet dog and keeps them for the rest of the chapter

(It can be any of the critters, but preferably a Bobby bearhug)

Poppy: "What do you have there??"

You, with a Bobby Bearhug Critter on your shoulder: "Uh, a battery...?"

Yep, somehow you managed to tame one of the feral Smiling Critters you found within the playhouse.

Literally the only thing you did was throw some snacks at Bobby since she was 0.1 seconds away from eating your flesh....and she's followed you ever since like a pet.

She's advertised as the most lovable critter, and you wonder if part of that is why she's so friendly to you.

But you know she's really just hungry and would've ripped your face off if not for your quick reaction.

Still, Bobby stays with you even after fleeing from the other mini critters who took over Dogday's body, never leaving your side while venturing through the rest of Playcare.

You do stop to sew her eye back on properly and clean her heart necklace and fur, of course.

Poppy, Kissy, and even Ollie are confused as to how and why she's not aggressive towards you like the others are.

But hey, any ally you can get is good. No matter how bug or small.

She still has phrases she's programmed to repeat. Very generic stuff associated with her character like "I love you forever" and "I'm all yours".

But you wanna believe she genuinely means those things and wants to reassure you.

During the fight with Catnap, he tried taking Bobby away from you, seeing her as a "traitor" and creating hallucinations of her as a gigantic monster--but you're not deterred.

Once he's dead and gone, you take a moment to hug the little red bear tightly, relieved she was safe and free of his ruling..

Even after all these years, she still smells like roses.

#clanask #anonymous #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #poppy playtime spoilers #bobby bearhug #mini smiling critters #headcanons

[devotion]

there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

© devotion - reblog and comment if you enjoyed it! <3 however, do not repost, credited or not, on any other website or platform.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

[suguruplsr]

Pride and feelings aside…

Summary ✰ A mini story, in which, you happen to catch feelings for your fuck-buddy, Gojo Satoru, who just so happens to have a girlfriend you didn't know about until... however, someone's there to pick you up when you're falling. Geto Suguru.

,, gojo satoru x fem! reader x geto suguru , depictions of sexual/suggestive themes + scenes w/ alcohol usage , drug usage (not misused) , angst w/ no comfort.

wc: 3.1k

based on the song, 77 degrees, by Mariah the Scientist

+ full masterlist of “Seventy-seven degrees…”

tagging: @r0ckst4rjk @unmatchxd @chugao @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @fvsm4x @ivyshiyo @shadowfoxey @aliyalala @sexeyess @magalimachete @tokenblckgirl @melancholysanatomy @nekkobi @eumorele @polarbvnny @msmarklee1213 @mellow-mewow @qmsvpx @miauna @mwtsxri @ba-ks @slammynics

Dividers @/enchanthings

“satoru, fuck— right there!” honestly, there’s nothing like a late friday night, tipsy and high off a few edibles, and getting some good dick from your trusty friend, Gojo Satoru. as your hands travel along his broad shoulders, sheened with sweat under the moonlight, you realize why people fight to have this man. “yea sweetie? right here— ohhh look at you. f-fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight.” his form that towered over you pulls away, looking down at you with a slimy grin and throwing your legs over his shoulders while you squirm. “sorry baby. you ain’t cummin’ yet. wanna play with this pussy for as long as i can, before i go~”

you don’t know when it started, you were always just friends with him. hanging out with him and the rest of your little group consisting of shoko, suguru, kento, and haibara. young adults who party over the weekends and work boring jobs during the week while considering their future. kento and shoko already chose to start college, while satoru and suguru are planning on doing something together. best friends stuff. sometimes you wonder if they really just like each other and wanna live happily ever after.

you and haibara just so happened to apply at the same famous cafe downtown. so you’ve been working as a waitress with him as a server for the past few months.

but back to your.. relationship? nah, more like situationship. well, you wish you could call it that, maybe you don’t. that reminds you too much of him. but, you and satoru are just fuck buddies who got drunk together one day five months ago. him coming over to your new house with four good bottles of soju, which were mainly for you considering he couldn’t hold his liquor. but of course, little words of how pretty you’ve always been in his eyes spewed out, and.. in the heat of the moment,, you ended up kissing him.

and that was that.

