#he comes back to us now at the turn of the tide

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde

warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!

soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 

It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.

The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 

He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.

The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.

Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.

Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.

When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.

"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.

If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.

Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.

Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.

But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 

You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.

Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 

"I don't know how to, Dan."

"But you do," she insists.

And she's right. Of course you do. 

His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.

Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.

Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.

Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.

The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.

And yet he does, each and every time.

He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.

You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.

You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.

It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.

"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.

"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."

Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 

He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 

Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 

You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 

Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.

He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.

Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 

Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.

All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.

It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.

You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.

Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 

Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 

Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 

You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.

"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.

Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."

That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 

After all, if you can't go back? 

Go forward.

"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."

"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.

You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 

"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.

The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 

"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."

"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.

Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  

The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 

You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.

It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 

The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 

The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 

Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.

It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.

Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"

You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 

"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."

"A glowing review."

"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"

Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"

"Fuck knows."

It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 

And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.

The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.

Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.

But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 

Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 

If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?

You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 

Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.

It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 

You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 

See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.

Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.

One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 

For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 

All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.

There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 

When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 

It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.

JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?

You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.

You: Just wondering how the kids are <3

Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.

JustJK:  Missing their mother. 

JustJK:  Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.

JustJK:  Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.

JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3

With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 

You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.

You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3

There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.

JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.

JustJK:  You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.

JustJK:  Haven't even paid them a visit!!!

Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.

You:  You've got full custody!!!

JustJK:  And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!

JustJK:  smh and to think you call yourself their mother.

JustJK: I'm their mother now.

You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 

You:  They need me :(

JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.

You:  Tomorrow?

He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.

Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.

JustJK:  I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?

You:  Will Perry the Pigeon be there?

JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.

It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 

It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 

Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.

Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.

Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 

For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.

Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.

And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.

You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.

JustJK:  Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.

You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.

JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.

JustJK:  I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.

Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 

Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.

But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.

You're laughing as you send it.

And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 

"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 403: (But Just That One Part, Because I'm Not Caught Up)

Previously on BnHA: Truly no idea, but it kind of looks like Katsuki is riding some sort of spaceship, and everyone has gotten really, really sparkly. I see you all have been busy these past 22 months. Great job, keep it up.

Today on BnHA: “So it’s come to my attention that a truly shocking number of you are only reading this manga for a single character.” – Horikoshi Kouhei, October 2023.

so. where to start, lol

I guess I should open with an apology, because I am about to make a fairly selfish decision! what I am about to do, is post a reaction to Bakugou’s Return To The Manga. however, because I’m not caught up, I’m going to be reading this one scene completely out of context without knowing anything about what is going on. which means that I’m going to be missing out on god knows how many nuances and details, which means this reaction post will be short on those things as well. so basically I’m prioritizing my own personal gratification as a fan here even though it is 100% going to affect the quality of my reaction blog, and for that I genuinely am sorry. eventually I will finish catching up, and when that happens I will post a proper reaction with all the trimmings. that’s just how it is for now though

anyway so with that said, basically what I’ve done now is I have gone to the scanlation website, and clicked on chapter 403, and then scrolled down through most of the chapter while sort of half-looking away from my screen with my eyes squinted so that everything is mostly blurry, until I finally reached the big double-page spread with you-know-who doing his thing. namely, standing around on this giant glowy cereal bowl from the future, which appears to be either hovering up in the air, or slowly crashing onto the ground

and this right here, is exactly what I was rambling on about a moment ago. you guys I really am sorry to be doing this, because even I can tell this should be solemn and sincere moment of awe and excitement and relief. but because I completely lack any context whatsoever for wtf is happening, most of the dramatic impact is lost on me, and to tell the truth right now this page is a hell of a lot funnier than it has any right to be

like, so Deku. this boy is crying all the tears. I recklessly scrolled back up one page to see why, and it appears the answer is Because All Might Is About To Fucking Die (which, !??!?), so that’s actually VERY fucked up, and I’m sure I will have PAGES AND PAGES OF WORDS to say about all of that once I finally catch up properly. that is very traumatic and emotional and I will probably cry a lot about it

BUT, that being said, I just need you guys to know that without that context, Deku standing here with his giant head all >:O in the foreground, while Kacchan appears out of nowhere glowing with the power of a thousand suns and standing on top of this giant floating Smash Bros level that Nezu maybe probably built with his nine million dollars, is one of the wildest fucking things I’ve seen in my life. I feel like an accidental time traveler. you know when a character has one of those crazy prophetic dreams showing them chaotic glimpses of the future, and they’re just standing there all “???” because they have absolutely no clue what the fuck is going on? that is what it’s like right now

heh but there he is

“did you miss me, Izuku. back by popular demand after being on IR for 14 goddamn months. rebuilt better and stronger than ever thanks to the heroic spaghetti man wrapped tightly around my heart keeping me alive. just BnHA things. just a flesh wound. by the way, it’s me, Kacchan, just in case you didn’t recognize me on account of my still being really far away and completely covered by smoke, and also you thinking I was dead. here let me give you a close up to make this easier”

“fuck yeah. it really is me, btw. just in case you still couldn’t tell on account of me also being like 100x prettier than you remembered. guess it’s just that blindingly handsome character development”

also, “the end of an era” um hello, yes, what?? just what exactly have I missed here with all this All Might stuff?? because apparently All Might just prior to this was in some sort of mortal danger, is what I’ve been hearing, because everyone keeps posting excitedly about Kacchan showing up in the nick of time to save him? which incidentally makes my heart so incredibly fucking warm omg. it’s what both of them need AND deserve

why is everything so goddamn sparkly right now. this is like a Sailor Moon battle over here

love that look of instant recognition and shock and overpowering relief in Deku’s eyes though. also has he really been fighting in this cracked out OFA-overflowing mode this entire time?? he looks just like he did on the cover of volume 37. I still haven’t seen his actual canon reaction to the “death”, and I haven’t been keeping tabs on his fight with AFO??/Tomura?? at all, but I’m glad it looks to have been as emotional as I could have hoped

aw fuck yeah

his precious card. I’m now almost as invested in the saga of the All Might card as I am in all the rest of this. it’s all beat to hell, but somehow still made it through in the end. just like him

oh. my. g

protect them.

protect them all.

so is the reason this fight is so sparkly just because of OFA symbolism, then?? or is there something else happening here?? goddammit, okay, I‘m gonna very carefully scroll back to the beginning of the chapter, because I’m 100% positive there is some sort of deeply meaningful symbolic thing going on here and I’ll be damned if I miss out on it, spoilers or no

-- oh my goD??!

1. BABY ALL MIGHT WHAAAAAAT

IS THAT HIS MOM???? OH MY GOD DID WE GET ALL MIGHT BACKSTORY. oh my god. oh god. no actually don’t tell me, ahhhh I cannot fucking wait to read this properly, holy shit

so did something wind up happening to Mighty Mom later on then?? feels like it must have, since he wound up getting so attached to Nana? man I don’t want to think about any of that stuff after seeing this panel though :( just, damn it, why is this man’s whole entire life so goddamn fucking tragic

“the one thing I’ve done most is looking back to the path I took” my god I cannot wait to read this. only two short pages and I’m already buried miles deep into my All Might feels. came here for the triumphant Kacchan return and now I’m sitting here tearing up about All Might, god damn you Horikoshi YOU’VE STILL GOT IT. and I am STILL A SUCKER FOR ALL OF IT

anyway, so now back we go to the last couple of pages with this additional context, aaaaand...

...and apparently I’m now full-on crying about All Might! (: well how about that. turns out when you read the manual and follow the instructions properly this series still works exactly as advertised. don’t mind me I’m just sitting here sobbing because everything is exactly what I wanted and I apparently don’t know how to deal with that!!

THEIR FEELINGS BECOME WHAT?!?!?!

EVERYTHING IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED AND I’M GONNA BE A MESS ABOUT IT FROM NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME BECAUSE LIFE IS GRAND!!

ARE ALL OF THESE WATERY SPARKLES LIKE. DEKU’S FUCKING TEARS LMAO OR WHAT. HOW IS KACCHAN IN THE SPLASH ZONE. HOW ARE HIS TEARS HOLDING UP THE SPACESHIP. I DON’T UNDERSTAND A GODDAMN THING BUT THIS IS NOW OFFICIALLY A SHOUJOU MANGA, I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

the urge to ruffle baby Deku and baby Kacchan’s hair is so goddamn powerful you don’t understand. this is PRIMAL. they are SO happy and SO good and perfect. I’m gonna fucking die

there’s not even any dialogue. what the fuck are they even gonna say. their expressions say it all and more. also they are being kind to me because they know I’m not caught up so they don’t want to spoil me any further, thank you my sons

lastly, I guess, because I don’t really have anything else to add now that my brain has fully turned to sappy mush: so uh. I truly have not the slightest clue how or why, but. does Kacchan have OFA though. and why is the answer, “yes he definitely does.” ???

like, I don’t understand it, but I confess that by now I have spoiled myself on the last few pages of chapter 362 for reasons (those reasons being “I finally gave in and looked at them on purpose, because I’d already seen most of them out of context here and there, and my willpower is only so strong”), and so I know that this boy was talking to vestige!Might, and as far as I’m aware that is 100% not possible unless he has some sort of connection to OFA in some way so yeah

and now here he on this last page being all Profoundly Connected with Deku while they gaze into each other’s eyes, and I can’t help but notice that said eyes are all explodey and they look a LOT like Deku’s actually. and on top of that we have all of this All Might symbolism that I’m still crying about, so like? ???

anyway so I’m not going crazy here right? like this is definitely a thing? for whatever reason?? unless you guys know something here that I don’t. in which case I actually am asking to be spoiled fully just this once, because at this point I just need to know one way or the other and I don’t care lol

anyway so that concludes my thoughts I guess! so now my absurdly ambitious goal is to speed read the manga this next week and hopefully at least catch up to Kacchan’s “death”, so that I can better understand what’s happening when I inevitably wind up spoiling myself for chapter 404 as well. the plan right now is to still type up my liveblog notes as I go, but to not worry about posting or editing anything in between chapters. so I’ll have a big backlog of chapter recaps which I’ll eventually get to uploading whenever I can, but in the meantime I can participate more in the fandom side of things. since I really want to share all of my endgame theories and so forth, but in order to do that I really need to find out just what the fuck is actually going on lol, so yeah

#bnha 403 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #all might #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I see your bakugou katsuki: rising #and raise you one bakugou katsuki: risen #he comes back to us now at the turn of the tide

[pprodsuga]

tides of regret | heeseung

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

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

deep cuts: #1

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

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

masterlist

Incheon feels lonely at three in the morning. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “I wore layers.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you?” 

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” he mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long was I out?”

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

“Sorry for sleeping on you,” Jake apologizes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you insist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

“Chicken or beef?” 

Heeseung looks at you, expecting an answer.

“Hm?”

He laughs softly. “Chicken or beef?” 

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

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

“Beef.” You clear your throat. 

“Beef it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I guess they can.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can already hear Jake whining about it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

“That’s not fair,” Jake huffs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” Sunoo asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still love books?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you talk to your college friends often?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leo!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, you sound perfect already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How else am I going to blackmail you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What makes you say that?” 

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

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

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

“Sweet girl,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard you that night,” Sunghoon confesses. 

“What are you talking about?” 

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

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

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

There’s a beat of silence. 

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did the guys think?”

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

“Did his opinion change?” 

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“Wow…I didn’t know Jay said that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But do you want that?” 

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

Satisfied with your answer, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?” 

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

You stand there, dumbfounded. “Huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon laughs and you know what he means. 

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

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

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

You shiver. “Me too.” 

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did you leave me?” 

His heart shatters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really hurt me.” 

He glances down. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Under the covers, silly.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung laughs. “That you are.”

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We could always order in. I’ll pay.”

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

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

“I’m assuming you two talked?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of you particularly care to do any sightseeing today. It feels nice to walk side-by-side without the company of your other friends. The juxtaposition of how you felt towards the beginning of this trip compared to how relaxed you feel surprises you a tenfold, but you suppose that comes with genuine apologies and forgiveness. 

You’re willing to admit Heeseung looks criminally good in black jeans and a striped button down. He wears his clothes so effortlessly yet still looks like he could’ve taken his wardrobe from a magazine. You’ve always found it a bit unfair that Heeseung always manages to look so cool without trying too hard. 

“You’re staring,” he mutters, looking at you from the corner of his eye as the two of you walk down a cobblestone street. 

“I’m not,” you lie. You turn your head to avoid his gaze, but Heeseung thinks he likes seeing you this shy. It’s new territory for him, one that he wants to explore. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Why did you forgive me so quickly?” Heeseung asks. “I appreciate it, I really do, but a big part of me feels like I don’t deserve that just yet.” 

It takes you a while to answer. Why did you forgive him as fast as you did? For a week and a half, being in close quarters with Heeseung made you feel nothing but anxious and on edge, so why were you able to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him?

“I’ve always held onto the idea that you’re a good person,” you begin. “I’ve always admired that you intend to care for the people you love and make them feel like they have a place in your life. You’ve always made me feel safe, like I could run to you when things got too hard. 

“What you did was in poor taste, sure, but making bad decisions doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I know you, Hee. I know how you get when you’re faced with a difficult choice and how long it takes for you to come around. I was justifiably hurt but I think a part of me always knew you’d fix it somehow.” 

“I wish I could feel deserving of that kind of forgiveness.” 

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t feel like what I’m saying is true. I’ll admit that I shocked myself with how quickly I let my guard down with you…but you’re Heeseung. You've been my best friend since the first grade and you’re the boy I happen to have a really big crush on.” 

Heeseung bites his lips at your confession, willing himself not to be too forward as to kiss you in the middle of the street. He sees your bravery and the way you’ve put your heart directly in the palm of his hand, acting out of vulnerability even though the both of you knew he hurt you once before. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, Heeseung grabs your hands and locks his fingers with yours, squeezing three times to tell you he loves you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The afternoon comes and goes with little to no plan. Heeseung’s a bit worried that he hasn’t heard anything from the boys and he’s rendered shocked that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let the day take you where it may instead of finding the next spot to visit. 

As if on cue, Jay texts him with plans for the evening. 

jjongcaprio: 20:00, Pétrelle. It’s a five minute walk from the hotel

jjongcaprio: I made reservations for you and Y/N tonight. Don’t worry about me and the boys, just take her out on a romantic date 

jjongcaprio: The bill’s covered. The reservation’s under your name btw

heeseung: bro i cannot ask you to do this 

jjongcaprio: You don’t have to. You and I both know Y/N deserves to be wined and dined 

jjongcaprio: Plus I saw you looking at a few restaurants when we were on the train. I managed to pull some strings for you and got a last minute reservation for tonight

heeseung: thank you jay…i really don’t know what i’d do without you

jjongcaprio: It’s really not a problem, bro. Promise me that you’ll try to be happy with her. The guys and I are rooting for you two

“So,” Heeseung clears his throat as he looks up from his phone, “I think you and I should go out for dinner.” 

“Where are you thinking of going? I can text the others and see if they’re done sightseeing, or whatever it is they’re doing.”

“I mean just us two.” He stands awkwardly when you’ve turned your attention to him, his feet planted on the sidewalk beneath him as if that’ll help steady his beating heart. 

“Like a date?” 

“Yes,” he says immediately. “Like I date. I, Heeseung, am asking you out on a date. Tonight. At eight.” 

“I, Y/N, would love to go on a date with you. At eight.” 

The twinkle in your eye and your coy nature makes him feel like a teenager again. He leads you into the hotel and walks you to your door before stepping back as you step inside. 

“We’ve got an hour and a half before we need to leave. I’ll come by and then we can walk together. The restaurant is only a five minute walk, so you can wear those new heels I know you feel guilty buying.” 

“They’re really pretty though,” you rationalize. 

Heeseung nods. “Gorgeous, actually. Maybe you’ll be as tall as me if you wear them.” 

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” 

Heeseung bites his bottom lip as you disappear behind the door, locking eyes with you until you’re completely out of sight. Flirting with you like this is a completely new phenomenon for him. He’s only daydreamed about what you might say if he said something a little too suggestive or how you might act if he dedicated a wink in your direction. Heeseung had never considered that he’d be the one flustered, cheeks reddening to the point where he starts to feel shy. 

His nerves are endless as he picks out an outfit for tonight. Heeseung sends a quick text to his parents, who had pressured him into bringing nice clothes for a fancy dinner, and spends a few minutes updating them on the events of the past few days. His mother is pleased, to put it lightly, and sends a handful of emoticons to display her happiness. His father tells him words of encouragement before making Heeseung promise to bring you for dinner as his girlfriend, not just his best friend. 

With the last touch of his cologne, Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror and tries not to think too hard about how he looks. You’re Y/N, his best friend since he can remember, and you’ve seen him with snot dripping from his nose. 

“I look fine,” he says to himself in the mirror. “Y/N will like the look because your mom picked it out and we know those two agree on everything. Absolutely nothing to worry about.” 

Heeseung’s only regret is he doesn’t have a bouquet of flowers to present you with as he makes his way to your hotel room. He wipes his palms on his trousers and takes a deep breath before knocking on your door. 

When it opens, he’s met with the sight of you in a short black dress that hugs your hips to accentuate your body. The dress itself is an elegant, spaghetti strap number with a flattering neckline paired with jewelry that makes your skin appear to be glowing. Your heels match well with the dress you’ve chosen, so much so that Heeseung’s jaw drops when his eyes rake over your body. 

“Wow,” he mutters. “Just…wow.” 

“I’m not used to you being speechless,” you say mildly, closing the door behind you. 

“You look gorgeous,” he sputters. “I shouldn’t be seen with you tonight.” 

“You’re dramatic, Hee.” You give him a once over and Heeseung thinks he wouldn’t mind you checking him out as you please. “You look handsome as ever.”

He beams at the compliment and holds his arm out for you. 

“Shall we?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows the type of person you are and what you value, yet he still renders himself shocked when you allow him to take control of the evening. He knows you don’t need to have the expensive consequences that come with a first date or to be sipping the most luxurious wine to be happy, but Heeseung can’t help but feel like you deserve to feel as elegant as you look every once in a while. 

The host leads the two of you to a table with the most gorgeous view of the Parisian scenery. The twinkling stars paired with the dimly lit restaurant adds a romantic touch to the evening. Heeseung mentally thanks Jay for preparing wine recommendations so neither of you have to think too much about it. 

For a moment, he’s worried that he’s reached too far out of his depth. The fanciest thing Heeseung has ever done with you is eat ramen after prom in your best outfits because you both came to the conclusion that prom should be spent with someone you actually like. It’s funny in hindsight when he thinks about it now. 

You look so beautiful like this, allowing yourself to be taken care of by him. Talking to you over the table feels like you’re back in Korea before all that transpired. The food is impeccable and Heeseung thanks his lucky stars that he and Jay got it right. You sing praises left and right. 

Dinner ends much quicker than he’d like as the two of you finish dessert. The waiter tells him the bill has been taken care of and Heeseung sits in his seat awkwardly as you look out the window to see the view from outside. But he hears the live band in the background and sees a few older couples slow dancing from where he sits and makes up his mind. 

“Do you want to dance?” 

You pull your attention to him. For a moment, he thinks he’s asked the most absurd question known to man when he recalls all the times you refused to make a home on the dance floor until you’ve gotten at least four drinks in your system. 

You surprise him. 

“I’d love to, Hee.” 

The room disappears when he leads you to the dance floor. He mimics the other dancers and takes the lead, swaying your bodies back and forth to the melody of the music. You smell of vanilla and cinnamon, a scent so distinctly you that it makes him grin like a man in love. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say against his neck. “I won’t lie when I say I feel like a princess.”

“That’s because you are a princess,” Heeseung says, kissing the top of your head. “You deserve to be treated like one.”

“I can’t believe you pulled this off so quickly. Don’t restaurants like these require reservations?”

He chuckles nervously. “About that…Jay helped me with the details. I was looking up restaurants to take you to if I got the chance before our trip ended. I guess he saw the list and chose the most romantic one out of the bunch.”

“I owe Jay a thank you.”

“We both do.” 

“I feel lucky to have people in my life who care about me this much,” you say. “I’m so happy you’re back in my life.” 

“I’m happy to be in it.” Heeseung squeezes your waist. “Deep down, it’s always been you that I’ve loved. There’s not a single person who makes me feel the way you do.”

“Yeah?” 

You feel him nod. “I’ll say it until you believe me. I’ll even yell it in this restaurant right now.” 

“Please don’t,” you laugh. “I believe you.” 

The sound of the melody overtakes the conversation. You feel Heeseung’s steady heartbeat as he expertly moves your bodies together on the dance floor. When you close your eyes, you think of this moment and how badly you want to commit it to memory, no longer in anguish over the tribulations of the past year. It feels nice to let go of your worries, even better that you have Heeseung back. 

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmurs under his breath. You pull your head back.

“Then you should kiss me.” 

Heeseung wastes no time and pulls you into him, one arm around your waist and the other behind your neck. His mouth finds yours when he decides he loves the taste of red wine on your lips. It feels poetic to be kissing you for the first time as you’re both dressed to the nines in the middle of Paris. To him, kissing you feels like a breath of fresh air and the start of something new. For you, kissing him feels like coming home. 

When he pulls back, you search for his eyes. 

“Take me back to the hotel,” you whisper. 

Heeseung feels his heart drop. 

“I’m sorry. We can go back now.”

You grip the collar of his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt when he moves. It’s only then that Heeseung sees the want in your eyes and the pure lust that clouds your pupils. 

“Take me back to the hotel.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

By the time your elevator reaches your floor, Heeseung’s dress shirt is completely unbuttoned with his toned chest exposed. You’re barely able to detach yourself from his mouth when he pushes you out of the contraption. Your hand reaches for his as you pull him towards your room, digging through your purse when you feel Heeseung’s lips on the back of your neck. 

“You look sexy in my jacket,” he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to your skin. 

“L-Let me find the key.” 

“So sexy.” His hands slide up the side of your body until he grips your waist. 

When the door opens, you pull Heeseung inside with you and lock it shut before pushing his dress shirt off of his body, exposing his muscular build and broad shoulders. You aren’t shy about hiding your lust, gazing all over his chest and abdomen as you feel your core drip with arousal. 

“I like it when you look at me like that,” Heeseung says. He reaches for your hand and places it on his chest. You take the liberty to glide your nails down his abdomen, feeling the way he tenses underneath your touch. 

“I’m really wet,” you say as you eye the tent that has grown in Heeseung’s pants. 

“Are you?” he asks. “You won’t mind if I check?” 

You shake your head and Heeseung takes that as a green light, his hands finding the soft fabric of your dress before pushing his hand underneath it. He whimpers when his fingers come in contact with your wet lips. It’s adorable, the way you push yourself against him to chase his lips while he fingers smear your wetness across the fabric of your panties. 

“Bed,” you mumble against his lips. 

He follows where you pull him, loving the way you take control when you push him onto the mattress. Heeseung distracts himself to catch his breath from the overwhelming sense of pleasure to realize that you’ve started to undo his belt buckle and take his hard cock out of his pants. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I want your cock in my mouth,” you plead, looking him in the eye. “Please let me.” 

You sit politely on your knees as you unbuckle Heeseung’s pants. His chest rises and falls in anticipation and he looks down at you to see that your mouth is watering at the sight of him. 

He’s already fully hard; he has been since you started unbuttoning his shirt in the elevator. You spit directly onto the tip of his cock and he bites his lip at the sudden contact before watching as you swipe your hand up and down himself. 

Heeseung doesn’t want to think about how you learned to do what you’re doing to him. He doesn’t want to think about the boys you’ve kissed or the people who got to see you like this before. What he does know, however, is he’s the only person from here on out who will see you on your knees if he can help it. 

Your mouth envelopes the head and Heeseung emits a short grunt. The tension between you two begins to slowly dissipate as you fit more of his cock inside of your mouth. Your tongue expertly traces every ridge and vein as you push your throat down onto him, causing Heeseung to put his palms on the mattress and throw his head back. 

You hum around him when he moans. He’s itching to put his hand behind your head but refuses the idea, letting you set your own pace. Heeseung watches as you switch your angle, sitting up to rest on your knees to push your head further down on him. He witnessed as you spread your legs, a choked moan coming from his throat in conjunction with a particular gag from your mouth. 

There’s spit everywhere. It’s trailing down your lips and connecting to his cock when you pull yourself from his body. It’s seeping to his pants and he’s about to speak up when your motion attaches itself to his sensitive balls, licking at its warmth while your hand strokes him from atop. 

“That’s it. Fuuuuck.”

He bucks his hips once and curses. Heeseung feels your mouth envelop one of his balls, the pressure of your mouth around it making him feel a kind of euphoria he didn’t know was possible. Your mouth moves to the other to give it the same treatment before retreating back to his cock. This time, your hand massages him from below as you suck on him. 

When you look up at him and wink, he decides enough is enough. 

“Baby,” Heeseung pants, attempting to push your head off of him. He thinks it’s so sexy that you’re turned on while giving him a blowjob. “Baby, please stop. I don’t wanna come yet.” 

You oblige and take your mouth off of him with a popping sound. You sit back and Heeseung stares at you through drooping eyelids in pure shock and amazement at how you’ve managed to pull him to a near orgasm as quickly as you did.

“Come here,” he beckons with his fingers.

He attaches his mouth to yours and pushes his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring the warm, wet walls you have to offer. Heeseung decides that he loves the feeling of your tongue against his and lets you suck on the muscle. 

You take your dress off to reveal sheer panties with nothing else on. Heeseung’s jaw drops at your beauty, but he also cannot believe how sexy his best friend’s body is. To him, you were sculpted from the hands of Aphrodite herself with great love and care. And it’s all for him.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, hovering over your body to press kisses to the valley of your chest. You let his hands roam and spread your legs to make room for him. 

Heeseung’s head travels back to your chest and you watch as he envelops your right nipple in his mouth. “Your tits are just perfect.” 

He makes a show out of it, hands cupping your breasts to massage them as his mouth works on you. He pushes your tits together and shoves his face between them, inhaling your scent while his tongue gathers whatever taste your body gives him. Heeseung moves to your left nipple and uses his tongue to flick the hardened bud over and over again until you’re arching your chest into his mouth. 

He grinds himself into your core with his pants still loose around his legs. It brings a moan out of your throat and he swallows it whole with his lips pressed firmly against yours. The friction feels delicious with the fabric of your panties against the hardness of Heeseung’s cock. He grinds against you with the help of your hips rolling into his, your natural wetness coating his cock in your essence. 

Heeseung moves his head to kiss your jawline, moving his mouth all over the expanse of your neck until he kisses right below your earlobe. You let out a particularly loud moan when he does, and Heeseung curses.

“Shit. Yeah baby, make those sounds for me. Let me hear your pretty moans.” 

His mouth attacks the area again and you aren’t shy about it. Your hands tangle in his hair as he kisses your neck and grinds his cock against the wet panties, which have by now molded to the shape of your pussy. 

Heeseung groans at the feeling of a particularly wet gush and lifts his hips enough to elicit a whimper out of your mouth. He experimentally lifts his hips again to align himself with you as he did before. The pressure must feel so good because your mouth hangs open with your eyes boring into his. 

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Does my baby feel good?” You can only nod and he doesn’t blame you. “That’s a good baby. Fuck, you’re so wet, it’s driving me crazy.” 

Heeseung feels your legs wrap around him and the way your heel pushes his lower back into your core. He takes the hint and quickens his pace, wanting nothing more than to see you come for him.

“You gotta come for me now, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You deserve to come. Won’t you do that for me?” 

Heeseung is sure that he’s never seen or heard anything more erotic compared to the vision of watching you come. Your mouth opens with breathy moans as you focus on your pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut as if you’re trying to savor the moment in your mind.

“Atta girl,” Heeseung praises when your hips grind into his. He keeps himself still and lets your body take over. 

You eventually come down and realize Heeseung has yet to come, but that’s the last thing on his mind. He sinks his body down to come face-to-face with your crotch and licks the come off of the soiled fabric of your panties. The sheerness gives him a sneak peek at your pussy, and he groans when he licks a slow, fat strip up your slit.

“You taste so fucking delicious, baby.” He licks at you again, faster this time. “Tastes like milk and honey.” 

Heeseung kisses your wet panties over and over again, his soft lips providing jolts of pleasure. His hands roam around the soft flesh of your thighs and squeezes them as if he remembers you’re all his to touch. The feeling is one you want to commit to memory, but it seems like Heeseung knows your mind is working overtime because he reaches his hand to find yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

You let his hand go when he pulls it from you to slide the useless barrier down your legs and to undo the straps of your heels. He takes great care to kiss your skin tenderly, starting by your ankle and making his way down just shy of where you need him the most. Heeseung repeats the process on the other leg until he comes face to face with your glistening core, licking his lips as if he doesn’t know where to start. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your clit.

He repeats the motion, kissing your folds like they’re delicate antiquities that need to be handled with the utmost care. His lips become covered with your essence; he feels you squirm underneath him and uses the expanse of his palms to gently pry your legs open for him, soothing the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

Heeseung tentatively licks your slit and decides he loves the sound of your moans when he has his mouth on you. He does it again, dragging his tongue to feel every ridge and crevice that he’s yet to explore. His mouth feels like a warm comfort with the slow pace he sets, licking you as if he’s trying to tell you how much he loves you without saying it. 

“You taste divine.” 

You look down below to see his hair covering his eyes and brush it away with your hands. Heeseung looks right into your soul and you feel your heart clench, causing you to roll your hips into his face. He merely buries his nose close to you until he bumps your clit with the tip, pushing his wet muscle into you deeper. 

When your moans get lighter and your breathy sounds are the only audible thing in the room aside from his own moans. You open your eyes to see Heeseung humping the mattress below you. The sight is so erotic that you can’t help but let out a loud whine at the thought of Heeseung pleasuring himself while pleasuring you. 

He brings his fingers to your pussy and sways his fingers back and forth until he foregoes his slow pace, favoring a faster one. He abuses your swollen clit while you can only lay there and watch him play with you. Heeseung expertly inserts his middle finger into your seeping hole and bites his lip to concentrate on getting you to come again. 

“I need it,” he confesses, bringing his mouth to lick you as he adds another finger. “I need you to come for me again, baby. Can you do that for me?’

“Yes, Hee,” you pant. “I wanna come so badly.”

“You can do it, baby. You’ve been such a good girl tonight, giving me the best head and letting me make you come. I think you deserve to feel good.” 

“I do,” you nod rapidly. “Fuck, I think I’m coming.”

“That’s right,” he coos, hammering his digits into you while his tongue laps up the juices leaking from your pussy. “So good. You taste so fucking good. Give it to me.” 

He doesn't relent until he’s satisfied. Heeseung cleans the come from your lips as best he can while sneaking his hand to his cock, pumping himself as he tastes your orgasm on his tongue. 

“You’ve crazy,” you mutter as you settle from your high, loving the feeling of Heeseung’s mouth tenderly licking you clean. 

“For you.” He pulls his face away and wipes the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to your clit. 

When he rises to take his pants and boxers off, he sees you with your arm covering your face. 

“Are you doing okay?” 

“Perfect, actually,” you sigh. You remove your arm to see him with his cock in his hands and motion him to come towards the edge of the bed as you crawl on your knees before sitting upright to pull him into a searing kiss. 

“That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Heeseung says against your mouth. “It’s better than porn, if I’m being honest.” 

You grab his cock and stroke him. “I’ll consider letting you take a video of me when we get back home if you fuck me right now.” 

“Turn around,” he says after an open-mouthed kiss.

You follow his instructions and he groans to himself as you present your perfect pussy to him again. Heeseung sinks to his knees and smacks your ass before shoving his tongue into your hole. He spreads your asscheeks apart and digs his nose against you, licking up the wetness and remnants of your orgasm like it’s his last meal. His tongue licks up your body until he finds your wrinkled muscle and presses a soft kiss to your tightest hole. 

The surprise comes to him when you moan softly. Your body doesn’t jerk away. Rather, you spread your legs further for him and Heeseung moans against your pussy before bringing his tongue to lick over the muscle again. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, dipping his tongue back in.

“Better than I imagined.” 

“You imagined my tongue in your ass, baby?” 

You nod. “I’ve always wanted to know what that feels like.” 

Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer. Instead, he spits into your hole and watches it dribble down to your pussy, licking his way from your incredibly wet folds to your hole once again. He licks over the expanse with the surface of his tongue one, twice, three times before you’re whining for his cock. He wastes no time tearing open the condom and hurriedly places it on himself. 

The first stretch of his cock in your pussy makes him see Heaven. The sharp gasp that comes from your mouth is music to his ears and he’s careful to sink himself into you slowly, inch by inch until you’re telling him he can go further. 

His cock impales you at such a perfect angle that it has you falling to your elbows, your back arched so perfectly that he’s sure you’d be the most popular pornstar if you really wanted to be. He keeps half of his cock in you to allow you to adjust, but he underestimates just how cock hungry you are because you back yourself until he’s filling you to the brim.

“Baby’s such a slut, isn’t she?” Heeseung wonders out loud. He grins when you nod. “I love you like that. So dirty for me.” 

“Only for you,” you say, cheek pressed to the mattress when Heeseung thrusts in you. 

The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. It doesn’t take long for your wet juices to glisten over the back of your thighs and onto Heeseung’s. His hands find purchase on your hips as he pulls your body close to him, loving the way your choked moans become muffled by the mattress below. 

“So. Fucking. Tight,” he moans with detailed thrusts. “So. Fucking. Wet.” 

He climbs on the bed and plants his feet on the blankets, holding your body in place as he pounds into you from above. The angle has you seeing stars and rips moan after moan from you. 

Heeseung grins wickedly. “Such a fuckable body. So perfect.” 

His degradation paired with praise ignites a fire inside of you. You can only moan louder to let Heeseung know exactly how he’s making you feel and you can’t help but think you deserved to be fucked exactly the way Heeseung is fucking you.

The pleasure feels like an explosion of a thousand suns. Your body is warm from the hours you’ve spent in the hotel room and your neighbors getting a good night’s sleep is the least of your concerns. Heeseung’s cock drills into you from above like he’s a sex god and it nearly brings you to tears. 

He turns you over carefully until you’re laying flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. He steals one from you and puts it underneath the small of your back to create leverage before lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing himself in again.

Heeseung thrusts like he’s got to prove just how in love with you he is. Your wanton moans fill the room with his low grunts as his cock continually hits the one spot that makes you see stars, over and over again.

But you know he could do more to make you feel better. He must notice you in deep thought because he slows his hips. 

“What is it, baby?” Heeseung asks when he notices your eyebrows knit together. “Is this okay? Do you need me to stop so we can take a break?”

“Take it off,” you whisper. His hips have faltered and his pace stutters at your words.

“Take what off?”

“The condom.” Heeseung nearly chokes. “Take the condom off.” 

“Baby—”

“I just wanna feel you.” 

Heeseung curses and his hips automatically drill into yours at the request out of pure shock. He can’t lie to himself. He’s thought about it multiple times since you left for Europe and as he’s come to term with his feelings for you. The cute fantasies about taking you on dates to dinner or drive in theaters transform into daydreams about dirty affairs in his bedroom with his seed leaking out of your perfect hole. 

Still, he doesn’t believe it.

“Please, Hee,” you plead, arching your chest towards him. “Let me feel you. Don’t you want to come inside me?”

“Fuck,” he falters, his forehead on yours. “You can’t just say that…I can’t be risky with you.” 

“Yes you can.” He watches you bite your lip and feels your hands push him off of you. Heeseung doesn’t put up a fight when he slips out of your warm hole and feels your hands grip his cock, desperately trying to tug the condom off of him. 

Heeseung sees the pathetic rubber in your hands when you bring it up for him to see. It’s glistening and his mouth drools at the sight, lips parting enough as if he stares at it in disbelief. He groans lowly in your ear as he peppers a few wet kisses to your neck. 

You spread your legs wider in the air and grip his cock in your head, pumping him a few times before letting his bare tip rest against your hole. His sharp intake is enough to make you bite your lip. 

“Pussy’s so wet,” he says against your neck, pushing an inch inside of you. “God, I could come like this.”

“You can.” 

“No, baby. Gonna fuck you the way you deserve before I come.”

With that sentiment, Heeseung pushes himself inside of you until he’s fully sheathed within your walls. He relishes the way you gasp at the sudden movement and he uses this angle to his advantage, positioning his ear next to your mouth to hear your delicious sounds. 

He moves his hips at such a pace that it makes you feel like your body’s bouncing on top of the soft mattress below you. Heeseung presses his chest against yours to kiss you like his life depends on it, tongue invading the privacy of your mouth but you couldn’t care less where his mouth goes. He can feel your nipples on his skin and groans into your mouth when you clench at a particularly hard thrust. 

“S-So good,” you stutter against his mouth with a breathy moan. Heeseung feels your arm around his shoulders, scratching at his back. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Mhm,” he coaxed. “Such a good baby. You look so pretty underneath me.” 

With a new sense of purpose, Heeseung lifts himself to push himself into you at a deeper angle. He forces his hips into you harder, your hands coming to your chest to cup your tits to give you something to hold in the meantime.

“That’s right, beautiful. Squeeze your tits for me.” 

You do, pinching and twisting your nipples until you hear Heeseung moan above you. It sounds nearly animalistic, the way his throat emits a groan that sounds so primal. He sees the dirty smile you paint your mouth with and leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead before his hand comes to your cheeks, squeezing them between my fingers.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” Heeseung asks, hips rolling against your own pelvis. When you nod, he gives you a nasty smile of his own and gives you a few harsh thrusts for good measure before pulling himself off of your chest with his cock still inside of you. 

Heeseung sits on his knees and pulls out just far enough where his hot tip remains buried inside of you, relishing in the panty breaths you emit as he watches your chest rise and fall. You look so beautiful to him with your hair messed up against the pillow beneath you and with a few faint hickeys on your chest and neck. Heeseung thinks that all of his wildest dreams could never compare to how gorgeous you look when you’re positioned directly where he wants you. 

You don’t complain when he pulls out to rest his cock on your wet, bare pussy. You wince at the loss and let him slide himself up and down, biting your lip when he grazes your swollen clit over and over again. 

The man above you lifts your right leg so that he can grip you tighter. You relinquish any control left in your body as Heeseung curses and kisses the side of your ankle. He dips the head of his cock inside and thrusts shallowly as if to tease, but you know he’s exploring all the way his cock looks like against your own body. 

It feels euphoric. The whole affair is dirty, but it’s the kind of dirty that makes you want to do it again. It’s the kind of dirty that makes this night an event you’ll want to remember for the rest of your night because Heeseung had poured his entire heart and soul for you to take. 

For Heeseung, this pleasure is less about knowing you have him permission to put himself inside you. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and your body; it’s something Heeseung has always admired about you as a person. Growing up with your insecurities of relationships and dating might’ve made you feel like a late bloomer; to Heeseung, your tendency to keep your head straight has always been a testament to how knowledgeable you are about yourself and about others. You save yourself for people who are worthy of you, and god, does he want to be worthy of you.

“I love you,” Heeseung whispers from above you. His eyes are closed and he pays no mind to the feeling your pussy gives him. Flashes of your memories stitch together like a film reel with your laughter as the soundtrack. He doesn’t think he wants to hear anything else for the rest of his life. 

Just for good measure, he whispers it again. “I love you so much.” 

“And I love you.”

Heeseung opens his eyes to see your tender ones, cheeks flushed from the sudden compliment. He always liked that he knew how to get you to blush when no one else couldn’t. This time, a sense of pride blooms in his chest. 

“I’ll never let you down,” he confesses. “And if I do, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” 

“I know, baby.” Heeseung’s hand cups your cheek and caresses it. “I trust you.” 

That’s enough for him to release your leg from his grip and pound himself into you like his life depends on bringing you to peak happiness. 

Heeseung’s palms are planted firmly on either side of your body as his hips roll gracefully against yours, the hot, wet mess between the two of you splashing on both of your thighs. He watches your eyes close shut and as your back arches to relieve some of the pressure, feeling somewhat proud of himself when he watches as your hands grab at the sheets for stability. 

There’s nothing that compares to watching you orgasm. Your eyebrows knit as if you’re concentrating while your mouth stands slightly ajar at the euphoric feeling of that single knot that’s threatening to come undone until it does. All of the girls he’s deluded into thinking he liked could never compare to the looks and sounds you’re making. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes softly. “Cream my cock, baby. That’s a good girl.” 

Heeseung feels you push and clench around him, gushing until there’s nowhere left for your come to go. He peeks down at where the two of you meet and groans when he sees his cock becoming painted in a sheer layer of white. It edges him on and the moment he locks his eyes with yours, his hips begin to stutter and he spills all he has to offer inside of you. 

He comes with short breaths as if he can’t believe you’ve allowed him to do so. Your hips move up and down as if to milk him for all he’s worth while Heeseung’s trying his best to balance his body on top of yours, grateful that some of his gym workouts prevent him from completely collapsing on top of you to.

His come seeps from your bodies and he pulls out, a few droplets splattering on your pussy lips. He nudges the tip against it, smearing his paint across your canvas and marveling at the sight. 

“My good girl,” he murmurs, eyes locked in at his handy work.

“I’ve never let anyone come inside of me,” you say with a fond expression. Your arm comes to brush Heeseung’s hair from his face before cradling his cheek when he looks at you in surprise. 

“Really?” 

You nod, biting your cheek. “Well, I always knew you were it for me. I didn’t want anyone else tainting what’s yours.” 

“Mine?” he asks, catching his breath. “You mean it? You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.” 

“All mine,” he mutters to himself in disbelief. 

You still feel his cock working itself against you. He’s still hard, a wonder after your hours locked away in your hotel room. It makes you laugh.

“No one has ever compared to you either,” Heeseung says. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he continues toying with your pussy. “Even when I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t like you.”

You laugh. “Well that’s good to hear. I realized all the guys I went after while I was abroad either looked like you or reminded me of you.” 

“I can confidently and stupidly say the same.” 

Your laughs echo through the room. Heeseung pulls your body upright, not caring that your mixed come is leaking on his cock and his bare lap. He kisses you with tender care, lips moving at a slow pace while his hands roam over the expanse of your back while your hands are on his broad shoulders. Heeseung could live like this everyday if you’d let him. 

You smile midway through when you feel his fully hardened cock against you. Heeseung apologizes quietly against your lips but feels you shake your head, pulling back to push him against the headboard until he’s comfortably seated. 

He looks at your pussy when you hover above him, the white cream still sticking to you as you grip his cock. Heeseung can’t believe his eyes when he understands what you’re about to do. Before he can even think, you align yourself with his cock and sink until you’re stuffed with him.

“Shit,” he curses through his teeth. 

“What good is coming inside of me if you don’t do it again and again, Hee?” 

“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

You don’t move just yet, opting to press small kisses to Heeseung’s face. You kiss his forehead, both temples, his nose, both eyelids, and the apples of his cheeks before placing a kiss to his lips. 

“Before we leave, I want you to fuck me against that window,” you say, turning your head to the window that glimpses the city below. 

“But people can see,” is Heeseung’s first comment.

“So?” 

He chokes and when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you can’t help but laugh at him.

“I’ve heard talk about your escapades, Lee. Why so shy with me?” 

He smacks your asscheek. “Naughty girl. Didn’t know you were nasty like that.” Heeseung gives you that kind of teasing smile that has you folding for him all over again. “Alright then, humor me. What else do you want to do before we leave?” 

“I’d love to give you a blowjob while we shower, too.” 

“That can certainly be arranged. Anything else?” 

You look around the room. “I kind of want to see you eat me out while I sit on the desk chair. Makes me think you’re some kind of secretary who’s desperate for my pussy.”

“I am desperate for your pussy,” Heeseung reminds you. “What if I’m the stone cold CEO and you’re the cute secretary whose ass I dream about?” 

You seat his chest. “This is my fantasy. You can have yours when we get home.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrow. “Mm, you sure?”

“Positively,” you nod. Heeseung’s hands travel from your ass to your hips and guides you up and down his cock, letting you set the pace after the brutal first round from a few minutes prior. 

“Gonna fuck you in and on my car, since you like being watched so much,” Heeseung teases. His words seem to make your pussy clench and hips move faster. He forgoes any shyness when speaking about his fantasies and spills his every thought.

“I always thought you looked so cute in your old school uniform. I’ve always wanted to take you in that skirt they gave you.”

“I’ll buy one of those sexy schoolgirl costumes and surprise you for your birthday,” you say, locking your eyes with him. “Oh, professor! Is there anything I can do to raise my grade?”

Heeseung laughs at your antics, but the images of you in the costume aforementioned makes his grip on your body tighter. 

“I selfishly want to watch you suck me off while I play with the guys.” He says it in a way that makes him avert his gaze and you can see a faint blush on his face. “I-I saw this video on Twitter. It looks hot.”

“I can do that for you.” You kiss both of his burning cheeks.

“But mostly, I just want you to sit on my face. Mad at me? Sit on my face. Sad? Sit on my face. Happy to see me? Sit on my face.” 

“Simp,” you grunt, thighs burning from pushing yourself on and off of Heeseung’s cock. 

“And proud.” He smacks both ass cheeks again. “Now what do you say, baby? If you ride me until you come, you can blow me in the bathroom before I fuck you in front of the entirety of Paris. Can you do that for me?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

The next morning, you meet Heeseung and the rest of the guys in the lobby while Jay checks out on behalf of all of you. Jake’s the first to see you coming. 

“You’re glowing and I don’t know if I like that.” He raises his eyebrow at Heeseung, who has pulled you into him by your waist. 

“At least some of us are getting laid,” you retort. “I don’t recall seeing anyone do the walk of shame even though you had the room to yourself.” 

Riki and Sunoo don’t try to contain their laughter as Jake’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. He rolls his eyes when you look at him, but shakes his head and punches your arm with your first. 

“Nah, I’m really glad you two got that out of your system and worked it out.”

“You guys had major sexual tension,” Sunoo comments. 

“Thank God Y/N’s room was at the end of the hall,” says Sunghoon. “I don’t know how their neighbors felt but I can sleep peacefully knowing I didn’t have to hear all of that.” 

“Okay, enough,” Heeseung laughs. “We get it, we had a lot of sexual tension and now we’re fine.”

“So you guys are boyfriend-girlfriend?” Jungwon asks. 

“Y/N is my girlfriend and I am her boyfriend.” 

“I will key his car if he hurts you again,” Riki tells you, looking at Heeseung after he’s finished speaking. You detach yourself from his waist and bring your arms around Riki to give him a squeeze.

“Thanks, Riki.”

“Okay, we should call the cabs right now so we can get to the airport early,” Jay says from behind you. 

“Jay is such a dad,” Jungwon whispers. 

He pays no mind to Jungwon’s words, instead focusing on the way Heeseung pulls you into his chest. It warms his heart in ways he can’t explain.

“Congratulations, you two. Let’s go home.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #kpop smut #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung smut #heeseung #tides of regret #my writing

[specshroom]

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)

Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he. 

All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades. 

They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.

One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other. 

Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover. 

The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up.  Uraume kneels before him.

"Master Sukuna."

 They say bowing their head.

 "Hmm?" 

Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt. 

Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."

Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.

In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.

In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-

*SLAP*

Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly. 

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"

Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol. 

" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!" 

The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up. 

"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"

"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-" 

As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence. 

" Welcome back master, it's good to see you" 

The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them. 

Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.

The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face. 

"What's your problem?" 

"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch." 

The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.

She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.

Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.

"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?" 

The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.

"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.

"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.

In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.

"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.

Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now. 

The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.

They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air. 

Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.

"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.

"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.

"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.

She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.

"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"

She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.

"I have made the preparations for your bath."

"Thank you, Uraume~"

The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.

"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.

She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.

"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"

She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.

Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.

"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"

As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.

"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"

"Of course, Master"

Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.

She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.

"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"

Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.

The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.

"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"

Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.

His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.

Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.

(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)

#this art of Sukuna will live in my head forever now btw #Uraume my beloved #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna scenarios #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #true form sukuna #uraume #uraume x reader

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer protecting an artist reader

・❥ You left the hotel that day to go shopping, and you came back with blood splattered across your clothes

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

x: 13k words?!! this is why the wait was long y’all 😭😭 i spoil you too much

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, SMUT!!

“Uno!” 

“Damnit, Husk! Why’d you got to do me like that for?!” Angel Dust hissed, clenching the cards in his hand tightly as he stared at the freshly placed ‘Wild +4’ on the table in front of him.

“You askin’ a gambler to play a game of cards and still expect princess treatment? Please.” Husk rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his glass of brandy. 

“I know your games, Kitty. You could’a played that on Charlie when the order was reversed but saved it just for me didn’t ya?”

“Whatever you say, the color is green anyway.” 

Angel Dust huffed in annoyance as he placed the extra cards in his deck, muttering something under his breath. Besides him, Vaggie placed down a green card of her own, her eyes squinted with a look of concentration, calculating her next move. 

You were sitting a few chairs over, on the other side of the table. Besides you was Charlie, leaned back in her chair, only three cards left in her hand. She would be the last person to go before it was Husk’s turn once more. 

When they had invited you to play some cards, you were expecting something like Blackjack or Poker, not UNO. 

You were shocked they even had something like this in Hell, but in truth, it could become a very bloodthirsty game rather quickly. Not to mention, it was a cult classic, and it made sense for even the residents of such a place to still hold nostalgia for it even after their death.

Charlie had proclaimed it was a great bonding session while also helping to teach valuable skills like patience and communication. As being part of the staff, it was mandatory for you.

It had only been a few days since Lucifer kissed you on that rooftop, and your cheeks still heated everytime you thought about it.

Looking back down at the cards in your hand, you analyzed your possible moves. You had a good amount of cards still left in your deck, but the one you had been eyeballing was a green ‘+2’. Maybe that single card could help turn the tides, and someone other than Husk would win for once.

The spot besides Vaggie was empty, a small hand of cards laid face-down on the table in front of the chair. It was Sir. Pentious’ turn, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“How long has Snake Boy been in the bathroom? Somebody better go check up on him.” 

“Give him a few more minutes, I think it was the Mexican we had earlier coming back to haunt him.”

“Well if he doesn’t hurry, we’re gonna replace him with Niff.”

You ignored the other’s conversation, instead pivoting slightly in Charlie’s direction. You had a plan, but it would only work with the assistance of the demon princess.

“Pssst, Charlie!” You whispered, using a hand to shield your words from the rest of the players.

“Yes?” She inquired, leaning closer to you. KeeKee lifted her head from Charlie’s lap, and you gave her a quick scratch between her ears.

“Do you have a ‘+2’?” 

“Maybeeee,” Charlie answered, her eyes scanning her cards before landing back on you, “Why?” 

“If I put one of mine down, stack it with yours. That way Husk gets four!” 

Charlie looked over at Husk, who was sitting with his chest puffed, and a single card in his paws as he eyed the winners pot. Which was a couple of mints, a large candy bar, three dollars, and a coupon for a discount on movie tickets. 

There was a bag of a mysterious white powder in the mix that Angel Dust had placed earlier, but it was gone now. You assumed that Charlie had probably swiped it so she could burn it later.

Charlie turned back to you, her mouth downturned.

“But that’s so meannnn,” She whimpered, her eyes glistening, “Husk has worked so hard to get down to that!”

“It’s UNO, Charlie! It’s not a game for the weak. Husk only has one card and I swear if you let him win, i’ll- i’ll… I won’t paint your nails tonight!” 

Charlie grimaced, grief written across her face as she contemplated the incredibly tough decision she had to make. 

“Hey, you two stop plotting over there!” Vaggie glared in your direction, her arms crossed  “Pretty sure that counts as cheating!” 

“We were just talking about the weather!” Charlie quickly responded, before nervously biting her lip. 

It was then Sir. Pentious arrived, apologizing profusely before returning to his seat and picking his deck back up. He analyzed his cards for a moment, before quickly placing down another green. 

‘Damnit’, you cursed internally, ‘The color hasn’t changed, now it’s really up to Charlie.’

It was finally your turn, and slowly pulling out the ‘+2’ from your hand, you placed it on the table. You hit Charlie with a hard stare, silently threatening her with the loss of a manicure.

You two had been spending more time together recently, ever since she appeared at your friend’s art studio, leaving you to wrangle in a practically nude Lucifer for the duration of your class. 

After that, you were no longer worried about whether Charlie was unsupportive of your relationship with Lucifer. It was clear she wanted the best for her father, and his mood had been improving with you around.

Sometimes, while you were sketching out new ideas for your next project, she’d knock quietly at your door, asking for your assistance in matters pertaining to the rest of the residents in the hotel.

“I just wish Angel Dust would try harder to drop the heavy drugs,” She had moaned to you one day, sitting on your bed as she clutched a stuffed animal of yours to her chest, “I mean the drinking? Whatever, for now. I’m sure those in Heaven probably do the same. But, Cocaine?” 

She exhaled a large breath and averted her gaze, her lips pursed as she continued.

“I messed up big time when I tried to put my foot down for his sake back at the filming studio. Now i’m just.. scared to say anything about it, I don’t want to re-ignite any fire between us.”

You had nodded along while listening to her words, your fingers tapping against the wooden easel as you contemplated.

“Maybe you should try sitting him down and having a heart-to-heart with him?” You suggested gently, putting down your pencil.

“Express your concerns and offer your support. With the business he’s in and the.. culture that surrounds it, I have no doubt those closest to him are only continuing to perpetuate his, erm, activities.”

She regarded your words for a moment, staring down at her shoes as she let that sink in. 

“You could even take it a step farther and invite him to different groups or classes. There are many places around the city that do things like pottery, poetry, even shitty horse riding lessons. Maybe if he found something of interest, it would help in replacing those bad habits.”

Slowly, Charlie’s head started to nod, and she met your gaze with fresh determination.

“You’re right! It’s time for me to step up and be his support beam. If I can’t get him to make better choices, then what’s the point of the hotel? I’m sure the others will agree to help!” 

She crossed the room, and gave you a large bear hug. She squeezed the breath out of your lungs, but you only returned the hug, eager to show her your support.

Quickly, like she had done something wrong, she pulled her arms back to her sides and stepped back, creating a gap between the two of you. Nervously, she twisted a piece of her hair around her finger and bit her lip. 

“To be honest, I really enjoy talking to you about this kind of stuff. You just have this aura that makes me want to spill all my secrets, just like I used to with my mom...”

Those last few words that left Charlie’s lips were in a whisper. Your eyes widened at that. Did she regard you as a semi-parental figure now that you’ve slowly slipped into the Morningstar family? 

Her mother was a tough subject for her, since she had no idea where Lilith had scurried off to during these last seven years. All she had was the dream that her mom had left in her absence, and the will to enlighten the lost souls of Hell.  

You never would imagine replacing Lilith, for either Charlie or Lucifer. She was the Queen of Hell, their rock during the beginning of Hell’s creation. It was only natural she still held a piece of their hearts.

Slowly, you reached out, and gingerly took her hand. You squeezed it, a silent gesture of comfort.

“I’m just glad I can be your support beam,” You had conceded, “you’re doing such a great job with the hotel. Your ideas deserve to be heard, deserve to be tried. I’m really proud of you for taking such a large step, and i’m glad to be along for the journey with you.” 

It was then that Charlie’s breath hitched, her cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and her eyes began to glisten. 

You rushed forward quickly as her lips began to quiver, and pulled her into another warm embrace. She melted into it, leaning into your chest as you heard quiet sniffles originating from the princess.

“That is just so refreshing to hear, you have no idea.” She answered after a moment, before standing up straight and taking a step back. Rubbing the short trail of tears away, she sent you a warm smile before waving farewell and disappearing out of your room.

Days like that continued, where she’d ask for your advice or share the latest gossip around the hotel. 

“Jesus, Charlie. What’s got you so twisted? Play a card!” Angel Dust’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. Blinking a few times, you twisted your head in Charlie’s direction to see what the fuss was about.

She sat there in her chair, the cards slightly trembling in her hands, as she was faced with an uncomfortable decision. You swore you saw a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, like she was deciding the fate of Husk’s life instead of the number of cards in his paws.

“I.. I just- Oh! I just can’t do it!” Charlie sobbed, before hastily pulling two more cards into her hand from the small deck on the table.

You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Damnit, you should have known better. 

There was a chorus of groans intermixed with yours as Husker let out a loud, boisterous laugh. Slamming his final card on the table, he quickly reached out and pulled the winner’s pot towards him. 

He plucked out a mint with his claws before throwing it in his mouth, sucking on it loudly, letting everyone hear the tastes of victory.

“Yeah, yeah. Y’dont gotta rub it in.” Angel Dust muttered, before standing up and stretching his arms. After a few pops of his joints, he sighed, pulling out his phone. He grimaced as he read the words on the screen.

“It looks like Val needs me in the studio, I better run.” 

The group of friends began to clean up the table, shuffling cards before placing the deck back into the small box. Watching him leave, a pang of sympathy hit you. You couldn’t imagine being stuck in a contract, let alone as volatile as his.

You didn’t miss the mirrored look Husk gave as he too watched Angel Dust walk through the doors.

Rising from your seat, you stepped away from the group. Checking the clock, you realized you still had enough time to go on your resupply run before it got too dark out. You had your money on you already, so it was just a matter of writing up a quick list and walking out the door. 

Walking up to the front desk right next to the hotel entrance, you rummaged through the drawers before pulling out a small notepad. 

Placing it on the desk, you reached over and grabbed the pen from its respective holder. You began scribbling down different items you needed to gather:

Acrylic paint

Cleaning sponge

Extra palette knife 

Laundry detergent

Catnip 

Nail poli-

“Greetingsss!”

You jumped, the pen you were holding clattering back onto the desk. Spinning, your eyes land on the tall snake-demon resident, his fangs extended in an imitation of a smile.

“Sir. Pentious! You can’t sneak up on me like that!.” You exclaimed, exhaling a large breath to calm your nerves. 

His hood drooped slightly, guilt crossed his face at your fright. 

“Oh dear, i’m terribly sssorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to speak to you, only for a moment.”

You perked at his words. You didn’t know much about Sir. Pentious, he rarely had the courage to have a full conversation with you. He reminded you more of a mouse, then a snake. Always very polite, careful not to push others' buttons, and with a bit of anxiety. It humored you that he used to be a bad person, he was so sweet!

“Of course! What is it you need?” 

“Well..” He started, rubbing his hands in a self-soothing motion, “There is ssomeone I would like to pursue romantically, and, well, I wasss hoping you could help me in courting her?” 

“Oh, well- I’d love to but I'm not exactly qualified for that.” You laughed, surprise written on your face. That was not what you were expecting him to ask. 

“Of courssse you are! You managed to establish an intimate relationsship with His Majesty, the ruler of Hell!”

Your eyes widened. That’s why he wants your opinion? Sure, you did manage to bag the most powerful being in the realm. Someone regarded as cold and narcissistic by outsiders, but not to you. He was more than just his power and his fame when it came to what you loved about the fallen angel.

“Well, yes. That’s definitely true. But, it wasn’t really the conventional way. Lucifer is a.. colorful character.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Remember that art class I hosted a few months ago? Yeah, he was laying practically butt-naked on a couch in front of me the entire duration.”

“Oh dear.. perhapss you are right.” 

You contemplated his question, though. There had to be something you could give him that would help. Perhaps, to gift her something unique. That would prove his interest.

“Well.. what does she like?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Does she have any hobbies or interests? You are a very talented inventor, and some people really enjoy hand-made gifts. That tells them you care about them enough that you’ll sweat a little to make them happy!”

“Oh, why yesss! She is interested in blowing things up with her grenades!” Sir. Pentious squinted in concentration as he considered your words. His eyes widened as a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Thatsss it! I will design her grenades that do a better job at blowing stuff up!”

“Okay, I wasn’t really thinking tha-”

“Oh, thank you! You are such a good lissstener, I must come to you more often for advice!” Sir. Pentious took your hand in glee, shaking it vigorously as he continued, “I will ssstart working on it right away! She will be head over heels for me now!” 

You smiled warmly at him as he spoke. Though you weren’t expecting him to choose a dangerous weapon as a gift for whoever he was trying to court, at least you managed to help him in his endeavor.

“I’m happy you’ve found a solution! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do some shopping.” You turned away from him slightly, scribbling down the remaining item on the notepad.

“Oh, what are you getting?” 

“Just some art supplies and a few other minuscule items over on the East Side,” you responded, “I should be back in a couple of hours.”

“Oh, my! It’sss getting very dangerous over there recently! Are you sure you want to go?” 

You lifted your head at his words. That side of the city was dangerous now? Isn’t that where Angel Dust’s studio is? 

“What do you mean, Sir. Pentious?”

“A large group of thugs have moved in, causing all sssorts of chaos! It’s not safe to go out alone in that area right now..”

You pondered his words. You didn’t regard yourself as a master of any kind of combat, and you weren't exactly afraid of the mention of gang-members, but, gang-members from Hell? Those were the worst of the worst. 

It’s not like you could ask anyone to join you. Alastor was who-knew-where, Sir. Pentious was going to some kind of annual inventor show soon, and Charlie and Vaggie were off for ‘date night’. You were pretty sure Husk was confined to the hotel unless someone with authority could give him the go. 

Lucifer was busy at some kind of meeting with the other six Deadly Sins. You never pried him on that part of his job, he hated going so you assumed he hated talking about it. He wouldn’t be done for awhile. 

‘Guess i’ll just wait fo-‘

“You ssshould take my Egg Bois!” Sir. Pentious’ words broke you out of your thoughts. Those little egg demons that followed him around everywhere? They were cute.. but could they really protect you?

“What?” 

“I cannot take them with me tonight, and they are trained for all kindsss of combat! They will protect you against any threat.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you, but I don’t know if-“ 

“Nonsssense! I insisst! A payment for helping me today.”

You bowed your head slightly in defeat. You weren’t too thrilled about having to babysit a bunch of eggs, but you trusted Sir. Pentious. If he said his boiz could protect you, then you’d believe it. 

“Alright, fine.”

✧༺🤍༻∞

“Your eyes are so pretty!” 

“Thank you.” 

“Uh, Not-Boss? I have to pee!” 

“That’s why I asked if you had to go before we left, Frank, now you’ll have to hold it in.”

“Can we stop for ice cream?” 

“After shopping.”

“Yay!”

It was only when you arrived at the East Side Market did you realize how badly you needed a car. That way, your ear wouldn’t have been talked off for so long. 

It wasn’t too bad, really. They were very obedient, never straying from your side as you traveled across the city. They told jokes that were so bad, you laughed at how much they made you cringe. They had very good manners too, always saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’.

Just one more street to cross, before you’d be at the art supply shop. Your little group neared the busy intersection, the light still green for the cars that sped by. Halting at the curb, you looked down at the Egg Bois before addressing them.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s hold hands while we cross. Here, Frank, come over to the right and take my hand.”

Frank sidled up to you, reaching up to grab on to your pinky. His entire hand wrapped around the single digit, and you wondered how exactly these guys had black belts in martial arts. 

As the ‘Walk’ signal blinked, you strode across the road. Squeezing past other pedestrians as they walked besides you, your eyes always glancing down to make sure the bois were safe.

Walking past a few more shops, your feet rested in front of a large, pink building. A paintbrush and palette imprinted on its front door. Turning towards the Egg Bois, you bent down to address them.

“Alright, i’ll only be in there for a few minutes. Guard the door, please.” 

The cluster of eggs saluted you, their features serious.

“You got it, Not-Boss!” 

Giving them a quick farewell nod, you walked through the open door. Disappearing from their sight.

Inside, you zig-zagged through the aisles. Each was one specific to a different art form. There was a row that held webs of colorful yarn, and you saw shades you honestly didn’t even know existed. 

You reached the aisle containing the paint supplies, your hand skimming across the shelves as you searched for a palette knife. You needed a smaller sized one, that way your accuracy in texturing feathers would improve. 

Recently, you found your paintings were filled with more and more waterfowl and angels. It was a repetitive pattern that only refined your abilities on recreating such ethereal scapes.

Before, your work exhibited many sexual themes. It wasn’t that much of a bother, you were making good money and still doing what you loved. But, damn, did it get mundane. How many tits were you going to be forced to see in your lifetime? 

When Charlie welcomed you to the hotel, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, you could crack your knuckles to get your creative juices flowing. It really brought back a ton of nostalgia too, from your time living on Earth.

Placing a few more items into your basket as you walked, you began to head for the cashier. Hopefully, the Egg Bois were doing okay an-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your eyes shot to the phone in your possession. It vibrated softly as it buzzed, and you quickly reached for the phone. Someone was calling you. Without even looking at the name, you tapped the green button, and held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Darling~” 

Your cheeks heated just hearing Lucifer’s voice on the other end, the familiar velvet tone like music to your ears. A smile formed on your lips as you stopped in your tracks.

“Hello, Handsome. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just got done with that meeting with the Sins. Thank god.”

“Was it bad?”

“It was the usual. Satan can’t control his cowboys from causing trouble outside his Ring, and Leviathan just complains about everyone else getting special treatment,” Lucifer cleared his throat, before continuing, “so, I was wondering what you were up to. Working hard?” 

“I’m out shopping right now, actually.” You replied. You heard shuffling on the other end, like Lucifer had stood up.

“Oh, really? Let me guess.. your resupply run?” 

“Bingo.” You smiled. He was catching on to more and more of your routines as time went on. 

“Well,” His tone turned playful, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, “lucky for you, i'm also out.”

“Really?” You questioned, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yep, and actually-”

Lucifer’s voice turned to static, and you pulled the speaker an inch away from your ear. Was there a bad signal? You didn’t have enough time to think about that, before his voice returned crystal clear on the other end.

“-I think I see you right now!”

What?

“What?”

“Wow, is that a new outfit you’re wearing? It looks good!”

Slowly, you turned to the direction of the large storefront windows. Your eyes scanned the streets, looking for any signs of the fallen angel. It wasn’t until you scooted slightly over, to look past the large poster covering your view, did you spot the glint of pale blonde hair. 

Your mouth dropped. Standing across the street, looking directly at you, was Lucifer. He didn’t sport the usual overcoat and hat, instead he wore his casual red-and-white striped waistcoat, the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up to partially expose his forearms.

He also wore a pair of black sunglasses, which you found kind of odd. You’ve never seen him with any kind of eyewear before today. Noticing your gaze, he waved to you, slightly bouncing on his toes.

You quickly tapped your screen to end the call, rushing toward the check-out counter. You kept taking glances at Lucifer through the windows, your smile widening everytime your gaze traveled down his frame.

The cashier handed you the receipt, and you hurriedly ran out the door. You skidded to a halt at the curb, just as Lucifer crossed the street. He sidled up beside you, grinning warmly. 

“I’m really happy to see you, but aren’t you worried you’ll get, like, mobbed or something out here? It’s pretty busy today. Don’t most demons recognize you?” You asked.

Lucifer nodded his head, before tapping the sunglasses on his face. You wondered how they held to his face so well. Magic? 

“That’s what these are for, they mask my appearance to everyone but you. And, now that I mention it..” Lucifer trailed off, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of sunglasses, “here, I bought these for you.”

He extended his arm, holding the sunglasses towards you. Reaching out, you gingerly pull them from his grasp, turning them over in your hands. There are words etched into the side of one the arms, and your eyes widened as you read the brand.

“These are Ray-Burn sunglasses! How much did you spend on these?” You questioned him. Ray-Burn was a very high-end retailer, and they were a luxury you could never have afforded. Lucifer only shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“I didn’t check, I just thought they’d look great on you.” 

Heat creeped onto your cheeks at his response. Your finger caressing the glasses as you processed his words. You had been checking out this specific pair quite some time, they were stylish and bold. 

“A work of art,” You had joked to Lucifer once, “They always come out with such pretty designs, one day i’ll get my hands on one.”

He must have kept your promise for you, and that made your heart flutter. Except, for the fact he didn’t need to do that. You would have loved any pair if Lucifer was the one giving it to you. 

“Why didn’t you just make one, instead of spending money on me?” 

“Because, you were eyeing this specific pair. While I have no doubt one of my versions would have looked fantastic on you. I can’t argue with your choice of style. Now put those bad boys on.”

Carefully, you slipped them on your face. You adjusted them slightly, centering them before releasing your grip. You blinked, the light hitting your eyes was much softer now, which was actually quite refreshing.

Lucifer whistled flirtatiously at you, “You look ravishing. Now, what about me?” 

He twisted his body and lifted his head up, posing like he was a cover girl in a magazine.  Puckering his lips, he lifted his brows at you. Waiting for your response.

Stupidly gorgeous, you thought, ogling him. 

“Perfect.”

“That’s right.” He agreed, nodding his head.

It was then that five eggs rolled into view. They bounced into one another, before standing on their legs. They looked up at you, before saluting.

Lucifer recoiled at the sight of them, stepping behind you slightly. 

“What the hell are those things?” He whispered in your ear. 

“My bodyguards!” You proclaimed with a smirk, pivoting to face him. Placing your hands on your hips, you eyed your temporary entourage.

“Ohhhh, I get it. Paint a few portraits and suddenly your top dog, hm?”

“Obviously. The Envy Ring has eyes on me 24/7.” You tried to hold in a laugh.

Lucifer smiled, before pulling you besides him. “Well, it’s a good thing I have you all to myself now.” 

He leaned forward, lips puckered for a kiss. Eyes widening, you quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, side-eyeing the multiple onlookers.

“Not in front of the little guys, they're too young to fill their heads with such things.” 

You felt air hit your palm as he sighed at your response, before pulling away. He turned his head toward the Egg Bois with a slight glare, and Frank walked forward. 

“Is this guy bothering you, Not-Boss? Want us to rough him up for you?” He raised his fists, giving the air a quick punch to display his combat prowess.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. You realized he was probably not used to lower demons like the Egg Bois speaking to him in such a manner. Even in a disguise.

“I don’t think he knows he’s talking to the big bad boss of Hell.” you teased, amusement glinting in your eyes. 

Frank’s eyes widened, he jumped back. It made both you and Lucifer reel back in surprise at the egg’s frightened reaction.

“Boss of Hell? You mean like Lucifer?!”

The Egg Bois behind him looked amongst themselves, fear flickering across their face. They whispered to each other, you could only make out a few words like ‘kill’ and ‘torture’.

“Haven’t you heard?” Frank continued, “He steals souls and drinks the blood of babies!”

“Oh, he does more than just that,” Lucifer started, stalking toward the egg-demon menacingly, “he roasts them alive to eat, and anyone of similar size!” 

The egg boi trembled, his little legs starting to shake as he listened to Lucifer’s words.

“Oh, golly..” He whispered with a quivering lip. 

Sending Lucifer a glare, you not-so-gently elbowed him in the side.

“What are you doing?” You whispered. Was he trying to make the little guy crack?

“Just keeping up my image, can’t have anyone thinking the almighty ruler of Hell fancies taking his lover for strolls down the markets!” 

You shot him another glare and Lucifer sent an apologetic smile. He slowly knelt down to Frank’s height, patting him on the top of his shell. “Don’t worry, little guy. I heard he prefers pancakes over scrambled eggs.”

Frank’s frown waned a tiny bit, his legs stilled as the panic subsided. The other eggs behind him visibly relaxed as well.

“And, who could ever eat a wittle adowable face like yours,” Lucifer cooed sweetly, rubbing the sides of Frank’s shell like he was trying to squeeze his cheeks, who giggled at the touch. Lucifer stood up, a smirk gracing his lips.

“Well, now that I'm here. That means you don’t need any bodyguards. Say goodbye!” He turned to you, snapping his fingers. Your eyes widened as the Egg Bois vanished in a flash of golden waves. You felt bad you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“You know, I did promise them ice cream.”

Lucifer waved his hand in a brushing motion, “we’ll stop and get them some on the way back.” 

You both continued to walk down the street, glancing into different shops as you set your eyes on something unique. Lucifer filled the time by continuing his rant of the other Sins. You listened intently, your knowledge of other powerful demons— apart from alastor, wasn’t very vast. He also mentioned wanting to find a gift for Charlie, and that got you scanning every display window on the street.

It wasn’t until the two of you stopped at a storefront and peeked through the glass display did you see something of interest. Across the hidden barrier, was a mannequin with feminine features, sporting a rather stunning red tuxedo with gold lapels. 

“I think Charlie would like that,” You smiled, turning to Lucifer, “she was mentioning a need for a wardrobe upgrade, and it would show you care about her passion with the hotel since she’d wear it for work.”

Lucifer pondered your words for a moment. He cared about his daughter deeply, but his relationship with her was still in the works. Her interests were still foreign to him, and he struggled with coming up with gifts for her, despite acts of service being his love language. Slowly, he nodded.

“What size does she wear? Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter. I can just adjust it for her. Are you coming in?” 

“I’ll wait out here, see if there’s anywhere else we can stop.” You replied. Lucifer nodded, before pulling open the front door and slipping inside. 

You turned, scooching as close to the wall as to not impede on the flow of pedestrian traffic. Your eyes scanned the other stores. Wait, didn’t you still need nail polish? What stores around here would sell tha-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your phone vibrated again. Raising your eyebrows, you checked the name this time. The words on the phone read ‘Charlie’ and you quickly answered it. 

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but are you still shopping?” Charlie asked, her tone strange to you. Worried, perhaps. 

“Yes, I am. I’m almost done though, why, what’s up?”

“It’s Angel Dust,” She spoke quickly, “the last time I talked to him he stopped at a bar at the edge of the East Side Market hours ago, and now he won’t answer any of my messages. I’m just worried about him.” 

“Well, I’m at the East Side Market now. I can check up on him, if you want, maybe even drag him back to the hotel.” 

“Really?” Charlie said, her tone lifting at your words, “Oh, thank you! That would be great, please let me know what happens..”

You promised her you would, before hanging up. Just as you set the phone down, Lucifer exited the store. He held a large pink bag in his hands as he strolled towards you.

“Alright, where to next?” 

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Angel Dust is somewhere around here no doubt blackout drunk, and I have to go make sure he’s okay. It’s the club right down the street here, will you come with me?”

Sensing the urgency in your tone, Lucifer nodded. He laced your fingers with his before speaking, “if that’s what you want, of course.”

Quickly, you pulled him down the street. A large, dark building came into view. To be honest, if the figure of a stripper wasn’t etched into its sign, you wouldn’t have guessed it was a club. It looked like a run down industrial building, but the heavy vibrations from the music inside told you otherwise. A large crowd of people were standing up front, some held cigarettes or beers in their hands as they chatted waiting to enter. You couldn’t see a bouncer, maybe it was going to be easier than you thought to get in.

“I think this time, it’s your turn to go in alone,” Lucifer stopped at the doors, turning to you, “this crowd is a little too big for my liking..”

“That’s fine. I shouldn’t be long, i’ll be down here in a few minutes.” Your lips brushed his cheek before you reluctantly pulled your hand from his grip. Maneuvering through the crowd, trying not to bump into too many stumbling drunks, you stopped at the door. With a quick glance at your surroundings and Lucifer, you pulled open the large door and slipped inside.

Flashing multi-color lights hit your eyes as they lit up your frame from the other end of the dark hallway. Shadowy figures passed your peripheral vision as they danced. Round tables were stacked with empty drinks, with groups of partiers standing around them as they chatted and laughed.

The music was loud too, drowning out your thoughts so all that was left was the single mission: Find Angel Dust.

Quickly, you crossed the room, your feet stopping at the bar. You turned your head, scanning for any signs of bright pink fuzz. You found none, and your eyes instead landed on a staircase. There were multiple floors to this place? Hopefully, Angel Dust wouldn’t be far away.

A man at the bar winked at you, and you quickly turned away, hurriedly making your way to the stairs. You lept over multiple steps, until your feet touched a hard, wood floor. This area was definitely built for those that wanted to forget whatever shitty day they had come from. 

Strippers danced around large poles on top of platforms connected to each corner of the room. A wall lined with doors, labeled rather indiscreetly as ‘sex’ rooms, caught your eye. He couldn’t be in there, could he? 