there’s nights where you can taste the soju that was on his lips that day, thinking of him as your hands trail down to the straps of your panties. but nowadays, you don’t have to play with your clit and contemplate calling the pinned contact in your messages. cringy enough, a little, “u up?” text is enough for satoru to eagerly drive to your house before you can even think of sliding a finger in.

you look up at satoru as he teases your pussy, tip pulling in and out as he emits tiny murmurs out of you. he’s so handsome like this, and any other day. cerulean eyes focused on the gap of your hole, tongue sticking out a bit and his chest muscles flexing every time he’s pushed in just a slight bit more than the tip. then as usual, he fills you up to the hilt, both of you whining as he steals away your breath with a sloppy kiss. telling you how well you’re doing for him.

you almost wish you could experience this every night.

“turn a bit f’me sweetheart~” satoru coos. he was on your couch, legs crossed with a sweet smile on his face. he had taken you out shopping, saying that a girl like you deserves to be spoiled. having daddy’s money must be nice. rather than letting him go into the dressing rooms with you, risking him sneaking in and possibly getting you two in trouble, you decided to make him let you shop on your own, and promised him a show later. and later was now.

you turned to give him a tiny twirl, showing off the pink frilly dress. you hear him make a sound of amazement, “it’s that pretty?” “no.. well— yeah, but fuck. it’s you.” satoru groans, gesturing for you to come closer. you giggle, taking your place on his lap as his hands immediately move along your exposed thighs. “mm, yeah?” you purr, bringing a hand to his throat and encasing your fingers around it while your thumb tilts his chin up to you. you love watching how he visibly folds, adjusting you in his lap with a bite of his lip.

“for sure hun. you make me wanna rip it off you, maybe even fuck you in it. so beautiful.” he hums, hand breaching the area of your heat. his fingers pull the strings of your matching lace, making you pinch his neck when he snaps it. you could feel your blood rush around your body, flustered from his pure awe. “this one feels new..” and you huff, cute eyes looking up at him with ridicule. “you can’t even see it!” but satoru only gives you that charming smile, glasses tilting with the move of his head. “but i will later, yea?” and you roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your smile as he kisses the corner of your mouth. “yea..”

you part with a kiss placed on his jaw, strutting away to try on the dozen other outfits you bought. all for him to see. you did purposely buy a few that you knew he’d like, like a few summer dresses. and of course, white lingerie underneath to top it off. you just love the attention he gives you, giving you the feeling as if you’re on top of the world. you wish you knew how to make it stay like that.

the night ended like always, your arms around his neck while he thrusted inside you with low murmurs and grunts that circled around the room. but you couldn’t help but notice his phone went off more than usual.

not any of your business though.

it’s nothing like going to a nice bar during a random hot summer night in late june, hanging out with your friends as a little catch up and drinking together. until everyone’s swallowing in their own thoughts and wandering about the place while you sit and watch.

“you two are close.” suguru hums, taking a sip of his beer while you watch satoru talk to another girl, all happy and comfortable, maybe an old ‘friend’, from the way she casually places a kiss below his jaw. your spot. you don’t know why the bubbling feeling in your chest wasn’t quelled with three cans of beer, but keeping your eyes on the white haired man and his interactions didn’t help in the slightest.

with a disappointing sigh, you turn to suguru, who gave you his signature smile, head tilted on his palm and giving you a look that would’ve made you shy away. in the past at least. “obvious?”

“for sure.”

“fuck.” you groan turning around on the barstool, facing the bar and stealing one of shoko’s shots, making her scoff with a, “what the hell?”. to which you smile sheepishly in return, the taste of vodka blooming on your lips while you’re already sliding your purse to her so she can fish out some money for her next drink.

“reminded me of us. you’re so damn selfish.”

suguru quips lowly, dark eyes studying the way your eyes narrow, glancing over to him before looking at the dark brown wood of the bar table. “yea? well i clearly haven’t lost that trait, messing with you two…” you shrug, making him chuckle. “i’d say you have a type, well.. if you weren’t going for someone as mediocre as satoru. no offense sweetheart, but don’t get your hopes up. especially when he’s attached to her.” suguru gives you a pat on the back, letting the warmth of his hand linger before walking away.

you don’t even care to ponder over his last sentence, you're sure it’ll come to you later in life. you just wish you had said something in return, wanting to prove that handsome idiot wrong. but the way satoru comes back to you with marks of that woman’s lipstick shining on his neck proves you wrong. you really shouldn’t get your hopes up, but perhaps you wish this was some romantic story where he’s just trying to make you jealous.

and not you falling down an empty rabbit hole.