“Y’know, my fur gets pinker the more you touch, toots. Ever seen a spider change color?” 

Your head snapped to that familiar voice. Angel Dust leaned against a wall, near the open doors of a large balcony. It was a dark corner of the room, and you would have missed it if not for hearing his voice. He looked really drunk, and you contemplated whether you were actually going to be able to get him out of here. There were multiple large demons around him, leaned in as they listened to Angel talk. They kept glancing at each other, before turning their attention back to the spider-demon. 

You didn’t like the look of them, their faces weren’t friendly and the scars across their skin made you nervous. It wasn’t until one adjusted their position slightly, did you see the gleam of a small dagger attached to their waist belt. You tensed, were these the thugs Sir. Pentious had mentioned? 

“Why don’t you let us take you somewhere nice. eh?” One of them started, scooching closer to Angel Dust, “get some more drinks in your system, relax, whatcha say?” 

You didn’t like where the conversation was going as you eavesdropped. You hurriedly crossed the room, throwing your hands up in the air as you walked towards them.

“Angel! There you are, i’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“Hot cakesss,” Angel Dust slurred in surprise as he turned away from the men and met your eyes, “What are you doing here? This ain’t your type’a place.”

“That’s because i’m here to get you home, buddy. Come on, you’ve had a rough day, doesn’t a warm bed sound nice?”

Angel nodded to that, before turning away from the group of feral-eyed men. He held a small shot glass in his hand as he stumbled up to you, holding it out for you to take. 

“Hereee, have a drink.” 

You shook your head, “No, I shouldn’t, we need to-“

“Cmonnn Hot Cakes, we’re at a club! I ain’t going until you drink.” 

You eyed him, before your gaze snapped to the liquor in his hand. That’s right, it was Angel Dust you were trying to drag home. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, especially with the fact he was almost eight feet tall. With a sigh, you took the shot glass and lifted it to your lips. You threw your head back, downing the contents in one go.

It burned as it traveled down your throat, but slowly, the flavor hit your senses, and you blinked your eyes. You felt.. different, already. You looked at Angel, before setting the glass down on a nearby table. “This was actually kinda good, what is it?” 

“Amrita.”

“What?”

“A sex potion. Y’know, makes your juicy parts tingle, and gets ya craving for a strong man to come satisfy your desires. It works, I promise.” 

Your mouth opened, and then it closed. No way did Angel Dust just give you a libido booster. You put a hand to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut. Was one shot going to do much? Were you going to become a mess right next to Angel? Fuck, you should have resisted that temptation. 

You wrapped your fingers around Angel’s forearm, pulling him towards the staircase. “Let’s go, Angel, we don’t have time for games.”

He wasn’t able to take a step forward before one of the large onlookers pushed forward between the two of you. His head and body resembled that of a Great White Shark. His cold eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you took a step back to widen the distance.

“Where are you two heading off to in such a hurry? You interrupted us earlier, friend. Us and the spider were just chatting about him joining us for the night. Isn’t that right?” The man turned to Angel, who only nodded absentmindedly. He mumbled something about never having any ‘real’ fun, whatever that meant.

“My friend here is too drunk to make any kind of decisions by himself,” You replied sternly, hoping your nerves weren’t trickling into your voice, “He needs to go home and rest, now if you’ll excuse me..”  

The man put a hand up as you moved forward, halting you in your tracks. “Your friend here is a big boy. He can make his own choices, and he chose to come with us.” 

You shot him a glare, before looking past him to see the group of demons slowly converge on Angel, who was looking at you with a mixed expression. As if actually deliberating whether to take your hand and leave this noisy place.

“Ow! Watch it, meathead!” Angel snapped as one roughly grabbed his wrist. Pulling him away from you, towards a closed door on the other end of the room.

In a flit of rage at their man-handling, you surged forward, yanking at the thug’s wrist, trying to get him to release Angel. “Hey, let him go! I already told you-”

The words died in your throat as you felt rough hands wrap around your arms, and the sharp pain in your back as you were slammed into the wall. Your eyes snapped up, meeting the shark-faced demon’s cruel gaze and he glared intently at you. 

“And I already told you he’s coming with us. Why don’t you take your little ass back downstairs to where the party is, before I make you.”

You struggled against his grip, but this guy was strong, and your strength was dwindling with every second you fought against him. “Let go of me!” You snapped.

“We should take them with us,” One of the thugs called from behind him as he pulled Angel farther away from you, “don’t want to risk them stirring up trouble.”

Your eyes widened in fear, and your gaze landed back on the demon locking you in place. He looked at his comrade, for a moment, before turning his head to face you. His lips upturned in a vicious grin. 

“Well, what do you think about that, Hot Cakes?” He asked, his grip still tight around your arms, “want to join us for a little fun? Come on, i’m sure you’ll like it. Especially with that drink in your system.” 

Oh no, this was bad. Really, bad. You had no chance against these guys, if only you could get Lucifer’s attention.. 

Suddenly, you were jerked forward, the man’s harsh grip dragging you along towards whatever lay beyond those sex rooms. You struggled, twisting in his grip. “Let go of me!” You begged. 

The heavy bass of the song as it spilled out of the loud-speakers only drowned out your cries. How the hell was everyone so drunk and caught up in their own world that they didn’t notice you being forcefully removed from the scene? The demon just ignored you, and as you crossed in front of the open doorway to the balcony, your breath quickened. Your arm reeled back instinctually, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“I said, let me go!” You screamed, clocking the shark-faced demon right in the jaw. He reeled back, a curse falling from his lips. His head snapped down to you, before he closed the distance, his chest bumping with yours. You felt your feet lift off the ground for a moment as he shoved you backwards. Your back hit the railing of the balcony, and you stumbled for a moment, trying not to fall backwards. 

The demon pulled you forward by your top, his hot breath hitting your face. His eyes a darkened shade as he fumed before you. “You think you’re top shit, huh? Think you can hit me and get away with it?” He snarled. 

Slightly turning your head to look below you, you realized the balcony was facing the back of the club. There was no one in sight, but you could hear the faint noises from the crowd in the distance. Was Lucifer still at the front door, waiting for you?

Your heartbeat quickened as you locked eyes with him, slowly, you felt him push you forward. Your body leaning farther and farther over the railing, you struggled against him once more. The only thing keeping you from tumbling over was his steel grip on your top. A pang of regret flashed through your mind. Fuck, you were dead. 

“Enjoy your night, Hot Cakes.” He chuckled darkly, before his hand opened, releasing your clothing, and your balance faltered.

“No!” Angel Dust yelled from behind you, his eyes wide in fear as your body flipped over the railing. The man turned away from you, stalking back into the club. The balcony doors slamming shut behind him. You flailed helplessly, letting out a scream as you fell.

As you plummeted, panic surged through your veins, every instinct screaming for survival. The wind whipped past your ears, drowning out all other sound except for the pounding of your heart. In that terrifying moment of free fall, you wished desperately for something, anything, to save you from the impending impact.

At that moment, for the first time in your life, you prayed. You prayed that if not you, at least Angel Dust would make it out alive and unscathed. 

‘Please, don’t let Lucifer find my body’ You begged, as the ground rushed up to meet you.

Just as suddenly as the fall had begun, it halted. Your body jerked to a stop midair, suspended in an inexplicable stasis. Confusion clouded your mind as you blinked. What just happened?

A soft chuckle resonated beneath you, and slowly, you turned your head to see Lucifer. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he extended his arms, a subtle shimmer of golden magic enveloping your form.

With a gentle motion, he guided you down, easing your descent until you landed softly in his embrace. As you caught your breath, relief washed over you.

“When you told me you’d be down in a moment, I didn’t think that meant leaping off the second story.” Lucifer teased.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, trembling slightly. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be a splatter on the ground. 

Inhaling his scent, you softened against him as that familiar smell of apple cinnamon and roses. Fuck, he smelled so good. Your face heating up as you breathed deeply, your thighs beginning to ache. Did he always smell so.. mouth-watering? It made you want to lean over and take a bite, would he taste as good too? He’d probably let you, if you aske-

Wait. What were you doing?! SAVE ANGEL. 

Your brain screamed at you, pulling you harshly back into reality. Was this that drink making you all mushy? Damn, it really was a potion. 

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the fog in your mind as you stared up at him. Quickly, scrambling out of his grip. You took his arm, a pleading look in your eyes.

“You need to help! Angel Dust is up there, and he got taken by a gang or something! They tried to take me too, but I fought back. The-they threw me off the balcony!” The words tumbled out of your mouth in one breath, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You couldn’t imagine what could be happening up there, you didn’t want to.

Lucifer frowned, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate behind the shades.

“Who threw you off the balcony?” He growled. 

“The men up there, come on, we need to hurry!” You turned, but not before you felt hands wrapping around your midsection. You heard soft rustling from behind you, and upon turning your head, took in the sight of Lucifer’s large wings extended widely.

“Let’s take the shortcut, hm?” He said, before you both were in the air with a single flap of his wings. You quickly looked around, what if someone saw him like this? It's not everyday a demon saw angel wings, and multiple of them for that matter. Hopefully, they’ll just blame it on their drunken stupor.

Lucifer lifted you up the railing, and you slowly maneuvered out of his grip, your feet hitting the metal landing. He gracefully lowered himself next to you, his wings furling before disappearing into his back. 

Slowly cracking the balcony door open, you both peeked from the doorway. Your head snapped to each side of the room, no Angel. You scanned the chairs situated around the stripper stages, no Angel. 

It wasn’t until your gaze landed on an adjacent room, near a hallway directly to your right, did your eyes narrow. 

“See those guys over there? That’s them. There are a lot more now though. I don’t know where they took Angel, he could be behind that door at the end of the hall.” You whispered to Lucifer, who’s gaze intensified as he analyzed the group.

Tip-toeing back into the building, you stopped short at the corner. Just around the bend, you’d come face to face with your attackers.

“I can take them, no sweat.” Lucifer replied, full confidence in his tone. You didn’t doubt it, but could he fight them without risking Angel Dust’s life? 

“Okay, but I need to check the other rooms,” You replied hurriedly, “There are multiple, um, private rooms up here. He could be in any of them. I need to find him, before it’s too late!” 

You were about to turn away before you felt Lucifer’s grip on your wrist, preventing you from moving. Your gaze met his, but you couldn’t see what he was feeling behind the shades masking his eyes. The slight tinge of fear laced in his voice gave you a clue, though.

“You should wait,” He spoke soft, but firmly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You shook your head at him, your gaze scanning the large crowd, before turning back with panicked eyes.

“It’s Angel Dust who’ll get hurt if I don’t find him quickly.” Your breath quickening with every second not searching for your friend.

Leaning forward, you grazed his lips with a quick kiss, “I promise, i’ll be alright.”

He looked at you for another moment, as if contemplating whether to force you to stay in the safety of his presence. He didn’t though, instead letting out an exhale of breath.

“Fine. I’ll distract them for you then, and try not to make too big of a scene,” Lucifer adjusted his sunglasses, before continuing, “but, if I don’t see you back here in ten minutes, there won’t be a club to come back to.” He threatened.

You sent him a reassuring smile, his protective nature making your heart flutter. There was no time for swooning now, though, you had a spider-demon to save.

“Oh, and take this. You know how to use one of these, right?”

You looked down at the object in his other hand, your eyes widening at the sight of a small pistol.

“Enough.” Was your only answer as you took it from his grip, adjusting it between your fingers. You weren’t going to ask him where it came from, instead just sending him a silent thanks as you turned away.

Quickly, you slid your wrist out of his grip, and hurried off. Lucifer watched you leave, your form melting into the rest of the partierers on the dance floor.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had disappeared, before he turned towards the group of demons across the room.

They stood in a huddle, snickering between themselves near the entrance to a mysterious back room. Lucifer cleared his throat, and their heads snapped to him.

The dark corner they were standing in partially masked their features, but that bloodthirsty glint in their eyes was unmistakable.

“So, tell me,” Lucifer began, no hint of emotion in his tone, “Which one of you douchebags has a kink for throwing people off of balconies?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” A tall, shark-faced man demanded harshly.

“Oh, you know…” Lucifer responded, a slight growl dripping from his voice, “Just a concerned citizen.” 

“If you don’t slither back to whatever shit-hole you came out of, Shorty, i’m gonna make sure your last memory is my dagger between your eyes!” 

“Oh, I’ll remember you, alright,” Lucifer chuckled darkly, rolling up his sleeves as he stalked forward, the tips of his horns protruding from his head, “As the latest bottom-feeder who thought he could fuck with the devil.” 

The group of demons regarded him with a confused expression for a moment, their gaze bouncing between each other in silent questioning. Unsure about the stranger’s lack of fear.

The shark-demon turned to face them, his frown deepening as he watched them stand there like children waiting for Mommy’s instruction. 

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for!? Kill him!” 

Brandishing their close-combat weapons, five demons charged at Lucifer. Their menacing frames towering over the smaller man.

“Finally,” Lucifer grinned wickedly, before rolling his shoulders, “Some fun!” 

Fingertips igniting with a golden flame, he surged forward, meeting the oncoming demons halfway. The closest one gripped their axe tightly, before pulling it behind them. In a blink of an eye, they swung their arms forward.

The axe sliced through the air, aimed right at Lucifer's throat. It didn’t connect, as he gracefully leaned backwards, pupils dilating as he watched the weapon whisk right above his hair.

“Missed me!” He yelled playfully, before dodging another swing of a blade. A throwing knife whizzed right past his ear as he evaded the attack. It hit the chest of a demon charging behind him, who fell with a loud thump, their body twitched for a moment, before stilling.

“Missed me again! Wow, you guys suck at this!”

“How is this guy so fast?!” One of the gang-members yelled incredulously, before chucking another throwing knife in Lucifer’s direction. 

He melted into the shadows of the room and the knife hit the opposite wall, embedding into the cracked paint. The group twisted their heads around the area, eyes scanning for the vanishing stranger.

“You look tired!” Lucifer grinned behind one of the thugs, who pivoted with a yelp of surprise at his appearance. The mace in their hand beginning to rise for an attack.

“Why don't you—” Lucifer snarled and reeled back an arm, an enclosed fist at the end of it. He swung it forward and it connected with the larger demon’s stomach, a strangled gasp escaping their lips.

“—Sit down!” 

With a flash of golden light, the demon shot backward. He flew through the air, his back smashing into the window on the opposite wall. He sailed right through it, letting out a shriek as he plummeted towards the ground. 

The scene halted for a moment. Multiple wide eyes snapping from Lucifer to the large, broken window that their comrade had just exited. Pieces of glass scattered across the room were the only remnants of the crime.

“Holy shit..” one muttered quietly in shock, fear etched onto his features. He dropped the weapon in his hand, and scurried off towards the staircase leading out of the club. 

“That’s called karma, bitch!” Lucifer laughed. He stood in the same position he had punched the guy, casually brushing off a few specks of dirt from his sleeves. Adjusting his sunglasses once more, he surveyed the rest of the demons.

“Who’s next?” he grinned. 

The gang-members exchanged nervous glances. Some withdrew a few steps, a few tightened their grip on their weapon with calculating glares. None made the first move.

“Alright then,” Lucifer hummed, “Guess i’ll just have to pick.” 

Snapping his fingers, a whip appeared in his hand. A long, thin wire coated in golden flames dragged across the floor. Scorch marks trailed behind as he slowly stalked forward. With another burst of magic, the room filled with thick, gray fog. To any demon that would walk into the room, they’d probably just think it was the fog machine acting up.

“Eeny..” He started.

Right as the bass dropped, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet, Lucifer cracked the whip. It shot forward, slashing one demon right in the throat. Blood spurted from the gash, and with a few gurgled screams, the demon face-planted onto the floor.

The room went into a panic, as the gang-members frantically searched for the way out of the dense fog. One ran straight into a wall, knocking him unconscious as he slid down the side of it.

“Meeny..”

The music drowned out the whip once more as it curled around the foot of a wolf-built demon, with a harsh tug, the demon clawed for something to grab before he was thrown out the now-broken window. He screams echoing in a mirrored symphony of the last.

“Miny..” 

The whip evaporated from Lucifer’s hand, as he charged an unsuspecting gang-member. They pivoted in his direction, right as he wrapped his hands around their throat. Golden tendrils seeped from under Lucifer’s sleeves, and curled tightly the demon’s neck. With a snap of his wrist, the thug’s head twisted an un-natural angle, and he fell backwards. 

Landing softly in front of the body, Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on the area in front of him. The fog cleared, and the only one left standing was the leader of the gang. His eyes were dark, his teeth bared as his gaze traveled across the broken bodies of his comrades. His rage was going to be the death of him. 

“I’m tired of this shit. Let’s finish this, Pipsqueak!” The Shark-demon roared. Reaching behind him, the gang leader carefully pulled a large, silver machete from the sheath strapped to his back. 

This one was rather different, though. It was laced with shimmering white etchings, that pooled at the tip of the blade. 

Angelic steel.

Lucifer only grinned widely at the sight. Before planting his feet firmly into the ground, the demon would regret thinking he had the upper hand. He should have ran when he had the chance. 

In a flash, Lucifer’s wings unfurled. Bathing the room in a red glow as the tips of his flight feathers grazed the opposite walls. The shark-demon’s eyes widened, his stance faltered for a moment, but the grip of the blade tightened.

“Moe.” Was all Lucifer uttered, and with a large beat of his wings, shot straight for the demon. With a battle cry, the leader raised the machete high, ready to slash at the fallen angel.

At the last second, Lucifer ducked, curling his wings around himself as he evaded the blade and slammed right into the shark’s chest. The heavy blow knocked the demon backwards, and the weapon flew from his grip. 

Reaching out an arm, Lucifer snatched it, turning it on its user. With a downward swipe, he planted the blade right into the fucker’s heart. The demon’s knees hit the floor, as blood dripped from his mouth, the life fading from his eyes.

“This is to make sure you keep your filthy hands off what doesn’t belong to you,” he snarled in the demon’s ear, “know you died simply because your mama’s manners never rubbed off on you.” 

Lucifer stood there for a moment, on the dead man’s corpse. His breath heavy as the thick scent of blood and pain filled his nostrils. He may have descended from the Heavens, but ruling a place like this for so long can really turn a guy feral when it comes to protecting the ones he loves most.

With his wings disappearing back into his frame, Lucifer turned towards the closed door. With a flick of his wrist, it slammed open, and he took a step inside. 

It was empty, stacks of cash laid strewn on the table before him. Bottles of empty liquor sat on the small bar across the room. It seemed like a hideout for the gang, but Lucifer deathly was aware of the silence. There was no Angel Dust, which meant..

A moment of panic overtook him as he backtracked out of the room, his eyes feverishly searching for you. Were you okay? Did they hurt you? It had been long enough, you should have been back by now. He bolted out of the hallway, pushing through the crowd of drunken partiers.

He needed to find you, before it was too late.

✧༺🤍༻∞

Your feet skidded to a halt in front of the first private room. The line of doors sat in an adjacent room to the dance floor, away from the prying eyes of club-goers. The sign on the door indicated it to you as it was occupied. You took a deep breath, before gripping the handle. 

You yanked open the door, taking in the unwanted sight of two demons naked on the bed. Their heads snapped up, eyes wide at your intrusion.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!!” You screamed to them, covering your eyes.

“It’s okay, Sugar. You can join us if you want!” One yelled at you flirtatiously. 

“No thanks!” You replied as you scurried away, your gaze already zone in on the next room. Jiggling the handle, you found it locked tightly.

You placed an ear to the door, straining for any sounds. Angel was in one of these rooms and you’d make sure he’d come out unscathed.

“Get the fuck off me, you murderer!” You heard a familiar, muffled voice yell behind the door.

Fear gripped at your heart as you recognized his cry. Your head whipped to the bar closest to you, searching for something you could use to break through. Besides the shelf of bottles was a fire extinguisher, bolted to the wall. 

You rushed forward, scanning the area for any signs of the bartender, before grasping the handle tightly. Using all your strength, you pulled it towards you. It snapped off its hinges and caused you to stumble backwards from the force, clutching it to your chest. 

Your head snapped back to the door and you crossed the room. You lifted the fire extinguisher above your head, and waited. Just as the beat dropped, and the speakers filled the room with deafening bass, you smashed the red canister against the handle.

It flew off, skidding across the floor. You dropped the extinguisher, before picking the pistol back up. Lifting your leg, you used all your strength to kick the door open, revealing the scene inside. The scene before you was chilling—Angel, bound to the bed with his clothes slightly torn, struggling against a demon holding him down. Without hesitation, you raised the pistol, aiming it at the demon's head.

"Let him go," you commanded, your voice trembling with fury and determination. 

The demon’s eyes widened at the weapon aimed at his face, before quickly reaching his hands in the air to surrender. “Let’s watch where you point that thing, now.” He joked darkly. 

"Get the fuck out." you snarled, your voice low and threatening. You weren’t sure whether you had the strength to actually pull the trigger, nor did you want to further traumatize Angel Dust.

The demon backed up to the wall slowly, tip-toeing around you as you turned on your heels to continue facing him, the gun never leaving it’s sight of the man. After reaching the door, he quickly fled with his tail between his legs. 

Breathing heavily, you rushed to Angel's side, helping him stand. "We need to get out of here," you said urgently, glancing around for any other threats. 

Angel Dust’s eyes widened at the sight of you, his mouth opened in shock. “I-I thought they killed you!” He sputtered, gripping your arms tightly as his hands came free from the bindings. He looked like he was about to burst into tears. 

It was then that another figure barreled into the room, eyes wide and panic in their voice as they called out for you. You turned sharply, gun drawn once more, aimed right at.. Lucifer’s face. This time without the sunglasses blocking those pretty eyes of his.

Your shaking hands loosened around the gun at the realization, and it dropped to the floor at your feet. 

You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was okay! Of course he was, but that didn’t mean your mind wasn’t racing with worry for his sake. It was the other way around too, as Lucifer returned the hug ten fold. You could feel his rapid breath against your neck as he melted slightly into you. The worry fading from his eyes, as he gave you once over for any injuries.

“About time, you dick!” Angel muttered besides you, rubbing his wrists where the rope marks were no doubt beginning to bruise beneath his fuzzy. He seemed offley sober now, unlike you, who’s mind was still a bit fuzzy from the Amrita. 

Releasing Lucifer slowly, you stood up, turning back to Angel Dust. He was relatively untouched, it seems you made it just in time.

“Those thugs are taken care of,” Lucifer began, his pupils still dilated to slits as he hissed out the words, “they won’t bother you anymore, although, i’d recommend you stay away from this place from now on.”

Angel Dust nodded besides you, “Y’dont gotta tell me twice. Now, how about we use some of that sick teleportation magic of yours and get the fuck outta here?” 

“That sounds really nice, right about now.” You breathed, a faint smiling appearing on your lips.

You turned towards Lucifer, but a shadowy figure behind him caught your attention. In the doorway, a demon bleeding profusely from his side glared daggers into Lucifer’s back. Raising an arm, you caught the sight of a silver-tipped pistol lifting to aim right at his head.

“Watch out!” You screamed. Instinctually, you shoved Lucifer aside, positioning yourself between the gun and your love. Lucifer’s head snapped in your direction, and his eyes widened as they turned a midnight-red.

“Wait, no-!”

Lucifer started, pulling you close to him, right as the thug pulled the trigger. You heard the sickly pop as the gun fired and squeezed your eyes shut. 

You saw a flash of golden light behind your eyelids, and felt your feet lifted off the ground. You felt a cool breeze hit your face, with the familiar feeling of floating midair. Were you being teleported?

Suddenly, your back hit the hardwood floor of your room in the hotel and your head bounced on the ground. Pain seared through your body as you landed harshly, and you were knocked unconscious. 

Lucifer’s face appeared before yours, his eyes searching for signs of life. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at your motionless form. Panic clawed at his insides, threatening to consume him entirely. He reached out trembling hands, fingers shaking as they brushed against your cheek, desperately searching for any hint of warmth. Did the bullet hit you? If it was truly an angelic weapon, there was no chance to save you.

"No," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, no."

Your eyes flew open, and you shot up from the ground, gasping. Taking in the sight of your atelier, with its canvases strewn across your room, you turned to face Lucifer. Relief flooded his entire being as he watched you awaken. 

A wide smile spread across his face, breaking through the darkness that had threatened to engulf him moments before. "You're alive," he breathed, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He scanned your body for any blood or injury, and found none.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. "I thought I lost you," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you're here. You're safe."

“Angel Dust?” You asked hoarsely.

“Fine. I dropped him in the lobby.”

He held you for a moment longer, before pushing you back. Your breath hitched, watching him. His teeth were bared, his eyes still dark as he regarded you.

“What were you thinking? Trying to save me?”

“What was I supposed to do?! Let the bullet hit you?” 

“Yes!” He snapped, before he closed his eyes, and his features softened. He hung his head, averting his gaze. 

“Your life is much more important than a few holes in my body. I would gladly lay down my life for you or Charlie, I don’t care about the circumstances.”

You wanted to retort, tell him how stupid he is for saying such things. Instead, you sidled up to him. Your knees gently grazed his own, and you took his hand.

“And what about you, hm? Do you think your wellbeing doesn’t matter? You may be a super powerful fallen angel, but you’re still my super powerful angel. You can’t just run off and die and think nobody is going to care.”

Lucifer hummed softly, his head tilting at your words. A smile formed on his lips as he listened. He hadn’t heard anyone speak to him like that in a very long time.

You took in the sight of the most powerful being in the realm. His hair disheveled with sweat beading down his forehead, as the soft red glow from the window lit up his features. You sat there, drinking in his presence. He looked absolutely beautiful, breathtaking even. Watching him practically come apart at the very thought of seeing your lifeless body, it awakened something in you. The driving urge to claim him, once and for all. To make him yours, forever. 

The thought of him defending you, in a way no one ever has before, made you horny. A primitive urge that’s sat dormant since you were first born. 

Is this how the lioness on TV felt when she watched her man tear into a pack of hyenas to protect her and her cubs? Maybe, you were finally understanding it.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, or that damn drink playing with your head, but the heat that slowly crept from between your thighs was unmistakable.

You wanted him so fucking badly.

“What?” Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to you, surprise written on his face.

Shit, did he hear that?

“.. I want you, Lucifer,” You whispered, “I want your heart, your mind.. and your body.”

He tensed, and you hoped he understood what you were implying. But it wasn’t long before you felt strong hands pushing you backwards. You laid back slightly, using your arms to support your upper body. Lucifer kneeled in front of you, his pupils practically invisible as he pulled off his shirt. 

You sent him a sultry smirk, before Lucifer closed the distance, climbing on top of you. Gripping at your top, he pulled it from your frame, leaving you bare-chested as well. His eyes traveled down your nude body, as if he was memorizing every crevice and line in your skin. 

You felt a slight bulge in his pants as he kneeled above you, and you bucked your hips. Hearing a hiss of pleasure escape him. 

You leaned forward, taking his lips in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, using his weight to keep you upright as your teeth grazed his lip. Lucifer broke from your mouth, trailing quick pecks down to your throat. He placed a wet sloppy kiss in the crook of your neck, and your eyes rolled back with pleasure.

You moaned as his lips trailed down father, in the valley of your chest, and down to your waist. Gripping your lower garments, he tugged them free. You sat back, legs spread as you allowed him to do as he wished. 

He stopped suddenly, and looked up at you with those pretty yellow eyes of his. 

"Are you sure about thi-" He started to say softly, but you cut him off.

"I’ve never been more sure." you said, your hands caressing the side of his face.

He smirked before picking you up, which was no effort, considering the angelic strength he held. He laid you gently on the dining table and trailed kisses down your body once more. The only piece of clothing you had left was the one that covered your nether regions.

"Oh, Luci," you moaned as he slowly took off your underwear. He kissed the inside of your thighs, teasing you before pulling away. You glared at him, and he sent you a smirk, before taking your mouth in another kiss. 

“You’re mine,” He muttered, lapping at your collarbone, “no demon, angel, or any other being in creation will ever come between us. Not a single soul will ever wish you harm and lay their filthy hands on you again.”

You felt his erect manhood pressing against your entrance. You hadn’t realized he had fully removed his clothes until you felt his nakedness against you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned. You jerked your hips against his, teasing his tip into you. He shuddered for a moment, before stilling.

You bit your lip and gave him a sultry grin. That was all the encouragement he needed; with a single, long thrust, he surged inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

Desperate to have him closer, you hooked your legs around his back and pressed your heels against his ass. 

“More.” You moaned, and he obliged, thrusting again. Your legs trembled at the sensation.

You felt a growl— or maybe a purr— resonate from his chest. Your audible sounds of pleasure only further spurred the intensity of his thrusts, as he slammed into you harder and harder. 

You screamed his name loudly as you came, bliss blooming across your body. He didn't wait for you to come down from you high as he continued his thrusting. With him in control of you now, he was hitting your insides from an incredibly pleasurable angle, and even before your first climax ended, you felt another one rising within.

You tightened your thighs around his back as you came again, your walls flexing around his cock and gripping it so tightly you could feel it pulsing inside you. You both stilled for a moment, and you felt him starting to lean against you. 

Except, you weren’t quite done yet. Now, it was your turn.

Sitting up straight, you moved your leg forward and pushed him backwards with your toes. He stumbled and limply sank into the chair behind him, his hair coated to his face with sweat, his half-lidded eyes watching you intensely.

Your feet hit the cold floor, a rather refreshing feeling from the burning within you, as you sauntered over to him. Taking a finger, you let it graze the underside of his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. 

“You’re such a good boy,” You whispered, your voice like honey to Lucifer’s ears, “always doing what you’re told. Never fussing. Good boys deserve a reward, don’t you think?” 

You swore you heard him whimper, and that surprised you. The big boss of hell, coming undone beneath you before you even began. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you lowered yourself.

You slowly sank onto his length, your ass meeting his thighs as you accepted all of him. Slowly, you grinded your hips, and he whimpered again. It was a musical sound, and it made you desperate to hear what else could come from that pretty mouth of his.

Using your legs to strengthen your movements, you bounced atop him. Every smack of your ass against his skin sent you deeper into ecstasy. Leaning your head down, you bit his shoulder as another wave of pleasure hit you. He moaned beneath you, and you bit him again, lapping at the teeth marks left in your wake.

You felt his breath hitch as you came down with more intensity, his own climax nearing. You increased your pace, and felt his waist lifting to meet you as you descended upon him again. His grip around your midsection tightened, his claws digging in your skin as he threw his head back, a moan of pleasure escaping his lips. 

Heat blossomed from your stomach and you let out a breathless gasp as you reached your own climax. Your body trembling from the intensity, as you collapsed into his arms. 

Breathing hard, you both sat there for a moment, before you lifted up your head and used your hand to push his curls back that were plastered to his face. You wanted to see those pretty eyes of his in their full glory. The look he gave you was of such adoration you wanted to cry. 

Have you ever felt this loved before?

“Stay with me tonight, won’t you?” You pleaded with doe-eyes. He smiled, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his skin turning you to liquid against his touch.

“Anything for you,” He whispered into your ear. 

His wings unfurled, and you felt them curl around your naked body. Your eyes began to close, and Lucifer’s gentle hums lulled you into a state of blissful sleep as you sank further into his chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I hope that wasn’t too long of a fic, but in my defense i need it that long for my writing 😩 This part had me studying over on wattpad to get the smut accurate lmaoooo

lmk what you think!!

Tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 4/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Word count: 10 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Another long chapter, but it's the last one, so... Enjoy! ^^

The next night, you dream awake.

You didn’t want to sleep with your back turned against him, and König didn’t even need to scoop you into his arms. You went there by yourself, completely willingly. You were disappointed when he didn’t even try anything; he just fell asleep like a baby after the hangover that left him weak.

Your hand is on his chest, right over his heart, as you listen to his soft snore. It’s like the whole world has shrunk into this bed, like your entire life suddenly consists of him. You can’t even hear the birds, the occasional gust of wind, or the pair of sandals outside the tent going to a nightly pee. The only thing you can hear or see or feel is him.

His heart under your palm. His chest against your cheek. The slow, steady rise and fall of it, the push and pull of it like a tide. His leg, draped across your hip, enclosing you under a heavy body that clings to you like he never wants to let you go.

And…

No. 

It’s too stupid.

“Love” is something bards sing about. There’s no time for it in the real world; lust brings people together, and they multiply like birds and beasts. They simply flock together for warmth, food and survival. Love is the property of dreams and songs, something that happened at the dawn of time but now only occurs in tales and plays. Surely, a mountain giant knows nothing about love… He just wants to stuff his cock inside you and alleviate the burn of his loins.

But his words still linger.

”I have fallen in love with you.”

You repeat them over and over again in your head, snuggling even closer to him, your heart flaring into a small bonfire when he squeezes you in return through sleep. The warmth spreads across your chest, it makes your toes tingle, and the tingles rise up to your head like ale, bringing tears to your eyes. 

Why does he have to be like this…?

There’s a sudden crack of thunder outside, and it makes you startle and clutch him tighter. It’s soon followed by a downpour of rain, the weight of it like a blanket spreading across the land. The drops beat the tent with so much noise you fear the whole abode will collapse from the force of them.

Another crackle sends you to grip him with fear; a violent rip of lightning makes you bury your head in his neck. König mostly wakes up to your distress rather than the sounds of thunder and hail, rumbling softly to the crown of your head and drawing you closer to him. You’ve always been afraid of thunder because nothing can compete with the fury of the Sky Father. You whimper as another roar shakes the bed, the very earth beneath you, and the rain begins to beat the tent in full.

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” König mutters, unafraid and clearly about to fall back to sleep again. “Only sky father making love to his woman...”

His explanation of the horrible display of the sky god’s power wipes your mind blank for a moment. He uses the same name of the god as you, but the viewpoint is thoroughly foreign. Is this the sound of lovemaking to him? 

“Safe here,” he squishes you against him until it’s difficult to breathe. Your heart is still beating in your chest as König falls asleep, the arms around you relaxing just enough to allow you to breathe again. 

In the morning, you try to correct him on his strange thoughts about Sky Father. You tell him your people believe he’s fighting his enemies when it thunders, not… making love to anyone.

“Fighting or fucking,” he only shrugs. “Same noise.”

You open your mouth to explain the difference between fucking and lovemaking next, then decide it’s no use.

The weather is warm and the land is lush after the abundant rain. König takes you to a small stream and you risk to take a dip, delighted and relieved to have the opportunity for a quick wash. When you threaten to gut him when he sleeps if he takes a peek, König only laughs. Probably thinks it’s an exciting threat. Then he sits on the bank to work on a small piece of wood while you have your cold bath. He’s been carving it for a few days and has refused to show it to you, no matter how “nosy” you’ve been. It’s an unfinished piece, yes, but it still feels silly that a grown man is so secretive about a chunk of wood. You only now begin to understand that perhaps the statue of the Great Mother is not stolen. It’s not bought, and he hasn’t had it made. He carved it himself.

Shocked, you forget to keep an eye on him while you scrub and rub yourself in the stream. You never thought of him as a sculptor or even a carpenter, but apparently, some soldiers spend their leisure time in other activities than fucking and drinking and gambling.

Your hands meet the leather string of the necklace as you wash your hair, and you remember your vow. It makes your heart sink: it’s a beautiful day, the first of summer, and you have to let go of the loveliest thing König has ever given to you. You peek a glance at him: he’s looking so peaceful while carving the small figurine, with that signature smile his that always reveals itself through his eyes, warm and jovial, like he’s just a hunter or a fisherman having a break from a day of toil.

You strip yourself from the necklace and release it with a sullen breath. The spirits accept it hungrily, pulling it underwater the instant you let it go. The current carries it far away downstream, and you find your chin trembling, and not from cold. You have given your moonblood to Mother many, many times, but this gift is infinitely more valuable. Still, the most important thing is that the man you prayed for is alive and whistling happily on that bank.

And you’re not an oathbreaker… But König is. 

When you rise from the water, he steals a glance. Actually, he stares at you like you’ve particularly asked him to never rip his eyes from you. 

You pay the adoring beast no mind and rise from the stream with the pride of a queen, only to have it all robbed from you as you notice there are flowers placed there where you left your clothes. The crazy giant has actually plucked flowers for you.

It’s an odd thing to do because in your land, only children pick flowers. Usually, people give flowers to the gods. Or, mainly just to the Great Mother... It’s because She appreciates them. 

And you also notice your old dress is not where you left it.

“Where is it?” 

He extends his hands to the sides and shrugs, faking innocence so poorly that you don’t know if you want to shove or kiss him. You’re desperately trying to cover your womanhood from his searing stare – an attempt that, of course, makes your tits press together even more cutely than before. König doesn’t even know where to look when there’s so much of your sweetness on display. 

This man is so stupid and childish and simply unbelievable; hiding your dress the instant you are vulnerable and in your thoughts. You look around you, then up, and notice that he’s thrown the dress over a pine branch far above your reach. Of course.

“You’re a bully,” you turn your accusing gaze to him, hands now slowly curling into fists by your side. You’re not even angry: you’re just feeling... hot, and frustrated, and embarrassed, having to stand here in bright daylight, dripping wet and about to have another tantrum while naked. You’re starting to suspect that he probably enjoys it when you get in a pet. Maybe it makes his cock hard: to watch you stomp your foot at him, especially if you do it without clothes.

“Bully?” His eyes smile at you like he’s the son of Sky Father himself.

“It’s someone who… who tortures people,” you blurt, a bit more dramatically than you initially meant to. He bursts into laughter and laughs for a long time, either because you just called him precisely what he is or because you called him a torturer for doing a silly prank.

“Ach… Well, you are pretty,” he says after surviving something that was veritably not meant as a joke. As if you being pretty is some kind of an excuse for doing this stupid, childish stunt...

His stare sweeps over you like you’re merely property, his eyes darting between your pouty face and the glistening sex between your legs now that you’ve blessedly moved your hands out of the way. Then he notices that something’s missing, that there is no necklace resting above your breasts anymore. He takes a step and raises a hand, and for the first time ever, you wouldn’t even dream of shying away from his touch. He brushes your bare neck with a silent question and brief hurt in his eyes.