“you clearly had fun.” you point out, gesturing to the fresh hickies laying along satoru’s neck. they weren’t yours, considering you haven’t seen him much lately. after maybe a week of texting and a few nudes, he had finally come over. talking about the restaurant he took his ‘friend’ to.

a look of.. guilt? takes over his expression, turning his head away on the other side of your pillow and humming. “yeah i guess.. nothing special though. not like you.” and you roll your eyes, smiling though, as you slap his bare chest, climbing on top of him and dragging your palm around his chest. “oh really? why should i believe that? if we were really special you’d..” you pause when you see his brows furrow, as if he’s expecting your next words.

touchy subject huh? you two must not be as close you thought you were.

but the look of disbelief in his eyes makes you throw it all away in your little wishing well. a well full of things satoru makes your heart wish for. you try to brush it off, giving a sigh and leaning down to kiss him. “you really think we’re special?”

“you’re definitely special.”

it takes all your might to bite down the feeling in your throat as he flips you over. your heart probably exaggerated all those gestures, those rare soft moments, everything, that made you feel like you were on top of the world. like you were his world. you feel sick, but you’ll take what you can get.

so you try to devour all of him, taking every touch with all you can. you don’t have the strength to remind yourself that, this, you two, aren’t anything special. he’s doing this for his benefit so why not do the same. even if your wants differentiate from his.

it doesn’t hurt to dream.

you focus on the feelings of satoru’s lips on yours, both of your hands trying to undo each other's clothing, but you can feel the vibrations of his phone in his back pocket. “toru~ put it up.” you whine, pushy him away slightly and giving a look when he tries to chase your lips. “fine.” he sighs, pulling out said object and quickly taking a look at the notifications as he heads to your dresser.

you aren’t oblivious, and you aren’t stupid. you can see the way he smiles, genuinely even, standing still to respond to what you think is a message.

it could be anyone, you remind yourself.

you make an exaggerated sound from your spot on your bed, making him put away the device, and looking over to you. a bothered look flashes over his eyes before he lifts his shirt up. “sorry to keep ya waiting sweets.” satoru grins, moving closer and placing a hand on your neck while you move closer to the pair of gray sweats in front of you.

“s’okay. jus’ wanna suck on y’r cock.” you sigh, emitting a laugh from him while you get to work pulling down the pants.

you couldn’t let him fuck you that night with how uncomfortable you felt. the look— no, glare. he gave you, even if it was only a split second, felt like you were intruding on something when it was the other way around. like a look of distaste.

when you told him you were too tired for anything extra, he placed a kiss on your cheek, immediately tidying himself up before heading out. the satoru you knew would never do that, unless he made sure you were feeling okay and begging to have a taste of you, maybe even staying the night.

fuck, you feel so dry you might just have to call him. for old times sake. you hate how troubled you are by your unrequited love.

satoru barely comes over now, and if he does, it’s for a quickie. which, of course, is the point of your “relationship”. but satoru had never made it feel like that's all it was. like there was a possibility for more than you two just digging in each other's pants.

but now, either he doesn’t respond or he’s busy. normal adult stuff, you get it. you shouldn’t be crying as you sip your glass of whine, sitting lonely at your dining table after satoru told you he’d be here.

something came up.

is what he told you. you even responded in that same minute, getting nothing in response while you wallow in your shame and disappointment. it shouldn’t hurt but it really fucking does. you wish you didn’t ruin the friendship. you wish so badly.

you’re probably just every other enjoyment in life for him, something he’ll use when he wants and throws away when he wants.

how fucked up of a situation could this be?

“i think we should stop seeing each other. if you know what i mean.” it’s 10 pm when satoru shows up at your door, unexpectedly and catching you off guard. it’s your second pity party after three weeks of no communication with him. three weeks since you had accepted you caught feelings for the daring heart throb of japan.