Gods, he can’t think you got rid of it because you despised it, can he...?

“The river took it,” you explain quickly and with genuine regret. It’s a lie, but you can’t tell him the real reason it’s gone. You can’t confess that you had to sacrifice it for his safe return.

“I really liked it,” you whisper while looking him straight in the eyes, stomach heavy with both lies and the horrible, sweet truth. König recuperates surprisingly fast and nods slowly, the caress rising to your cheek to console you.

“Don’t worry. I can make you a new one,” he promises stoutly, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into tears right there in front of him. “With wolf claws, if you like?”

“I don’t know… Sounds dangerous.”

“Hah. I kill my first wolf when I was fifteen.”

Your heart is bursting inside your chest – the songs of the bards never tell about someone being so goofy that you want to hug them until they stop speaking silly things. 

“I’m sure you did,” your lips quiver with a whisper of a smile. König takes in every crumb of your affection like it’s a blessing from the Mother below: his shoulders draw back everytime he senses you are appreciative of him or admire his strength. He’s even more proud when he presents the small carving he’s been working on. 

You’re now absolutely, vehemently sure that he has made the statue of the Great Mother himself. Because what you’re looking at is very similar to that statue, only far more detailed. The breasts and hips on this figurine are more proportional, and you could almost swear that the statue he just gave you is trying to depict you. It has your hair and your face, or then he has tried to capture the slightly pouting face of some other ungrateful woman. But you can’t shake the thought that you may very well be looking into your own eyes.

“For you,” he says above you, and you swallow tears for gods know how many times today. He even winks at you, incredibly playful, like this statue is now a cute little secret only you two know about.

“It’s–I didn’t know you… Uh. Thank you,” you stutter like a fool. You can’t ask if it’s you – you can’t ask a simple question because to hear his unabashed, proud answer would mean that you won’t be able to hold yourself back from kissing him.

You are starting to feel like… an idol of worship, almost. 

He lavishes you with gifts and flowers, he feeds you grapes and wine, he brings you his bloodied loot and asks you to bless his sword. He honours your purity and respects your wishes not to be touched and pilfered.

What else are you if not a goddess? 

Even the Mother in his satchel doesn’t get such fevered attention. He even carved a new statue for you. Of you.

Your senses become eagle-sharp as you realize just how much your suspicions are proving true. You think about the way he is always at your tits, as if calling forth good luck and abundance when he squeezes them every day and night. It’s almost like a ritual. Or how he tries to dress you in fine clothes, not just to show you around, but to make you feel appreciated. The way he protects and shelters you and lets you – no, demands you to – ride his horse while he exhausts himself on the road. How the selecting of the necklace now seems like a test, to prove whether you are a true goddess who favors a gift of bone and blood and amber over the pathetic shiny trinkets of men. 

And the way he hasn’t touched other women all this time; no, because he doesn’t keep other goddesses...

Just you. 

Only you.

…

He knows your tongue so well that you don’t practically need the translator anymore. König sends him away after you whisper in his ear that you don’t like him.

It’s another lie because what you really don’t like is how bothered he looks when forced into the company of you two. You don’t like the deep sighs and the weary looks he gives both you and your supposed lover who always insists that you sit on his lap even if there are other people in the tent. You don’t want to make the poor man uncomfortable, so you come up with a reason for König to send him away. It's quite apparent that you could ask for the moon and stars, and he’d figure out a way to give them to you.

When you ask him why, for the love of all the gods, does he even want to keep a Roman slave, he says it amuses him. You always thought it was an odd thing to do because you’ve never seen König spend time with his soldiers. He never gambles with them, never eats with them, never hunts with them. By separating himself from them he keeps up an illusion of himself as a walking, fighting myth who has forced half the world to its knees, and whose quirks are to keep a Roman slave and, now, a foreign fairy in his tent.

You start to understand that it's because he doesn’t feel like he belongs.

He doesn’t even want to belong. He doesn't make an effort to be a Roman even if, legally, you suppose he’s a citizen or at least a free man. You wonder if it’s his only weakness: being so different from everybody else. 

You walk in and out of camp like a free woman with him. To the forest, to the stream, and one day, to the ocean, not too far from where you used to gather clams. If you walked the shoreline long enough, you would end up near your old village.

You spend your entire day there, collecting pink and white shells, giggling as König takes a dip in the shivering sea. He even throws the hood away before walking into the foaming waves. You have to hold your breath as he comes out because his face is the complete opposite of what you thought you would see. He has stern features and some prominent scars above his lip and crossing the bridge of his nose; there’s one above the left eye, and his nose has been broken at least two times. He looks mean and dangerous and suffering, it’s true, but you’re not scared at all. In fact, your embarrassingly wet while he furrows his brows and looks down at his feet, otherwise proud and happy in his skin but now suddenly concerned that you might not like what you see.

“Ugly?” He asks bluntly, with such distanced but sharp pain that your breath leaves you entirely. The vision of him might have frightened you on the first night, it’s true, but now, you only think he’s handsome. In a crude way, perhaps... But still handsome.

“No,” you shake your head slowly, never taking your eyes off him. König takes in air as if he has been granted a pardon from a horrible crime, and your heart hurts – is this the reason he has clung to that hood? To conceal some old scars and to appear more menacing to friends and enemies?

He’s stronger than ever as he walks to you, unclothed and smelling of seabreeze and salt, like he was just born from there, sired by the ocean and the wind. You ought to pray to Mother but you know it will do you no good. It’s a rotten joke to want a man who has massacred your people, the ones you used to call friend and neighbour and kin. You feel like you’re betraying the memory of your whole village by wanting to sleep with the enemy. The enemy who worships you; who looks at you like you’re a goddess when you lean back to watch the night sky come alive with indigo and stars. The enemy who teaches you their names in his own tongue...

He points you to the Head of the Serpent and the Smith’s Street, then to the Nail that holds the sky in place. You have your own names for the stars but you like it when he introduces them to you, clumsy and excited. When he shows you the long cock of the hero your people call Hunter, your cheeks heat up. You try to repeat the name in his tongue (whatever lewd, brash northern hero it may be), and it makes him happier than ever to hear you speak his words.

“König,” you ask him when he's shown you all the stars he knows. “Why do you fight…?”

He turns to look at you, perplexed, and you word the question differently.

“What do you want?”

“...What do I want?”

“Yes. In this life.”

His brows furrow as he starts to think, and your love for him only grows. Has no one ever asked him that before? Has he ever even given it a thought...? 

He grabs a handful of grass and rips it from the ground, absentmindedly and deep in thought. He fiddles with it for a while, then throws it away, looking somewhere to the distant, generous sea.

“I want…children,” he says. “I want a home.”

König turns to look at you, so stern that it forces you take support from the earth beneath you.

“Home. Richtig?”

“Yes,” you whisper, “A–a home.”

But it can’t be...

It can’t.

It’s simply too crazy that the brutal, callous giant has been searching for a home all along. That the man who cuts off heads and spits out the flesh of his enemies is simply someone who has lost his home and has yearned back ever since. It’s too wild a thought that the Titan wants to raise a family and have many children.

“Don’t you have a home somewhere in Rome…?” 

“It’s only a house.”

He fidgets with more grass, then turns back to you again with honest curiosity.

“Do you want children?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Fee. You would be a good mother,” he determines right then and there, saying it so casually that you have no choice but to believe it. You want to change the topic, and quickly, now tugging at the grass yourself because you're feeling shy.

“König… What is Fee?” 

“Fee is… They are small women? Live in trees. Or flowers. Or everywhere,” he gestures vaguely all around you.

“You mean fairies,” you whisper, and he shrugs. If you say so. But you know you're talking about the same thing: curious little earth spirits, lively and wild. 

Your heart is burning; it’s scorching until there’s nothing left but sweet molten gold. Usually, this kind of burning has stirred in your chest when some old crone has told a good story at the fire during the turn of the year. Usually, you’ve felt this kind of thrill when you’ve heard the piper play for the forest during springtime, lulling the devious spirits back to the trees so that they wouldn’t enter lambs and goats and make them sick. You’ve only felt so alive when you’ve walked at the beach during midsummer with a desperate aching between your legs because you’ve felt so alone and yet so, so alive.

“They said you were a Titan,” you whisper, another hushed question on this night of nights. You feel like you’re having a conversation of the ages, even if it’s clumsy and plain. The night sky is blooming with stars, the sea is whispering its secrets, and there are so many unsaid things between you two, finally washing up on the shore. König is ripping out more tall grass, but only because he’s searching for the right words.

“No. No titan. Just king,” he shakes his head as if sorry that he has to disappoint you. “I was the king’s son. Before Rome came…”

He’s suffered the same fate as you then, a long, long time ago. You wonder where his people are now or if they are even alive anymore, if he is the last giant standing, the last remaining man of his folk from the mountains. If the ruins of his proud house have already turned to dirt and dust and soil, if his father’s head was left to rot on a Roman spear, his riches and wealth taken back to Rome as spoils and exchanged for wine and whores and slaves.

You can only imagine the fury and despair when a tall boy’s future and dreams crumbled into dust, to blood and tears and screams, to a tale that no one ever told.

“You’d make a great king,” you say, meaning it with all your heart. His whole face lights up with a smile; the sorrow is still present in his eyes, and you know the depth of its roots now. But the Romans never managed to kill his will to live.

“If I was king… I would choose you for my queen,” he says softly, and you thank the wind for drying an escapee tear that rolls out. Fate is shaking your ribcage like a rattle; the wind steals your tears like they’re a long-withheld gift.

He tells you his tale under the safety of the vast starry sky. It's only bits and pieces, but you understand enough from his clumsy words.

He tells you how he was brought to Rome as a slave, sold to the pits and how he rose to manhood and fame there. He fought in the great arenas you’ve heard so many gruesome tales about; he fought until he could buy his freedom. He forgot his people, his revenge, that he was a king. Not knowing what else to do, he took up arms again and became the thing he hated the most: a Roman soldier. 

He tells you about a woman who can see things that have not yet happened. He asked this seer if there was anything else for him in this life but death; he would give any offering that was needed if only he could find more life instead. He had already given money and offerings to all the fertility goddesses of Rome, to no avail. He had carved a statue of Venus to attract love, but it didn’t work. So many times he had wanted to throw it in the sea. Until the woman who sees told him he would find what he was looking for in his next campaign. When he promised he’d come back to kill her if she lied, the old crone had only laughed at him. 

The next day, he was discharged from his old unit and separated from those who spoke the same language as him. Everyone was afraid of an uprising that would have a giant at its head, so he was offered money and whores, even a position in politics, and lastly, a place in an elite unit with a better wage. They told him the troops were about to leave for the harsh frontier: a new campaign to bring glory to Rome. He chose the latter option immediately.

He turns to look at you. Bloodless, thin-lipped, shivering you.

“She said you would be pretty. Like a fairy.”

You hear the distant rumbling of the sea, endlessly soft. You feel the wind suddenly passing through the field, filling the cloak of a northern king who came all this way just for you. Even the stars are waiting for your next move. 

“I…” you start, already breathless. “The necklace… König, I’m so sorry. I had to give it to Mother.”

“Mother?”

“To the gods. So that you wouldn’t die in battle.”

Realization dawns on his face, driving away all doubt and confusion. He’s just as pleased as the day he gave you all those gifts, if not even more so.

“You make sacrifice for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You can’t help it: a sob wrenches out of your chest as the first tears fall. “I’m sorry. I really liked it... I’m so sorry–”

König rises immediately, only to come to you and fall to a crouch. He draws you against his chest, your weeping face soon held right against his heart.

“Never say sorry,” he kisses your head, over and over again. “Never say sorry…”

The wind surrounds you both, soft and warm, as he rocks you back and forth. You hug him with all the strength a little fairy can muster, then raise your chin to look at him. You’re probably the most pathetic creature he has ever seen – you could swear there is no woman alive feeling as weak as you feel now. König cups your face gently, the look in his eyes that of a hunter who has finally caught up with his prey. Warm, merciful, loving.

“Fee… I can still taste you,” he says.

“I can still feel you,” you whisper back. A deer, felled. “But I don’t… I don’t like biting.”

“Biting…?” 

“Teeth.”

“Ja. I noticed.”

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You would let him bite you anywhere and everywhere now. You would actually kill for it if he only laid his mouth on you...

You laugh with leftover tears in your eyes, and your giant smiles back at you, so endearing that you feel like it’s the first day of the rest of your life.

“Do you like bath?”

…

You ease into the warm, almost too warm water with a sigh.

The slaves have had to toil the better half of the evening to heat such a large body of water, and you can’t even begin to imagine where König has gotten the pretty little clay bathtub. It’s the largest pottery you have ever seen; far too small for a giant like him but just enough for a fairy woman like you.

You wash yourself languidly, feeling like the queen of the whole wide earth. Someone has even poured some of the scented oils into the bath, and you could cry from happiness as the sweet scents envelop you. You wonder if the wife of any chieftain has ever experienced such luxury and warmth. 

König has the most pleased smile on his face when he sees how much you appreciate yet another gift of his. He pampers and spoils you so much that you threaten to turn into an overripe grape, too soft and sweet and juicy, unable to keep intact anymore. But there’s a price to be paid, apparently, as he watches you from across the tent, sitting in his chair and pulling back the tunic to reveal the the erection between his legs. It’s the biggest cock you've ever seen, and already standing tall and proud, like a soldier about to go to war.

Your lips part on their own; heat shoots between your legs so fast it knocks the breath out of you. He seems to love your attention and awe, because his cock gives a few pulls just from you staring at it. Pearl-white seed leaks out of the tip as he grabs it inside a strong fist and gives himself a few unhurried strokes. 

“König…?”

You’re breathless, but he’s not: he’s breathing heavily in that chair, powerful thighs spread wide, stroking the thick weapon between his legs while you feel like fainting in your bath.

“When will torture end?”

He's dark, dark and done with patience, and you don't know how to answer such a question. You don't even know where to look.

“Hm? You like to torture men?”

“No,” you whisper, cheeks hot and cunt ridiculously wet.

“Yes you do. A little bully, hmm?”

“König–”

“I’ll show what happens to bullies.”

He lets himself go and rises from the chair. Your mind is of no use to you now: all you can do is stare at that thing between his legs, pointing towards you like a road sign.

He walks to you, cock and gaze equally heavy, and gets rid of his tunic. Then he gestures for you to rise from the tub. You’ve spent enough time there in his opinion, and the water is indeed turning unpleasantly cool – but if you go to him now, you won’t be able to fight him. Not when you’re in such a pleased, lax, purring state. Perhaps that was the whole idea...

You rise slowly, then step out carefully, taking support from the edge of the tub and from his shoulder – and still almost collapse all over him as you try to remain on your feet. He holds you upwards while you try to avoid the murder weapon between his legs, but your giant is not as shameful as you: he grabs your butt and guides you flush against him. You meet his chest with a gasp, the length of him now trapped between you two.

“Wait, I’m—I’m still wet,” you try to peep, but it’s no use. He sweeps you off your feet, no doubt with the intention of carrying you to the bed. 

“I will lick you clean,” he looks at you like you’re already trapped, caught, and bled: such a weak little creature in his arms, trying to beg for mercy with its last dying breath. You cling to him as such, that’s for sure.

“Just... No biting. Please?” You whisper as he lays you on the bed.

“No biting,” he gives his valiant promise, accompanied with a confident flash of a smile.

Gods…

If he’d gotten rid of that stupid hood earlier, your legs would’ve been pudding. They would’ve been as far apart as the two villages east and west of here. That smile would have allowed him to infiltrate everything in between. Perhaps it’s a good thing he is not that clever… 

“Oh gods–” you gasp as he shifts down and lowers himself for worship. His breath hits you first, and the next thing you feel are his lips – still smiling – then the gods-forsaken beast gives you a kiss.

“Oh–”

There is a sudden silence following your moans, then you hear soldiers bursting into laughter outside your tent. They’re warming themselves by the campfire, no doubt, sharing stories about war and women, and now they’ve heard the first mewls of surrender from their hero’s tent, after weeks of quarrelling.

Your cheeks heat up as one of the soldiers utters a hurried sentence and mentions König’s name, after which the merry crew booms to laughter again.

Gods take the Romans and their stupid, lewd jokes...

You try to concentrate on the warmly lit burgundy ceiling as König carries on without paying any attention to what’s happening outside. They could march into the tent and try their best to rip him off your cunt, but you doubt if they would get him to move an inch. He's simply that drunk on your taste.

You wonder if his chin is already covered in your juices because his kisses are open-mouthed and hungry – he even tries to push his tongue inside you. The man has absolutely no shame when he's buried down there, groaning with approval as you roll your hips. You're rutting his face as shyly as you possibly can, and it makes him purr and rumble with bliss. The noise he makes is enough to make you sing too, so filthy that it earns you a whistle from outside.

Shit... They probably think he's fucking and hurting you with his cock – a scary prospect, yes, but you'll have to cross that bridge when you get there – and they couldn't be more wrong. If they only knew what their champion is doing to his slave, lapping and sucking his disobedient woman like a starved dog...

“You like mouth?”

It’s hungry, so dark, the way he asks if you like what he’s doing to you. It’s not the mad lust of a drunken man from a few nights ago; it’s sober, fierce greed with a clear purpose behind it. Your fingers find his hair and tug at it weakly, not to cheer him on, but to take support from something relatively stable. 

“Yes… Yes, just–"

“Gut,” he grins into your folds, coarse stubble scraping you deliciously raw. “I like this too. After I lick you enough, I will fuck you.”

Your fingers curl around his hair, giving him another involuntary tug.

Gods, make him stop talking... Just tie his tongue or something, make him shut up.

Please…

“I will bully you all night with cock. I know you will like. Hm?”

He prattles more nonsense in your cunt, and you can’t hear the men outside anymore. You can’t even see the lamps. You’re in a womb of pleasure, which is funny because there’s a grown man between your legs, dragging his tongue over your slit until you're shaking and crying on the bed. Yes, if this is a womb, you never want to leave...

And he’s not eloquent; you don’t even know what he is trying to do to you. He probably doesn’t know it himself. He’s not trying to fish for cues on what you like: he just does what he feels like doing, which is everything. He tries every single thing. He’s just happy to be down there, flicking and circling his tongue over your nub until you can’t take it anymore.

You're dangerously close, and rise halfway to push his head away because it’s just too much; it’s too much pleasure in one go. He gives you a husky laugh and fights your weak attempts to make him stop, the damned bastard. You’re too frail to resist him, and he knows too much already, repeating the torture until your hips buck up.

“Gut... Like that...?” He asks again, so eager to please that you have to stifle a sob.

“Yes... Yes, just like that,” you sigh while trying to stay in one piece.

“Guide me, little fairy,” he demands, excited like a young, hot recruit. Apparently it's no big deal for him to have his head tugged and shoved and dragged just for a woman's pleasure. It doesn't take away an ounce of his power to be your toy for a moment. Your sharp tongue has left you completely; it is you who is humbled as you guide him back to the right spot, jerking when he licks you just the way you wished.

It’s bad enough that you make a mess on his bed and moan like a paid woman, giving everyone in this camp a taste of what it sounds like when a giant bullies his fairy to the full. But can’t he keep his stupid, lovable mouth shut...

He’s making so much noise that you can both feel and hear him. His moans are hoarse, needy and deprived; they echo somewhere in your core, somewhere inside your most sensitive, aching place, just before he finds it, the right spot, and pushes his tongue inside you.

“Wait…” you gasp, convulsing on the bed now. What the hell does he think he’s—

“Wait—I’m…”

And then you cum, right into his mouth, with an arched back and quivering thighs, with such lewd sounds shooting out of your mouth that complete silence follows outside.

Whatever those soldiers had thought to happen here tonight, they clearly didn't expect to hear that… Nor the cries that follow, so nasty and wanton that König doesn't withdraw, not before you have clenched and cried your fill. He enjoys your peak to the last tremble, but you barely get to catch your breath before he leaves you. He doesn’t even give you a chance to caress his head as thanks for what he just did to you.

His mouth leaves you empty and cold as he rises, watching you like you're his best conquest. His cock is so hard it juts out, immovable like a rock and so intimidating that you stop breathing for a moment.

And he doesn't allow your breathless, shocked state go to waste: he grabs that horse cock and sets it on your flush, soaked lips, and pushes the head inside. More than just the head inside.

“Oh gods, oh fuck–”

Your legs are completely useless, falling to the side as he eases himself into you. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head when he hears you curse for the first time in his presence. More than just amused, he goes deeper still, delighted that he made you say a naughty word with his cock.

You can feel the stretch; you can feel every ridge, every vein, all his thickness filling you with purpose. You can do nothing but flutter your eyes as he takes you, finally, as his own.

And it must be some cruel joke of both Mother Earth and Father Sky that it prolongs whatever bliss he just gave you with his mouth. Your body won't stop having its pleasure; it welcomes him with a string of helpless whimpers. Even your cunt starts to squeeze him like it's the best thing in this world.

And he sees it. He feels it.

“Ja, little one. Time to fuck.”

He continues his journey inside, one massive palm landing on each side of your head as he leans over you.

“Einfach so… Trust me. Hmm?”

You only nod, completely silent and tame, waiting for him to give you more gifts. Mother knows this man is your downfall: your heart and soul are about to burst into flame when you look at him. You want him with your whole being; you want his love and praise so much you could cry.

“You want cock?”

“Yes,” you look up at him, eyes surely shining like stars. “Yes, yes, yes–”

“I will give you. Don’t worry.”

You sob as he withdraws, pulling the long, delicious cock almost completely out. He returns immediately when you whine from the loss. He feels so good, and so, so big… Fulfilling you entirely, every bit of you that was hollow and empty, every little space that needed loving is now his and filled with love.

“Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng,” he huffs and looks down as if to check if it’s true that he’s finally inside you. It could never fit in fully; you both probably knew that. But he’s trying his best.

“What does that mean?” You pant, impatient that he stopped moving.

“Too small... For me...” he laments. Or brags.

“Any woman is too small for you,” you mope underneath him, thinking about whether he has had women who have been able to take him fully in. Women who haven’t been “too small”.

König raises his eyes to you and smiles, revealing a row of white teeth, the scarred lip making his grin look pure and sweet even if he is a menacing man.

Stupid mountain giant… He's just proud of not being able to fit inside you. Your lower lip juts out with a pout, and the cock inside you responds immediately with a pulse. You can feel it — he's fucking excited about you getting angry at him again.

There is a flash of mischief in his eyes – darned bastard – just before he swoops down to attack your neck. Your tits get crushed under a solid chest as he nuzzles close to your ear and gives you lots of love and little bites. He starts to fuck you slowly, and there's nowhere you can escape now, nowhere you can flee his mouth or teeth or cock.

“König, you promised–”

“Aber… You are more tight this way?” 

The breathless laugh that follows leaves you blinking. Of course he can feel the way you tighten around him every time he gives you a little bite.

“Gods, I hate you…” you whisper on his shoulder, thinking about biting him there in return. König laughs in your neck again – your threats of hate have long past lost their intimidating nature and are more like love confessions to him now. And perhaps that’s what they are.

He makes love to you hard and good, and it’s embarrassing, how you're about to cum again around his cock. You were supposed to have your revenge by showing him you have teeth too, but find yourself biting your lip instead, trying to tone down at least some of the filthy sounds that try to escape you.

He's not too rough, at least not yet, happy with listening to the poorly stifled whimpers that follow his every thrust. You thought he'd rail you like an animal, but he seems to settle for making love to you while biting and groping you all over. He savours every thrust like he savoured those grapes you fed him: slowly and intently, with passion instead of greed.

You're squeezing him with everything you have as he rocks you back to the edge. His grunting only make it all worse: he doesn't even try to be quiet and decent, and it's driving you to madness. Why does he have to be so noisy? Why does he have to fuck you so that everyone can hear just how good you feel?

Every soldier in this camp can hear both your moans, his hoarse ones and your weak ones, merging together until you do sound like animals in heat... You’re so wet that some of the men must hear the music of that, too. You never knew your cunt would be so hungry and needy, least of all for a man like him. You grip him as the waves approach, rich moans turning into pathetic little cries as his cock works you open.

“Again…?” He smiles a surprised laugh on your neck. The waves hit you before you can tell him to shut up.

The noise you make is even more obscene this time, and you barely catch a glimpse of his drowsy, victorious stare before your head falls back. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to take in the most powerful orgasm and the most powerful cock of your life without having to see that stupid, happy face of your lovesick giant.

“Nein,” he grabs your jaw inside a huge but gentle hand. “Eyes open.”

He won't even let you cum in peace, but you do as you’re told, finding him watching you like a stormcloud or a god. He watches your every tremble, every whimper, every sigh. He sees the full-blown love in your eyes, and you wonder… Is this what the bards sing about in their stupid songs? 

…Weakness?

Because your heart hurts and your eyes sting, your thighs tremble and your cunt is far too wet and open for him to plough. If this is love, it hurts; it burns far too sweet. It leaves you utterly weak.

“Little one is needy,” he comments softly on your second downfall.

“You’re the one who’s needy–”

Your already weak argument ends in a gasp as he reminds you who you belong to with another good, deep thrust.

“I will put a child in you,” he rumbles, a threat or a promise. “If we do this every night… You will have my child.”

“Then let’s do this every night,” you whisper beneath him, your own purr of a threat. As if you didn’t know how babies were made… To your silent joy, König stops to catch his breath or your words; you’re not entirely sure which. You decide to up the stakes, just to make him fall with you.

“And every morning too?”

“Ach, du kleine–” he crumbles, voice turning to dust from your innocent suggestion.

If you thought he was a little too in love with you before, the look on his face now is worth all the gold in the world. You could swear that your kind question is the sole reason for this man cumming on the spot. Perhaps your body is to blame for it too; he couldn't keep his paws off when you were being sulky and difficult, so how could he take it when you're pleased and loving and all puffed up?

You see the brief flash of vulnerability, the mortal fragility in his eyes just before he shoots his load with a painful-sounding groan. The sound that leaves him is a mixture of desperation and release – even giants can cry, you think as you watch how beautifully he comes undone. He makes sure his seed is sent deep inside you by burying his cock into you, as far as it can go; the intention behind it is so clear that you wouldn't be surprised if you got heavy with a child after this first time.

He falls on top of you after, drained and spent and body heaving from exertion. There’s no other sound in the night but the satisfied panting of you two: the soldiers outside are rendered silent by the sounds of true lovemaking, even the wind spirits are hushed tonight.

You’re completely filled, and with his cock still inside you, he’s preventing any precious seed from escaping. You’re only glad he’s too weak to move because you’d happily keep him here forever, inside and on top of you like this.

“You are pleased…?” He turns his head a little, sounding worried enough to make you hug him tight.

“Yes. Very much,” you whisper, and he moves to rise and look you in the eyes. 

“Gut.”

It’s cute to be nose to nose like this with him, eyes locked together, lips only a hair’s breadth apart. He looks so intoxicated and happy without even being drunk that you break into a small laugh, eyes brimming with happy tears, the washing away of relief. He smiles too, then laughs with you.

The soldiers outside might think it an odd business: to make a woman moan and laugh with a cock. You were brought to this tent screaming, and he made you scream again, just not the way they thought.

The sound of your mutual laughter rises in the tent, up towards the heavens, surely making even the Sky Father smile above.

…

You do it every night, and every morning, too.

Sometimes, you do it during the day after bathing in the stream. After washing and playing in the water, you rush to the shore together, but König is always faster than you. He throws your dress away or holds it up above his head, far from your reach, smiling like the most innocent man in the world. He's far from innocent, though: his cock hangs heavy between his legs, swelling just from seeing you angry and flustered and wet. 

“Bully,” you accuse, utterly in love and out of breath, earning you another attack of a love-hungry giant. You forget the dress when he kneels on the grass, kisses your stomach and your thighs, keeps you in place for his mouth with two strong arms and a love that turns your whole body weak. 

“Pretty,” is the only thing he breathes as an answer before he scoops up your leg and spreads you open for his mouth.

Your head rolls back with a choked sigh, the drops on your skin dry on their own. Somehow, you end up on the grass with his mouth glued on you. The sun plays in your hair; it dances on your face as he gives you more and more until you know, you just know that if you do this every night and morning and day, you will definitely have his child.

He tells you his real name, his true name, the one his mother gave him. You moan it in his ear just before you cum around his length. Sometimes, it makes him purr; other times, it makes him grunt. Once, you hear a soft, pitched whine. 

He’s more rough when you’re on your knees. You’re shy and wet when he commands you to prop yourself on your elbows and show him your cunt. He licks you from front to back, feasts on you until your breaths turn to shivers. You squeeze your eyes shut from how obscene the scene must look; you hope to all the gods the Roman slave won’t come to ask his travel guides back when König finally rises and takes a wide stance behind you. He sets himself on your opening and pushes in, fat and greedy. 

You can only whimper as he starts the thrusts, starved and slow, picking up the pace and holding you in place by the hips when you approach the brink of another collapse. You fear you will lose your mind if he keeps doing this to you every day. The only thing you hear are the breathless, warm grunts of encouragement behind you.

“You can take it. You can take it. Already took it, little one…”

He won’t stop, not even as you cry out loud, the cock hitting you in places that make your legs nearly give in. He won’t stop even as tears brim, not even as you start to sound like a tortured animal; no, he just tightens his grip on your waist and pounds you harder. You cum with a moan that would make Roman whores blush, but your lover doesn’t mind at all. He cums right after you, with a roar that could raise the reverend dead from their mounds.

Afterwards, he’s gentle again. He gathers you in his arms like his most valuable possession, caressing and breathing you in, giving you a soft kiss behind your ear.

“You’re... mean,” you try to remember how to breathe as he gives you more of those hungry kisses. You already know he likes it when you’re so spent you don’t have the strength to squirm or fight him.

“Ja. And you become more nice when I bully you,” he whispers in your ear. “More calm… Less difficult.”

“Well, you don’t,” you turn inside his hold, eyes shining brighter than the stars or even the sun. “Crazy man…”

“You have robbed me of my sword and shield, it’s true. Robbed my heart too. Little thief.”

“Thief? You’re the one who stole me…!”

“And I’ll never let you go.”

You wriggle a hand to cup his face, meeting his eyes with such helplessness that it’s not even funny anymore. If he’s joking or playing with you now, you’ll kill him with his own swords.

“You promise?”

“I make a vow,” he declares ceremoniously, with a hand on his heart. But you doubt that he’s playing any games; you wonder if this man is even capable of lying or deception. You hug him so tight that he has to let out a grunt – surprised and pleased – after which you have to bury your face in his neck so that he won't see your tears.

“I am in love with you, Fee,” he whispers in your ear while caressing your hair, ever poetic for such a simple man. “Tell me. Do you like me too…?”

“Yes,” you breathe a half-cry, half-laugh in his neck. “Yes, you crazy giant. I like you too.”

You rise just enough to kiss him. It’s hungry and delivers everything you can’t say. You can’t tell him you love him; you simply can’t. You’re not ready for the painful happiness it would bring forth. He stabs you full of it anyway.

“I will never let you go. Never. Not when I finally found you, little one...”

…

Summer comes.

The camp moves lazily to its next destination, but when the next battle comes, König refuses to fight. 

His soldiers blame you, of course. You have bewitched him with your softness, making him soft and spineless as well. It is unheard of that a warrior like him would fall like this: out of some woman’s underhanded spell rather than dying gloriously in the field by a barbarian blade or two. Even poison is considered better than this.

No one understands that there is no hex. The war is still being fought, this time inside his soul. It’s not just you preventing him from taking up arms; it’s something else, something old and deep-rooted you've managed to stir in him. Something ferocious, something that has been asleep for a long time, something that is far from all things soft.

You two sneak out from the camp after the bulk of the army has marched away. He takes you to the seaside again, to a wild, roaring shore. You laugh and bask in the sun, swim in the sea and eat the first berries of the season. You lie on the tall grass, naked as the day you were born: it's simply too hot to wear anything except your glowing skin. König starts to ask you peculiar questions while tracing the soft line of your spine. 

He asks what kind of house you would like to live in, and tries to find out in a roundabout way if you would like to live in a forest or in the hills. You treasure the sound of waves, and König likes the sound of the wind in trees, but you both love steep hills and the open view of plains. You get the idea that he may want to retire somewhere in the near future. 

He tells you he is not a good fisherman but can hunt everything that moves. He is good with a spear, with traps and the bow, and he’s tired of hunting humans who only wish to live in peace. The arena he could understand, but the war on foreign lands, not. And if you begin to swell with his offspring, the Roman encampment at war is the last place for a sweet little fairy like you. He asks what kind of village you used to live in and is somewhat sad to hear all the things you tell him. He says it sounds like home, the one he was taken from many years ago. 

When you return to the camp, it’s like you two are a different species altogether, two wild animals who sneak from the gates back to the flock, back to being human, back to being caged and tamed and stunted. The grumpy, tired soldiers witness your wildness and happiness with sullen distaste. To them, your appetite for freedom is the filthiest, most treacherous thing in the world. 

The commander of the troops summons König at his feet and threatens to flog him if he ever skips a battle again. He’s told that only barbarians ignore orders like this: at the turn of a whim or a woman or wind. If he doesn’t remember who he is, not the reckless murderer of his youth but a man reborn, a noble Roman citizen, he will risk descending into apathy and greed again. Was this the case, Rome will guide him back to fold again by the crack of a whip if it has to.

That night, you tell him that you love him. Wherever he goes, you will go. That night, when you’re lying in his arms, sweaty and spent and thoroughly happy, he speaks words so wild it shakes the whole tent with a wind.

“If I kill the soldiers, will you come with me?”

It’s only a mutter, a murmured, careful whisper, but it makes you rise to sit and place a hand on his chest for extra support.

“Kill the soldiers? You mean… Kill the Romans?”

“Ja. All of them.”

The shock quickly makes way to disbelief. Can such a thing even be done? He’s a giant, but he’s still just one man. But König doesn’t look restless at all; he looks like a man who has finally made a decision he should have made years ago. He looks like someone who is at peace with their soul.

"Where would we go?" You whisper weakly, unsure if he has given this enough thought or thought at all. It’s now the wanderer in him who speaks, the adventurer who fears nothing because he has already lost everything – and found the most precious, essential thing. 

You. Himself…

Free will.

“Wherever you want.”

“What if you get killed…?”

“You take treasure and horse and go.”

…

Your mother always said that it's useless to sway a man if he has chosen to stand up and fight. She told you that the best you could do is go grab a sword and join him.

That is why you give him your blessing – your full, ardent blessing.

It makes him stronger than ever: were he to go out there with nothing but his skin, he would be victorious. The oak that hears your magnificent spell shivers from fear above you as you call down earth, fire and wind. 

You call the spirits from below to guide his feet and make them swift and silent as a feather in the wind. You call down the lightning from the sky to accompany his sword as he deals his blows. You cloak him with the fury of the dead; they will smite down his enemies when they catch even a glimpse of him. You shroud him with the Mother's blessing so that he will be untouchable, unstoppable, invincible as he deals death among the Romans.

It’s a terrible spell; even the moon withdraws into a cloud when She hears it. Not even the lady of silver twilight dares to reveal this giant to the Romans as he’s about to descend upon them.

He rises with the power of fifteen men and gives you a kiss that nearly topples you. He smiles before he leaves you, and never looks back as he goes to do the deed of a legend.

You watch the massacre up from a hill. A safe distance from the camp, but close enough to see how König destroys a whole cohort by himself. The plant you mixed into the “reconciliation wine” he gave his soldiers and the commander before nightfall makes it laughably easy because most of the men are still half asleep when they burn inside their tents. The oil spilt on the dry dirt and linen roars aflame now with the help of the wind and earth spirits as König torches the camp. The occasional few soldiers that rise to meet him with fear in their stare are already broken by your spell before his swords impale them. 

The old translator is the only Roman who wasn’t given a cup of foxglove wine because he was König’s slave, and now he can see that he is blessed among men. The God of War faces him with swords pointing to the ground, fury planting his feet wide, and it takes the old Roman a while to understand that he’s the only man who gets to walk out of this camp unharmed. As grumpy and unsociable as he is, you wish him good fortune on his future journeys, even utter a quick protection spell to shroud him as he leaves towards his destiny on enemy land.

The slave women, sober, confused, and free, run amock to gather weapons, cloaks, food, and valuables before escaping the camp. König doesn’t even notice them, and they pay little mind to the enraged god ramming through puny mortals because they’re too busy getting out of the burning castra.

How fitting it is that the only people escaping the hellfire are a few beaten women and an old, weak-calved Roman – every able-bodied soldier burns inside his tent or meets their end at your lover’s blade.

The wind spirits help spread the fire so eagerly that you begin to fear that König won’t make it out in time. You whisper prayers into your fist, curled around the Mother who has already given you so much. She has also taken away everything; like seasons, she has reaped and sown, but if she reaps your lover now, you will walk into the sea.

Mother is merciful and returns him to you, unharmed and glorious. He's the same ferocious beast you saw half a moon ago, and also the same ferocious man who was inside you this very morning. You see a god of war, and he sees the mother of life and death, perhaps, because his first words to you are a ripe offering.

“I avenged them all,” he says when he reaches you, thrumming with victory and smelling of smoke and ruin and blood.

He has been born again; he has walked to a new dawn through fire and death and returns to your arms like you two have known each other since the beginning of time. You’re not sure if he talks about his fallen ones or your fallen ones, or everyone who has fallen to these particular Roman spears. You’re not sure if this is his downfall because what you’re looking at is only the downfall of the Roman campaign on your lands. You and König are very much wild and spirited and free. If this is a downfall, it feels like being lifted towards the sky. You see in his eyes that he feels the same as you.

The whole world is new as you leave towards a new life. Sun rises, and takes years off your backs. You wash him in the sea and kiss the salt away from his lips, and it feels only right that he takes you on the grass after slaughtering your enemies.

You bury the statues and the bronze sword in your old village, long abandoned and thoroughly looted. The old woman is in her hut, dead as a stone, and she finally looks happy, with a calm little smile on her face and flowers in her hand. She looks like a young girl, almost, ready to meet the spring of her life.

"Ready for adventure, little one?" König smiles as he raises you to his horse. He takes direction from the sun while you look down at his happy, golden form – your god, your life, your love. 

Your new beginning.

...

Translations:

Richtig? - Right?/Correct?

Einfach so - Just like that

Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng - Damn… Gods, you are tight

Aber… - But…

Ach du kleine… - Oh you little…

Scheisse - Shit/Fuck

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x female reader #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #konig x you #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig smut #könig fluff #könig imagine

[palmtreesx3]

Deeper for You

Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.

Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.

Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.

The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.

This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.

"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.

"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.

"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"

"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "

"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.

"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.

"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "

"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."

"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."

Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.

Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.

"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.

"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.

"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.

"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"

"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.

Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.

"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.

"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."

After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.

"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.

It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.

The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.

The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.

It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.

You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.

The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.

Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.

It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.

"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.

Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.

But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.

So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."

Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"

Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."

"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.

"Steve." You say, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.

"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."

When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.

So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.

A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "

"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.

And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.

"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.

"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '

Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.

You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "

"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.

He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.

Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.

When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."

"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.

"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"

You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.

He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.

Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.

This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.

In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.

"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.

In that moment you decide you're not done with him.

Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."

You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."

"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."

"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."

And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.

"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"

"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"

Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.

A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."

"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."

"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."

"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.

You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.

The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.

"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.

"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.

"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.

"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.

"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."

His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.

In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.

Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."

You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."

"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.

"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.

You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.

"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"

"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.

He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.

It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.

You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."

You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.

"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"

"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.

"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.

Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #Spotify

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt5

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: San calls you, and Wooyoung shows off his skills at photography.

wc: 7.9k

ch. warnings: dom San, sub Wooyoung, voyeur reader, phone sex, m x m, power bottom San, anal sex, (guided) masturbation, a nude from Woosan, dirty talk, degradation (@ Wooyoung; ‘fucktoy’ is used), felching / ass eating, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, 1x ‘cumdump’ as praise), pervy vibes at the start; Woosan are unaware of the voyeurism at first but everything is consensual

also mentions of: choking, hair pulling, blow job, dumbification, spitroasting, face fucking, creampie

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

It actually takes a while for you to meet up with San and Wooyoung again. Why did nobody ever warn you as a kid that ‘schedule meetups with friends’ would be one of the most frustrating challenges you face in adulthood?

Even worse, it’s almost embarrassing how badly your neglected cooch complains about the lack of action. Your body has acclimatised to those intense orgasms real damn fast, and you’ve been so busy that there’s barely any opportunities for some proper self-care to tide you over.

You’re more than a little wired these days; so when a friend is forced to cancel plans at the last minute, it honestly comes as a relief rather than a disappointment. You indulge in the happy rush of an unexpected free evening, giving yourself a chance to relax, to fully relax — even if it will be without the assistance of two certain men. You’ll take what you can get.

You slip into the bedroom, mind set on your favourite vibrator; only to stop in your tracks when you hear a faint but unmistakable noise from the other apartment.

Huh.

Sounds like you might get a little assistance after all.

Quiet moans drift over from the other side of your shared wall, connecting to San’s own bedroom. It’s like your ears have been fine-tuned to their pleasure now, easily identifying Wooyoung’s muffled whines between San’s groans. An instant ache burns between your thighs, heat awakened by vivid memories.

You hesitate for a split-second, trained by old instincts to grab for your headphones and ignore those muted, lewd noises — until you remember that you don’t have to anymore. The guys made that clear enough.

(Wooyoung had been the one to bring the subject back up again, because of course he did. At first you assumed he was trying to fluster you; except that he actually looked disappointed when you admitted that no, you had never touched yourself to their overheard pleasure.

“Well, don’t deprive yourself next time, alright?” he told you with a playful wink.

“Woo, I think we’re supposed to keep it down next time,” San had pointed out, but stopped his chastising when he noticed the way you perked up at Wooyoung’s words. His smile had turned sly, “Or we won’t, I guess. Yeah, knock it out of the park, neighbour.”

Which is exactly what you plan to do now.)

You decide on manual labour, not wanting to risk San and Wooyoung hearing the buzzing from your toy. You make yourself comfortable in bed, wiggling out of your jeans and underwear as you lay back with your head against the pillow, legs propped up with ankles pressed against your ass to open yourself up. A testing graze through your folds confirms your suspicions of a growing wetness, but you still suck two fingers in your mouth for some extra help.

With your tongue curving around your fingers and saliva gathering rapidly, free hand fondling at your clothed breast, you close your eyes and focus on the intimate noises that you are privy to.

It’s mostly San that you can hear right now, if you’re not mistaken. His quiet moans mingle with hard breaths, an occasional shuddered whine. You shudder along with him, wondering what Wooyoung is doing to elicit those sounds.

It’s so easy now, to visualise how Wooyoung might be chocking on San’s cock, throat gagging around the thick girth. How his eyes tear up when his nose presses against San’s pelvis, against the light feathering of neatly maintained pubic hair. San’s muted noises would be all too understandable; you now know from first hand experience how gifted that damn mouth is.

His fingers might be tangled in Wooyoung’s hair to force him deeper, pulling at the red strands just the way Wooyoung likes. San would stare down at him with that heated intense gaze, brow knitted, his hips rocking into Wooyoung’s mouth.

Curiosity purrs inside you, wondering how close you are to the truth.

Maybe Wooyoung is sucking San off just how you pictured; but maybe San is on his knees instead, resting his arms on the bed as a pillow for his head, ass perked up in the air while Wooyoung spreads his cheeks to feast on him. Or maybe you are wrong entirely; maybe the reason you don’t hear Wooyoung anymore is because you’d misheard earlier and he isn’t even there. It could be just you and San, both taking matters into your own hands.

The endless possibilities spark your fantasies into overdrive, and you pop your glistening fingers out of your mouth with a quiet moan.

You work up another thick globule of spit to coat onto your already glossy fingertips, just to get yourself extra nice and sloppy; but some spills onto your chin, and you are forced to bite back another moan as it leaks down your jawline.

Already making a mess of yourself. You wonder what the guys would have to say about that.

Just the thought causes a sharp pulse in your abdomen. Would they tease you for how needy you are? San might suck the wet trail of saliva right off of you, leisurely tonguing at your heated skin. “Let us take care of that, baby,” Wooyoung might tell you, hands on your thighs as he keeps your legs spread and leans in close, slowly letting spit dribble down from his lips onto your aching cunt.

You can’t wait a moment longer and reach down, fingers clumsy with haste and arousal. You sigh at the contact with your sodden folds, the extra lubrication entirely unnecessary. You start off with slow swirls around your clit, building up the pressure while you continue to listen in.

San’s groans get a little louder, breathless and needy, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to muffle a noise of your own.

Because you had weighed your options; to either shamelessly make your presence known, or stay unnoticed. You had decided on the latter, not wanting to intrude on their moment — though you can’t deny there also is a thrill to it for you.

It is almost like a little game; trying to keep silent, to not get caught. Luxuriating in every lewd noise that drifts your way, swallowing down your own.

Despite having San and Wooyoung’s consent, somehow the act of quietly listening in without their knowledge still feels a little taboo. A little perverted. You are hyperaware of the activity on the other side of the wall, while they have no awareness of you at all. And you have to be careful with the presses against your clit to keep it that way, slowly working yourself up.

There is some muted talk; so you hadn’t been mistaken earlier, Wooyoung is there. You can’t quite make out their words, but the tone hints at urgency.

They quiet down for a moment, then it is Wooyoung who gets noisier with those familiar, whiny moans. The bed creaks underneath them, growing louder and quicker, just as Wooyoung’s whines do. Now you feel a bit more confident in the truth of your fantasies; San thrusting into him with those brutal hips, fucking Wooyoung into a cockdumb daze.

Your body is ablaze, like you are in the room with them. You get lost in the images, in the memories, and start to forget yourself — forget that you are supposed to stay quiet. The heel of your hand presses against your clit as you push two fingers inside at once, but you let out a strangled whine of dissatisfaction, knowing either of their cocks would fill you up so much better.

(Fuck, had it only taken this little for them to ruin you?)

You keep up a steady pace, and use your free hand to rub at your clit for some much-needed relief. Again, it’s hard not to draw comparisons — between your fingers and Wooyoung’s mouth or his nose, it’s an easy choice which you prefer on your clit — but you do know exactly how to make yourself feel good, which patterns will lead you to that illusive edge your cunt is begging for.

Wooyoung’s whines are growing louder; he is as shameless as ever in his lack of restraint, only spurring you on to do the same. It’s like Wooyoung’s pleasure is tied to your own, pulling you along higher with his irresistible moans, evoking imagery of his mouth falling open, a thin trail of spit escaping past the corner of his lips as he claws at the bed-sheets, at San’s shoulders, at anything within reach.

You clamp around your fingers when Wooyoung’s voice breaks with a cried sob, and you break right with him. A desperate whimper falls past your lips as your hips buck up against your fingers, a sharp surge of heat searing right through you.

It is not the longest orgasm you’ve had, but it is intense; and a distinct silence greets you when you come down from your high, panting hard. The abrupt stop of noises from the other side of the wall can pretty much only mean one thing.

San and Wooyoung heard you.

Well. Fuck.

You groan when you realise that you’ve failed at your own self-imposed challenge. So much for staying unnoticed; you got caught with your hand right in the metaphorical cookie jar (the cookie jar being a metaphor for your cunt).

It’s not the end of the world, of course, since they did give you the go-ahead earlier. Still, the sudden silence causes a flash of self-consciousness, and for a split-second you worry that San and Wooyoung might have realised in this very moment that this type of voyeurism is not their thing after all.

But then there is some murmured talk, and a breathless laugh from Wooyoung eases the knot in your stomach. His laugh quickly turns into a another moan, desperate and whiny, and your tension fades completely.

You relax as the bed on the other side starts creaking again, even feeling a renewed throb of pleasure between your thighs, angling for attention. (“Greedy,” you can almost hear San’s voice purr in your ear, so pleased with your neediness. “Already that sweet cunt of yours is begging for a second round.”)

Now that they’re clued in on your presence, you expect Wooyoung and San to simply continue on. Maybe play it up a little; Wooyoung in particular seems like the type to deliberately put on a show. Maybe San will rile him up on purpose, pushing Wooyoung to the very limit for his benefit and yours.

What you do not expect, is for your phone to start buzzing.

“Fuck!” you hiss under your breath. You fling yourself upright, frantically wiping your hands on the sheets before you grab the phone from the nightstand, spitting muttered curses at the interruption. Who the fuck still calls these days? You are all ready to push it away — but you freeze at the name on display.

San.

You blink at your phone, struggling to comprehend the situation, still hearing the creaks and moans on the other side. You accept the call, and slowly lift your phone up to your ear.

“So, uh—”

But it is Wooyoung who interrupts you with a loud whimper; you hear it slightly echoed, one muffled through the wall, and one crystal clear through the phone. You shudder at the sound, thighs clenching.

“Hey Woo, having a nice night in?” you chuckle breathlessly, sitting back down on the bed. Your frustrations over getting caught are all but forgotten.

San says something in the background, and Wooyoung swallows down a moan. “H-hey. Is it okay that we’re calling? We can hang up right now, if you’d rather not.” Again, San speaks up, and something about his tone gives you the sense that he is passing instructions. Wooyoung breaths shakily, “We can pretend we didn’t hear you. Up to you. We’re — shit — we’re good either way. F-fuck, San…”

“No, it’s okay,” you hum, reaching a lazy hand back down to slide a finger through your soaked folds.

Wooyoung scoffs at something San tells him. “I was gonna ask her that anyway!” he says, huffy. “S-so, hngh, do you want to know what San is doing to me?”

“I have my suspicions,” you say with a light sigh, pressing a little firmer against your clit. Feeling a little bolder. “Is he fucking you, Wooyoung? Stuffing you full?”

“N-no. He — mmhh! — he’s in my lap. R-riding my cock. He’s— fuck, mhf—!”

That is all the information you get, the rest left up to your fantasies; Wooyoung chokes up with a strangled cry. The sound is only faintly echoed through the wall — but through the phone you can hear every tiny hitch of his breath, even the smallest whimpers transmitted directly into your ear.

But suddenly even those noises are muffled, replaced by a wet smacking noise of what you guess to be lips meeting in a feverish kiss. San groans into the phone, presumably sticking his tongue down Wooyoung’s throat in a sloppy make-out, swallowing every whine.

You breath picks up as you listen to them, the creaking of San’s bed slowing down while the wet noises of their mouths grow more frantic. Gasps and whines intermingle, including your own, and light-headedness starts to set in.

You blink out of a daze when the sounds break off and Wooyoung moans in frustration — but his voice through the phone becomes less distinct, and it is San whom you hear next.

“Hey, neighbour,” he says in a teasing, almost casual tone. His voice is strained, but shockingly composed for a man who is allegedly fucking himself on Wooyoung’s cock. “Thought you weren’t home today. Are we wearing you out already?”

The squeaky sounds from the bed continue, San’s breath growing raspier. The sound is like a distant rolling storm in your ears, and you bite back a quiet moan. “F-friend cancelled. Didn’t know you’d be home either. Sorry for interrupting.”

San lets out a husky chuckle. “Not at all,” he says, then grunts tightly. “Hmm, that’s it. Stay just like that for me, hm?”

You shallow thickly, your overactive imagination firing on all cylinders. Is San holding Wooyoung down; his phone in one hand and the other pinning Wooyoung’s wrists into the mattress? Or is he yanking at Wooyoung’s hair, forcing his head to tilt back? San might even have his hand on Wooyoung’s throat, squeezing ever so lightly. You can picture it so easily, with Wooyoung looking positively wrecked underneath San, tears streaked across his cheeks as he draws stifled breaths.

(San might be looking halfway wrecked himself, sweaty and flushed while his hips smoothly roll into Wooyoung’s lap.)

“Do you want to keep talking, or just listen?” San asks, and you need a moment to remember he’s speaking to you. You are an active participant now, no longer just an eavesdropper.

“Talk,” you admit breathlessly. San’s voice is husky from exertion, addictive to your eardrums. Earlier you had indulged in being unseen; but now you can’t bring yourself to part with him yet. “Please.”

San hums approvingly at your plea. “Did you cum yet, baby? Is that what we heard?”

“Y-yeah. Couldn’t help it, Wooyoung, he… ”

“Ahh, Wooyoungie…” San says fondly. “He never knows how to keep quiet either. Such pretty noises he makes, doesn’t he?” San’s praise draws out more of those exact pretty noises, a faint “Sannie…” floating in from the background. San gently shushes Wooyoung, and turns his attention back to you. “Want to cum again? I’ll help you out.”

The straightforward confidence of his offer already helps you along just fine, his cocky grin ghosting across your mind’s eye. “Fuck,” you sigh, fingers clenching around your phone. “Please, San.”

“Are you sitting or lying down?”

“Sat up to get my phone…”

He tsks. “That won’t do. Lay back down, phone on speaker.”

You do just so, sending a silent apology to your other neighbours. Sure, the guy living downstairs from San is always off on some business trip or another, but old Mrs. Yoon from the apartment underneath you is more of a homebody.

But she is quickly dispelled from your considerations when Wooyoung gets antsy while waiting, whining louder now that San’s focus is on you. He starts to babble in incoherent desperation, but he cries out as a resounding smack cuts him off, his whimpers slowly dying down.

“Don’t interrupt while I’m on the phone,” San tells him, coldly. “Sounds like you need a reminder. What are you, Wooyoung? Tell me now.”

Wooyoung chokes out a word that you can’t make out.

“That’s right,” San says coolly, satisfied by the quick response; but curiosity licks at your cunt with hungry urgency.

You settle down on the bed, phone by your ear as instructed. “W-what is he, San?”

San puts his own phone on speaker as well and the sound changes, picking up Wooyoung’s laboured gasps for air. “Tell her, Woo. Tell her what you are.”

“Just, nghh, just a fucktoy…”

“Exactly,” San coos, while heat flashes between your thighs at Wooyoung’s wretched voice. “And fucktoys should wait quietly for their turn. Now… baby, are you all settled for me?”

He’s talking to you again, you realise. “Y-yeah,” you moan, hands wandering down to your dripping cunt. “Help me cum, San. Please.”

“I’ll get you there, baby, don’t worry. I got you.” San had spoken coldly to Wooyoung, but now all the chill in his voice has evaporated, replaced by a silky warmth that wraps reassuringly around you. “Are you touching yourself? Tell me what you’re doing.”

“T-touching my clit…”

“Hm, good. What else?” His breathing is a little ragged, while Wooyoung’s tiny moans remain a steady constant in the periphery of your hearing. “Got your fingers inside that sweet cunt, stretching yourself out?”

You let out a soft whine, shaking your head until you remember San can’t see you. “I did earlier, but…”

“But?”

“Wasn’t enough… Wasn’t your cock…”

“Shit.” San groans hoarsely, a light shudder to his exhale. “Did I wreck you that quickly, baby? Won’t settle for anything less than my dick filling you up. Soon,” he rasps, “you’ll have me again soon. But for now, I need you to put in two fingers, alright? Don’t try for more; it will never feel as good as me burying my cock in that wet pussy like it belongs there, so don’t frustrate yourself. Just give a little extra attention to that needy clit and you’ll be just fine. You’re in good hands, promise.”

You follow orders with a hitched moan, thumb pressing down harder on the swollen nub. Already tension builds in your core, coiling tighter when the faint squeaking of San’s bed reaches your ear again, quiet enough to only be audible through the phone. Wooyoung hisses in response, struggling to stay still.

“Hear me move?” San asks, and you whine in confirmation. “Try to match me, alright?” He starts up a slow but steady pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin drifting through. “Fuck yourself on your fingers just like I’m fucking myself on this sweet little fucktoy.”

Wooyoung can’t help himself, whimpering at San’s words and growing louder with every jostle of the bed.

“I-I am, Sannie,” you whine, and somehow the slide of your fingers is more satisfying this time around, guided along by San’s own movements. You can easily picture those flexible hips swerving against Wooyoung’s lap, gradually picking up speed. “Feels, hmm, feels b-better now.”

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” San praises, grunting lowly as he moves. “Still rubbing your clit? A little harder now. Just how you like it, make yourself feel good for me.”

Your back arches with a pitchy moan, toes curling into the sheets. After a moment of searching, your fingers manage to slip into that sweet spot, sparks jolting through your nerves as you whimper shakily.

“Right there,” San groans at your sudden increase in volume. “Don’t slow down now, keep at it right there. Mmmh, I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? You’re always so fucking wet for us, making a mess. Fuck, can you hear her, Woo? Getting herself off at just the thought of us.”

You whine, almost a little embarrassed — except that San sounds so fucking pleased about it.

“W-wanna see…” Wooyoung croaks.

“Oh, I’m sure you want a whole lot more than that,” San says with a tight chuckle. “Wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, let alone your mouth. What about you, baby?” he asks you, the smooth purr of his voice raising the hairs in your neck. “What’d you like to do if you were here, not stuck on the other side of that damn wall?”

“W-watch. Just wanna watch,” you admit, completely earnest. For all the temptations of Wooyoung eating you out until you cry, or San fucking you into a stupor, you are entirely fixated on the noises you hear right now.

It’s just too powerful, the visual of San riding Wooyoung’s dick; how Wooyoung is at San’s mercy despite being balls deep inside him. Sobbing with every forceful snap of San’s hips, driving Wooyoung closer and closer to the brink. You imagine how San’s head is thrown back, brow knitted with concentration and pleasure as sweat beads on his tanned skin, Wooyoung’s nails clawing at his waist and ass. Did he cum yet? Or is he hard and aching, denying himself until he ensures Wooyoung is utterly ruined?

Somehow you can feel San’s grin through the phone, like he knows exactly what is flashing through your mind.

“Cute,” he murmurs. “Not in a greedy mood today, hm?”

Wrong. You are greedy. Hunger gnaws at your stomach, sharp and ravenous. You’d tear down that wall with your bare hands if you could, just for a glimpse. Your cunt twitches around your fingers at the fact that they’re so closeby, yet so far out of reach.

“Hm… Wooyoung?” San asks, and there seems to be a moment of non-verbal communication going on at their end. “Alright, baby. Thought of a little something that might help you out. Would you like that?”

“H-help me out?” you say, too dazed to comprehend.

“Yeah.” The complaints of San’s bed slow down until they stop completely. “Wooyoung is a great photographer, did you know?”

The daze lifts, comprehension dawns. “…Oh.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Fuck yes.”

A rustling sound comes through the line as San hands it over to Wooyoung (or so you assume). “Shit,” Wooyoung mumbles, “that’s so fucking hot,” and after a beat you get the notification of a sent photo.

You shakily clean your fingers on the sheets as you grab for your phone — and almost drop it on your face when the file opens.

Wooyoung hadn’t exaggerated; it is fucking hot.

He has kept San’s face carefully out of frame; it cuts off at the neck, barely high enough to catch a few of his freckles — but the rest of him is on full display. San has one hand loosely wrapped around his darkened cock, balls hanging heavy underneath and a beautiful thick glob of precum leaking from the tip, captured perfectly on camera. He lifted his other hand to rest on the back of his neck, showing off his broad chest. His skin glows with the glisten of sweat, begging to be licked off his dark nipples and tensed abs.

San is leaning back slightly in a way that has to be deliberate, his muscular thighs clenched as he cants his hips forward; lifting himself up just enough to give you a clear view of Wooyoung disappearing inside his tight hole.

You can’t breathe, eyes impossibly wide as you take in every detail — and then your phone buzzes again, a second photo sent your way.

“Wha—?”

The sound you make at the picture meets somewhere in-between a moan and a giggle; Wooyoung has sent you a fucking selfie.

He is giving the camera a cheeky wink, eyes heavy-lidded and a strain pulling at his lips. His face is flushed, eyebrow piercing glinting through the bangs of his mussed up hair. It’s starting to grow out; dark roots clearly visible and the vivid red hue fading to something a little softer, not quite pink-ish but heading there. He has his head tilted to the side to showcase a prominent hickey on his neck.

“You look like you’re having a good time, Wooyoung,” you try to tease, but it comes out breathless.

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse chuckle. “Well, you saw the view that I got here, right?”

You swipe back to the first image, and inhale sharply all over again at the sight. “San wasn’t kidding, you are a great photographer,” you murmur, admiring the flattering angle at which he caught San’s body, emphasising his impressive physique and mouth-watering proportions. You suspect it’s a challenge for San to take an unflattering photo, but Wooyoung certainly did him justice.

Wooyoung seems to agree with you. “Well, the model h-helps,” he says, ending on a sudden, hitched moan. The noise of lips wetly pressing against skin wafts through the phone, slowly getting louder as Wooyoung whimpers shakily. “Ngh, San…”

San groans in response, lavishing Wooyoung with heated attention for a moment longer, every moan prickling across your skin. “Give me that,” San eventually says. “I wanna talk to her again.”

Breath catches in your throat, anticipation setting you on edge.

“Hey neighbour,” he says, lowly. “Are you still touching yourself?”

“N-no, got distracted…” you admit.

He chuckles, a raspy sound that goes straight into your ear and your cunt. “That’s okay. But you still want to cum, right?” San hums in acknowledgement at your whiny moan. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Then stop neglecting that poor clit, hm?”

You keep your eyes glued on your phone as you reach back down with one hand, sighing in relief at the contact with your slick folds.

“Let me hear those pretty moans,” San encourages, starting to move again, and you can’t even be sure if he’s talking to you or Wooyoung.

Either way, you obey him — you have no choice but to. Not when a downright pornographic soundscape flows forth from your phone; wet squelches and skin slapping against skin, San’s rough grunts and Wooyoung’s desperate keening. Within no time, you are back on the steady path to blissful release.

San swears under his breath. “C’mon. Are you gonna make me cum like the good little fucktoy you are?”

Wooyoung breathes with broken sobs, his tongue tripping over curses and wailing futilely as San rides him hard. San is unravelling himself too, panting roughly, biting back his moans. He is nearing that edge fast, and you are right with him — but neither of you are as fast as Wooyoung.

“Hm, hm, hm. Ah, S-Sannie, hmgh, f-fuck, fuck fuck, I won’t— I can’t— hnnn ah aHH—”

He cums with a pained, almost soundless cry; voice trapped in his choked-up throat. The strangled cry drives straight into your cunt, along with images of his convulsing body, trembling uncontrollably as he empties himself in San’s tight hole. It topples you right over, your own cries anything but silent. The hand holding your phone falls limply onto the bed, sparks shooting down all the way to your toes as your hips jerk into your fingers, chasing every cresting wave of pleasure.

The waves keep at you for what feels like forever, until they slowly begin to die down. You’re still gasping for air as you land softly from your high, accompanied by the sound of Wooyoung whimpering quietly, Together, you catch your breath.

“Haaa, hm, s-shit. ‘M sorry, San…” he sniffles, voice so hoarse it’s almost inaudible even over the phone.

San tuts coolly. “That’s disappointing.”

“F-fuck my mouth, I’ll make it up to you, I’ll make you cum so good, San, Sannie— let me touch— mghh—!”

A sharp slap reaches your ears. “Hands to yourself, Woo. You don’t get to touch my cock, that was the rule.”

“Then— then let me eat you out. Please, San, f-fuck…”

Wooyoung trails off into a quiet moan, just when you hear a faint squelch. San chuckles, humourless. “You like the sight of that, don’t you? Watching your own cum drip out of me. Look at that, it’s getting all over you.” Then he sighs, like he’s coming to a pained decision. “Alright, I’ll give you one last chance.”

There is a shifting sound, and Wooyoung makes a tired but excited noise that is quickly muffled.

“That’s it,” San says with a husky sigh. “Like that, yeah. Clean up your own mess, lap it all up for me. Make that mouth useful while I talk.” His voice comes closer to you again. “That sounded like a good one,” he hums, but you can hear the strained edge to him.

“It was,” you say, feeling a hazy giddiness in your post-orgasm bliss. “Sorry you didn’t get to cum yet.”

“Hmm, don’t worry about me. Wooyoung knows he has something to make up for,” San says. You can picture his grin, how his hand runs through those faded red locks as he yanks Wooyoung to exactly to where he wants, to suck every drop of seed out of his leaking hole. “Besides, you could help me out this time… if you’d like.”

It is an offer, but he puts it forth with complete confidence that he knows exactly what you’d like. And he is absolutely right.

You sigh contently, luxuriating in the soft exhaustion that is slowly dissolving your consciousness. “Yeah,” you murmur, and run a leisurely hand underneath your shirt, up to squeeze at your breast. Just a lazy touch, gently stoking the pleasure for a little longer while you keep San company. “Said I just wanted to watch you before, right? I… I changed my mind.”

San lets his moans slip more freely now, and his voice goes a little deeper at your admission. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

You chew at your bottom lip, all your endless wants swirling around your head like spun cotton candy — until you finally settle on one to share. “Wooyoung isn’t allowed to touch your cock, but you can, right? Want you to touch yourself… and pretend it’s my mouth.”

“Fuck, baby…” You hear San spit in his hand before he wraps his fingers around his thick cock, groaning lowly.

“Want to suck you off so bad,” you say, playing up your moan just slightly as you pluck at one of your pebbled nipples. “Been on my mind for so long now. Wanna taste you…”

“W-while Wooyoung is tongue-fucking me?” San asks shakily, his steady composure breaking down. “Cleaning up his own mess so well. He doesn’t get as drunk on ass as he does on that sweet pussy of yours, but fuck… Doing such a good job, Woo…”

You can barely catch Wooyoung’s moan in response, muffled and covered by San’s sharp hiss.

“W-would like that very much, yeah,” you admit, wishing it was San’s mouth on your nipple instead of your fingers, “but…”

“‘But’?” he encourages, the word spoken tightly as though through gritted teeth.

“…I’d also like him to fuck me.”

San makes a sound that’s between a laugh and a whine. “Hm, s-so that is still on your mind, huh? Getting both of our cocks at once. Could you handle that, baby? Wooyoungie here can get pretty rough, he’d have you choking on my dick while your slick pussy gets wrecked by that pretty cock of his.” (Wooyoung lets out a garbled moan that seems to be agreement.)

You whimper at the thought. “W-wouldn’t mind that…”

“You wouldn’t?” San rasps, fresh excitement pouring into his heady aroused state. “Want me to fuck that tight throat until you gag on it, then?”

“Y-yeah… make me choke on it, San,” you say with a whine. “Cum in my mouth, wanna swallow it all down.”

“Fuck, but you really do love being a sweet cumdump for us,” he groans. “Such a good girl. Letting us fill you up from both ends, taking me down your throat while Wooyoung stuffs that pussy full.”

“Do it, do it.” You start to feel floaty again, carried away by your fantasies. “Fuck my face until I can’t breathe, I’d be so good to you, so good, swallow everything you give me I promise, give it to me. Sannie—”

San breaks.

You can’t be sure what pushed him over the edge; your babbling, Wooyoung’s tongue, or his own hand, but over the edge he is pushed, violently. He gasps and shudders, a throttled curse barely making it past his lips as he whines; a sound that could be pathetic if it wasn’t so fucking beautiful, a desperate release torn deep from his throat.

He recovers only slowly, with heavy grunts and huffs for breath. There is shifting sounds again — and you suspect San has slumped onto the bed, where you can faintly hear Wooyoung hum sweet praises at him, saying something about getting them both cleaned up. San groans in response, and there are more rustling sounds.

For a split-second you feel awkward and forgotten, unsure where you fit in next. But then Wooyoung has grabbed the phone, anchoring you back to him. “So… was that as good for you as it was for us?” he asks cheekily, and you fondly roll your eyes so hard you hope he can feel it through the phone.

“Pretty nice…” you say in a tired drawl, vaguely aware that eventually you will have to move again. Not right now, though.

Wooyoung just giggles. “Good. That was a nice surprise for us too.”

“’M glad,” you murmur. “Hey, um… those pictures,” you start, feeling a little awkward about bringing it up. “Should I delete those?”

“What?!” Wooyoung sounds outright offended at the notion. “Don’t you dare, that shot of San turned out way too good to throw out. Consider it a treat for you, that’s what hidden albums are for, right?”

Your lips curl into a light smile, touched by their trust in your discretion. “Thanks. Seriously though, it really is a great shot, you know,” you add on. “No joke, you know your angles.”

You don’t have to see Wooyoung to sense how he perks up at the praise. “You think so? I could show you some other stuff too, if you want,” he says excitedly. “I’ve been really getting into photography lately.”

“…Jung Wooyoung,” you say carefully, “are you offering to show me your nudes collection?”

He laughs, a sound you hear even through the wall. “No, no! Not all of them are like that! PG-13, these are PG-13, I swear! Still interested, or is it boring now?” he jokes, a grin in his voice.

Actually, that just makes you more curious. “No, I’m interested,” you say with a quiet laugh of your own.

“Hm… are you free tomorrow? We could grab some lunch together.”

His pro-activeness catches you off-guard, and you take a moment too long to respond.

“Hey, what’s with the hesitation? I’m a lot of fun to hang out with even with my clothes on, you know,” he huffs in faux-offence, making you giggle again.

“I don’t know, actually,�� you point out. “But I suppose that just means I should give you a chance to prove it.”

“That’s the spirit! Lunch it is.”

“Without me?” San sulks tiredly, sounding like he’s on the brink of sleep.

“Aish, don’t pout, you get to see both of us plenty,” Wooyoung chides. “We’ll bring you some snacks over at work after, alright? I’ll buy you some nice gimbap or something, from that place you like.”

“Hmm alright,” San relents, mollified by the promise of food.

“So,” Wooyoung says to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pick you up around one?”

“Yeah, that’s good. See you tomorrow,” you say with a small grin, already looking forward to it.

Wooyoung had spoken the truth; he is a lot of fun even with his clothes on.

He takes you to a small place about halfway between your apartment and San’s work, rustic and cosy with a lot of dark woodwork and lush greenery. The staff enthusiastically greets Wooyoung by name, and he jokes with the kind, grandmotherly waitress who sweetly scolds him for staying away too long.

Soon enough there is a small feast of platters and bowls in front of you, heavenly smells wafting up to make your mouth water. Wooyoung ushers you to dig in, pushes his favourites, and you bask in culinary heaven with the rich kimchi stew, sticky fried chicken and good companionship.

Wooyoung is both an easy talker and easy to talk to. Idle small-talk fills the space between you until the sharp edge of your hunger has been sated, and Wooyoung pulls up his phone to showcase those promised photos.

You had not been sure what to expect.

Honestly, you just didn’t know Wooyoung well enough yet to know what ‘getting into photography’ means; whether it’s something he is actually serious about, or if you’d end up scrolling through a random assortment of goofy pictures of San.

Well. There are pictures of San — but they definitely are not random, nor goofy.

Instead, Wooyoung takes you through a series of gentle candid shots. They appear to be taken on the same day, just a quiet afternoon around the apartment. Sunlight strews into the living room, casting a soft glow around San’s form as he relaxes on the couch with Byeol in his lap. Every picture is taken with obvious care to capture how the light hits San’s features just right; the slight furrow of his brow, the pronounced cheekbones, or his pursed lips as he lovingly gazes down at Byeol, sleeping in his arms.

In the next photo he stares off into the distance, quiet and contemplative. It’s not like you’ve never seen San be quiet before; how he used to be quietly shy in the hallways — or the quiet intensity in the bedroom, wrapped up in authoritative focus. This is neither of those things; this is a peaceful, intimate quiet. Brought about by simply existing in the world with ease and comfort, next to a person he feels safe with.

You look up at Wooyoung, who is smiling at the photo on display with starry adoration in his eyes. He glances back at you when he notices you looking, his eyes still gleaming. “Well? What do you think?”

“They’re good, Woo,” you say earnestly. “You really capture him well. It’s like… really intimate? I love how soft he looks.”

He giggles at the praise, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Ah wait, hang on,” he then says. “These aren’t the ones I really wanted to show you. Making San look good is easy, right? But these…”

A faint warmth heats your skin as you remember the last time Wooyoung made San look good on camera. He swipes through some pictures, slow enough to give you a quick look, but clearly focused on getting to the ones he’s looking for.

In the meanwhile, you glimpse at the other photos; there is one where Wooyoung caught San’s surprise at having the camera pointed at him, his eyes wide — but they sink into a crescent smile in the next frame, dimples and all. A few other people pass by; a beautiful young man with statuesque features stands out in particular, a birthmark on his temple that Wooyoung has taken great effort to highlight.

Then suddenly the people are gone from the screen, and Wooyoung hands you back his phone to scroll through at your own pace.

You blink at the abrupt shift from candids to urban photography.

Wooyoung favours cool colours and clean architectural lines, that much is clear from just a glance. They’re mostly shots from buildings and streets that you could see any day, just by walking outside. The first impression of it is almost a little underwhelming — until you take a moment to really look at his photos.

That is when you notice the subtle perspective of Wooyoung, how he carefully manages to catch all these ordinary, common places strewn through the city in a way that sheds new light on them, making you look at them differently. Finding beauty in mundanity, hidden right in plain sight. You smile gently when you note an affinity for train stations and railroads, the overhead lines contrasted against cool blue skies in intricate patterns; simple functionality, turned into art through Wooyoung’s lens.

You take another quick glance at him, and ‘nervous’ is not quite the right word to describe Wooyoung, but he is definitely more subdued than before, more focused on your reaction.

The love he pours in his candid shots is obvious, but Wooyoung seems to know those are easy crowd-pleasers. He does not have the same confidence in this area of his interest. (He really should, though.)

“I know this street,” you say, tapping the edge of his phone. “But… I didn’t know it looks like this. Does that make sense? I didn’t realise it’s this lovely. It’s like… like you notice the things others overlook, just because we see them every day. I love them, Woo.”

Wooyoung bites down a smile. “Really?” he asks, like he needs an extra nudge before he can absorb your words.

“Yeah, really,” you persuade him, a smile pulling at your lips at how he lights up.

It’s interesting; Wooyoung’s photographs show you how he sees the world around him, shifting your own perspective to match his — but the images also reflect back on him, shifting your perspective yet again. Like you are peeling back layers, seeing a Wooyoung who is not just brazen and flirty, but also thoughtful and appreciative.

“You’re really cool, you know,” Wooyoung says, between mouthfuls of fried chicken and rice. “I’m glad it’s you who walked in on San and me.”

You almost choke on the stew. There is that brazen Wooyoung back again. “Aren’t you a sweet-talker!” you wheeze, hitting your chest to recover. “Coming in with the flattery after I’ve said nice things about your photos, I see how this works.”

He laughs in protest. “I’m serious, you’re fun!”

“Even with my clothes on?” you grin, unable to resist teasing him about yesterday.

“Even with your clothes on, yes,” Wooyoung says, grinning right back at you. “What about me, hm?”

“Yeah, you’re fun too I guess,” you say with a dramatic sigh, like the admission only comes begrudgingly.

“Oh, I know,” Wooyoung says, biting his lip at you.

You give him a heavy side-eye. “…And kind of insufferable.”

He laughs again, that loud cackle that twists his whole face with contagious joy, and he claps his hands together in delight. “See? That’s what I mean. We’re having fun, right?”

“Well, I’m just happy to know I’m not intruding,” you tell him. “I’d hate to be overstepping on anything.”

“Intrude? On what?” Wooyoung asks, confused for a moment before he realises what you mean. “Wait, on me and San? No way.” He shakes his head. “Listen, I told you that I used to be in an open relationship, right? But— Hey, now don’t give me that look!” he laughs, though you didn’t realise you were giving him one. “I remember what you told us, I wasn’t thinking like that! I just mean, I’m happy to keep things more closed for San, but it did open up the conversation for other options, youknow. That we don’t have to be traditional about everything. And this thing with you, whatever label we do or don’t put on it, it seems to work out for everyone, right?”

“I believe the typical phrase people use is ‘friends with benefits’,” you point out.

This time, Wooyoung is the one making a face. “No, not into that. Any friendship with me comes with benefits. There are so many more perks other than just the bedroom stuff, you know that?”

“Hm… I might need convincing,” you say, keeping your voice deliberately aloof. “How about I take you up on that offer to cook for me and San. You said you wanted to, right? That might persuade me.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but it can’t hide the obvious happy gleam. “Already abusing the privilege of my friendship, huh?”

“Oh, so now it’s not just a perk, it’s a privilege,” you tease. “That better be a damn impressive meal, Jung.”

But Wooyoung’s proof of his cooking skills will have to wait until later, and you first focus on finishing the food in front of you.

After lunch is eaten and gone, you rock-paper-scissors it out for the bill. Wooyoung takes the victory, and somehow he argues that means he has won the right to pay. And although you can’t find any indication that this restaurant usually serves food-to-go, you step out the doors with a generous serving of gimbap anyway, safely stored for travel.

Together you walk to San’s work. Wooyoung easily chats the time away, talking about the camera he’s saving up for, and thinking about what food he wants to cook, asking if you have any allergies.

Meanwhile, you look around you with a little more attention than usual. You try to see the streets like Wooyoung does, and actually find a lot of spots that you recognise from his photos. It dawns on you that he must take this route often, maybe walking San to work or dropping food off for him.

Soon you reach the taekwondo school where San teaches. It’s your first time here, but Wooyoung is greeted just as warmly as at the restaurant. He gets warned that San is in the middle of a class but that does not deter him; so you drop off the food just around the corner of a training room, where San is enthusiastically psyching up a tiny girl with even tinier pigtails to kick her target as high as she can.

You and Wooyoung can’t do much more than take a quick sneak peak at the lesson, but San catches sight of the two of you. He sends a bright smile in your direction, making a gesture of thanks when he notices the container.

Not wanting to disrupt the class, you and Wooyoung take that as your cue to give a quick wave and leave. Outside, you finally part ways for the day; him heading back to his own place, and you to yours.

But before you can get all the way back home, your phone buzzes with a notification. Wooyoung has sent you a picture.

Curious, you open the file — to find a candid of you that he must have sneakily taken during lunch. It’s a soft scene, enhanced by the rustic atmosphere of the restaurant. Your eyes shine brightly in the photo, filled with enjoyment of the tasty food; your smile is easy and sincere, relaxed in Wooyoung’s company.

You catch yourself smiling back at the photo, oddly touched to have become one of Wooyoung’s subjects. Then your phone buzzes again.

came out nice, right? isnt it good? 😇

You huff in amusement at the text, not surprised anymore at how blatantly he baits for a compliment. For all that Wooyoung loves being degraded, he sure has a hankering for that sweet, sweet praise too.

well im sure the model helped, you tease him, and chuckle fondly when he immediately replies with just a 😠 and nothing else.

#igby’s writing #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #woosan x reader #san smut #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez #san #wooyoung #ateez scenarios #san ateez #wooyoung ateez #san imagines #wooyoung imagines

[milswrites]

Stubborn Little Fox

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Eris struggles to look after his stubborn mate when you are sick.

Warnings: Poorly reader but it’s pretty much fluff. Maybe some suggestiveness.

Notes: Just a silly little fic to tide you over until I finish the angst I’m writing. Dedicated to @sarawritestories who wrote me this exact scenario in an attempt to get me to stop writing and go to bed 😌

Your bed was empty.

Again. 

The wrinkled covers pulled back to reveal the bare sheets of where you had once laid, where Eris was supposed find you soundly sleeping upon entering the room.

The Autumn Prince cursed lowly under his breath, knuckles turning white with frustration as he tightly gripped onto the tray of food he had prepared for you.

It was easier to control his hounds - Eris thought as he carefully placed the tray down on the edge of the bed, lest he toss its contents onto the floor in his anger.

Eris was used to completing impossible jobs, and yet nothing has been more difficult than trying to wrangle his sick mate and convince you to sleep away your illness. Your inability to sit still making caring for you harder than Eris had initially anticipated.

He needn’t try too hard to find you, a swift wander down the hall and to his office was all Eris needed to walk before he opened the door to find your sickly form hunched over his desk with a pen in hand. Scribbling away at whatever documents had been left for you once you had recovered.

It was impossible to stop the exasperated sigh which fell from his lips as he took in the paleness of your face and the worrying sheen of sweat which had coated it.

“And why, pray tell me, aren’t you in bed where you’re supposed to be Little Fox?” Eris snarled, all comfort forgotten as he once more found himself trying to coax you back towards your bed.

With shaking hands you reluctantly place your pen down, guilty eyes meeting the burning stare of your mates unforgiving glare. “I’ve got work to finish!” You defend, gesturing to the stack of paperwork which had only grown during your absence from your job.

At your excuse, the red-haired male inhaled deeply, a disbelieving hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. And it wasn’t until Eris exhaled his frustrations that he allowed himself to reply as softly as he could, “work can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“It can’t,” you reason, a disappointed sigh drawing from your sickly lips, “I’m far enough behind as it is. Another day without work and I’ll never be able to catch up. Besides, I’m fine. I feel much better now.”

Whilst Eris prided himself on holding back the roll of his eyes which threatened to occur, he failed to stop the raise of his brow as you proceeded to burst into a fit of coughs after your weak-willed reassurances.

“All better?” He mused, a small smirk finding its home on his lips as he watched you pitifully try to compose yourself. Innocent eyes meeting his own as your incessant coughing eventually came to a halt.

“I have to say Little Fox, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like going against my orders” Eris chided, slowly walking towards you as he spoke. Each step forward drawing you deeper into his hypnotic trance. “Would I be correct in assuming you keep leaving your bed because you want me to scold you?” He asks teasingly, bringing his face down to meet yours, until his playful eyes were level with your own.

“I can’t say I’d hate it if you had to take care of me” you replied honestly, unable to help the way your gaze drifted towards your mates slightly parted lips.

“Is that not what I’ve been doing all this time?” Eris feigns hurt which fails to read through his wicked smile, “Taking care of my mate?”

“I can think of a few more ways I’d like to be taken care of” you answer, hoping to be seductive but ultimately failing as another round of coughs wrack your chest.

“Later” Eris chuckled, his strong arms coming to lift you from where you were sat, “for now you need sleep.”

You furrow your brows in protest, opening your mouth to argue with your mate before he beat you to it. Eris’s soothing voice acting to calm you, “Don’t worry, I’m going to have to cuddle you just to make sure you don’t run off anywhere else.”

Eris’s warm lips came to meet your aching forehead, his kiss already working to dissipate the uncomfortable pulsating of your sore temples. Your mates healing touch enough to already have you drifting off in his comforting embrace.

“My stubborn Little Fox,” he uttered as he began to move back towards the bedroom which you shared, cradling you close to his body in hope that the heat which he emitted would soothe your aching joints, “you better feel well again soon, I’ll be waiting to deliver your punishment for disobeying me.”

You hum happily in response, nuzzling your face into his warm chest to hide your smirk of anticipation, “I’m looking forward to it, My Prince.”

It was only once you woke, when your fever had broken and the ache in your muscles had quelled, that you noticed that Eris was no longer holding you. That it was his turn to escape the comfortable confines of your sheets which had now grown cold in his absence.

Stepping out from the warmth of your covers, you walked barefoot across the cold wooden floors. Seeking the ever-lasting warmth of your mate. You followed the call, moving through the hall until you found yourself outside his office, the strong scent of crackling wood and chestnuts enough to tell you the male was waiting inside.

Cracking open the door you peered inside, noting the way Eris was slumped over the freshly inked papers you had saved to work on when your health had improved.

Your mate - your selfless, loving mate - had completed them all. No doubt seeking to ease your worries and provide you with the extra hours of rest you would no doubt need once you had woken.

Quietly pulling the door to, you move to the kitchen to prepare your love a warming tea. Because as much as Eris longed to take care of those he loved so dearly, sometimes what he needed was for someone to take care of him in return.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra oneshot #eris vanserra imagine #eris oneshot #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris imagine

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You are settling in to living in a new country. Your Alpha wants to show you how important you are to him.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)

Word count: 3.4k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.

A/n: Oh my GOD. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I can't believe the amount of love this fic is getting. I just had to write another chapter for you guys asap. I have a taglist so comment if you'd like to join it.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two:

You sigh as you take in the barren state of your room. All that was left was boxes and your suitcases. Your mom is going to send the rest of your belongings after you arrive in Amsterdam. You were sad to leave your childhood home and your parents but, excited to see what the future holds. Especially now that you have a very sweet Alpha taking care of you. As much as you hate to admit it, your inner Omega has longed for this day. You still couldn't shake the nerves of moving to a completely different country. The AOMO assisted you with your visa which was easy to get approved for. Countries were more lenient with citizenship when it came to obtaining a mate. You haven't seen König in about a week. He went back to Amsterdam to prepare for your arrival. A knock sounded at your door before it opened. 

“You ready?” Your Dad asked, moving to grab your suitcases for you. 

“Yeah.” You followed him out of the room.

Your Mother was standing near the door, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. You went over and hugged her. 

“My baby girl, moving out. I'm gonna miss you.” 

“I'll come visit, don't worry.”

“You better.” Your dad called an Uber to get to the airport.

The drive was silent besides the quiet radio in the background. The airport was busy. This was your first time flying by yourself, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. You gave your mother and father one last hug before to went to check your bags. Your mother shed a tear and adjusted your protection collar again, urging you to be safe. You bid them goodbye and headed to check your bags and go through security. Once you made it to your gate your phone vibrated. You didn't recognize the number. 

'Hello liebe, It is König. Kara has given me your number.'

'I am not used to texting, I text no one. Are you at the plane?'

Your heart jumped with excitement hearing from him. 

'Hi König, I am at my gate. It boards in about an hour I think.'

'Wonderful, I will be waiting for you when you arrive.' 

'See you then.'

You suppressed a squeal as you put your phone away. Your inner Omega was getting a little out of hand with her feelings about him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. You distracted yourself by using the bathroom and buying some expensive airport snacks to tide you over on the ride. It was a seven-hour overnight flight set to arrive at eleven am Netherlands time. Once you boarded the plane you got comfortable for the long flight. You brought a blanket from home and a neck pillow. Kara set you up with a window seat. As you took off you silently said goodbye to the big city and hello to your new future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke as the lights of the plane cabin turned on. The flight attendants told everyone to prepare for landing. You gathered your things and gazed out your window. The city was lush, the leaves were turning slightly as fall rolled in. Your heart pounded against your chest with excitement, your Omega desperately wanted to see König. You still had to go through customs and baggage claim. 

König wasn't much better. Throughout the week he had distracted himself by cleaning and buying things for your arrival, but that did little to quell the Alpha in him. He brought new bedding for your nest. He didn't know what kind you'd like so he got a little bit of everything. Fluffy faux fur blankets, cooling quilts, silk sheets, you name it. He also started putting aside t-shirts he has worn in case you wanted them for your nest. His apartment had two bedrooms, one of which he never used. It had a bed and that was about it. Although he desperately wanted you to sleep in his bed, he knew Omegas needed their space to nest and feel at home. He furnished the room with a desk, nightstand, dresser, and TV. He would leave the decorating up to you as that has never been his strong suit. He waited outside of baggage claim tapping his foot anxiously. He had arrived entirely too early but couldn't stand to sit in his apartment any longer. 

Customs went by smoothly. You scanned the conveyor belts for your luggage. The longer the wait was the more your heart pounded. You were starting to sweat making your scent waft to the people around you. You moved to a corner with fewer people to avoid the annoyed looks people would give you. Your luggage finally made its round in the rotunda and you snatched it as fast as you could. You walked outside to the pickup area the sun blinding you for a moment as you looked around. You inhaled deeply trying to pinpoint König's scent. The faint smell of bread and cinnamon entered your nose through the breeze. You looked to the left seeing a familiar mop of hair behind a black SUV. He was too tall not to be the Alpha you were looking for. You walked up to him his back turned to you. 

“König.” You said happily. 

He turned to you surprised. “You're here.”

König was trying to contain his excitement. His inner alpha pressured him to pick you up, to hold you. As if reading his mind, you hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you, dwarfing you. He bent down resting his nose in your hair, savoring your scent. You looked up at him keeping your arms around his waist. He had his black surgical mask on. 

“I'm so happy to see you.”

“I spent every day thinking of you liebe.” 

He reluctantly released the embrace and opened the passenger side door for you. You sat in the car and watched him load your luggage into the trunk. He slid into the driver's seat glancing at you before pulling off onto the road. His scent sweetened the longer he was in your presence. 

“How was the flight?” He asked.

“It was easy, I just slept.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

König reached behind your seat to the back and grabbed a white paper bag. He handed it to you all without taking his eyes off the road. Inside was a croissant and a peach Danish. 

“Oh thank you König. You really know the way to woo me.” You chuckled taking a bite of the Danish. 

He responded with 'hmm' and a content smile. The ride was about thirty minutes. You gazed out the window taking in the sights of your new city. Many people rode bikes and there were endless cafes. König parallel parked onto a quiet residential block. You got out of the car taking in your surroundings. The houses were all unique in color and style. Only one person was walking down the street. König unloaded your bags and put them on the sidewalk. You went to grab them but he shooed your hands away. He locked the car and started walking. The house he led you to was a brick home with a few steps leading to the foyer. He opened the door and let you walk inside first before carrying your bags in with ease. You walked up the two flights of stairs. 

“The door is open.” König said from behind you. 

The second door came into view and you opened the door for him. He sets your bags down and closes the door behind him. The apartment was furnished but bland. Not much decor or color. It was obvious he doesn't spend much time here as it did not look lived in. 

“Come.” He said leading you down the small hallway.

 He opened the first door, it was the bathroom. Quite large for an apartment bathroom, you were excited to use the tub. He then lead you to the second door it was a nice furnished bedroom there were a lot of shopping bags near the bed. 

“This is your room. I brought nesting material for you but, I was not sure what you liked.” 

You walked in. The natural light of the morning flooded into the room through the large windows. The building was high enough that you had a decent view of the neighborhood. 

“König, you didn't have to buy all these for me.” 

“Nonsense.” 

You smiled. “Thank you, Alpha.” 

König's heart thumped against his chest. He didn't expect you to use his title so soon, but he was over the moon.

“You're welcome Omega.” He purred.

Your Omega preened at the title. Although the situation was new, you felt safe and cared for. You started opening some of the bedding to assess them for your new nest. There was a large dark blue comforter with matching silk sheets. You knew you should focus on unpacking but the temptation to build your nest was too high. König watched you from the door with adoration. He was proud of himself for making his Omega feel happy and safe. He brought your luggage into your room to unpack whenever you were ready. 

You were completely engrossed in your nest you didn't realize König was watching you. You took off your shoes and jacket and started arranging the sheets first to have a silky base. Then you used the quilts as a border before you could arrange it properly your phone started ringing, taking you out of the daze you were in. You reached for your phone in your jacket pocket. It was your mom. 

“Mom it's so early there you didn't have to call now.” 

“I know sweetie I just was paranoid. Did you arrive safe?” 

“I did, I'm at König's now.” 

“Oh, great ok that's all I was worried about. I'm gonna head back to sleep. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too Mom”

You hung up the phone and looked around at the mess of packaging on the floor. You were debating whether you should continue making your nest or clean your mess up. Sensing your internal struggle König spoke. 

“Let's unpack Schatz.”

“Oh, right.” 

You unzipped your suitcases and started sorting things into the dresser and closet. You instructed König to put your toiletries in the bathroom and put your clothes in certain drawers. He was happy to help, spending time with his Omega was the most important thing to him. König was given a little over three months' leave to settle with his Omega. After Christmas, he had to go back on missions. The thought made his heart ache. He shook off the negative feelings before she could pick up on anything, not wanting her to worry. König picked up the packaging placing it in one of the shopping bags. He went to the kitchen to throw it away. 

Now that he was here he did not know what to do. Does he give her space? Should he take her out? König wants to spend as much time as possible with her, but he did not want to be overbearing. Before he could overthink, he heard you calling him. Walking into your room he saw you kneeling on the bed. 

“Take off your shoes and come I want to test something.” You said. 

He obliged, taking his shoes off. You waved him over to your unfinished nest. He stepped up to you hesitantly not wanting to cross any boundaries with your nest. You grabbed his hand and made him lie down. König stiffened not wanting to ruin anything. He has never been invited into an Omega's nest before. You started arranging your nesting materials around him. Once you got a good sense of how many blankets you needed for both of you to be comfy, you released him. He sat up carefully trying not to disturb anything that you arranged. He was honored that you'd feel comfortable just being in the room while you created your space. 

While making your nest you noticed how barren the room was. You wanted it to be warm and cozy. You looked up at König. 

“Let's go shopping, Alpha. Can we?” 

“Sure, liebe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König was surprised you had so much energy after your night of travel. You took in the scenery of the local shops. You slipped your hand into Konigs and led him into a home decor shop. König let himself be dragged around as you browsed. Every shop they went into you picked up small things. A wall mirror, a pretty tapestry, a cute frog statue, you had to have it. One of the shops you walked into sold Omega protection collars. You sighed.

“I wouldn't mind wearing mine as much if it looked better.” 

The shop made custom-fit metal collars. There was a beautiful gold metal collar with a dangle charm in the center. It came down to a point near the clavicle. Contrary to your basic black leather one. 

“Would you like this one?” König asked. 

“Oh, no it's expensive.” 

You moved to walk out of the shop but you felt a hand on your waist stop you. König pulled you back to him gently and waved over the sales associate. 

“Can she try this one on?” The worker nodded and took the collar out of the case. 

You removed your collar with the key you kept in your wallet and let the worker place the gold one on you. You looked in the mirror and smiled. It complimented you in the best way, simple yet elegant. The worker explained that they do custom fittings that take a few days to make but it's worth it. You removed the collar and handed it back. 

“She would like to get fitted.” König said suddenly. 

“What? No König really it's too much.”

“Just in case.”

“In case what?” 

He didn't answer. The worker did a few measurements around your neck and the size and placement of your scent glands, writing them down on a form. After they were done they bid the both of you goodbye and looked forward to your order. 

“I don't think I'm gonna get it.” You told König.

“It's too much...” You added

“That's ok.” He said. 

He placed his arm around your waist as you walked, holding your shopping bags in the other hand. You had a feeling he was planning something but you let it go for the time being. 

By the time you got home, it was getting dark. König placed your shopping bags into your room. You yawned. 

“You should sleep liebe, you've had a busy day.” König said. 

“Yeah, I'll head to bed early so I can finish my nest.” You stretched your back and walked to your room. König followed behind you heading to his room. He grabbed your wrist spinning you back toward him. His other hand caressed your cheek while leaning down to your level. He pulled down his mask revealing his plump lips.

“Goodnight Omega.” He kissed your cheek. 

König felt it was only right to return the kiss you gave him before. He let the kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away. Heat crept from your neck to your cheeks. König walked to his room smiling to himself. You leaned against your door, heart racing. You opened the door, your inner Omega was reeling from your Alpha's attention. Your alpha? You were completely smitten by the giant Apex. You closed the door, changed into pajamas, and jumped into your nest. You sighed into the pillows, fantasizing about your Alpha. You began adjusting your nest to your liking. It ended up taking you an hour to make it perfect, keeping in mind the space for König. You'd never made a nest with someone else in mind but it was nice. You got cozy and let sleep take over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light entered your room slowly waking you. You looked at your phone, it was 6:04 am. You sat up and stretched, happy that you beat the jetlag. Wondering if König was awake, you quietly stepped out of your room and down the hallway to his room. You knocked gently. König was a light sleeper. He heard your small footsteps before you knocked and went to open the door. He looked down at your face still flushed with sleep. 

“Good morning.” You said, absentmindedly rubbing your eyes. 

König purred deeply. You looked so cute in your PJs he wanted to pull you into his bed., for more than just cuddling. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Morning Schatz.” He guided you down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“I can make us pancakes for breakfast.” You suggested.

“Sounds wonderful.” 

König watched you flit around the kitchen. The kitchen was barely used because of his job, so it was nice seeing it get used. Your head snapped to the alpha when you realized he was watching you. 

“Go sit, I'll bring it to you.” 

König nodded and sat on the couch. He turned on the TV as he waited and listened to the kitchen utensils clanging in the background. A few minutes later you emerged with a plate for him topped with syrup. He took the plate and looked at the food quizzically. 

“What's wrong?” you asked. 

“These...are pancakes?” He analyzed the fluffy discs.

“Yeah, are pancakes different here?” He nodded.

“I'll try them.” He carved out a bite with his fork. You watched him intensely. 

“How is it?” 

“...Sweet, but good.” He said. 

You smiled and went to get yourself a plate. You plopped down next to him on the couch and you took a bite. You watched the random movie he put on as you ate, feeling perfectly content with your Alpha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, you were on the couch typing away on your laptop working on your next chapter. König was struggling to find something to do with himself. He wanted to give you space to write, but desperately wanted to spend time with you. He understood that your job was time sensitive. He was lucky to have you here at all. You heard König pacing behind you causing you to lose your concentration. You got up and went to your room. You rummaged through your suitcase, finding a copy of your fantasy novel. You walked up to König and handed him the book before returning to your spot on the couch. He appeared next to you on the couch glancing over the blurb. 

“I thought I had to buy a copy?” He said. 

“Well, you need something to do.” You chuckled. 

You two fell into a comfortable silence with König's mind now occupied. After a while, you glanced at the Alpha. He was engrossed in the pages well into the starting plot. 

“How is it so far?” 

“So good Schatz. I have not read a novel in a long time, I like it.”

“I'm glad.”

König bent the corner of the page he was on and closed the book. You nearly felt your heart jumped out of your chest.

“Ah! König!!!” You grabbed the book and attempted to straighten the corner out.

“This is a book sin!” You exclaimed.

“Oh? But I have no bookmark.” He gave you an amused look. 

“Ok just ask for one I have many!” You pouted.

“The book isn't hurt.”

“How do you know?” 

König laughed. It was so genuine and hearty that you almost forgot what you were upset about. You turned away and set the book page-side down. König's laughter died down and he looked at you. 

“You're adorable, Schatz.”

“Hmph.” You said. 

König reached around cupping your cheek. You turned to him. It was surprising to see his face a couple of inches away from yours. His eyes were soft as they gazed into yours, he looked down at your lips before capturing yours in a chaste kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss. Your bottom lip slotted in between his in the most delicious way. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again. One of his hands slithered around your waist pulling you flush against his torso. The other hand firmly gripped the side of your jaw. 

Your heart pounded so loud you swear he could hear it.

König smiled against your lips. He finally had his Omega. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: Comment to join

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @y2katsuki

#konig fluff #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #alpha konig #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse #omega reader #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig #könig fluff #könig mw2 #könig mwii

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; chapter 5

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Commander Snow had been absent from your life for three days. 

He had left boxes of food in anticipation but expected no reward in return. He didn’t turn up at the late hours of the night. No demands of you coming to the Compound with brownies were given.

It was a welcome change in your routine. It gave you more time to focus on your mother. She improved greatly with the extra attention and could be dropped down to half a bottle of morphling every 12 hours. 

She still needed your help to rise from bed and wash but was now lucid enough to feel like your mother again. 

You felt less isolated now that she was back. And with Edmund dropping by every day you felt almost normal. 

You gave him the spare bottles of morphling to sell. Commander Snow would drop you quickly and it was important to have some money saved to tide you over until you got your job back.

You decided to use a small portion to buy your mother fresh bandages. She would only need one more batch before the wounds on her back were closed.

The walk into town was busy but no one paid you any mind. Most avoided looking at you. 

You were used to the isolation now. It didn’t bother you as much now. 

The nice day turns upon seeing Peacekeepers in large groups marching through the streets. 

You stop walking to let people pass as they rush towards you. Peacekeepers formed groups as

you looked around, they were impossible to count. They moved too fast in and out of houses, and as you lost one, two more appeared in his absence. 

You freeze seeing Commander Snow, marching through the streets with the cavalry behind him. They break down doors to people's homes and the Peacekeepers split up into groups of four as they search the houses before rejoining the group. 

It was chaos as people ran to avoid their way. Demands of the Peacekeepers were yelled over crying children, and explanations of homeowners. You feel your heart pound at the scene. 

Such chaos always brought danger. Agitated Peacekeepers after a hard day's work are always looking for a reason to use their power over the district people. 

You press yourself against a side of a building, out of rushing people's way. You try and re-enter the stream of people but a breck never comes. More yelling is heard and you suddenly see why the rush was heading down stream. A large group of Peacekeepers all kitted up in their gear with vests and helmets come chasing the people. They grab who they can and throw them up against brick walls searching them for contraband. 

The coins burned a hole in your pocket. If found there is little chance of retaining them. 

They come closer and you try again to follow the rush but are pushed back. Somebody needed to be caught by the Peacekeepers. 

You scan the area for another escape route and see the tunnel that leads to the Capitol train route. Peacekeepers and higher officials were sure to be swarming on the other side but you could hide in the darkness that the tunnel provided until the chaos settled, 

The leader of the group blew a whistle and you took off to your path before you could figure out what it meant. 

Unfortunately, a Peacekeeper had already set his eyes on you. And watching you run and hide was a worthy enough cause to follow you. 

You barely make it into the darkness before you are caught and thrown into the wall. 

“Do you have any weapons or contraband on you?” The Peacekeeper shouted. 

He had brought along his partner who held his rifle out towards you. 

“No sir,” you answer, but he runs his hands along you anyway. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the hard, dirty wall while the other patted down.

With your forced position, you stare at the other Peacekeeper. The uniform aged him. His face was soft and round but hidden under the shadow of the large helmet. He had beautiful green eyes that went wide just as the Peacekeeper was about to pat the pocket that held your money. 

‘Whoa!” The other Peacekeeper places a hand on his friend's shoulders and pushes him back. “That’s Snow’s girl. I’ve seen her at the Compound.”

“Are you sure?” The hand that held you was released quickly. 

He looks at you again, “I am pretty sure.”

“I am!’’

 Maybe some good could come out of your predicament. 

“Go get him. He could want her searched anyway.”

“There’s no need to go get him. I’ll go home.” You turn so you can be heard.

“Shut up.” The Peacekeeper ordered. 

Green eyes took off back down the street, leaving you with his harsher friend. 

He unclips his cuffs and locks them around your wrists, telling you to sit on the ground. 

You knew better than to argue with Peacekeepers, so you sat and waited. 

Five minutes pass in silence. 

You hoped his business would be more pressing and he would send the Peacekeeper away with instructions to set you free. But you could see his shadow coming closer as you had the thought. 

If it wasn’t for his darker uniform you would have thought he was just another Peacekeeper, and not Commander of District 12.

His eyes hit you on the ground before going up to his officer. 

“The south exit is blocked, go help the others there. Search the people.” 

They both leave with a ‘yes sir’, and a salute. 

He moves quickly as they integrate back into the crowd.

He pulls you up, hooking your cuffed hands over his neck, and presses you up against the brick wall. His hands go under your arms and cement themselves to the wall behind, keeping them pinned up on his shoulders. He keeps his body close to hinder your movement and rests his left knee against the brick. 

He kisses you so fast, you weren’t sure if he managed to pin you before or after. His kisses are fast and hard, you don’t manage to even attempt one back before he is moving again. 

His greedy lips go to your throat, placing big kisses up and down it. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks between kisses. You couldn’t tell him about the money. He was sure to demand it from you. 

“Walking,” you push back on his shoulders but it invites him closer. 

His lips go from just under your ear back down to the hollow of your throat. 

“You shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.” 

The danger followed him, not you. You had walked these streets a hundred times before without any worry. 

He finds the spot he likes, just where your collarbone and neck meet, and begins to bite down. You wiggle underneath him to no avail. The biting upon your neck hurt but he seemed deaf to your pleas. You felt only a Peacekeeper beneath you, no sign of a man you could reason with. Your head only knocked against his hard helmet, you pushed yourself up on arms covered with the soft material of the peacekeeper uniform. Even your eyesight was blocked by the Peacekeeper's rifle slung over his shoulder. 

You were in no better of a position than the people in the houses. You were offered the same situation; let them take what they wanted or suffer the consequences of them just taking it anyway. 

“I’ve missed you,” he admits, “Why did you never come to see me?” 

You let your head rest back against the wall now that it wasn’t tossing and turning to alleviate the pressure of his bites. 

The truth was not an acceptable answer. You couldn’t tell him you had no interest in seeing him ever again.

“You were busy,” you tried. 

“You could have come. I would have seen you.” He goes back to your neck. His kissing was slow and lazy

“Commander, please.” You could still hear the commotion outside. 

A whooping sound is heard from outside the ally. 

He pulls his head back in its direction. 

“What did they find?” you ask. 

“Rebels. Propaganda has been spreading around the district. Looks like we found the warehouse it was coming from”. 

He ducks his head out from under the chain, releasing you from your prison, and quickly undoing your cuffs before softly shoving you towards the street. 

“Go straight home.” 

You nod your head in agreement and watch him rejoin his army. 

You run away from the noise, dodging people as they run with you. 

The same Peacekeepers that pinned you in the tunnel waited by a checkpoint but they didn’t bother you again as you ran past. 

—------

It was the next afternoon when a Peacekeeper van turned up outside your house. Children playing ran back inside. 

The Peacekeeper politely knocked at your door. 

“Yes?” you answer. You keep the door in front of your body like a shield. 

“Miss.” He nods his head, “I am here to take you back to the Compound”. 

Your gut twisted. The holiday was over and you were back to playing puppet. 

“I’ll finish my cooking and be right over.” 

He places his hand on the door in case you try to close it. 

“I’ve been given instructions to take you. I am afraid I can’t leave without you.”

He looked almost sorry to say it. He must have been a district-born Peacekeeper. 

You take your hands off the door to show him you aren’t going to make it hard for him.

“Okay. I’ll turn the oven off and put on my shoes.” 

“It would be appreciated, Miss.” 

He waits by the door as you do as promised. 

Your mother had only just taken her medicine leaving her dazed but still awake. You decide to tell her you’re going for a walk instead of the truth.

The Peacekeeper is kind, waiting patiently by the door without sound. He smiles at you as you near him, ready.

You lock the door and follow the officer to the truck. 

You head to the empty bed of the truck but he continues to the passenger side door, holding it open for you. 

He looked awkward as he held it, “Ah which would you prefer?”

You smile at him and take his offer of sitting up front. He shows you how to work the seatbelt as he gets into the driver's seat. 

You thank him, telling him you’ve never been up front before. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I remember my first time in a car. I thought it was amazing.”

You do not share the same enthusiasm. Being in a car only meant you were going to or coming from Coriolanus. 

“I am Y/N,” you offer. 

“People call me Smiley.” You thought the name suited him. 

“How long have you been a Peacekeeper for, Smiley?”

“Oh for about three years. I was only a grunt for a year, though. Corio-Commander Snow promoted me to officer once he got back”.

Your head shot up to look at him, after his familiar way of talking about Coriolanus. Could a man like this be friends with a man like Coriolanus?

“Did you know Commander Snow before he was Commander?” You tried to act uninterested. 

“Oh yeah! I met him on his first day here.” 

You imagine Coriolanus in the blue uniform of a grunt, scared out of his mind. 

“Used to go with him to the Hob to watch Lucy Gray and the Covey perform. He used to sneak off to see her after the show,” he laughs at the fond memory but it sent ice down your veins.

He had told you he never even met her. You have zero doubt in your mind now that he was the one who killed her. 

“Shame about Lucy Gray,” you begin, “He must have been so sad when she disappeared.” 

Smiley nods his head, “I reckon the Mayor killed her in revenge. Both her old boyfriend and the Mayor's daughter he ran off with turned up dead. There’s no way she didn’t do it.”

You wondered if Coriolanus framed her for murder so no one would go looking for her once she disappeared. If he does the same to you, would your community believe it? The girl with the baked goods stall on a Saturday, a murderer? Would they believe that yet another girl tangled up with Coriolanus could be a killer?

“Maybe she didn’t do it,”, you test the waters, “Maybe she was framed.” 

Smiley laughs, “S’pose it’s possible, but she was no stranger to killing. She was the 10th victor of the Hunger Games.”

This information surprised you. You never went to the Reapings as you had a special pass that dubbed your work too important to be interrupted, and there were few working TVs in the district. And even fewer turned them on during the Hunger Games. 

Was that her appeal to Coriolanus, that she was tough enough to be a victor? Was her refusal of him now the reason he targeted your soft demeanor? 

“Victor of the Hunger Games and a Peacekeeper? How was that allowed?” 

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he laughs again, “I was bunk mates with him. I used to hear him sneak out. Always a romantic." 

You bite back the question wrangling your tongue; You don’t think that he is acting romantic now, do you?

Instead, you try learning more about Coriolanus. 

“What got him sent from the Capitol to District 12?” You couldn’t imagine such a self-important Capitol citizen would volunteer. 

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what got him sent back here as Commander.” Smiley answers honestly, “There was a rumor that he knew her in the Capitol. Helped her in the games, but I am not so sure I believe it. Why go through all of that, and then try to get yourself sent off to District 2 for officer training? He was always planning to get back to the Capitol. Why would he do that if the girl he sacrificed everything for was here? Makes no sense to me.”

The car is let into the gates of the Compound and Smiley slows the car down as it tracks through. 

“He’s over Lucy Gray though. Hasn’t mentioned her since he got back.” 

He says after a moment, like he was worried that you were getting jealous of Lucy Gray and not terrified that you would end up like Lucy Gray. 

The office building comes into view. It stood huge and white with unnaturally bright, clean, marble steps. 

He drives right up to the steps, stopping in front of a waiting Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus opens the door before you can and reaches over you to undo your seatbelt. It feels as if he yanks you down, but his touch is gentle and unharmful. 

“Thanks, Smiley.” It was the first time you had ever heard him thank one of his Peacekeepers. Smiley places a finger to his forehead and tips it back to Coriolanus before he drives off. 

“Hey,” he breathes. He takes your shoulders into his hands and kisses you quickly. 

You don’t greet him back, still frozen from the talk with Smiley. 

Coriolanus doesn’t notice as he leads you to his office with a hand on your shoulder. 

He seemed eager to get into the room. His pace was quick and he only gave head nods to passersby who greeted him. 

He sighs as he closes the door to his office. His hand goes to the back of your neck briefly before disappearing altogether. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says like you had a choice. 

He continues his quick pace over to the couch against the wall and pats the spot next to him. 

You sit down and to your shock, he lays down across it.

He lays his head on your lap as he talks. It wasn’t enough for him as he forced your hand over his chest. 

“This week,” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, “I wish it would just end.” 

He throws his hands off his face to speak clearly, “First Tigris said that she was going to quit her job, but I called her last night, and she decided she’s not going to.”

“Tigris? Is that your girl back home?” You remembered his distaste for working women. Because she was Capitol, was she subject to better treatment than you and Lucy Gray, or did he have plans to frame her for murder as well? 

“No,” he said firmly, “No, she’s my cousin. You’re my girl.”

“Hm,” you change the topic quickly, “Surely not enough to ruin your week.”

Coriolanus seemed pleased with the attention and continued. 

“I have the Commander from District 4 visiting this week. He’s not out of the car two minutes before one of the new recruits shoots himself in the foot, right in front of him.” 

You scoff back a giggle at the image, and he manages a smile back. 

“He’s a pain, this Commander. Constantly after me. He’s heard I have a close relationship with Strabo Plinth and thinks I’ll help him make a connection.”

“Who’s-” he interrupts you before you finish. 

“I’ll tell you another time.” 

You scoff at him, “Another secret.” 

He shifts so he is lying on his side towards you. 

“It’s not a secret. It’s just complicated.” The whole Capitol knows about the district-turned-Capitol citizen fulfilling the father's role in Coriolanus' life. He would prefer to keep the clean image with you. 

“Am I here for a reason, Commander Snow?”

“All I’ve wanted this week was to see you.” 

You shift uncomfortably under him. A look of distress crossed your face. 

“What’s wrong?” he sits up beside you. 

“Am I the next Lucy Gray?” 

“Ah! Lucy Gray,” he mutters, “If I hear that name again.” 

He gets up to give himself distance from you, going over to his desk and leaning against it with his hands.  

“Don’t deny it. Smiley told me you used to sneak off to see her after the shows.”

“I once had to carry Smiley back to the compound because he was so drunk he forgot how to walk. But you want to take his word over mine?” 

“Yes. You’re a liar. Is Tigris really your cousin?” 

He throws his hands up, astonished at the question. “Yes. I have a cousin and a Grandmother waiting for me in the Capitol. Both of which you will meet when we get back to the Capitol.”

“We?” You felt your heart stop. 

He turns his head to you.

“Yes, we. Did you think I was going to leave you behind?” 

“I can’t go to the Capitol. I belong here.” You think of your mother and Edmund. 

His jaw clenched but his movements are slow as they come towards you. 

“I belong in the Capitol. You belong with me. As soon as Ravinstill dies, we are on the first train out of District 12.”

What would happen to you once he got bored of you in the Capitol? In District 12 he would cast you out into familiar streets but would he even bother to get you back home once he decided you were no longer worth the time? 

You shake your head no and he takes your face between his hands. 

“You’ll like the Capitol, I promise. Pretty dresses. Food. You and Tigris will become fast friends.”

“What about my mother?’’

“We’ll send her money. She’ll be alright without you.” 

“Coriolanus, no.” His name felt funny coming out of your mouth. 

He adjusts to a more menacing position; his fingers tightened on your face, his body stiffened into a hard stance over you and his eyes squinted down on you. 

“Do you honestly think you have a say in the matter?.” 

You begin to cry “Please, I can’t go to the Capitol.”

He softens under your tears, the tight hold on your face turns gentle, and he drops himself to your height. 

“I know this is your home, but you will be happy in the Capitol. I’ll make you happy in the Capitol.” 

He won’t ever have to hear the name ‘Lucy Gray’ again and you’ll never have to keep wondering if you’ll have the same fate as her.

The buzzing from his desk saved you from any more useless begging. 

He looked visibly annoyed at the interruption but answered it anyway. 

Releasing you with a sigh, he walks over to his desk and presses a little button. 

“Yes?” Coriolanus answers. 

“Sir, Commander Bonza is looking for you.” The female voice spoke over the intercom. 

“Show him to the conference room. I’ll be right there.”

He comes back over to you, taking your shoulder in his hand. 

“Just stay here. I’ll only be an hour.” He leads you back over to the couch and you take a seat. “I’ll have them bring in tea.” 

He doesn’t look back as he leaves the room. 

You left as soon as you thought it safe enough to do so. 

You try not to run to avoid looking suspicious but your quick pace could not be slowed. You had to get out of the compound. 

A few stare at you as you pass but don’t try to stop you.

The gate opens freely, and you turn back to ensure you aren’t being chased

As you enter the dirt track back to the district, you hear your name being called. 

Emerging out of the trees, Edmund stands tall in his worn jacket. 

You throw your arms around his shoulders and allow yourself to be kept upright by him. 

“What happened? Are you alright?” He frantically asks.

“What are you doing here?” You shot back a question of your own. 

“I saw the Peacekeeper van take off with you. Look here” he shows you the hand-held wire cutters he held, “I was coming to get you. I promise, you weren’t alone”. 

He pockets the cutters to use his hands to wipe away your running tears, “What happened? Did he hurt you?” 

You shake your head no, pulling yourself back to his chest. 

“The Capitol,” you cry, “He plans to take me back to the Capitol.” 

“What? Why?”

The sound of a Peacekeeper van approaches and he pulls you back into the trees. 

“We have to go to the mountains. We’ll take your mother, and I’ll pick up more shifts. We’ll be alright, okay? I promise”. 

You cling to him as the car rolls past, certain that they are going to jump from their van and rip you from him. 

“And if he finds us?” you ask. 

Edmund brings his hand up to the back of your head, “He won’t. But if he does, then I’ll kill him.”

You look up at his beautiful, serious face. You knew he would kill for you and you knew you would do the same for him. But Commander Snow had too much power over District 12. Even just mentioning that you wanted to kill him could have you and anyone you have ever talked to hanged. But he wasn’t going to be Commander Snow forever. 

President Ravinstill will die and Commander Snow will become Candidate Snow. 

He won’t have time to chase you up the mountains. He’ll be on the first train out to shake hands and kiss babies. 

You tell Edmund this. Going up to the mountains too early would only get you all killed. It was better to wait for the announcement of the President's death and take off then. That way you might only have to hide from Peacekeepers who don’t really care.

He would get busy with his election and forget about the girl from District 12. And you in turn would forget about Commander Snow. 

Edmund disagreed. You need to move now. But with your mother in her fragile condition, you doubted she could even make it up to the cabins. And with Coriolanus occupied with the other commander, it would allow for more time to prepare for the move.

This argument won him over even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

You knew him well enough to know that when he told you that he ‘had to get you home’, what he really meant was, ‘You’re right. We should wait. We can’t let our fear take over our sensibility’. 

As you walked back home, you clung to his arm. He must have found it difficult to walk as you wrapped yourself around his arm but he made no complaint the whole journey. In fact, he said nothing the entire journey about anything, and you made no attempts to change that. Happily walking in silence. 

You were almost disappointed when you had to release him on your front porch. 

‘‘I have to go home, but I’ll be right back. I’ve got my brother waiting for me to take him hunting.”

“Why would you be right back then?”

“You want me to stay, don’t you? After today.” 

“No.” You could almost laugh at his words if they weren’t going to make you cry. 

“No. You should go with your brother. I’m fine. And Commander Snow won’t be back tonight if he’s seen me today.” 

You brush your hands down the breast of his coat. 

“If you bring me back a squirrel. I’ll make you squirrel stew.” 

You smile up at him to see him already smiling down at you. 

“You’ve got a deal, little lady.” His hands cup your elbows as he turns stoic again, “Are you sure you will be alright?” 

You had been through so much worse just weeks prior. 

You nod your head yes. “Look, can you go? I don’t want your brother to hate me.” 

He smiles once more showcasing his slightly crooked front tooth. 

“Never” he promises, “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow yeah?”

“Through-”

“Through the back door, yeah yeah. I know.” 

He moves his hands from your elbows and grips your shoulders instead, stooping his head down to you. “I do love you. You know that, right? I always have, and I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

You were unsure of how to respond. ‘I love you too’ seemed appropriate but you weren’t sure if they meant the same thing anymore. He takes the words out of your mouth when he kisses you.

You kiss back. His lips felt softer than Coriolanus’. His kiss is much more gentle and less needy. You wished it was your first kiss but that now belonged forevermore to Coriolanus. This would just have to go down as your first real kiss. 

Still the longer it lasted, the louder the sound of a firing squad sounded. He pulled back just before you did. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he offers. 

“Goodnight, Edmund.” 

You watch him track back down the steps and into the darkness. 

You felt stunned that he had kissed you. That you had kissed him back and enjoyed it. 

Your brother would be mortified. But no more mortified, you supposed, than the kisses received from Coriolanus. 

The rush of the kiss doesn’t wear off as you enter your home. You reimage it as you sit at the kitchen table. 

When Coriolanus kissed you, it almost hurt. They never came singular but again and again, until something else called him off. 

But at least you knew he meant it. 

Edmund's kiss was almost unsure. 

Your brother's best friend had always held a special place in your heart but could it grow into seeing him as a separate man? As your man? 

You wonder if he was thinking the same thing. If somehow he got confused amongst the pressure and took his love for you as something more. 

Would he have kissed you any other way, for any other reason, if Commander Snow wasn’t in the picture? After he was gone would Edmund kiss you again, or flee into work from pure embarrassment? 

A soft knock at the door interrupted your sprailing. 

Thinking it was Edmund again, you rush to the door. Had he come to prove that the kiss was intentional and that he planned to continue his affections after Coriolanus? 

As you opened the door, you readied yourself for another kiss. But your boss was not ready to give you one. 

You stare at her surprised. She wore her normal gray dress and black boots but carried a moonshine bottle in her hand. 

“Miss Escot.” You state. 

“You ain’t come around. Figured I’ll come to you.” She steps forward to indicate her intentions of coming in and you step aside to let her.  

“So, was it everything you dreamed of?” She laughs as she enters. 

“You were wrong.” 

She spins to you, shocked, “So he ain’t touched you.”

You felt your face turn hot and red as the subject came up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Right, so he just ain’t fucked you, yet.” She looks surprised, almost worried. She turns back around and places the bottle on the kitchen table. 

“I was wondering why you hadn’t come running back to me for a job.” 

She sighs, sitting down on a chair that had its backing almost ripped out during the raid. 

“Get two glasses.”

You do as she asks, bringing them to the table but she doesn’t unscrew the drink. 

“He plans to take me back to the Capitol,” you admit. 

“You don’t plan to go do you?”

“Of course not.” 

“Strange man. You don’t take whores home.”

You flinch at the word but knew she meant no offense. 

“So,” she uncorks the bottle and splashes the liquid out into the glasses, “What’s your plan?”

You had thought about telling her about yours and Edmund’s plan but didn’t fully trust her enough. 

“I don’t know.” 

Your boss laughs, throwing her head back. 

“I can’t believe after all that, all he wants to do is a little roughhousing.” 

“He ain't touched me. I told you.” You insist. 

She stops laughing, “Save it for when your hickeys aren’t on display.” 

You pull your dress to hide your neckline. The heat from the embarrassment steams your face.

“So you gonna kill him?” She asks.

“Why do you care what I plan to do.” 

“Because I would hate to see you hanged and that’s what gonna happen if you try”. 

“I am not going to try to kill him, and he aint taking me back.” 

“Big words from a small girl,” your boss mocked, “Sometimes you just have to know when you’ve been beat.” 

“I would rather die then-”

“Commander Snow.” Your boss spoke in a loud hard tone, and you turned to see him in the doorway. 

A chill ran up your spine. He still wore the same hard expression from his office. 

He leaves the door open as he walks in, keeping his eyes on you. 

He turns to your little boss, glaring at her, but he keeps his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Not here to offer her a job are you?”

“Of course not, sir. Just visiting.” It was the first time you had ever heard your boss speak respectfully to someone intimidating her. 

“Just leaving,” he orders. 

“Yes, sir,” she agrees. He passes the bottle of moonshine to her, not wanting it left on the table for you. 

She rushes away with it in her hands but he calls out to her as she walks. 

“Oh, you weren’t the friend hiding in the cupboard the other day were you?” 

She turns to answer him but her face reads that she was surprised by his accusation. 

You mentally plead with her to say yes. She must have seen it through your wide eyes. 

“Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir”. 

You were sure the words tasted like acid coming out of her mouth. She shrinks as he stalks towards her, grabbing her by the shoulder and tossing her out. 

“Don’t come back again” He shuts the door on her

He comes back over to you.

“Imagine my surprise when I came back to find you had gone”. 

“I have to check on my mother.”

He pulls you back by your arm, “There you go again. Running away.”

“No, sir.”

“Back to sir now?”

He pushes you down into a chair and you catch yourself on its arms.

You go to get up again, making an excuse about dinner but he puts his hand out. 

“Don’t,” he warns. 

He leans over you in the chair, and you shrink back as far as you can. 

“You shouldn’t have left today.”

You nod your head, unsure of what to say. 

“Say you’re sorry,” he demands. 

‘‘I am sorry.” 

“And you’ll do anything to make it up to me.” 

His face was inches from you, if you moved a centimeter you could brush against his nose.

“Sure,” you grit. If you had learned anything, he could make you do what he wanted anyway. 

“There’s a public hanging tomorrow, I would like for you to be there”. 

“Yes, Sir”. You said a silent prayer that it was no one you knew. 

Coriolanus picks up the cups from the table and douses the floor with the moonshine. 

“And I don’t ever want you around that woman again. She’s a bad influence”.

“Yes, Sir” you doubted she would ever be back again anyway. You doubted that while Coriolanus was around, you would ever see a friendly face again.

—-----

Simley picked you up again the next morning but refused to utter a word to you. 

It was a terrible feeling. You had just hoped Coriolanus had only given him a firm talking to. You now wished you hadn’t said anything to get him into trouble.

You were dropped off at the gate of the Compound this time where it was a Peacekeeper who escorted you from the car into Coriolanus’ office. 

He was not there and did not turn up as the day went on. 

The door only opened once and it was a young girl who brought in your lunch. 

You watched from the window as the Peacekeepers set up for the hanging. The grunts laid the infrastructure of the stage and barricades while the higher-ups went around with vicious-looking dogs and metal detectors. 

It was late afternoon by the time the blue uniforms came off and the official Peacekeeper uniforms were worn by everyone. They took their positions with rifles in the watchtowers, and the other Peacekeepers formed a line across the stage. It gave them a view of the takeaway metal fence that separated the divide between the stage and the audience, leaving a small gap for a family member to come grab the shoes. They chatted amongst themselves as they waited for the gate to be swung wide for the public. 

A knock on the door told you that it wasn't Coriolanus. A Peacekeeper poked his head through the door and asked you to come with him. 

You follow him out to where Coriolanus stood in front of the stage, speaking to a man dressed in a similar uniform. 

You waited with the guard until he was finished. He takes your hand in his as he nears and dismisses the Peacekeeper. 

“They are just about to open the gate,” he says. He takes you to the front of the where the audience would stand, taking his cuffs out, he clips one against your wrist and another onto the metal fence. It was the spot directly in front of the microphone in which he was to speak into in a few moments. 

You pulled against it feeling embarrassed. You were like a dog that was chained to a post. 

 “Watch me up there,” he instructs. 

He walks up the stage, saying a few words to an officer already up there. The officer pulls out a communicator from his pocket and must have given the go ahead as the gates swung wide and the people began to trickle in. 

You took the scarf out of your hair and layed it across the chain. No one needed to know whose dog you were. 

People soon surrounded you as the small area filled. Someone important must be getting hung today. 

Coriolanus begins the opening remarks about the greatness of Panem, and the need to strive for a better future for all of us. It was a speech he repeated a hundred times and never held any meaning to him. You could see the same Commander from before standing up on stage behind him. He looked gleeful to be there and you shared Coriolanus’ same distaste for the man.

He returns to the cards as he reads out the first convicted man. 

They bring him out from the prison as Coriolanus speaks, known as the dead man’s walk. 

The man was crying softly as they forced him up the steps and onto the box. He was in his late 50’s and underfed. The peacekeepers easily got the noose around his neck despite his fight against it.

“For the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the Districts you, Benjamin Harrison, are sentenced to death”. 

The box is kicked from under him and you shut your eyes until the sound of flailing feet stops. 

They drop the body like it was nothing, but the peacekeepers allow a moment for a family member to take his shoes. No one does, and the body is dragged off stage. 

You feel the crowd rustle behind you as someone makes their way to the front. They all tried to be quiet from the disruption as Coriolanus read the next name and charge. No one wanted to be caught disrespecting the Commander, and be the next name called up. 

The person finds their way to the front, beside you. You don’t look at them, keeping your eyes focused on Coriolanus who sporadically looked up to ensure you were watching him. 

“What a lovely day for a hanging.”

You recognised the voice but you still had to look to believe it.

“Edmund,” you grit through your teeth, “What are you doing here!”

“You’re not alone, remember?”

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, but you can feel his fingertips brush yours while Coriolanus is busy reading out the charges.

You were thankful he was there, despite the danger of it. There was nothing more you hated than attending the death of another. 

You could feel Coriolanus’ stare upon you and you made a note to look back at him. 

Another man walks onto the stage with a solemn look. He is hanged without fuss and without tears. 

Edmund seemed to know him as the box was kicked, his hands latched onto the bars of the fence, and he let out a ‘tsk’.

You lower your hand and take hold of his pant leg. The small connection made you feel safer under the gaze of the Commander. You were sure he couldn’t see your hold. There were too many bodies pressed together to really work out whose hand belonged to whom.

A woman in her early 40’s was called out next and she pleaded and begged but the peacekeeper wouldn’t even look at her. She mentioned something about her son before the box was kicked out from her and the words were strangled in her throat.

Coriolanus paused upon the next name and for once he actually had your real attention. 

He clears his throat and his voice comes back strong, “Victor Tatin, a rebel and an informant to his higher-ups.”

They bring out a small boy. Doubtful he even had his name in the draw for the Hunger Games and yet still being killed by the Capitol. The shackles were too big for him and he tripped and stumbled as he walked. Edmund's hand clamped down on yours.

“Victor was the main distributor of anti-Capitol propaganda, who used his position as an errand boy here at the Compound to report back to those who wish the district harm.” 

The boy is lifted up onto the stage as the stairs prove too difficult to climb in his chains.

"For this crime, and for the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the districts, you, Victor Tatin, are sentenced to death.” 

You cry out as two boxes are moved from under him, and the small boy stops his tears. 

You look up to Edmund who had fury in his eyes. 

Coriolanus steps away from the microphone, watching as they gently lower the dead boy to the ground.

The Commander of District 4 takes the opportunity to say a few words himself. 

“Let it be known that all rebels will be caught and be brought to justice. There is nowhere to hide, and no comfort to be provided. All rebels and sympathizers will be hanged!”. 

Coriolanus retakes the microphone and wraps up the event with a statement of what was to be done with the bodies, and how the Capitol is rewarding the information given with a food drive occurring in the middle of town the next morning. 

As people left as fast as they came, you were forced to tear your hand away from Edmund. 

“Come on,” he turns to follow the crowd but you can’t. 

You check to see that Coriolanus has his back turned to talk to his officers, and you take the chance to show Edmund the cuff around your wrist. 

“He wants me to stay” you explain. 

Edmund tugs the chain as if he had the strength to break it. 

“Go,” you demand, seeing Coriolanus turn his shoulders back. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he promises. 

You were alone again but felt better for knowing that every second that passed brought you closer to meeting Edmund on the track back home. 

Coriolanus remained on stage but another peacekeeper came to undo your cuffs and accompany you back to his office. 

You break down in tears even before the door is closed. You knew the image of the small boy would haunt you. You couldn’t imagine what it would do to Coriolanus. 

Is that why he brought you here? To offer him comfort for his crimes. 

He doesn’t collect it in a reasonable time frame. You are left waiting for two hours before he comes to you. 

He looked frail as he entered. His hat had disappeared, and his commander's jacket was folded over his arm. It left him in his gray trousers and formal light blue dress shirt. 

“Everyone is gone,” he comments, throwing his jacket on the couch and walking over to where you sat in the guest chair. 

You stand as he comes closer to let him know no comfort would be given. 

“He was only a boy,” you whisper. Coriolanus nods his head in agreement. 

“I tried to send him to the Capitol as an Avox but Commander Bonza was determined to see him hang”. 

You wondered if it was a small mercy. Life as an Avox was a fate worse than death. Still, he was so small they had to use two boxes to prop him up on the stage. 

“You could have stopped it. You’re the Commander of District 12, not him.” 

Coriolanus sighs, sitting down in his chair, “And have Commander Bonza think I was weak against rebels? I need his support in the presidential run.”

“He was just a boy.” You repeat, the tears spilling freely from your eyes. 

“I know, Y/N. I know.” You could see he was getting wound up. 

“Come here,” he directs. Deciding not to push him too far, you do and he sits you on the desk in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head into your side. 

“He cried for his mother in the holding cell”. 

Coriolanus remembered crying for his mother on nights when the pain in his stomach from hunger was too much to bear. It felt almost therapeutic now to hear you cry for the boy. In a way, you were crying for Coriolanus too. 

He holds you close for his own comfort. 

“They don’t hang children in the Capitol. You’ll never have to see it again.”

You wanted to make the argument that they shouldn’t hang here but his temper was short, and your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 

Instead, you let him hold you, gently rubbing his back. You were surprised after all the terrible things he had done that this was the burden he struggled to carry. 

He seemed content to lay against you as you comforted him. It seemed crazy to you that you were, but you felt so shallow that you allowed your default mode to take over. Besides, the sooner he felt better the sooner you could meet up with Edmund for your own comfort. 

The time passed quickly with no movement or sound from Coriolanus. 

The clock on the wall read 6:30. You decide enough time has passed to make your escape. 

“I have to go, Commander.” You rise from him but he keeps your waist in his hands.

“Stay,” he begs

You shake your head. 

“Please, just for tonight.” 

“I have to get home to my mother.”

“Tomorrow will you stay?”

“No. I can’t.” 

“You can,” he contests, “You just won’t”. 

“My mother needs me.” You tear his hands off him and he shoots out of his chair. 

“She should get used to your absence.”

“I am not going to the Capitol.” You seethe. 

“I don’t know where else you think you are going.” 

You turn to leave but he yanks you back.

“No, no. I need you to stay.” 

“Get off of me,” you demand.

“You’re not leaving me.” 

You repeat your demand and shove him harshly off you.

“You’re telling me no? After everything I’ve done for you?” he squints his eyes at you. 

“If you don’t stay with me, you can forget about food for the next month.” 

You freeze at his words. There wasn’t enough food to last a month. Maybe ten days. You would properly be ok with your saved money and Edmunds hunting, but it would be a dead give-away that you had other means beside him. 

You stop struggling against him, and his grip loosens on you. 

“Stop acting like this, alright?”

His hands go to the side of your face and he tugs you closer. 

“We are on the same side. It wasn’t my decision to kill the boy but it was something I had to do.  You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you? Can’t you act like that? Even just for tonight?”

His desperation was a dangerous thing so you nodded your head. The last time you ran from him after a hanging, he was so hurt, he made your life a living hell for months. You worried what he would do now that he has left you destitute and dependent on him. You had nothing more he could take, but the whipping post remained. 

Your complacency returns him to a less manic state. His tired eyes soften, and his body falls back to the defeated state that he came in with. 

“Okay,” he says softly and takes your hand. 

He leads you back to his apartment with your hand in his. It was small but well-built. Everything was hard metal from the floors to the dining room table. He had a small kitchen space straight to the left with an old fridge. Directly across from it, separated by the hallway was a living space that only consisted of a worn green couch facing a mounted tv, and a small table with a radio on top. 

“It’s not much,” he comments. 

You had been to houses without roofs. This seemed like a palace. 

He leads you into the center of the room, “Kitchen,” he points, “Ah, living room”. 

Taking you down the hallway he opens the first door on the right, “That’s the bathroom”. 

You peek into the small space to see a shower and a toilet. 

He reaches for the door just down to the left and reveals his bedroom. The bed was unmade and there wasn’t a single personal item left lying around. Apart from the bed and a standing wardrobe, there was nothing else in the fairly spacious room. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

You shake your head no. You weren’t sure you could stomach anything after today. 

He takes you back to the bathroom, “Why don’t you take a shower and we’ll go to bed?” 

“Towel,” he places a hand on a white towel hanging up on a hook, and then opens the mirror to show three shelves, “Toothpaste and my toothbrush”. 

Everything he offered was already something he used. You knew he at least had another towel to offer you but he wanted to share everything. 

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you to change into.” 

“Thanks,” you knew he wanted to hear it. 

He smiles and kisses your cheek before leaving.

 The steam from the shower began to fill the room by the time you made yourself take off your clothes and get in. You noticed there was no lock on the door, and you were expecting him to come back. 

He never did or at least you never noticed him. While most of the shower was just spent leaning against the wall. You did feel refreshed having fresh teeth. 

Wrapping the towel around yourself you check outside the door. Both the kitchen light and the bedroom light were on. 

If he was waiting in the bedroom you could just take the clothes and return to the bathroom. But only the clothes he promised sat on the bed. One of his white t-shirts, and a pair of boxers. 

It covered you mostly. You place your clothes and boots at the end of the bed and return the towel to the hook. 

You found him eating in the kitchen after you had done. He was eating mince from a bowl, his appetite now returned from killing a young boy. 

He grins at you as he chews. 

It makes you feel self-conscious. 

“I am going to go to sleep,” you state, although you have little hope of actually sleeping. 

“Okay. I’ll join you soon,” he takes another bite. 

You turn back to the bedroom. You even managed to lay down in the dark room but you found yourself too preoccupied with what he was doing to succumb to sleep. You could hear the shower running. What you couldn’t see was him pressed up against the glass, his forehead resting against it next to his hand while he jerked himself off. He couldn’t enter that bedroom with you without releasing first. He imagined it though. Climbing on top of you and sliding his hands under his shirt that you wore. You wouldn’t fight him but invite him closer, letting him have free roam of your body. You would beg for it. Beg him to continue. Beg him to take you back to the Capitol with him. 

He spills out onto his hand. After that, he washes himself clean and readies himself for bed. 

He worries about waking you as he enters the bedroom in nothing but a towel.  

You can almost feel him searching for his clothes. Normally he slept in only his underwear too tired to change at the end of the day, but this time he searches for his disregarded pajama bottoms. He can faintly see the blue stripes from the light outside the door and yanks them from the pile. He doesn’t bother looking for the matching top, just taking a white t-shirt from a stack. He liked that he was matching you. 

 You think he is going to undress in front of you but he takes his clothes back to the bathroom to change. 

The lights turn off and Coriolanus sneaks back into the room. He is slow as he moves down into the sinking bed, careful of waking you. 

You shuffle to let him know you are still awake. His movements turn less careful as he settles. He stills for a second but turns quickly towards you. 

He leans over you, taking the wrist you were lying against and tugging it over himself so he was being spooned. He buries your hand under his cheek and you can feel his breaths against it. 

You wonder if Edmund was still waiting outside of the Compound for you or if he had realized you weren’t coming and had gone home to his family. He’d stay. He was stubborn. 

You hoped your mother was asleep and unaware of your absence. She was only taking her morphling at night but it kept her asleep for 14 hours at a time. If she had taken it at her normal time, you should be home well before she wakes up tomorrow. 

Coriolanus’ scent fills your nose. It was oddly comforting. Every time you breathed it would come rushing up invading your senses. You could only feel him, only smell him. You went to sleep with Coriolanus surrounding you. 

—------

The beeping of an alarm clock woke your restful sleeping. 

You sit up, half unsure of what it was at first. It was Coriolanus who turned it off, but he rolled back over on the bed. 

“What time is it?” you ask. 

Coriolanus sighs, resting a hand over his eyes, “6:30.”

He looked exhausted but rose anyway. His movements were sluggish as he stood from the bed and leaned across it to flatten the bed sheet over you. You toss it off as he did. 

“Go back to sleep”. 

You tell him you’re already up and rise from the bed. 

He was too tired to argue so he went about his morning routine. He takes a fresh uniform out of the cupboard and tells you he’ll be back. 

You dress back in your clothes too. Feeling better for it. 

You make your way to the main area and hear the tap running in the bathroom. 

After not eating dinner, your hunger bore a hole in your stomach. 

You check the fridge to find it is surprisingly bare. Two metal trays sit on top of each other, the food was mainly in tack but you could see small bits torn off. A half-bitten sausage, the grease of where food once sat on the small metal compartment. You unravel tin foil and find a half loaf of pre-cut bread. 

You smell the leftover food, judging it right for consumption. 

It takes you a bit to find your bearings in the kitchen. The top cupboard held food staples; flour, salt and pepper, oil. While the bottom cupboards held the pots and pans. There were only a few and they were worn down by the years. 

They cook just the same, and you fry the mashed potato that was left, and reheat the sausages. 

Coriolanus returns to the kitchen with his Commander jacket in his hand. He looked surprised to find you cooking. 

He drapes the jacket over the back of one chair as he speaks, “I was about to go to the mess hall and bring something back but that smells too good to pass up.” 

He comes over to you and stands behind you with his hands on your hips, placing a kiss to your cheek. You dip the stale bread in the grease of the sausages and fry it.

“Thank you.” 

You were pretty sure it was the first ‘thank you’ you had ever received from him. You rack your brain for another time but only his hits and threats come to mind. 

You stand silent. He was not welcomed to your cooking.

He moves from you at his own free will and goes to a small black machine on the kitchen counter. He is rough as he sets it up. 

Dark liquid pours out and the smell of coffee battles with the smell of oil. 

The first sips pleases him, and he turns to see you looking at him.

He offers you a drink from his coffee cup but you refuse it. 

“Can you get the plates from the top? I can’t reach them”.

He does as you ask, bringing down two white plates and setting them on the counter. He reshuffled the items in the cupboard, so the plates were on the bottom shelf where you could reach. 

You don’t talk further as you plate up the items and take them to the table. You place them opposite to each other, sitting down before he could move them. 

You eat quickly while Coriolanus takes his time to chew. 

He takes a break from his food and has another sip of coffee.

“You see those pants,” he nods to the folded pile of gray pants on the chair and you nod, “Can you iron them for me?” 

It wasn’t a request so you confirmed you would. 

“And my shoes need to be shined for tomorrow.” 

“Sure,” you grit before softening your voice, “After that, I was thinking I would go home to my mother. She needs her next morphling dose soon.”

You have not told him that your mother was now only on one bottle a day. He would properly stop the supply altogether if he knew and you needed the money from selling the extra bottles. 

Your real concern is that she would wake up and find you still not home. 

Coriolanus takes a bite of his sausage, he looked to be thinking about your request. 

 “That’s fine,” he finally said. 

He looks at his watch on his wrist before getting up and placing his dish in the sink. 

“It’s Commander Bonza’s last night here. He wants a farewell ceremony. If you hear gunfire that’s all it is.” 

He turns back to you and takes his jacket off the chair and slips it onto himself. 

“I’ll visit when he is finally gone.” 

You nod. At least you will be back on your own turf. Here you felt like an intruder. 

He lifts your chin and kisses you before leaving. 

You remained at the table but he could hear you had gone to wash the dishes as he closed the door. 

His hand stilled. What if he needed you during the day? What if he managed to break away from the attention of Commander Bonza and could come back?

He wondered what you would do back home. Your mother would be close to dead. Would you bake? Go for another walk?

He felt sour. You were more important here than you were there. 

Here at least he knew what you were doing. You were washing dishes, ironing, taking care of him. 

If he let you roam free over the district, who knew what you were doing or who you were talking to? 

The metal pan clanged as he twisted the lock with his key. 

It was Commander Bonza’s last day, he couldn’t be distracted by these thoughts. Today he just needed the comfort of knowing you were here for him. 

—

You rush through your chores without noticing the locked door. You find the laundry room next door to the bathroom and come across a stack of neatly folded towels. Shaking your head you grab the iron from the built-in white shelf and take it back to the living room where you had more space. 

You finish the pants in no time but the shoes proved hard to shine. When you finally got them bright enough it was nearly 9 o’clock. Your mother would be awake soon and the walk home was still 20 minutes. 

The cold that shoots through you when the door fails to open was one of the worst feelings you had ever felt. You yell, bang, and twist at the door but it remains unopened. 

You wait, thinking that maybe he wanted to ensure that the work was done before letting you leave. But lunchtime passes and he doesn’t return. 

You try wedging the door open with a butter knife but it bends the metal. The windows were sealed shut in the air-controlled room, and there was no back door that you could try. 

From the window, you could see a group of Peacekeepers carrying a long and heavy wooden table. You bang on the window, gaining their attention. 

They freeze as if you were a ghost before moving on. 

—-

The ceremony turned into a party. You did hear the sound of saluting gun fire in the late afternoon but soon after it, you would hear the faint sound of music and dancing. Peacekeepers had strung lights across the compound. They were round and shone a dim yellow. 

As night fell they became the only light over the place. You still were sat at the window, waiting for Commander Snow to return and release you. 

Your mind drove you mad. Images of your mother crying out for you. Trying to walk on her own causing herself harm. She would definitely be up by now. Would Edmund tell her where you were or would he try to shield her from the truth?

She would be by herself surely. He would have had to return home to his own family. She would be by herself, worried sick. She wouldn’t believe Edmund no matter how good of a lie he told. You could picture her in bed with her sore back, crying. 

By the time Coriolanus finally arrived home, you were a bilthering mess. 

He drops his keys at the door and comes rushing over to you. 

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t catch your breath through your tears. 

“Hey, what happened?” he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.

You bash him in his chest for his dumb question. 

“My mother,” you gasp between tears, “I need to go home. She needs me.” 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, ‘I’ll take you now.” 

He takes your wrist into his hand and leads you out of his apartment. He doesn’t bother to lock the door. There was nothing to steal anyway, and the men here weren’t stupid enough to try. 

You could hear the men over the music as you walked through the compound. Coriolanus must have left early. 

A few Peacekeepers hid in dark corners smoking, only the light of the cigarette giving them away. You passed two, who scrambled back trying to go unnoticed as they carried their drunk friend back to the barricades. 

Coriolanus doesn’t notice any of it. Or at least he pretends not to. You noticed he was far more observant then he led on.  

He takes you to a two-story building that still had people working inside. He doesn’t take you in but around the back to a large shed that housed the cars. 

He walks along a row of cars before coming to an acceptable one. It was a common patrolling car, with a cage in the back for rebels. 

He looks at the number painted on the side, and leaves you by the passengers door. 

“Wait here. I’ll go get the keys.”

“Hurry,” you tell him but it places no pep in his step. 

There was no way she would have been able to eat anything. Her morphling dose was due hours ago. Even if she managed to get up. She wouldn’t be able to eat from the pain. 

You thought about just leaving him and trying to sprint back to the house. But even with his slow pace the car would be faster. You were outraged by him. You were under the illusion that if you played to his wants, you could continue with your life with minimal distribution. But there was no leniency with him. He had a child-like temper. There was no give and take, there was only take with him. 

He does return moments later with the keys and opens the passengers door to let you in. 

“I’m sure she is fine,” he says as he buckles his own seat belt. 

You don’t speak to him the whole journey, despite his attempts. 

The only sound you made was upon seeing the red sign that marked the beginning of your community.

He parks outside of your house and you rush to get inside. 

“Mum,” you called out before you had even opened the unlocked door.

You gasp as you see Edmund standing in your kitchen. He looked just as shocked to see you. 

“Where have you been!” he demanded. 

You try and shoo him, but Coriolanus was only two steps behind you. 

You feel a protective hand go on top of your shoulder. 

“She’s been with me. Who are you?”

“He’s the maintenance man.” You lie. 

You feel Coriolanus’ hand tighten on your shoulder. Edmund knew the danger he was in. One wrong move and he would be sent to the noose the next morning. 

“I was just fixing some damage in the roof. The door was open and I heard her mother calling out,” he showcases a couple of tools on the bench. You thank God that he did actually take the time out today to fix something, “Normally, Y/N is here. I got worried when she wasn’t.”

“And she planned to pay you with what? She has no money.” 

“Food!” You call out, “I make food for his family in exchange.”

Coriolanus looked unsure but had no other proof he could object with. 

“Go tend to your mother. I’ll make sure the work is finished.” Coriolanus ordered. 

Torn, you don’t make a move. The sole purpose of your trip was to ensure that your mother was okay but you weren’t sure if you could leave Coriolanus and Edmund in the same room. 

“No need. I took care of her. She’s asleep now”. 

“All day? What a loyal friend”.

“Yeah, well someone had to look out for her.” 

Coriolanus takes a step forward, positioning his body so it hides you behind it. 

“Coriolanus Snow.” He held out a hand to shake. 

“Commander Snow, you mean. The mighty Commander of District 12” Edmund holds his hands out in front of him, “I am unworthy to shake such a hand”. 

Coriolanus keeps a still face as he withdraws his hand. 

“That might be true,” Coriolanus shakes his finger at Edmund in an accusing manner, “Didn’t I see you next to my girl at the hanging?” 

Edmund shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve stood next to many people, at many hangings. It all begins to merge into one.”

“I know what you mean,” Coriolanus agrees. 

Talk of hanging makes you nervous. 

“Coriolanus,” you pressed your hand against his shoulder and urged him forward,“How about I make you a cup of tea?” 

He lets you push him to the table, and sit him down.

“Sure.” He answers but his eyes remain locked on Edmund as if he was the unwanted guest. 

You felt better with him sitting. It would at least give Edmund a head start if Coriolanus decided to attack.

“I’ll have one too” Edmund states, turning with you into the kitchen but you stop him with a hand. 

“No” you state, pulling items out of the fridge and placing them into Edmunds hands, “You’ve got to get home. That wife of yours must be cursing your name.” 

Edmund silently begs you to let him stay with his big brown eyes. But you couldn’t. He had to leave before he got himself killed. 

Coriolanus on the other hand looked smug. He sat proud and upright in his chair.

“I’ll show you the door.” Coriolanus looks to get up, and you feel a rush of panic go through you. 

“No need. I built it!” Edmund snapped. 

As much as you would have loved the protection of Edmund, sending him off was the best decision. It had barely been 5 minutes and Edmund was already losing his temper.

“Then you should have no trouble using it”. 

Edmund gives you a pleading look to change your mind but can’t.

“Thank you for your kindness today. I am glad someone was here for my mother”. 

“I still have work to do.” Edmund tries. 

“You can come back tomorrow”. You push your friend to the door. He turns back to you once out of the threshold. 

He says your name softly before the door closes in his face.

You turn back to Coriolanus who looked like the boy who won the biggest prize at the fair.

“I don’t want him in the house if I am not here.” He calls as you make his tea. 

You try to act nonchalant as you answer, “Fine.” 

You finish Coriolanus’s tea and bring it to him at the table.

He tugs your wrist as you pull your hand back and invites you onto his lap.

“You seemed close with the maintenance man,” he states, taking a sip of tea. 

“Not at all. He’s my brother’s old friend. We’re just old acquaintances.”

He rubs your arm, “Why don’t you go pack a bag to take back”.

“Back? I thought that was a one night thing.” You bolt up out of his hold and he continues to sip his tea unbothered. 

“You think I am letting you stay here after finding a man lingering in your house?” 

You doubt if that was his plan long before Edmund was introduced. 

“I told you who he was. My mother needs me here. She can’t even get out of bed by herself”. 

“She seems to be standing just fine now.”

You follow his eyes to the hallway where your mother leaned against the frame out of breath. 

You rush to her, trying to help her back to bed but she resisted. 

“I was so worried,” she huffed. 

“I am sorry.”

Coriolanus rises from his seat to join you and your mother in the hallway. 

“She’ll be coming back with me, ma’am. You are welcome to visit anytime.”

Your mother wanted to argue and scream, you could see it on her face but she bit her tongue.

You spoke for her, “I am not. I am staying here”. 

Coriolanus pushes past you to your bedroom where he yanks, opens the closet and begins searching for something. He tossed things out onto the floor before growing impatient and swifty going over to your bed and stripping the pillow case from the pillow. 

He stuffs the things thrown on the floor into the case. Your underwear, and spare clothes are stuffed into the small sack. 

He leaves the room to head to the bathroom and he sees you still with your mother as he passes. 

He takes your toothbrush and a hair brush laying on the sink, packing it in the case. 

“Lets go,” he demands with a strong hold on your arm. 

You felt so frustrated as he pushed you forward. You scream and pull against him. 

Your mother looked physically pained kneeled over the door frame. She looked as if she was yelling but no sound could come from her mouth. 

You scream at him to let you go but he practically carries you out the door by your waist. He lets you go as if you were going to walk yourself only to pick you up by the waist again and throw you forward towards the car. 

‘‘Let go of her!” You hear Edmunds voice before the force of his hit sends both you and Coriolanus off balance. 

Coriolanus lets go of you to defend himself against Edmunds attacks. He grunts as Edmund gets a good shot to his mouth. His lip split instantly. 

Coriolanus was stronger though. Well fed and well trained. He dodged the next swing and shot back one of his own. It landed against Edmund’s eye. It gave Coriolanus time to distance himself from the car. Now that he wasn’t backed into a corner, Edmund couldn’t rely just on his brute strength. 

He lunged forward again but Coriolanus jumped back in time for the swing to miss. 

With a clear shot to his face, Coriolanus throws his fist into Edmund’s nose. Blood gushed from it, leaving a large red patch. But it doesn’t deter him. He licks the blood off his lips and runs at Coriolanus with his shoulder. 

Edmund’s tackle sent Coriolanus to the ground with an soft groan. With his knees cemented into the ground below, Edmund takes hold of Coriolanus' collar and uses it to bring his face up against his fist. 

You could feel people watching from their houses but none came to help. 

Not even whe Coriolanus managed to reverse positions. He didn’t make the same mistake as Edmund, he kept his body weight centered. One knee kneeling on the ground while the foot of his other leg stayed flat against the earth’s floor. It would be harder for Edmund to roll him over. 

Coriolanus’s fists pounded into Edmunds face. You could see he was losing focus and his body lost power. 

He was going to kill Edmund if he continued. 

You throw yourself over his head, covering what you could with your own body. Coriolanus doesn’t swing down at you. Letting go of Edmunds hair and standing up. 

He spits the blood from his mouth out on the ground, standing tall above you as he drinks in the position you were in. You could feel Edmund raise his hand to your shoulder, his tight grip bunching your shirt. 

Coriolanus’s breathing was heavy but Edmund’s breaths were soft against your ear. 

His lip was bleeding still into his mouth, and he had a cut above his eyebrow that he smeared across his face as he wiped it off. 

You swore you heard him laugh softly as he picked up the pillow case and stuffed the lost items back in before throwing it into the car where it spilled once more. 

He holds the door open for you, his hard stare telling you what to do without words. 

You tear yourself from Edmund who was reluctant to let you go. 

“No,” he groans but you follow your instincts and get into the car. 

The door slams shut and you peer out the window to see Edmund trying to stand on shaky feet. The word must have felt like it was spinning for him. 

Coriolanus gets in and begins driving without a word. 

“Ah,” he sighs, wiping the blood off his lip. 

You choke back tears as you watch Edmund fall down in the mirror. 

“Kill them and you kill me,” you threaten, “I swear, there is not a single thing you can do that would stop me.”

Without your mother, without Edmund, there would be no point in being alive. 

Coriolanus doesn’t answer you. You take it as a sign that he meant you were serious. 

You both fall into silence on the drive back to the compound. You wondered if Lucy Gray was subjected to the same treatment. She was stronger than you were though. She was the victor of the Hunger Games, while you stood there frozen while two men tried to kill each other with their bare hands. If she couldn’t survive him, what hope did you have?

—------

The nightmare returns again that night. 

It starts as it always does. He is in the forest hunting Lucy Gray as she taunts him with her song.

“Are you, are you comin' to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” 

He stalks through the vegetation.  

“Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me?” He feels her once again, as a hand on his shoulder, a wet rasp in his ear. He spins with his gun to the air. 

It was a fatal mistake. He feels the thick rope loop around his neck and yank him up to the trees. He drops his gun in an effort to loosen the knot around his throat. 

Lucy Gray had strung him up in the tree like his father. 

He gasps as he wakes from it, startling you too. 

Your frightened figure was a welcomed sight to Coriolanus who scooped you up from the bed into his arms. His hold hurt you. It was far too tight, and his hot sweaty body overheated you. 

You couldn’t tell him though, you doubt he would even hear you over his loud shaky breathing.

He presses his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. 

He couldn’t have that cabin, that forest, that girl, haunt him the rest of his days. He would have to conquer this fear. 

He would go back with you, where he would face Lucy Gray or leave the ghost of her in the trees. 

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#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth #dead dove do not eat #commander snow

[thisismeracing]

Honeymoon stunts | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.2k ― Warnings: not proofread; mentions of a wedding and public sex; graphic description of sex; p in v; breeding kink; +18 (minors DNI); ― Summary: Charles and Yn just got married, and although they know too much about one another, there's always something new to discover together, such as Charles' new breeding kink. ― A/n: Every piece I write here it’s a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍

⁕ I just got back from a shadowban so Tumblr is still a bit slow on delivering my stuff, that being said, it would be nice if you guys could not only like, but reblog this piece. Thank youuu!

Based on this request.

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⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)

Charles loved the sea. He loved what it represented, its mysteries, and how it could be used for many interpretations of life. For example, he loved to think that life sometimes worked just like the sea: it had its highs and lows, sometimes the waves would reach the furthest part of the beach, and sometimes it would retract and crash almost around itself. He, like the sea, has had many setbacks the past few years, but, just like the sea, Charles too had his high tides. The most recent one being just the other day: his marriage.

Charles married Yn, and he considered this his high tide. The water reached the driest pieces of land in his heart. 

He have never been so happy the way he was with Yn by his side. 

And as if on cue, she appeared in front of him obstructing a bit of the sunlight reaching his face. Charles pinched his sunglasses at the point of his nose, leaving just enough space for Yn to see his eyes. 

“Hi, husband,” she grinned.

“Hey, wife.”

“I missed you in bed,” she confessed before straddling his lap, her hands firmly planted on his strong shoulders.

Charles mumbled a quick apology busying his lips with her ebony skin. He trailed kisses from her neck to her jawline and the corner of her lips, and then from her cheeks to her shoulders where he lowered the straps of her nightgown. Yn smiled and with a dashing attitude, she pushed the small piece of fabric enough to free one of her breasts. 

“Chérie,” Charles lets out a pained whisper as if trying to hold himself back.

“It’s a private beach.” Yn reminded.

“We’re going into the kinky public sex?” he teased lightening the mood and Yn threw her head back in laughter. The Monegasque watched how that position exposed so much for him. Just for him.

And what could Charles do if not take it?

One of his hands tightened on Yn’s waist, while his open palm found a home in the middle of her back bringing her body closer to his mouth. He kissed and licked over the places he knew he had left small lovebites the night prior. Yn whimpered and rocked her hips against his bulge, she was wearing nothing but the nightgown and Charles moaned when he felt her wetness against his trunks. He dipped one of his hands between their bodies, his skilled fingers were fast to find her sensitive bud and rub it teasingly. She bucked her hips harder and Charles groaned. 

It was her turn to kiss her way from his neck to his face. She took her time biting, sucking, and gently kissing his now-tanned skin. And she did it all while lazily rocking on top of him, which only drove Charles crazy. Yn, however, didn’t kiss his lips and he was about to protest when she got up, took off her nightgown threw it at his face, and covered her breasts with one of her arms. 

“Yn…” Charles warned and she giggled. The wind and the waves mixed themselves with her happy noises and Charles swore he found paradise again. 

“You want it?” she teased spinning her body for him. “Come get it!” she giggled again and took off to their cabin. Charles gripped her piece of clothing and laughed before sprinting right after her. He got to her just when she reached the door and it wasn’t long before they stumbled into the bed. Yn sitting on top of him again.

Charles gripped her neck and brought her face down to his, smashing his lips to hers in a messy and needy kiss that Yn reciprocated with the same amount of passion. She rocked against him again, and this time her fingers were the ones between their bodies, she pushed his trunks down freeing his hard cook. Their lips were still attached to the others when Yn started pumping his shaft, her thumbs finding his head every once in a while, and her mouth swallowing all the dirty noises coming out of her husband. 

“Fuck, mon amour, just- oh fuck,” Charles started but lost track of his words when Yn tightened her hand on his base. 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t tease me,” he whimpered and she smiles victorious. It was a wonderful feeling to have Charles under her begging and whimpering to have her. It felt powerful. He needed her just as much as she needed him. 

Yn kissed his collarbone one last time and got into a seating position grinding his dick against her lips, gathering just enough slick to help him slip inside her. Which Charles did in a single movement. It earned a loud moan from both of them. 

“Oh, fuck- you feel so good, chérie,” he breathed.

“Charls,” Yn moaned starting a sequence of rotational movements. She rocked and ground on top of him and Charles raked his short nails on her back and thighs. She repeated her movements and they felt the ecstasy that angle caused. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” Yn almost screamed when Charles lifted his hips to find her moves. Her body shook with want. He felt bigger when she rode, and she could feel his pulsing dick so much better that way. It was fantastic. 

Charles gripped her breasts and took one nipple between his teeth teasing and playing with it while their bodies kept rutting against each other. Yn raked her fingers throw his brunette strands, gripping his face and directing his lips to her.

Her stomach tingled whilst Charles devoured her until her body started to tremble, “I’m coming,” Yn choked and Charles smirked lifting his lips again. His thrusts got sloppier and Yn knew from that fact that he wasn’t far behind her.

When the wave of pleasure washed over her, she let her body fall on top of his, her body dissolving into pleasure, but her hips still grinding waiting for Charles' turn. He grunts and moans and he’s about to pull out when Yn perches her body harder forcing them to stay in that position.

“Come inside me,” she pleads and lets out a string of curses in French. 

“You want me to let you have my seed?” Charles asks and Yn can only nod, her sensitive clit brushing against his pubic bone. “Huh? You want me to put a baby in you, mon amour?”

 Her eyes roll back and she cries feelings another orgasm approach, “Please, Charles!” 

“Tell me, chérie. Tell me you want me to stuff you full of my cum,” his voice is low, but his tone is set and straight, almost like an order and Yn obeys.

“Please, I want to- I want you to empty yourself inside me. I’ll have all your babies, love.” 

Charles bites her shoulders and sensually groaned on her ear when his orgasm finally came. It brought her second one along and they rode it together, gripping the other for dear life, moaning profanities, and love confessions. 

When the dizzy feeling of the orgasm started to fade, Yn sat up, a small smirk on her face, Charles was still buried inside her, she could feel their wetness mixing together between her legs, and the Monegasque could only smile blissfully at her. “So… a breeding kink, Charls?” 

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @formulakay3 @iloveyou3000morgan @fdl305 @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss

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Feel free to leave me a message or ask <3

#cl16 #millie writes smut #f1 smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot

[justporo]

Point Break

Being with Astarion is - almost - perfect. And it is so easy to fall for him and into his arms. But the least thing you can try and do is offering to turn the tides. (NSFW)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Here we are yet again with something that was supposed to be like... well, not almost 2k words. But here we are. Also this is yet another instance where I inflate the smut with emotions. There are just so many... feelings to be had!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: smut Wordcount: 1,9k

Astarion was on top of you, inside of you. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and the air was filled with nothing but your mutual moans and gasps and Astarion’s haughtily whispered sweet little nothings. You were staring up at him, almost unable to take your eyes off him, his perfect body and face. Your eyes and your mind would always find their way back to them, to him.

That’s how it had been ever since the vampire had invited you that one night to that clearing in the forest. Continually, you had met up in the nights, talked some, started kissing, gotten naked - and then you had lost yourself in his arms, under his touches repeatedly.

It was so easy and so good, you nearly didn't have to think about it - almost completely perfect.

Now, he had your hands pinned to the ground next to your head, his hips rolling and thrusting into you at an even pace, slowly making you descend further into the depth of your own lust and seemingly unending pleasure. He’d been your reliant guide in this from the very first moment on. With him you had spiralled down while he'd shown you truths about yourself you hadn't ever dreamt of. And this far you had always come back up again, luckily.

You held his heated gaze that sent slow shivers of blazing hot fever over and through you. Only when the pleasure became almost too much to bear you let your head fall back and your eyes roll into your skull - focusing solely on the sensation of being with Astarion. It filled every corner of your mind.

No one could ever compare to him. Every fantasy or expectation you might have had in your life was outdone by a margin. He was consummate in any kind of way imaginable: face and body looking like they were lovingly crafted by the most generous of gods, his touches and kisses each masterfully executed, second to none. He had exactly figured out what made you lose your mind, arch your back in heedless pleasure time and again. What made you moan and scream his name as if it was the last breath you were able to take and your only wish was to use it to utter his name a final time.

It was so easy to return to this - intoxicating, addicting. How could you resist?

And so you came whenever he called - no questions asked.

And yet it had slowly changed, it was more than what could be seen at a single glance. Not merely quickly disappearing ripples on an otherwise calm water surface. Things were stirring in the depths and would come up for a break at some point, you were sure of it.

Even when you weren’t with Astarion now, thoughts about him kept turning around in your mind. It had become more intense, the height your heart jumped whenever he smirked at you becoming ever higher. He was slowly invading your heart and soul, along with the body he had already laid claim upon.

But still there were these moments, when it felt off. Something lurking just at the edge of your sight, something not quite right. Because there were these bits and pieces he slowly let fall from his armour, showing some of the pain and the fear beneath. Sometimes he couldn’t hold your gaze, even though insisting elaborately that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in those moments. But you slowly recognised that as the lie it was.

It made your chest clench and ache, filling it with the wish of freeing Astarion from whatever it was that had forced him to raise up those thick castle walls all around him.

The vampire kept moving, crushing his hips into yours and you felt him hit deep inside of you. Your hands were clenching his as you were all ready to let him push you off the edge again - and again and again and again.

You could just keep going like this. Let him lure you back to him, time and again. But then - where would this lead?

You could take what it was he had to offer without ever questioning what it cost. But was this really what you wanted?

Your heart already knew the answer.

“Astarion”, you gasped near breathless. With lips parted, taking heavy breaths, you looked at him pleadingly. You softly wiggled your fingers, asking him to free your hands from his grasp.

Immediately he stopped moving.

His chest was heaving, he was buried deep inside of you. He held you, body and mind.

His mask had dropped.

Gone was the master seducer, the dark, promising gaze, the sultry demeanour. Left in its place was sudden worry and fear.

Astarion’s eyebrows were raised in question, red eyes round in the silvery moonlight casting your bodies and faces in pale, cold light. He looked so young all of a sudden.

The vampire slowly let go of your hands and lifted himself up and further away from you. Your bodies were still impossibly close but yet it felt like there were leagues between you in this moment, even when that hadn’t been your intention at all.

He swallowed heavily but he didn’t dare speak. Just in these short moments you saw how panic almost overtook him. So you moved quickly - to get your point across and break the unbearable tension.

You cupped his face softly in your hands and nudged him until at least a fraction of his tension eased and he leaned towards you. Your fingers wandered lightly over his face, over his cheekbones, his brows as you leaned your head to one side, admiring him fully, in awe of him.

His eyes were still on yours, unsure of what was about to happen.

And then you closed the distance and kissed him, hoping to convey what you might never be able to put into words. Your lips covering his with feather-light touches, merely asking, suggesting.

You kissed him slowly and lovingly, allowing him to decide if that was what he wanted or not. And when he softly answered your kiss, carefully and still hesitantly taking you up on the offer, a small gasp left your open lips. Your hands slowly but decidedly wandered further: one tangling in his luscious curls, the other softly caressing one of his pointy ears.

And Astarion answered you with a moan, wandering from his mouth to yours. Different from the others, the ones you were used to: surprised, but pleasantly. You let him deepen the kiss then.

Arching your back when need rolled over you again, you tried to close the gap between your bodies. Desperate to feel every inch of his skin on yours with no space in between. And also offering up what he might take if only he wanted to. Meanwhile you were still acutely aware of how he felt inside of you as you kept dancing on the edge.

He groaned in response and was leaning back into you now, lowering himself on one of his elbows while his free hand came to touch your face while he lowered his body almost fully onto you.

The feeling of him accepting, embracing sent a new rush through you.

You clenched your core around him, giving more. You wanted to give him everything - he needed only to reach out and take it.

This was about much more than just physical pleasure now. You desperately needed him to know that he may take from you whatever he desired. That you wanted him to indulge in you, to be the one falling for once - if that was what he wanted. The need to fully embrace him and never let go of him again burned in your chest and your whole body. You’d offer up all of yourself if that was what it took.

He was melting into your touch while his body seemed consumed by a different kind of tension now. He seemed willing and eager now to take his chances and grasp what fell into his hands.

His fingers grabbed your hair, gently pulling on the strands curled around his fingers. Meanwhile the kiss never broke. It became more heated by the second.The air was filled with your gasps and moans again - but it had changed. Waves were rising up from the depths.

And then he started to move once more.

Withdrawing from you achingly slow at first and then thrusting into you again. Rolling his hips and slamming them into you so hard, just once, made your eyes roll back almost fully into your skull. You moaned, nearly whimpered into his wide open mouth.

“What are you doing?”, he asked quickly and almost completely out of breath, only tearing his mouth from yours because he had to know.

His hips slowly kept moving though. His body already knowing what he had agreed upon while his mind was still catching up.

“Offering you everything”, you replied weakly while you let one of your hands wander down his back. Feeling the gruesome ridges there, but not lingering, dragging your fingertips over his skin, hoping to just leave trails of heat on his skin - hot and pleasant, not cruel, only painful to the point of pleasure. You lifted your legs, pressing one against his side to hold him even closer. And with the other letting your foot softly wander over the back of his calf. Both your thighs squeezing deliciously around his slender hips.

A shiver ran through him and a curt gasp left his throat.

But there wasn’t fear in his gaze anymore. His eyes were ablaze. And in a way you hadn’t seen before in him.

“Letting you pick”, you then continued while he thrust into you again and your body bowed to him, still willing to give more.

His hips kept moving, starting a much rougher and less steady rhythm - in fact his whole body was now trying to get more purchase, knees and feet burying into the ground.

Maybe you’d never see and feel him like this again. But if you could offer him this moment in time, you would happily do it.

“Take only what you want, leave the rest”, you finished and then had to let your head loll back as far as Astarion’s fingers in your hair allowed when the next of his movements brought you to the very edge of sanity.

This wasn’t the clean performance anymore the night had started with. It wasn’t perfect and immaculately exercised, trained a thousand times. But perfect wasn’t what was needed right now. It needed to be real and open.

It didn’t take either of you long before you were both finally swept away. Only a few more thrusts and your fingers sneakily wandering between your bodies while Astarion was now trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, and you were both taken away by waves way bigger than either of you had anticipated. Pledges were made under both your heavy breaths. Hands clawed at skin and into hair, desperately trying to get closer yet. To hold onto each other while you got dragged onto the open sea.

And it was raw, rough around the edges, and deep, much deeper than you had imagined. And maybe it was unsure, unfamiliar; maybe even terrifying.

But it wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t wrong at all.

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#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions

[puck-bunnies]

the risk

jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, public sex, praising

word count: 1.3k

you can’t help but get turned on by running the risk of someone seeing his hands up your dress.

i feel jack’s hands rub up my thigh, shivers running up and down my spine at his cold touch. my thighs clench together, causing friction on the wetness that jack started. “horny already?” he smirks in a soft hum to me.

we sit in a fancy restaurant, pressed in the counter, sitting in a booth. me and jack sit on the same tide of the table, waiting for my friend and her boyfriend to show up to the double date. “when you touch me like that, it’s hard to not be.” i whisper back in a hushed voice, nervous someone would hear our conversation.

jack’s hand works to my inner thigh just under my dress, his pinky grazes my panties, feeling my wetness already soak through. “how long do you think before they get here?” he asks, his pinky continuing to rub.

i know exactly what’s on his mind. “not long, we don’t have time.” it’s not that i don’t want jack, it’s that i’m nervous of us getting caught. then again, being in public and running the risk of someone seeing what jack does to me turns me on even more.

“you willing to test that?” he smirks.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, i slightly nod. that’s the only thing it takes for jack to start his work, sliding the crotch of my panties to the side and touching my pussy with his bare hands. i bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to make any noise that would draw attention to us. “good girl, stay quiet.” jack whispers in my ear.

it takes all of me to stay completely quiet, suddenly the waitress shows up at the end of the table. luckily the table and jack’s body shields the waitresses view of seeing anything. “can i get you guys some more drinks while you wait?”

the wine i had ordered already disappeared long ago, but i don’t want to open my mouth, i’m scared a moan will leave it. “i’m okay, thank you.” jack tells the waitress, expecting her to leave. but she looks over at me, my teeth still puncturing my bottom lip.

“i’m okay for now, thanks.” i manage to get out, jack’s two fingers curl up inside me, making my eyes shut. the waitress disappears as jack smirks back over at me.

his two fingers curl up inside me, reaching all the right spots my small fingers can’t reach. my thighs squeeze against his fingers, his other hand guides them back open to continue to move his fingers between them. my back slightly arches off of the back of the booth, eye brows raising in an innocent manner as i stare into jack’s eyes.

the devilish smirk remains on his face. all my hands want to do is tug on his soft curls as be nuzzles between my legs, talking to me and telling me how much he loves me. but this is hardly the place for any of that happening, fuck he shouldn’t even be fingering me here.

a blush coats my cheeks as it finally sinks in how wrong this is of us, but it makes me feel so right. how there are so many eyes around us but they don’t see the scandalous actions we’re committing. how jack’s hands are far up my dress and how hard i have to bite on my lip to not fill the room with my screams.

i’m too far in my head that my teeth on my lips losen and a moan seeps through. jack’s actions are quick, capturing me in a quick and passionate kiss. my soft moan going into his house and bringing me back into reality, his tongue fills my mouth for a second before he backs up from the kiss. not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to us.

before he fully backs away from me, he whispers softly in my ear. “keep quiet for me pretty girl.” my hands squeeze the cushion underneath me, the heels of my hands burning with the pressure i grip it with.

everything freezes as i see my best friend envy, and her boyfriend walk into the restaurant, my heart quickening and breath hitching. i can feel my orgasm coming up quickly, my walls clenching around jack’s fingers with a state of pleasure and fear. god i can’t stop now.

they walk over to our table as they spot us, sliding into the booth across from us when neither me or jack stand up to offer a hug. “sorry we were running late, traffic was really bad from logan’s house.” envy says as she takes the drink menu in her hand, glossing her eyes over the different choices of alcohol. “you guys already order drinks?” she asks.

the tightness in my stomach clenches, jack’s fingers don’t stop for a second, continuing to attack my g-spot. my face scrunches, brain fogging as i neglect what envy had just said. “we ordered a glass each, waiting for you guys to get here before we got too into it.” jack answers to cover me. my toes start to curl in my heels, jaw clenching as i feel right on the edge of my release.

i can’t hold it any longer, letting go all over jack’s fingers without warning him. but he knows me too well of when i’m about to finish, he knows my body better than i do. he’s quick to slow his fingers, not wanting to irritate my sensitive core. he pulls them out as my jaw relaxes. all i do is pray that neither envy or logan saw my face as i orgasmed, hopefully too focused on the menu in front of them.

my breath still has to catch up to me, heart beating out of my chest. jack’s fingers rest back on my thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a comforting manner.

i give myself a few minutes before i excuse myself to go to the bathroom. “oh i’ll come with you.” envy speaks up, moving her boyfriend out of the way to join me. i feel guilty that i don’t want her to come, the flush of embarrassment is still burning my cheeks and sweat pooling on my back.

we walk to the bathroom, one woman slipping out of the door before we enter it. all the stall doors are open, leaving only me and her in the bathroom. i enter the first stall, pulling my dress up and panties down. after i wipe the cum from my folds, pulling everything back up and stepping out of the stall.

envy stands at the mirror, touching her already flawless makeup up, applying her lipgloss again. “so how was it?” she nonchalantly says.

my brows furrow as i coat my hands with soap. “what do you mean?”

“the orgasm. don’t act like jack’s hands weren’t just up your dress. as soon as i walked to your table i saw it.” i freeze, my hands standing still underneath the warm flowing water. my heart spreads up, my breath deep. “girl you don’t have to act embarrassed. i’ve had my fair share of public fingerings.”

all i do is let out a loud laugh. i don’t know why i felt embarrassed that envy noticed. after all, i did go right to her house after the first time me and jack had sex. she knows every detail of our first night together, and i know a bunch of her experiences.

“it was good, i’m not going to lie.” i say while letting out giggles, my shoulders shaking with my deep chest laugh. she finishes touching up her lips, smiling at me.

“well, i’m at least glad it was good. but for next time would you mind waiting till you get home, of at least give me a warning.” she grabs the door handle, exiting the bathroom on the way back to our table.

“noted.”

#jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey player x reader #puck-bunnies

[honeykaes]

—𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

⟡ invocation tcg strip competition feat. kaeya, cyno, ayato, itto

⟡ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

⟡ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, fingering (kaeya + ayato), blowjob (cyno), masturbation (ayato), thigh-fucking (ayato), cunniligus (itto), piercings (itto), monsterfucking adjacent (itto), description of “pretty” and “beautiful”, unedited

Kaeya has been a fan of Genius Invocation TCG for a while now. Wanting to add a bit of spice to the game, he asked if you wanted to play a strip version of it. As his rules went, everytime your card got hit, you had to take an article of clothing off. You weren’t expecting him to utilize so much strategy—a smirk curving on his face as he watched you remove one article of clothing after the other as he only managed to have his shirt off. 

As he placed his TCG card of himself down, utilizing his skill—you clicked your tongue in annoyance as he hit two of your cards with his ice attack as they were fully defeated from the Melt reaction. Kaeya grinned tapping his finger on your thighs. He knew you had two options at this point: you could either take your undershirt off or your underwear. With a sigh as you shakily move to peel your undershirt off of you, revealing your chest, Kaeya hummed, pressing his hands to your thighs.

You gasped feeling his chilled hands nip at the plushes of your thighs, murmuring there was a better option than that. Your moving shivered feeling his fingers creeped up to your clothed cunt, swiping a finger up and down your covered slit. A shaky breath escaped you when he pressed the pad of his thumb on your clit while Kaeya narrowed his eyes at the darkening fabric beginning to get coated with your arousal. 

Humming in amusement, Kaeya curled his fingers on the band of the underwear guiding the fabric slowly down your legs, licking his lips admiring your entrance, glistening in your slick that was finally fully revealed to him. His fingers swiped up and down your slit, gently brushing the bundle of nerves every so often. Hearing you trying to stifle your moans, Kaeya chuckled, finally dipping two of his fingers inside of you.

He lazily pumped them, curling his digits so they would brush up and massage your velvety walls. You threw your head back, cunt fluttered down at his fingers, as Kaeya soon slid the fingers out, slapping your clit as your whole body shook.

“How long are you going to make me wait, lovely? It’s your turn after all,” he cooed, letting his fingers continue to thrust inside of you—thumb pressing tight circles on your clit. You could barely focus your shaky hands, throwing the dice down as you whined once more, clamping tightly against him.

“Aw come on now. It’s your chance to turn the tides. Everyone loves an underdog. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me now, hm?~”

Cyno knew how eager you were to finally win against him. You were always trying to use tactics and schemes to finally beat down the champion. Cyno could only sigh with a small smile as you challenged him to a game once more, but with a twist. This game would involve the parties stripping one piece of clothing every time they got damaged. You knew he had a soft spot for your physical form, the stares and hands that would often linger on your body when he got a glimpse of your nude form—this could be the thing that finally shifts the tides!

Or so you thought.

Your eyes would go agape as Cyno defeated one of your cards with his signature. You could only look back up to him, scarlet eyes solely darkened and eating up every part of your skin now revealed to him. Out of all your sessions and duels, this was the most determined you have ever seen him. 

“And I believe this is game set, beloved.”

As your last character falls, you take a shaky breath. Your hands leave their cross position on your chest that were covering your now hardening nipples as you finally slipped your underwear down—throwing them across the room. Cyno tongue dipped out,coating his dry lips basking in your flustered nude form. He got up from his position walking in front of you before he gently grabbed your chin, leaning up at him.

“Shouldn’t the victor relish in the spoils of war?”

Your eyes snapped down noticing the prominent bulge pressing against Cyno’s pants. Your face feels hot as Cyno lets go of your chin, observing as you shimmied his pants down—cock snapping to attention. His cock was curved, precum drooling out of his brown tip as it shuttered as you gently took a hold of it. You pumped it a couple times, letting his arousal coat on the rest of his length hearing him suck a sharp breath in.

You opened your mouth widely, sliding his cock inside of your mouth as one hand remained on his hip and the other tightly clasped on the base of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You cracked your hand, pumping him as you sucked—swirling your tongue around his slit as his hand rested gently on your head letting out soft grunts.

As the flat of your tongue grazed along a vein, you felt him twitch in your mouth as he soon groaned loudly—cum soon spurting out of him.

“Don’t swallow yet. Just hold every drop in your mouth,” he grunted, watching you press your thighs together to try to appease your own lust. As he leaned away with a pop, he gently grabbed your chin once more beckoning you to open your mouth showing off the globs of his cum resting on your tongue.

“Swallow every bit of it and I might consider giving you a token of my appreciation for challenging me to such an interesting game.”

The young head of the Kamisato always seemed to be scheming in that head of his. He hated to admit it, but he found himself being very greedy when it came to you—wishing nothing more than to have your lips on top of his as his hands wandered across your beautiful figure. His eyes observed the papers you were tiresomely working on. The two of you had been slaving away trying to prepare for the upcoming Genius Invocation TCG International Competition.

As Ayato placed his quill down, closing the report he was working on—he grabbed your attention, asking if you’d like to indulge him in a bit of TCG. As you agree, reaching out for your own deck he asked if you’d like to spice it up—when a card received damage, the person had to disrobe an article of clothing. 

Ayato had no intention of winning this battle; however, he’d win the war.

He basked in your attention and your trembling lips as he bit down on his gloves, pulling it with ease with his teeth. Soon his hoari fell down with it. As his sister’s card fell, Ayato let out a chuckle undoing his obi, covering most of his glowing pale skin. He could see how flustered you were, your moves getting less focused making it harder for him to not seem as careless with his moves that would cause suspicion. 

“Seems it’s not my day, is it?” he hummed, nonchalantly. 

His Thoma card fell next, leaving his ki-nagashi to pool on the tatami mats. He was only in his tight briefs, your eyes focused on the hard erection pressed firmly against the thin fabric. You visibly gulped trying to focus on defeating his final card, but paused noticing Ayato cupping his clothed hardened cock. A groan escaped his lips, letting his fingers squeeze at the mound.

“My love, pay attention. You have one more move before you defeat me,” he cooed at you. You took a deep breath activating your charged attack that would end the game, but your gaze remained on Ayato’s lower half—hand snaked underneath his briefs to pump his cock. Another breathy moan escaped from him as his final card, himself, fell down. 

Drifting his half-lidded eyes to you, he dug his bottom lip against his teeth, soon freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. His member slapped against his chiseled abdomen, quivering, longing for touch once more. 

“It seems I have lost this round. You think you can pity a poor man,” he whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. His hands made their way to your body, pressing down as it glided itself throughout your form. He briefly brushed across your chest as pleasure shivered across your form.

He grasped onto your yukata, exposing your beautiful legs to him. With a click of his tongue, he grazed his cock by your soft thighs letting out another groan in your ear, before pushing it between the plush pair.

“I don’t think a loser like me deserves your pretty pussy right now,” he cooed in your ear, lifting his hand up to slide down your clothed slit. He easily swiped the fabric back letting his fingers swirl themselves on your throbbing clit.

“...But that doesn’t mean I can’t use these beautiful thighs then, huh?” he murmured. Soon thrusted himself between your thighs, languishing in the way your slick was now  coating his fingers as he played with your clit. Precum smeared across your skin, causing a lewd sound to echo out every time Ayato thrusted.

Your body shivered at the pressure and attention he was giving too your clit, melting in his touch. With a choked grunt of your name, Ayato’s hips stuttered—ropes of cum spurting out as some managed to stain themselves on your thighs. With a content sigh, his fingers plunging inside of you went faster, thumb flicking on your clit much faster as you quickly came undone as well.

Watching you try to catch your breath, he pressed his lips against your neck—nudging his softening cock against your leg.

“If you’re tired we can stop here…but something tells me you're desperate to have something other than my fingers to go inside of you, heh.”

A challenge?! You’re asking Itto for a Genius TCG Challenge?! Don’t you know who you were asking, your boyfriend, the one-and-oni Itto and the master of these cards?! Itto could only cackle as he flashed you a confident smile, he’s totally down to take you down. You could only chuckle yourself when you asked if the two of you could play the strip version instead. A red bloomed on Itto’s cheeks as he tried to fight the grin on his face to not seem as eager.

“Yeahh? S-Strip TCG?! You’re gonna be nude in no time, baby!”

As you two began gearing up, getting your decks in order—his eyes lit up in determination. He wanted to ogle your form again, his cock was twitching at the very thought of seeing you nude again.

You easily began to hit his characters causing severe damage as Itto began to scowl and pout. With a loud groan he ripped off his gloved and spiked bracelets only to sputter in shock as his best buddies card fell—his belt, jacket and shin guards going down with it. 

“You’re cheating! You must be! You defeated three of my cards! I’m in my boxers and you still have your chest covered and pants on!” he whined in childish frustration. You could only laugh as you finally claimed victory with his final card being defeated. 

Itto pouted and quickly scrambled out of his boxers and crossed his arms only for you to gawk at his form. His cock was hardened, pulsating with its many inhume ridges and Prince Albert piercing decorated around it. His cheeks reddened again as he drifted his eyes away from yours in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I got…overly excited since I figured if I won, like I was suppose’ to, I’d want to see how much you could fit me in that mouth of yours…” he sighed. “But since I lost because you cheated!...It doesn’t seem fitting anymore…”

Your body shivered as you felt his large palm press down on your closed legs widening them up. Itto’s eyes gazed down at the thin undershirt covering up your chest—pebbled nipples poking from the thin fabric. Itto groaned once more, feeling his cock twitch again.

“Just you wait! When I win next time, I might just have to test out every part of your body with my cock,” he muttered. Itto grabbed onto the helm of your pants, quickly taking them down along with your underwear. Watching your entrance tighten and coil against nothing made the oni’s mouth water. He leaned his face in, breath hot against your cunt causing you to shiver.

Itto pressed the flat of his tongue along your clit, choking back the moan as he tasted your slick. Your body shivered, feeling the difference of temperature between Itto’s hot tongue and the coldness of his piercing. He swirled the muscle along the sides of your clit, feeling your legs on either side of him shiver in delight.

He curled his tongue, letting it rapidly flick against the bundle of nerves. Your hands shot to his hair, moan ripping from your lips as he continued to abuse your clit. As you felt yourself getting closer to your high, Itto shifted causing you to whine slightly,fat tongue prodded at your entrance before sliding in. The vibrations from his humming seemed to add to the different temperatures and speeds Itto was using to thrust inside of you, as your legs soon began to cave on his head.

Itto slid his tongue out once more before going back to your clit, sucking tightly at the mound before leaning back and flicking it rapidly with his tongue. He would continue switching back and forth between them, nails digging into the plush of your thighs. He shifted his lips trying to quell the throbbing pain of his cock desperate to be inside of you.

As he went back— sharp teeth grazing your clit as he sucked hard once more—your hips bucked and back arched, cunt spasming as you finally reached your high. Itto struggled to hold you down, caught off guard by your intense organism still lapping at your clit burning from overstimulation. You slowly came back down, a layer of sweat on your body trying to catch your bearing, Itto leaned up from your drooling, messy cunt.

The bottom half of his face was coated in your juices, a cocky smirk on his face as swiped his tongue to play with his piercing.

“‘Nother round? Loser has to give head!”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #cyno x reader #cyno smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #itto x reader #itto smut

[timedhoney]

MDNI.

His parents are in the next room over, you think tiredly. You’ll have to be quiet.

The warming yellow glow of the bedside lamp soothes the gentle planes of haechan’s face. He seems to glow from within anyway, soft light or no. The endearment in his eyes as he looks at how your hair is splayed across his pillow. Your heartbeat thumping as though time has been honeyed. You reach up for an open mouthed kiss, pulling his lower lip into your mouth so you can taste his sound of choked pleasure. You unhurriedly pull it further into your mouth in an attempt to bring him closer.

He’s happy to visit home, you can tell. He sheds a persona here, revealing the soft side of him you’ve always adored. Happy to come visit and announce your engagement. Happy to show you off.

The room is hot, though not stuffy. It’s relaxing, like the sensation of his hips pinning yours to the bed. The warmth of his legs seeping into the white sheets around you. The promise of something firm in his boxers that you’re very eager to explore.

You offer your neck to his searching mouth, a moan gently rising from you as he finds his favorite spot at the junction of the shoulder. Smiling lazily, you wrap your legs around him further as you passively notice the moon hanging in his window. The summer night breeze is warm enough that you get to appreciate how it compliments his gauzy curtains rippling with the wind’s soft breath.

You’re brought back into proper focus as he smoothly glides a hand beneath your shirt, fingers splayed wide across your stomach as he moves up. You dreamily offer up the sound of his name he slides further up, up, up under your soft tshirt and finally teasingly pinches at the soft underside of your tits.

You look at him scoldingly but he just laughs, and those mischievous eyes dance underneath the hem of your shirtas he nips at the site in apology. Pulling at his hair seems a fitting punishment. His breathy moan only confirms this.

His hands now wander to your waistband, pulling his old boxers smoothly down your legs as he dramatically throws the duvet back. Tongue warm and wet as he licks you in a way that takes everything away from you. Hands still in his hair as you urge him to suck on your clit.

He doesn't need any urging. A hint of teasing teeth before he has you writhing and biting your lip to keep quiet. You like it best when you can feel his hint of a smile as he buries his face further.

He brings you to a gentle orgasm, rolling rhythmically not unlike the ocean's tides, you muse. He has the effect of making you think these types of sugary thoughts. Only then does he rise back up to kiss you, lips holding that beautiful sheen that makes your kiss that much dirtier.

The first glide of him into you is something you frequently daydream of. Haechan's appreciative whine and whisper of "so fucking good" tells you he feels the same way. One hand holding onto his bed frame in desperate hopes it doesn't squeak. His hair curls around his neck in sweaty effort and you laugh at how this makes you wetter.

Eventually he crushes you in an embrace, hips rutting in the delicious way that tells you he's close. This is always your favorite part, and you close your eyes to catalogue the sensation. The head of his dick catching you in just the right way. How his back muscles ripple against your fingers, skin tan and smooth. The way his thrusts turn to desperate scoops, like a teenage boy humping against your leg. How his voice cracks when he says he's close. How could you say no when he asks, "inside?" You wouldn't want to make a mess in his parents home, after all. How he shudders as he comes in you as deeply as he can. How he uses his fingers to scoop his cum out of you, spreading it glistening over your clit as he makes quick work of a second orgasm for you.

You tuck him in as you head to the bathroom to pee, pressing your lips to his forehead.

By the time you return his breathing is already deep and regular. You toss your leg over his hip as you slide back into bed and let the way his chest rises and falls take you to your dreams.

#haechan x reader #nct x reader #haechan smut #127 smut #nct dream x reader #haechan x you