“oh yeah— totally. not like we really were.” you shrug, fighting back the feeling of bile in your throat. the expression on satoru’s face lets you know you hit the spot, making his nod awkwardly and wave. “i guess ill go now.”

you close the door shut, maybe slammed, grabbing your cold bottle of water on the table in your living room as you travel through your house to your bathroom. why did you have to see his face, why did you have to see the way he dressed up so nicely, probably coming back from a date with that ‘friend’.

you know.

you remember every single detail of his face, it wasn’t hard to notice the smudge of red lipstick on his lips.

you put the tablet flat on your tongue, swallowing it and taking a big gulp of water all in one go. the sick feeling throughout your body slowly dissipates as you stand over the sink, looking at the running water in trance.

what a fool you are, huh? falling for someone who was meant to only make you feel good. that’s just a recipe for disaster.

you don’t know how long you stayed in there, gripping your counter as tears slowly slipped down your face while you fell to your knees.

today was a hectic day, business was bustling and there were lots of people coming in the cafe for the fall themed items. like pumpkin spice latte, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie, etc. the aroma flowing through the place was even better, you’ll have to ask your boss what she may have sprayed before opening. but maybe it’s just the food.

however, seeing a few families or couples smile, the joyful mood flowing around as the hot summer slowly ended, groups of teens coming in to hang out before school starts back up. all of it felt nice. like a nice view of what your life could be if you weren’t some depressed woman who had nothing to show.

you sigh, grabbing your notepad and walking out from the back of the cafe. you just needed a tiny mental breather, too overstimulated with the many people. you never know how to explain it, like claustrophobia without literally experiencing it.

but you just leave it to your mind and senses just feeling overwhelmed. you’ll have time to take your daily pill later.

as you head to a ready table, your mind halts while your body strays to the table. the tufts of white hair, and blue eyes that locked onto you made the peace in your body waver. why was he here? maybe he came to check up on you? not like he doesn’t know where you work.

oh how wrong you are.

“how may i take your order?” your voice breaks, coughing a bit and playing it off as a minor issue when the woman in front of satoru gives you a look of concern, so sweet, and you feel like you recognize her. “hey y/n. i know you’re busy right now so i’ll introduce you to her later, im not sure if you two had met before, hehe. but we’ll have…” your smile is forced, the grip on your pen only getting stronger as you recognize the pet names he calls her, names he used to give you.

but with how casually he says them, maybe she was first.

the satoru you knew doesn’t even introduce or take out girls unless he’s dating them. which means this is clearly a new sight for you.

you don’t remember anything after they left, too caught up in your whirlwind of heartbreak and confusion to focus on anything other than getting through your shift. which led to you now, crying in your car right after work. you just needed to let it out.

better than crying on your way home and risking an accident.

satoru seemed happy with her, he really did. a tension between them that you never had with him. the woman was even sweet enough to tip you big simply for being her boyfriend’s friend. you don’t have the courage to dislike her, not when you were shamelessly looking over at her boyfriend with eyes full of want and desperation.

but of course he didn’t notice.

if only you didn’t fuck up the friendship, maybe you were just in a different light to him, compared to her. maybe you would’ve had the chance to showcase all of you to him, rather than the rough intimacy within the confines of your bedroom. fuck, you’re stupid.

how the hell are you supposed to show you love someone when you two are just having sex to cure your sexual needs. that’s like begging for a disaster to happen.

hearing a knock on the passenger side of your tinted window, you quickly shuffle to put the yellow bottle of pills in your armrest box. you take a look at yourself in the mirror, taking note of your puffy red eyes.

you hope it’s some stranger who doesn’t care about your wellbeing.

wiping your face, you roll down the window, greeted with the sight of a nihilistic smile and dark gold eyes that scan your form with a scoff. “unlock the door princess. not gonna let you get all sappy over some pretty boy who's missin’ out on someone like you.”

#jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jjk x fem! reader #jjk x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo angst #gojo and geto #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #stsg fic #gojo satoru #gojo smut #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk satoru

[avocado-writing]

Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3

oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence

Astarion

stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground

you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?

”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.

he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight

tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌

Wyll

we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship

you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively

when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword

you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!

you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏

Gale

we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.

you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.

so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him

“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”

gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.

Karlach

is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol

roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf

she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”

”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”

her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss

“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”

Shadowheart

you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol

you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens

“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips

“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting

does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌

Lae’zel

“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”

she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.

has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops

afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️

Halsin

you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.

he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.

you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite

always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!

plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕

Minthara

her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.

you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword

you can’t help the words falling from your lips.

she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:

”good.”

#shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x reader #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #lae’zel x reader #lae’zel x tav #Wyll x reader #wyll x tav #wyll ravengard x reader #Wyll ravengard x tav #minthara x tav #minthara x reader #My writing #request

[bomber-grl]

Cuddle/Sleep Headcanons 💤🌙

Pairing(s): characters x Gn!reader

Character(s): Percy, Jason, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Calypso, Ethan, Nico, Octavian, Reyna

Percy Jackson

He’s a horrible sleeper

I mean sure, you can sleep and cuddle like the couple you are

However, that doesn’t stop him from sleeping wildly

Limbs sprawled all over the freaking place and the only reason you know is because of the concerning amount of times you’ve woken up under some of them

To make it worse?

He’s a blanket hogger

He doesn’t rlly hog it in the sense that he steals it all

I mean he does, but he sorta just slides off the bed and takes the rest of the blanket with him

The urge to just 🔫

But yea 😞

Nice to cuddle with but not to sleep with sorry not sorry

6/10

Jason Grace

Kinda stiff ngl

Like damn bitch, you live like this?

Plus he sleeps on his back face up 😭😭😭

Like wtf Jason

Are u ok?

In terms of actually cuddling, he’s pretty good

His arms are firm and his hugs are tight yet comforting

Plus he smells pretty good

Like no joke

I’d kinda see you sleeping on his chest since bro sleeps on his back

It’s nice but the stiffness is not appreciated 🙅

Atleast he’s not a blanket hogger and he’s quite considerate with the blankets and stuff

So

8/10

Leo Valdez

He sleeps two different ways

The first way is pretty compacted

What I mean is, he sleeps he sleeps bundled up by the blanket in a blanket burrito

The other one is where he sleeps sprawled out, limbs all over the place, blanket discarded

Just like Percy

So when he’s in a blanket burrito best believe he’s taking you with him

He usually does this during winter because he naturally runs hot

Anyway, he pulls you in and kinda bundled the blanket around you two for you guys to cuddle and be as close as possible

But when he’s sprawled out with his limbs everywhere he likes to cuddle with you on top of him

That or you’re abused and crushed by him in your sleep

Plus yknow how he runs hot? Well it’s absolute hell

It’s so hot and honestly suffocating when he’s sleeping on you 💀

Throw him on the ground pls

Ima rate him a 7/10 cuz he ain’t bad and if anything I love him so 🤷

Frank Zhang

He’s the best

Sorta…

He’s obviously huge so

He fully embraces you and hugs you so it’s pretty comfortable

And he sleeps on his side or stomach so there’s plenty of room

Even if he’s a bit stiff he’s still pretty nice to cuddle with

He’s pretty considerate on how you like to sleep/cuddle

He likes holding you so he’s not that picky

Honestly nothing to complain about with him

Except for one thing…

You can’t tell me this guy doesn’t fart 😐

I’m sorry but he just gives me those vibes

And it’s so bad

And not even on purpose either

It just happens but it’s the most traumatic thing ever

He feels pretty bad too 😭

Also when y’all are sleeping you just end up on different sides of the bed

He’s just casually on top of the blanket and you can’t even pull it from under him

You’re left shivering in the cold

Hazel Levesque

I love her 🫶

I see her sleeping on her sides and stomach tbh

She’s so sweet too

She loves to cuddle with you and even tho she doesn’t rlly have a firm grip she still likes to hold you

She especially likes to sleep on you

Either on your chest or just cuddled up to you

And she smells pretty sweet

Like clean laundry too like lawd

But ofc there’s gotta be some downsides

There’s isn’t really none with her, but with you

You end up stealing the blankets and hazel wakes up mad and cranky

That’s all and she quickly forgives you

Annabeth Chase

Sleeps on her back or side

She doesn’t really like cuddling all that much

She prefers to have some space and stuff when she sleeps

But if you want, she’s open to cuddling

She loves to both be held and to hold you

Mostly it’s mutual holding

Plus she probably sleeps with the fan on

Idk how to explain it

If you’re the type to always talk during night time then she’d react differently

Like if you gotta sleep asap cuz of the mission and all you do is yap

Then she’s turning her back on you and ignoring

What a meanie

At least she apologizes the next day but still

I don’t rlly see her stealing the blanket or anything but she is pretty stiff

Like besides hugging and stuff she lowkey just lets you hug her when she doesn’t feel like moving

Mood

Also since she smells good ofc ur gon sniff and she’ll be weirded out and ignore u this way too 😞

Piper McLean

She sleeps anyway tbh

She pretty cuddly and likes to snuggle w you

She usually likes to be held, but either way is fine

Especially after a fight or exhausting time with monsters

She’ll hold you in her arms too

She smells pretty nice and if you say so?

Well she finds it endearing

Unlike a certain someone

*cough cough* annabeth

But yea she’s the best

But she won’t hesitate to kick you out if you refuse to share the blanket

She gets enough crap from Leo

Who is just constantly annoying her

Calypso

The best

Like she fr loves to cuddle

With everything she’s been through best believe she’s the best cuddler

Honestly she sleeps whatever way

She’s another who loves to be held and to hold others

Especially if you’re hurt or anything

Then she’s try and tend to you

Even in sleep

Most times she’s a small spoon

She’s loved so many people who never loved her back

So perhaps she’s just a tad bit touch starved

And would obviously give in to any affection

As previously mentioned she loves to hold you too

Mostly just having you lean on her shoulder or lay on her lap but it also extends to cuddling on occasion

She’ll have you lay on her chest and in her arms and play with your hair

Ethan Nakamura

He’s so stiff it’s painful

(Not actually)

He’s definitely loyal, the books show that much

So despite his personal feelings with touch (he’s no doubt another touch starved person) he’d like to cuddle with you nonetheless

Not much in the beginning but he’d definitely warm up to you

And in the process, realize how much he wants it

He’ll let you love him however you want (cuddle him) and let you play with his hair

Which he loves

Eventually he gets enough courage to reciprocate

But he’s still stiff

Not the best when hugging or cuddling you because of how flustered he gets

Once you two go to bed and he falls asleep, he gets pretty subconsciously protective so he’ll hold you tight

Nico Di Angelo

Yes

Just yes

He loves to cuddle never made it obvious before tho

Another who was pretty stiff and touch starved

He gets over it quickly when he sees what you have to offer

I mean usually he just sleeps bundled up under the blankets, engulfed by their warmth

But with you there he just pulls you under the blankets with him so you can cuddle that way

Is mostly just mutual holding

He mostly just liked to intertwine your legs or hold onto you like a koala

I see him as a blanket stealer when you’re not glued together

He’s either super sleepy or not at all

When he’s tired he just drags you to bed, since that’s the only time nightmares don’t plague him

But when hes suffering from his insomnia he likes it when you stay up and talk with him

Idk to him it feels intimate but if you choose to go to bed, he won’t take it personally

If you play with his hair he won’t admit it but he loves it

Octavian

Ew.

Sorry I hate him but seeing that you’re here, you probs love him

So let’s get this over w

He’s rlly long and lanky and boney

Doesn’t stop yall from cuddling tho ig

And like a weirdo he sleeps on his back, arms to his side, head facing upward

Honestly probably obsessed with you

Only way he’d cuddle/ be in a relationship with you

He’s probably never been touched by another person

So he definitely likes to be held

Plus the bastard is selfish

And he doesn’t hold you

😐…

Yea so 1/10

I’m being generous

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano

I love her 😭🫶🫶

Yea she probs love you so ofc she’s gonna cuddle w u

Often times she’s busy with the duties of praetor so she can’t cuddle 😞

But it’s ok cuz when she can it’s the best

Not only is she holding you and making you feel cared after

But she also plays with your hair

Also you have to hold her

I don’t make the rules, just look at her, she needs it

When you do she’s a bit put off

But eventually she lets you coddle her

So more often than not she’s little spoon and comfortable

Just like she deserves

Yes beautiful

9/10

————————-

Note: I just realized Reyna is a hunter now idk why I even wrote hers 😭 maybe pre-hunter Reyna or lesbian Reyna??? Idk man

#fanfic #gn reader #male reader #female reader #fluff headcanons #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson fandom #percy pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #jason grace x reader #leo valdez x female reader #leo valdez x male reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez pjo #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader #hazel levesque #hazel levesque x reader #annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #octavian pjo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #calypso #piper mclean x reader

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo #gojo x you #satoru #satoru x reader #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader