#sincere heart as warm as fire

[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

add yourself to my taglist !!

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

#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

[aurorawritestoescape]

18+ minors dni smut

*****

“Fuck, Joel!”

“Stay!”

“What do you mean ‘stay’?! I’m not a fucking dog! I wanna move on you.”

You’re straddling Joel’s hips as his cock is buried deep inside your burning core. You’re practically vibrating with arousal but for some unknown reason he decided to torture you, making you cockwarm his stiff length. His hands are keeping you still, his grip is unyielding and determined.

“Joel…” you change your strategy hastily, your pleading eyes almost on the verge of tears, though just a second ago they were burning with fiery rage. “I wanna make you feel good, please.”

Joel’s lips twitch, nostrils flare. The fucker reads you like an open book, you can’t fool this man.

“Listen, just give it a chance, ok? Sit still and feel me. Just for a minute.”

“But whyyyy…” you keep whining, scratching his hands with your nails.

“I wanna enjoy you like this. Let me enjoy you.”

His tone is sincere, voice soft.

You sigh and give up.

“Fine.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do so but before rolling them as hard as you can.

You immediately open one to sneak a look at him.

“Close them, please.”

You smile at the way he talks to you. He’s so gentle, so soft with you. Always with you. Only with you. You see the darkness behind your eyelids and feel all warm inside. Love. You feel love. Deep inside your core, in your gut, behind your rib cage, in your soul, heart, head. Everywhere.

Then he growls. The warmth turns into burning fire. His fingers are digging into your thighs, his breath is quickening. He’s inside you, throbbing, massaging your walls as he pulsates deep in your pussy. A moan escapes your lips.

You can hear him smirk.

“Feel it?”

You nod not realizing he can’t see you. His eyes are shut as well as yours.

“I always wanted to feel you like this. Just nesting my cock inside you. Savor you squeezing me like this. Your pussy… fuck, sweetheart, wish I could stay like this forever.”

“Can I lie down on you?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you now.

He hums and, not opening your eyes, you slowly lower your torso into his embrace.

His big arms envelop you, his chest rising and falling is rocking you like a giant wave.

You feel all of him now, so big and strong, but soft and loving. Yours.

You focus on his breath, then on his cock as it’s thumping like a second heartbeat inside you.

You breathe out a soft moan as your core tightens, more and more with every throb. Boom - boom - boom -

“Joel,” you moan as you come undone, spasming around his cock, your pussy fluttering over every inch of his thick length and he explodes together with you, spurting his warm seed deep into your core.

You both are panting heavily descending from your highs and he kisses the top of your head and whispers,

“Told ya.”

*****

Thank you for reading <3

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader

[foxy-eva]

Elixir

Summary: Studies suggest that orgasms can help relieve pain. Reader tests that theory when Spencer complains about a headache.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) mentions headaches and migraines, heavy kissing, a hint at somnophilia, handjob, thigh riding/grinding, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

It had been a week since you’d kissed your boyfriend. An entire week of late-night phone calls, an uncountable amount of whispering, ‘I miss you’ and even more time spent yearning for him. With every step towards your apartment door your excitement grew, you couldn't wait to finally put your mouth on those beautiful lips again. Once you unlocked the door you were practically beaming with anticipation.

However, instead of being greeted with a similar amount of eagerness, Spencer only managed to whisper a timid, “Hi love.”

Your demeanor changed instantly when you found him lying on the couch, his head thrown back against the backrest. With quiet steps you came closer, worried that his migraines might have returned. 

“What's wrong?” You asked as you sat down beside him. 

“Just a tension headache.” 

Leaning down, you placed an innocent kiss on his cheek before breathing, “Sure it’s not a migraine?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I think I’m just overworked,” he sincerely told you. 

You lay down beside him and curled into his side. With your arm wrapped around his body you tried to get closer to him. 

“What can I do to make it better?”

Spencer turned his head and placed a soft kiss into your hair before mumbling, “Just having you close to me already helps.”

As you breathed in his intoxicating scent you tried to tame the burning fire inside you. That was until you remembered something. A smirk formed on your face when you decided to make a suggestion. 

You sat up to find his eyes before you said, “I read a study once that orgasms help with headaches. Maybe we should test that theory. You know… for science.”

The smile that formed on his face warmed your heart. It seemed like he thought about it for a moment but then admitted, “I’m sorry but I think I’m too exhausted to do anything.”

“That's okay,” you chirped. “I don't mind doing all the work. You can just sit back and look pretty.” 

Your boyfriend seemed intrigued but not yet convinced. “You really don’t have to.”

“I love taking care of you, Spencer,” you reassured him. 

He nodded, “Okay.”

Without any restraint he moved with you as you began undressing him. You rid him of every layer of fabric until he lay completely bare on the couch. Unabashedly you let your eyes roam over his body, taking in the beauty in front of you. 

“You’re so pretty,” you mumbled while reaching out your hand to touch the softness of his tummy. 

He gasped when your fingertips began dancing along the trail of hair underneath his navel. Spencer’s hand found the hem of your shirt, tugging on it to signal you that he wanted to see everything your body had to offer. 

Slowly you began shedding your own clothes, revealing your skin to him while noticing how he seemed to get more and more excited. Your lips captured his in a kiss that quickly turned passionate while one of your hands snuck down his body.

He was already half-hard when your fingers began brushing over velvety skin. In a matter of just a few moments he got so aroused that his erection felt hot and heavy against your palm. 

You broke the kiss to tease him, “See, I knew you wouldn't be too tired for that.”

Spencer nonchalantly countered, “I’m pretty sure that would still work even if I was asleep.”

“Yeah?” You purred while moving your hand up and down his length. “Maybe I should test that theory too, sometime?” 

Instead of answering you, a loud groan fell from your boyfriend’s lips. 

Between kisses you mumbled against his lips, “Is that something you would like, my sweet boy?”

“Fuck…” He whined when your thumb brushed over his sensitive tip. “Yes!” 

His response let your heart skip a beat but you decided to bring it up another time. Right now you had more important things to focus on. You kissed him again, your tongue brushing against his lips until he granted you entrance. 

Your kiss grew more urgent with every second passing and you became desperate to feel more of him. Quickly you shifted your position until you were hovering over him, your hands on his shoulders and one of his thighs between your legs. 

Without breaking the kiss you began grinding your core against his leg, creating some much needed friction. Spencer's hands flew to your hips, burying his fingertips into your supple flesh and moving with you. 

The tension inside you only grew as you moved against his thigh, certain that your honeyed wetness was spread all over his skin by now. His muscles tensed underneath you and by the way he sighed into your mouth you knew how much he enjoyed being used like that. 

Your own sounds of pleasure finally broke the kiss and Spencer seized the moment to stare down at your bare form. 

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured. “You look like a goddess.”

With a gentle touch on his chin you tilted his head until he found your eyes again. His cheeks were tinted in a rosy shade and the black of his pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises almost entirely. His lips were parted, heavy breaths escaping his throat as he looked up at you. 

“I want you inside me,” you purred with a smirk painted over your face.

With a nod he signaled his approval and moved with you until you were hovering over his cock. You reached down to guide him to your waiting heat, letting his leaking tip glide through your glistening folds to cover him with your arousal. 

“Please,” Spencer whimpered, already impatient to finally feel you wrapped around him. 

Tonight you weren’t in a teasing mood so you gave into his plea and slowly sank down on him. The way he stretched you open inch by inch completely clouded your mind. When he was fully inside you, you closed your eyes and took a moment to feel him throbbing deep within your body. 

A sudden thrust let your eyes shoot open and a gasp escape your mouth. Spencer's hands gripped your hips so hard you were sure you’d find his fingertips imprinted in your skin in the morning. Despite your surprised reaction he kept moving, thrusting his hips upwards, desperate to feel more of you, to feel all of you.

With your hands on his shoulders you tried to still his eagerness with no success. 

“Spencer,” you snickered. “Slow down.”

It seemed like he had long forgotten your promise to do all the work and any sign of a headache had already vanished. His big puppy eyes found yours, almost looking innocent. 

“What?” He chuckled as he slowed down his movements. “You usually like that.”

“I do,” you cooed. “But today I’m in charge, so lean back and relax.”

Spencer did as he was told. You took your time with him, relishing the sensation of being one with him. Whenever you felt him inside you, you couldn't shake the thought that your body was made only for him. No man before him could ever bring you that much pleasure. 

With your hips carefully grinding against his, you set a new, almost torturously slow pace. Leaning down, you placed your lips on his, your kiss only interrupted by sighs and moans that needed to escape. Tilting your hips, you slightly changed the angle to make your motions even more enjoyable. The pressure inside you grew, aware that you wouldn't be able to last much longer.

Spencer's hands were still on your hips but they were less demanding, letting you be in control and moving with you however you desired to. Only when your pace quickened did he dare to let one of his hands move to where your bodies were connected. 

With skilled motions he pressed his thumb against your most sensitive spot, smirking against your lips when it became obvious how much you craved to find relief. When your entire body shook and your walls tightened around his hardness, it became almost impossible to keep moving. 

Spencer took over, thrusting up into you until you finally fell over the edge with a loud moan. When he felt you pulsing around him, he let go himself, entering a stage of pure bliss together with you. 

You moved with one another to prolong the euphoria, each throbbing of his cock answered with you convulsing around him until there was nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms, his fingertips gently dancing over your back as you tried to even out your breathing. 

With your bodies pressed together you could feel the erratic beating of his heart against his ribs, almost as if it was trying to get in contact with its similarly fast moving counterpart inside your chest. 

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and sat up. When you found his eyes, you breathed, “I love you more.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled. “That's not possible. 

Your fingertips brushed over his forehead when you asked, “Are you feeling better?” 

“Yeah I do, actually.” 

“That's good to hear,” you said before you started to giggle. “We proved that theory! Maybe you should write a paper about the healing powers of my pu–, ” Spencer was quick to interrupt you with a kiss before any more crudity could leave your mouth. 

“I’d rather not,” he laughed. “I’m sure other people would want a taste of you, too. But you're mine.”

“Your own personal elixir,” you agreed. 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion Being Touch Starved•°

The dastardly rogue would scarcely ever admit it- not in a thousand years.

But the sensation of your touch sends a thrill through his heart so loud, so potent, that sometimes he swears it still beats.

Beats only for you.

Sure by the light of day Astarion has a devil may care attitude and more sass than anyone really ought to.

And though you've both voiced your sincere affections to each other, he is never shy to continue with his playful flirtations towards you.

But that does not mean he views your relationship as a trifle. As something to play at.

You are the first person he's cared for in hundreds of years. The first he's opened himself up to. The first to show him that he can be free.

And with that long sought after freedom he wishes to spend it with you. For as long as you'll allow him the gift of your presence.

But though Astarion is unshackled now, the hauntings of Cazador never leave his mind. Not entirely.

On more times than he'd like to acknowledge, he has awoken from horrid nightmares of his past enslavement.

Cursing himself for even bothering to close his eyes in the first place considering he doesn't actually need to sleep.

But then there you are, right beside him.

Warm and vulnerable. Slumbering soundly and oh, gods, does he love your warmth.

The chilled Vampire would bathe in the heated feel of your skin if he could and often while you're tucked in the crook of his arm, dreaming away, he takes small liberties.

Letting just how starved he is of gentleness be shown.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing the column of your throat, breathing in your scent.

Admiring your beauty. Committing each freckle, scar and feature to memory.

Dining on the feel of your form close to his and relishing in the company of one who truly, faithfully loves him. Just as he is.

So reverential of your body. Savoring the perfume of your blood, the thump of your heartbeat. Your every breath a hymn to his ears.

Of course you know how starved Astarion is. You can read him like a book.

But his yearning for tenderness is an unspoken truth between you two.

So you attend to it in your own subtle way.

Holding hands with him while around camp. Sitting next to him beside the fire. Your thighs touching. Placing your hand between his shoulder blades while walking.

Your gaze never straying from his for too long. Your medicinal touch the one to mend his wounds after a rough fight.

He thinks of you as a goddess. Your warmth a healing balm and he thanks his lucky stars everyday he met you.

The feel of you beside him is enough to make him enjoy living again.

Astarion's love for you eternal and ever growing.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x reader #astarion imagines #astarion imagine #astarion headcanons #astarion headcanon #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 imagine #baldur's gate 3 headcanon #bg3 x reader #bg3 fic

[neckromantics]

Astarion sits so close to you by the campfire that you knock knees.

Your shoulders brush as you shift your weight in an attempt to get more comfortable on the log you've all been using as a makeshift bench, and you wonder if his sensitive ears pick up the sound of your heart as it races in your chest.

You just can't handle it.

How when he laughs at your jokes it's a full-bodied reaction. His head tilted back, silver curls bouncing along with the shake of his shoulders. You don't think it's exactly voluntary when he reaches out in your direction, cool fingers curling around your forearm like he'll fall over if he doesn't have something to cling to.

All you can focus on for a moment is how how pretty his teeth are– how cute it is that his fang catches his bottom lip and is still visible even once he's closed his mouth.

There's no way whatever you just said is that funny, but his grin isn't even a little dishonest. It's actually so sincere that you can't help but grin back at him. Makes you want to crack another, equally as stupid joke just to see it again once it's gone.

Lovesick fools, the both of you.

He'll somehow scoot even closer if someone decides to sit by his other side. Will loop your arms together and turn towards you, hip against yours, chin resting lightly on the hand he now has on your shoulder. His eyelashes flutter, and your heart follows suit.

You're curled into one another this way, in your own little bubble as he murmurs into your ear and nods along to whatever you say in response. His eyes are so pretty. Carmine in color with pupils so big they're practically glittering from the light of the fire. Wide and soft. Puppyish.

It isn't long before someone makes a comment about it. Be it Lae'zel and her rather interesting input about how you can't keep off of eachother for a second, or just Karlach telling the two of you to get a room. Occasionally, Gale will cough in a very pointed way.

To your dismay, Astarion's gaze loses a little of that softness. You catch the briefest flash of something that resembles annoyance before his lids go heavy again. His eyes crease the slightest bit around the edges before they flick towards your companions– back to you.

If he's feeling cheeky (and he almost always is), he'll put on a show. Will make a comment about how he can't blame them for being jealous, but they don't always have to be so loud about it. Or will throw his head back to moan theatrically about how comfortable and warm you are. Slings one of his legs over your own, the back of his knee hooked by yours as he drapes himself across you all dramatic. Basically, will just be half in your lap for the rest of the evening just to be a nuisance.

Other times, he's just not in the mood. His nose will wrinkle, a crease forming between his brows that you just have to thumb away. He's quiet (almost nervous? shy?) when he asks you if you'd like to spend some time with him in a more private setting. To which you've obviously always responded to with a nod so enthusiastic that he's smiling in that special way again.

You bid your companions goodnight before you're up, arms still looped tightly as you wander towards the direction of his tent. You say something funny, too quiet for anyone else to hear, and his joyful laugh trails off with the sound of your shared footsteps.

"Lovesick fools," Karlach says as she watches the two of you, amusement all in her tone. "The both of them. "

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons #hello babes

[ebullientheart]

sleep mad. spencer reid x reader

content — hurt comfort. bau!reader. mention of bau case. short fic.

you don’t let spencer leave your hotel room after a fight.

it was a perfectly normal reaction, to storm out for fresh air after a tense argument. spencer didn’t expect you to literally scream ‘no!’ from behind him. he turned on his heel so fast, recognising the fear in your voice from case victims, preparing himself to see you being attacked. he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of tears, and no criminal presence.

when the two of you disagreed, it was almost always with quiet voices and levelled frustration. this time was no different. neither of you had yelled, cursed, or become enraged. it was irritation and exhaustion at the root of it, and it wasn’t worth the look on your face now. his own eyes shot wide in concern, spencer saw how you visibly trembled in the doorway, despite the evening being uncharacteristically warm, humid even. in the dingy light from the hotel hallway, he could hardly make out the contours of your face, but he could imagine what it must have looked like. why had you shouted?

you swiped messily at the damp rivets dug into your cheeks from the sudden fit of crying, effectively willing yourself to stop as you folded your arms defensively. your voice was wavering but firm as you said, “no. if you want space, i’ll go sit on the fire escape, but you can’t… you can’t leave this late spence.”

he raised a brow at you. usually, he disliked being told what to do, but that clearly wasn’t your intention here. spencer could clearly see the terror on your face, but he couldn’t decipher what you were so afraid of. so, forgetting the rule to not profile each other, he asked. you reached forward and tugged him into the room by his forearm, ever gentle, before spinning away to leave him be. but he didn’t want space anymore, he wanted answers.

“what’s going on?”

knowing you could never successfully lie to spencer, you sighed and dug your hands into your pockets. you felt guilty for not allowing him what he’d needed to cool off, but you couldn’t let him leave like that while working this case. each of the three victims left behind a brokenhearted spouse, each of which you’d been interviewing since eight that morning. the last was the worst, breaking down fully in jj’s arms, wracked with uncontrollable sobbing as they explained the last interaction they’d shared was a verbally vicious fight. their last words were venomous, and no peace was made.

“tell me.” spencer’s demand was soft. he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and your heart twisted as the new angle enunciated the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. you were sure you sported a matching pair.

you tried your best not to shut down, to communicate, “we… we see so many grievers. how many tell us that their last conversations were full of anger? they… can’t ever accept what happened, move on, because they never go to say ‘i love you’ that last time. they think the other died hating them. if we’re apart, and something happens, and our last words were just mean…”

he listened as you struggled through your explanation, but when you finally trailed off and dropped eye contact, he stood slowly. you heard him pad across the cheap carpet to get close enough to find the palm of your hand, and you let him take it in his own. a light rain had begun to batter the small window.

“you’re right,” spencer whispered, something you rarely hear when dating a genius, “you’re right. our lives are dangerous. but i don’t want us to fight anyway. i’m sorry.”

you sniffed and tried to not think about how pathetic you sounded when you repeated his final sentence back to him, equally as sincere.

spencer thumbed lightly at the dip between your eye and cheekbone, “i love you. now, and when we fight. i- i always love you.”

again, you echoed his sentiment, accompanying it with the sweetest kiss you could press to his jaw. your fingers curled into his hair, carefully undoing a tangle, and simultaneously undoing every knot of tense muscle in his body.

most couples just worried about going to sleep mad. you weren’t sure what it said that your worries centred around one of you being brutally murdered before making up, but you supposed that unique thought process just came with the territory. there was no blanket pulled over your eyes, the world wasn’t hiding it’s most sinister corners from you. or if it was, you sought them out. but those fears that usually haunted you just melted away when you held spencer. you were just like most couples.

two young adults, completely in love, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of your breaths in a crappy hotel, blissfully ignorant to the residents of the rooms either side of you grumbling about being awoken by your hallway confrontation.

a mess of entwined limbs, you eventually made it to bed, to sleep. one of you, or maybe both, uttered an “i love you” every few minutes. an enforced reminder to linger in your half-asleep state, lulling your minds to rest.

sleep came easy, for once.

#🤍ebullientheart #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #bau!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #fluff #spencer reid fluff #angst #spencer reid angst

[zapreportsblog]

Eye Contact

➥ summary: earth 42!miles just wants to know why his girl avoids eye contact with him

➥ a/n: this one shot is based off of @the-dumpster-fire-of-life post “eye contact”

➥ fluffy one shot

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room as Miles and his girlfriend (Y/n) settled into a comfortable conversation. Their faces were illuminated by a soft radiance, but Miles couldn't help but notice a subtle shift in (Y/n)'s demeanor. She seemed hesitant, avoiding his gaze as if there were unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

Concern etched into his features, Miles gently reached out and took (Y/n)'s hand, his touch reassuring. "Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine care.

(Y/n)'s eyes flickered briefly to meet his before diverting to the floor, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. She bit her lip, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and discomfort.

"I... I'm sorry, Miles," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just find it hard to look you in the eye sometimes."

Surprised, Miles squeezed her hand gently. "You don't have to apologize, (Y/n). You can tell me anything. I'm here for you."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, summoning her courage. "It's not that I don't trust you or anything like that," she explained, her words hesitant but genuine. "It's just... sometimes, when I look into your eyes, it's like you can see right through me. It's overwhelming."

Miles listened intently, his gaze fixed on (Y/n) with an understanding that surpassed words. He knew the weight of vulnerability, the depth of emotions that could arise from the connection between two souls. He gently brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, silently encouraging her to continue.

(Y/n) continued, her voice growing stronger as she found her rhythm. "When I look into your eyes, it's like I'm laid bare. Every fear, every insecurity, they all feel magnified. I'm afraid you'll see me differently, that you'll realize I'm not as put together as I appear."

Miles's heart ached at (Y/n)'s confession. He had always admired her strength, her unwavering determination. Yet, he understood that beneath her resilient exterior lay a tender heart, susceptible to its own doubts and fears.

He tilted her chin gently, coaxing her to meet his gaze. "Listen, (Y/n)," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "When I look into your eyes, I see a beautiful soul, a person filled with passion, kindness, and so much strength. I see the love and care you pour into everything you do. Your vulnerabilities only make you more human, and they don't diminish the amazing person you are."

(Y/n)'s eyes met his, and for a moment, she saw the sincerity and love reflected in his gaze. It was a mirror that didn't judge or criticize, but rather embraced and cherished.

"I've had my own moments of doubt and vulnerability, (Y/n)," Miles continued, his voice gentle but resolute. "But being with you has taught me that we all have our struggles, and it's okay to let our guards down sometimes. In fact, it's in those vulnerable moments that we truly connect and find strength in each other."

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes as she absorbed his words, feeling the weight of her insecurities begin to lift. She squeezed his hand, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and relief. "Thank you, Miles. Thank you for seeing me, for accepting me, vulnerabilities and all."

The room filled with a gentle silence as (Y/n) finished pouring out her heart to Miles, explaining the struggle she had with making eye contact. Vulnerability lingered in the air, but as (Y/n) looked into Miles' eyes, she noticed a mischievous glimmer dancing within them. She wondered what playful comment he had up his sleeve.

With a teasing smile playing on his lips, Miles leaned in closer, his voice filled with playful banter. "You know, I thought you didn't make eye contact with me because I'm too hot," he said, his tone infused with playful confidence.

(Y/n) blinked, caught off guard by Miles' unexpected remark. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked at him blankly, her expression devoid of amusement. The room fell into an expectant silence.

"That's another reason why I don't," she responded matter-of-factly, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

Miles' jaw dropped, his confident façade crumbling in an instant. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as he attempted to stammer out a coherent response. "You... you can't just say things like that, mami," he managed to utter, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

(Y/n) couldn't contain her laughter, a sound that filled the room with its infectious joy. She leaned back, clutching her stomach, the honesty and bluntness of her response sinking in. The sight of Miles, flustered and covering his face, only made her laugh harder.

Seeing her laughter, Miles couldn't help but join in, his own embarrassment melting away in the warmth of the moment. He peeked through his fingers, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of affection and playfulness. "You always know how to keep me on my toes, (Y/n)."

Their laughter subsided, leaving behind a comforting silence, a shared understanding between them. It was in these lighthearted moments, where vulnerabilities were exposed and teased, that their bond grew stronger. They had the ability to find humor even in their own flustered states, a testament to the depth of their connection.

As they sat there, their eyes locked, the room brimming with unspoken affection, Miles reached out and gently brushed his fingers against (Y/n)'s cheek, his touch tender and loving. "You know, (Y/n), your straightforwardness is one of the things I love about you.”

“And you’re big ass forehead is one of the reasons why I love you,” she says planting a kiss on his cheek.

“HEY!”

#x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x black reader #earth 42 miles imagine #miles x reader #miles morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse imagine #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist

[startears0153]

♡ Randomly saying ‘I love you’

How they react to you randomly saying those three special words 

ft. Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, and Blade

The two of you were spending some time together in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence while going about your own individual activities.

Looking up from your work, you observe your lover from the distance, watching as they completely engross themselves in task; so much so that they do not even realize your gaze on them.

Suddenly, an idea runs through your head.

“Hey.” You call in an attempt to grab his attention.

“Hm? What is it?” He replies, still not looking at you.  

You pause for a moment, before finally saying; “I love you.”  

Dan Heng 

Upon hearing those three special words spoken from your mouth, Dan Heng freezes almost immediately; the book he was holding in his hands threatening to fall to the cold ground of the archives.

He blinks, once twice, before slowly turning his head, only to find you smiling sweetly at him, looking all innocent as you unabashedly meet his eye. Dan Heng opens his mouth, and then closes it, before finally mustering a quiet, 

“… What?”

“I said,” You repeat, still smiling sweetly at your confused lover. “I love you, Dan Heng.”

Upon hearing those three special words for the second time from your mouth, Dan Heng felt his heart skip a beat as blood rushes to his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, the guard of the Astral Express covers his mouth with his hand in a feeble attempt at hiding his flustered expression. Amused by his reaction, you let out a quiet giggle; something which seemed to agitate your lover even more.

Dan Heng shuts his book close, gets up from his seat and walks towards you. Before you know it, Dan Heng is cupping your cheek, his pair of blue gazing intently into your eyes.

He leans forwards and rests his forehead against yours; his hot breaths against your lips.

“… I love you too, [Name].”

Before you could respond to his words, Dan Heng had already claimed your lips with his; no doubt his attempt at preventing you from seeing the redness of his cheeks.

Though, you couldn’t bring yourself to particularly care when you’re already drowning in his heated kiss.

Gepard 

Severely unprepared to hear those three words spoken from your lips, Gepard splutters incoherent noises and immediately whips his head towards your direction.

Despite already expecting that sort of reaction from your lover, you couldn’t help but snort amusedly at his dumbfounded expression. Gepard, perhaps somehow concluding that you were merely messing with him, clicks his tongue as he averts his reddened face away from you.

“… It’s not nice to tease your lover like that, [Name].” Gepard murmurs, still looking away from you.

“Okay, maybe. But … I meant what I said before, you know?” You take a step closer to him, and reaches to cup his cheek. “I love you, Gepard. I really do.”

At the soft and gentle tone of your voice, at the feeling of your warm hand against his cheek, Gepard finds himself growing weak in his knees as he could no longer keep his gaze away from you.

He turns his head, and felt his heart flutter in his chest at how your smile seemingly brightens the moment your eyes met once more.

Unable to hold back, Gepard circles his arms around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. At this proximity, he knew you would be able to feel the rapid race of his heart, but Gepard did not care.

“I love you, [Name].” He whispers into your ear. “Now and always.”

He kisses your lips, slowly, gently, and tenderly. Again, and again and again.

Jing Yuan 

Though, he was most certain that he heard you correctly, Jing Yuan still turned to study your expression before deciding how to respond to those three special words that escaped your lips like a quiet prayer.

You were gazing tenderly at him, a small yet sincere smile on your lips. It was an expression that threatened to set his heart on fire, that made him feel weak in his knees and reminded him of how he would gladly surrender his everything just to see your smile.

“I love you too, [Name].” Jing Yuan replies, patting his lap while wearing a pleasant smile on his lips. “Come. Join me, my dear.”

Not having any reason to reject him, you walk towards your lover and plop yourself above his lap. Jing Yuan instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, helping you settle comfortably on your new ‘seat.’

Gently pushing away his silver locks, you lean forward and plant a kiss against his forehead.

“I love you, Jing Yuan.” You whisper. “My handsome General.”

“My, my. You sure are affectionate today, my dearest.” Jing Yuan chuckles, leaning closer to your touch. “Is there a special occasion that I’ve forgotten about?”

“No.” You reply. “I just felt like telling you that I love you.”

“I see.” He trails his hand upwards; fingers playfully messing with the locks of your hair. “Then allow me to return the favor.”

The next thing you know, Jing Yuan had already claimed your lips with his in a slow, yet greedy kiss.

Blade 

A moment passes and then another, and now you find yourself in the receiving end of Blade’s usual blank expression; his crimson-colored eyes staring at you with such intensity that would have caused anyone to cower in fear.

But not you, though. You’ve grown too accustomed to your lover’s expressions; you know him too well at this point to associate his intense gaze with anything but an attempt to discern you, to understand you.

Still, considering what led to his intense gaze — you saying those three words oh so randomly — you can’t help but feel flustered at his silence.

“I love you, Blade.” You find yourself repeating. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Blade blinks, once and then twice, and you began chuckling nervously; your face growing dangerously hot.

“Um, well. That’s that. Now, if you’ll excuse me — ah!”

You felt a hand on your wrist, and the next thing you know, you are already wrapped in Blade’s embrace.

One hand behind your head, the other around your waist. Blade’s embrace was both firm and gentle at the same time. He was gentle, as though he was afraid of hurting you.

Somehow, you understood the meaning behind his embrace even without him saying a single word.

“… Its okay. You don’t have to say it back.” You whisper, placing your hand behind his back. “I love you, Blade. Nothing will change that.”

Blade’s hold on you tightens and you swore you felt his hand began to shake. Before you could say anything else, however, you hear him whisper;

“I love you, [Name].”

A surprised gasp escapes your lips and suddenly, you felt Blade’s warm lips against your own.

He kisses you, almost frantically as he attempts to pour all the emotions that he could not express in words in this passionate and heated exchange.

He kisses you, again and again; never wanting to let you go.

A/N: Hehe, this was my first post in tumblr and my first time writing in 2nd pov in a long time. This is a bit different from the things I usually write, but I hope you all enjoyed reading! 

Feel free to like and reblog~! 

#Honkai: Star Rail #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #star rail x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr gepard #hsr blade #hsr jing yuan #fluff #StarTearsWrites

[spacebarbarianweird]

Soooo, tell me, do you think Astarion would be jealous or possessive at times? Do you think he gets nervous about losing his partner?

Oh, he would definteley be possessive! I think it would come out of fear. Like, what if Tav dumps him for someone better?

Thanks @brabblesblog and @rachelle-on-the-run for beta-reading!

Doubts

Synopsis: Astarion thinks you are going to leave him for someone better and accuses you of infidelity.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, a heated argument

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion can't process what he feels.

Anger? Disgust? Disappointment? Betrayal?

You stand in the sunlight, bathing in the warm rays. You smile, sincere and happy, while he stands in the shadows like the monster he is.

A man, a handsome half-elf, with long and dark hair practically dances around you like a bird during mating season. He openly flirts with you and you giggle at his jokes.

You don't try to shut him down. You smile. You laugh.

Astarion can't hear the conversation, but he is sure you wouldn't talk like that if you knew he was near.

If it was night, he could easily grab your hand and threaten this man with the daggers.

But he can't.

He is useless.

The only thing he can do is to watch. He sees you taking the man's hand and then hugging him. Warm and tight.

It's too much even for him. 

He dissapears into the tunnels below the city. When he returns to the camp, it's already dark and you light a fire.

"Astarion,good news", you tell him. "We - What is wrong?"

He looks up at you. The anger is replaced with poison.

"If you wanted to fuck someone else, you should have just said so," he mutters through the teeth.

"What?" 

You dare to look surprised. Sure, why not. You aren't less manipulative than him. Learned from a professional.

"Oh, stop with this innocent smile! You know what I’m talking about! I've seen you flirting with that man. Tell me - is his body warm? Does his back look new and perfect?"

"You followed me."

"Answer the damn questions, Tav!"

You stand up.

"That was my friend. I knew him ages ago! I just didn't expect to meet him all of a sudden!"

"Come on, any common fool could see you were all over each other. You want to sleep with him? Fine. At least, you could be so kind as to tell me beforehand. I think I deserve it."

"Astarion, stop."

Your soft voice annoys him even more. 

He bursts. It's like a firestorm, unstoppable and cruel. He yells at you, spitting all the most disgusting insults as if it can numb at least some of his pain.

A whore. A slut. A bitch.

He yells at the top of his lungs. And then suddenly…

A slap.

Loud and painful. His cheek burns of how hard you've slapped him. It sobers him up and Astarion stares at you in shock. He wishes he could take all the words away. To go back in time and make himself stop before spitting all this poison.

"Tav..."

"GO AWAY!" 

He has never heard you screaming like that. You hate him. And he deserves it.

"GO FUCKING AWAY! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU!"

Tears stream down your face as you sit on the ground. Your body shudders.

And Astarion runs.

He disappears into the woods. In the darkness. In the cold.

The cheek still burns. You've never gotten physical with him - except for that first time when he almost drained you. Astarion sometimes remembers how you kicked him in the ribs.

But, maybe, it's all for the best? You can find a living person to spend your life with. Because what can he even offer? His nightmares? His pain? His tainted touches?

The very thought of you in someone else’s hands makes him sick. But at the same time, what did he expect after calling you all these awful names? 

He needs to disappear, forever.

But the further he goes, the worse he feels. The invisible leash tugs him back and his undead heart bleeds. 

The very idea of not seeing you, being alone, spending this condemned eternity on his own… He would prefer being flayed by a razor rather than living a day without you.

He needs to apologize. He needs to crawl back, begging for forgiveness. The same way he did when he was a slave.

Don't beat me. Don't torture me. I will do anything.

Don't leave me. Don't hurt me. I will do anything. 

As he returns to the camp, he sees you by the fire. You notice him and turn your head away.

"Please... I am sorry... I didn't mean it."

You look at him but instead of the softness he craves there is only cold. 

The only thing he desires is to hug you, to be pressed against your chest. To hear the words of love and comfort.

But there is an invisible wall between you two.

"Please… Don't leave me!" he begs. "I can't… I don't know how to live without you."

You sigh. "Astarion, I am not leaving you. But I am angry. I am angry like all the devils of Avernus."

"Then… I am sorry! I am sorry for calling you all these words, I am sorry for..."

"No, Astarion. It won't work like that. This relationship won’t work. "

Astarion is taken aback. "Then what do you want me to do?"

"I don't want you to do anything. But you need to understand that I have feelings, too."

Silence. Astarion is motionless.

"You are apologizing out of fear." you continue. "Because you’re used to expecting violence. I want you to apologize out of honesty. You hurt me. You accused me of infidelity. You called me all these slurs people used against you, perfectly knowing how much that hurts. You offended my friend, the person I grew up with, someone who I thought was dead. The person who gave me a very good contract just because I asked. For that, I need you to apologize."

You both are silent. Astarion looks somewhere in the distance. 

"Listen, Tav, you know I am like that. I can’t control it."

"You do! That's the thing. You were infantilized for two hundred years. But you are a man. You are not a boy, not a pet, not a slave. You don't need to be trained or taught. You are a man. And you must learn to be responsible for your actions. I understand why you are like that. But it doesn't mean I have to allow you to say anything you want."

The words hurt like daggers when he finally manages to say them out loud.

"I am sorry. I am sorry for thinking you could leave me. I am sorry for hurting you. My emotions took the best of me. I am afraid, I am constantly afraid. I am afraid you will leave me for what I am."

A touch. Soft and delicate. He feels like crying the moment your tender fingers caress his skin.

"And I am sorry for getting physical. I shouldn't have slapped you."

"I deserved it"

"No one deserves beatings. Especially, from their loved ones." 

You press your forehead against his. "You aren't an easy person to deal with, Astarion. But I knew it from the beginning. When you confessed to me, I had a chance to stop it. I didn't do it. Because I love you. But I am a living breathing person and if you hurt me, I bleed. "

He nods. "But if you ever want to end all this - "

"I won't"

He smiles and presses his finger against your lips. "If you ever decide it's too much, tell me. Just be honest. "

You wrap your hands around his neck and tug him close. "You know, when he hugged me, my first thought was "damn, his skin is so uncomfortably hot". And he told me we should stop it because his husband is jealous. I think they are having a very uncomfortable conversation right now."

You sit together in silence looking at the campfire. Soon, Astarion notices a stripe of light in the distance and his vampiric senses send a shiver down his spine.

You yawn.

"Let's get some rest. Astarion, I hate asking for reciprocation, but since you probably want to make amends…"

"What do you want, my sweet?"

"Can you please not leave my side while I sleep? Just be with me till I wake up."

He closes his eyes and lets out a short laugh. And this is your idea of making amends? A few hours ago he would beg you to let him touch you, let alone cuddle with you.

He cocks his head. "Only if you make amends for slapping me."

"And what do you want?"

"I want to be the little spoon."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion hurt #astarion comfort #astarion ancunin #astarion fics #astarion x f!tav #spacebarbarian fics #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader

[lorelune]

lobotomy commission

|| jing yuan x gn!reader || T || love sick hopefully lovers || wc: 3.9k  || ao3 ||

The Xianzhou Alliance has... never allowed lobotomies? Why are you so insistent on receiving one?

(The General, the Divine Foresight.)

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: oh mister general jing yuan you have me so damn heart eyes. here's a lil sweet treat!!!!

CW: fluff, friends to lovers, jing yuan being a bit silly, alcohol consumption, FLUFF, a bit of crack being taken seriously

"Lady Fu, I need to be put down." Your cheek hits the low table. You feel pathetic. It's a Thursday and you're teary-eyed after far too little wine to be in such a state. You sniffle.

"No one is 'putting you down'!" Fu Xuan huffs from the other side, patting your arm. "It's rare that you’re this mopey. What’s troubling you?"

"I am not 'mopey'. I need a lobotomy. Which of the commissions would handle this procedure?"

Lady Fu frowns, clicks her tongue, and sighs your name, “A lobotomy, really?

"Yes, exactly. As soon as possible, preferably.” You down the rest of your cup and restlessly flip your phone screen up. 

"This is particularly pathetic. Stop drinking and wallowing and just tell me what's wrong."

"Fu Xuan, you will scold me." You push yourself up on the table and shake your head. "No, actually, you will fire me. You will send me to my office this very instant, force me to pack up my things, and turn in my permissions. I'll be out of a job. Then, I'll be homeless. then—"

"No, nuh-uh, no more dramatics!" Fu Xuan slaps a hand over your mouth. You're glad you’re seated in a private corner of the bar, as this is a rather pathetic display on both of your parts. "Please just tell me, what’s the matter?”

Your dilemma. 

"I like the General."

Fu Xuan frowns, expression pinched, and her hand falls heavily onto the table. "That... isn’t exactly new information? Even if it’s a... questionable call of taste, the general is handsome. Occasionally charming when he isn’t being an oaf on purpose. I don’t think having a bit of a crush on the Divine Foresight is anything unusual. Half of the population of the Luofu holds the same opinion.

“Okay, but,” you unlock your phone, a ceramic, cat-shaped charm swinging from the vase as you wobble. “What if the General were to return my feelings? And he invited me for a walk and a meal tomorrow evening?”

Fu Xuan's jaw drops. "You're joking."

"I'm not,” you whine and slide your phone across the table.

...

Divine Foresight 🦁:

Are you free tomorrow evening? I know a terrace that has a splendid view of the overlook near the Cinnabar Eyeline. I would be delighted to take you to it and share a meal after, 

Divine Foresight 🦁:

If you'll have me :3c

...

“Oh... wow.”  Fu Xuan looks shocked. It’s hard to shock her, but she does tend to avoid divining the destiny of those she is close to (unless entirely necessary.) Her intuition regardless of mathematics and astral geometry is, however, keen. Yet her eyes are wide and she struggles to gather her words. “What a menace.”

“I know.”

“The General is rarely so forward. I’ve never heard of him being so forward.”

“I know.”

“Except, perhaps—”

“With me?” You rub your cheeks. They’re warm from the wine. 

“Only you. Though this is particularly... telling. I’m sure it’s sincere.”

“I would agree.” Your stomach flutters, and you swallow the feeling down. 

Fu Xuan narrows her eyes and says your name, mouth in a thin line, "You haven't replied."

“And that’s why I need the lobotomy.” You swallow. “I’m going to turn him down.”

“WHAT?!”

You need another drink.

Fu Xuan clearly does not. Her cheeks flush rosy pink as she slaps her hands on the low table. “Why would you reject him? Even if he’s a scoundrel— he is genuine.”

“I know, that’s why I can’t accept his... proposition.”

Despite knowing that Jing Yuan serially denies any potential suitors or daring admirers. You know that it has always been like this— from the time long ago when he first gained rank, to his ‘withered age’ as he self-deprecating refers to himself now. He is always kind about his rejections, you’ve witnessed one or two of them, but he never even entertains the idea of romantic partnership. You’ve never heard him mention it or any desires. 

So, for him to so bluntly ask you on a date—

He couldn’t be more clear with his feelings. 

“You’re a fool.”

“Now, you’re getting it.” You pour yourself another glass of plum wine. Your shared bottle is nearly empty. “This is why I need the lobotomy.”

Fu Xuan watches you drink your glass in a single go. Her brows are pinched and her arms are crossed. Her shoulders sag a moment later.

“I do believe I understand your reasoning, and I don’t think it’s lobotomy-worthy.”

“... High praise.” 

“[Name].”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” You laugh behind your palm. The world feels sticky and bouncy, all at once. You crave the respite of your own bed. “I can’t accept his proposition in the form of a text. I mean, Lady Fu, he's the most powerful man on the Luofu. He is renowned in all fields of battle, strategic, and social graces. He’s kind. He probably like, kisses babies on Sundays at the markets."

"He does not."

"You never know!" You groan. "That's all to say that I won't accept an invitation to a date with this little effort put into it."

"... Because it's a text?"

"Because it's a text." You nod.

Fu Xuan pauses, then sighs. 

“I can’t decide if that makes you a fool or not.” Her hair is frizzing up with the humidity. "Perhaps you have a point, the General is old enough to know and have some decorum when going about these things."

"Maybe he's a virgin? But like, for dating." 

"I'd have to check... certain records. Archives. To confirm or deny that."

You wilt, “He probably isn’t. I’m being foolish.” 

“No, you’re not.” Fu Xuan smooths a hand over your cheek with a frown. 

"Lady Fu," you cry and wish you were at home. In bed. Maybe you should block his number. "You're supposed to say, 'You absolutely are, my most beloved junior, I will schedule your lobotomy and—’"

"No more talk of lobotomies, please."

"Fine, fine." you sigh and finish off your final cup as Lady Fu does as well. "Do you think I'm nuts for turning him down?"

"... No, I don't." Fu Xuan looks shy for a moment. A lot more human than her lofty station implies. "I don't doubt that... Jing Yuan has feelings for you. I see how he looks at you. But he ought to romance you a bit. A text is low effort. You should reply regardless though."

"I'm going to, I just needed some courage. And moral support." You give her a soft smile and tap back into your messages. Fu Xuan practically crawls around the table to your side. She leans her head on your shoulders and her eyes droop. You take a heavy inhale, then exhale, attempt to focus your blurry vision and craft.

...

You:

General, though I'm flatered by your offer, I will need to decline. Though I will ackknowledge what I would imagine (and hope)) to be your genun

You:

geuine

You:

gennuie

You:

genuine

You:

feelings, I cannot accept an invitation in the form of a text message. I must be wooed.

You:

lady Fuu says "if you are capable of such things"

You:

pls don't fire her she's a good boss and so nice

You:

[picture from XX/XX/XXXX @ 2:14 AM]

...

The next morning is hell. Hell. You wished you had undergone your requested lobotomy. It certainly feels like someone has stuck metal rods into your brain, with the migraine pounding the back of your eyes. Maybe a hangover this bad is somewhat equivalent to a lobotomy. Your memory of your night prior is... cloudy, to say the least. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you manage to down a glass of water and a handful of peachy-colored pills. You speed walk to the Divination Commission, shooting Fu Xuan an apologetic “sorry, running late, forgive me 🙏" text. 

You mentally pat your drunk self on the back. After you sent your... rejection (ouch) to the General, you muted his messages and deleted the thread. No evidence, no way to feel awkward about it sober. And no way to dwell on it either. Besides, you hardly remember what you said to him after your last glass of wine. It’s hazy in your memory.

It was... perhaps a foolish way to go about things. You certainly could have approached the General and talked about it, but he sometimes spoke in circles about matters of the heart. Maybe... maybe you felt too fragile to dance that dance, if it came to that. Maybe, you were a bit overwhelmed by his invitation. You know all too well that he does not let himself be pursued. He does not pursue others. 

You feel blind-sided by the whole thing.

But that doesn’t matter— because you cleanly rejected him and your only repercussion is a hangover that you’re sure Fu Xuan is twinning. 

And besides, it’s better that you rejected him. He’s of such a high— highest station. He wouldn’t have time for you, surely. You... have gotten used to your entirely and completely platonic, twice-a-month lunch dates and the occasional star chess lesson (where he never lets you win but you swear you'll give him a run for his money.) But it's fine. You can let go of those things, along with your feelings for the General.

It's better this way.

You think these thoughts somewhat confidently until you arrive at the Divination Commission and find a crowd swarming the central platform under the Matrix of Prescience Ultima. Frowning, you try to weave through the edge of it to your office, where you conveniently have a few nutrition shakes stashed away that you most certainly need. You’re already late and this hangover needs to go. You have a full docket for the day that you need to make fuller so you don’t think about—

You nearly stumble when you hear a rich, familiar, roll of laughter. You freeze, slowly turning to the sound. A crown of fluffy hair peaks above the small crowd, a red ribbon waving in the breeze.

Absolutely fucking not.

You duck, just in case, and try to creep below the crowd. You probably look ridiculous, but you absolutely cannot see Jing Yuan. You can’t. Your poorly-thought out, hungover plan of not caring about the General does somewhat heavily rely on not seeing the man. You trip over over your own feet and barely catch yourself so as to not tumble to the ground.

Jing Yuan calls your name and 

You freeze before jolting to your full height a moment later. The gaggle of your coworkers part enough so that you’re able to see him— lit so well and handsomely in the morning sun, smiling so easily with... perhaps a hint of mischief in the curve of his lips. 

He waves with his free hand, while a massive bouquet is pillowed in the crook of his arm.

The flowers are beautiful— off-ship exotics, clearly. The colors are all bright oranges and vibrant blues. Thinner stems are topped with bundles of white, delicate flowers that break the barrage of colors. They look fresh, like they’d been cut this morning. Fu Xuan stands next to him, clearly hungover herself and close to popping a blood vessel. It’s incredibly rare that the General do anything in the mornings, especially causing a commotion in the Divination Commission. 

Jing Yuan, who is more than likely aware of this, looks entirely unbothered. Actually, he glows as he calls your name, gentle and rich, and the sound of it hits you in the chest, “There you are.”

"Here I am." You're not. You need that lobotomy. You nod to him curtly, "General. Is there something I can help you with today?"

Fu Xuan looks like she’s going to expire right there on the platform. 

Jing Yuan cocks his head knowingly, “There is, yes. I have a rather personal matter to discuss in private with you. Are you available?”

You have things on your schedule. You can make yourself appear busy, if it means not dealing with the General you can’t really hide from and the beautiful bouquet in his arms. “Well—”

“They’re free.” Fu Xuan all but pushes you toward him. You regret covering her tab the night before. “Especially free, since I’ll be rescheduling our weekly meeting to tomorrow.”

“Is that really necessary—?” You laugh and wring your hands. You feel caught in the worst way. “General, will this personal discussion take much time? I am quite busy today—”

Jing Yuan, who has been watching your exchange with Fu Xuan wordlessly, looks a bit... crestfallen. It’s hard to tell on a man who holds himself like the General, but it’s there. A crease between his brows that’s slight, but visible and abnormal. Maybe he’s holding the bouquet a little tighter than he probably thought. There’s a sheen of sweat on his temple that, if asked, he would probably blame on the heat index for the day.

Your words die in your throat as you take him in and force yourself to meet his gaze. Honeyed and sad, a bit like a kicked dog.

“... I suppose, I could arrange a proper appointment with you. Perhaps it was uncouth of me to expect such accommodations to be made for me last minute. I apologize.” You can hear his tone change. It may be imperceptible to someone else, but you notice the shift in him. Gone is the playful lilt and air of mischief, on his a veneer of niceties that you... had forgotten he loses around you. 

Something in your chest aches.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Floundering. Jing Yuan adjusts his hold on the bouquet—

“Enough of this.” Lady Fu shakes her head. She shoos a hand toward the lingering onlookers. “Back to work, now. Don’t eavesdrop either. I’ll know if you do.”

(Debatable, but it’s Fu Xuan’s favorite threat.)

Once the crowd has dispersed, she turns toward you too. You needed that lobotomy, like, yesterday. 

“I will make the necessary changes to your schedule so you can speak privately for as long as you need." She points at you, then Jing Yuan. “Sort this.”

The General raises an eyebrow at her. She’s bold to speak in such a way to someone above her own station, but Lady Fu doesn't dare back down. She glares at him, then you, partially covering her mouth to block Jing Yuan’s view before mouthing, “FIX THIS!!!!” 

...

On the way to your office, you walk side by side, in silence. You’re trying to think of the right words to say.

“... Are you sure you have time for this, General?” You ask him, softly. “I don’t mean to ask as a slight— just— I don’t want to inconvenience you is all.”

“Of course.” He replies easily. You turn down the long, quiet corridor that leads to your office. It’s tucked away in a corner of the divination Commission, facing outward toward the Arbor’s stump with tall windows providing a sunlit view. You’re glad you don’t have to look at him as you unlock the door with a thick-looking key. “This is a rather pertinent, time-sensitive matter we’re discussing. My own schedule is not consequential in this case. Haste, moreso.”

You laugh under your breath.

“Great Lan, Qingzu is going to kill me.” You sigh before pushing the door open with a shake of your head. Perhaps a smile curls on your lips. Who’s to say. “Did you at least not leave a pile of paperwork for her to delegate in your stead?”

“And what, diminish the time I have for my afternoon nap with busy work?” Jing Yuan laughs. The sound fills you from the bottom up and you want to choke on it. You tear your gaze away from him. “Such a thing would be unhealthy, you know. I’m an old man.”

“An old man who needs an ample amount of beauty sleep.” You tease him, it’s easy to. You speak before you even have a chance to think about the warm nature of your words. The meaning behind the bouquet in his arms that he still hasn’t given to you. 

Why Jing Yuan is in your office at all. 

“... If this is about my texts my last night—”

“It is, partially.” Jing Yuan hums. “I’m afraid I’ve slighted you, and it’s of the utmost importance I correct my transgression.”

 “That’s— That’s not necessary, General.” Your cheeks burn. 

“It is. Entirely, in fact. Stating my intentions with you over text messages was... a poor choice on my part. I must apologize appropriately, don’t you think? 

“I mean— that’s—” Your words flounder in your mouth. “Kind of you.” 

It is kind of him. He certainly doesn’t need to be here, in your cramped office, with a bouquet that costs close to what you make in a day of work. He doesn’t need to be showing a sincere, lovesick smile as he speaks. He’s showing you a card he’s kept close to his chest. One you, perhaps, guessed he had, but hadn’t intended to ever see.

He presents you with the bouquet, “You said you must be wooed, and I am here to begin that process explicitly.”

"... I said what?" You’re going to burst into flames. 

“I thought you may not recall your exact words. Did you and Lady Fu have a fun night together?” Jing Yuan chuckles, and you flush so hot you feel almost faint. “You said that I must, and I quote, ‘woo you’.” 

He smiles at you, the glint in his eye a bit more mischievous. More knowing. He’s toying with you. 

“I— no— I’m so sorry, General.” You cover your face with your hands and back into your desk. “Forget I said that. Please forget I said anything.”

“Please, use my name.” He corrects, gently. “I’d prefer not to forget. You have a point, I should have stated my intentions clearly and to you in person.”

You peek at him between your fingers. He still holds the bouquet out to you, like he’s trying to lure a cagey cat in for a pet rather than make a confession. You feel out of sorts. Off kilter. That said— it is nice to hear him in person. Your heart has been oscillating between fluttering and pounding. 

Jing Yuan tilts his head sweetly at you. You take the bouquet from him and examine it closer. There’s yellow and lilac pollen dusted on the filaments, fresh and fragrant. 

“Jing Yuan, then.” You reply to him, softly. It’s hardly the first time you’ve called him by his name, rather than a title, but he preens when you speak regardless. “... So, you intend to woo me then?”

“Entirely.” Jing Yuan hums to himself, looking quite proud. “I do fully recant my offer I sent previously. Though I would be happy to lounge with you in the terraces and see some lovely views, I’ve secured a reservation for this evening at a lovely restaurant in the Exalting Sanctum, if you would accompany me.” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly.  You can’t help the little smile that’s twitching over your lips. You take care to not crush the bouquet in your arms, despite the urge to squeeze it to your chest, just to tamp down the thumping of your heart. Stroking your thumb over the silken petal of lush, round-petaled bloom, you let yourself smile. 

You can practically hear Jing Yuan holding his breath. His eyes look hopeful and young. 

“I accept,” you reply. “Consider me wooed.”

“It was that easy?” Jing Yuan’s voice takes that air of smugness that you know is a farce but you still can’t help but to approach him and bat your hands at his chest.

“I already like you, you know,” You laugh. “I was more offended that you wouldn’t face me and tell me your intentions. I hardly know the General to be a coward. I was a bit slighted.”

Jing Yuan catches your wrists in one of his hands and gently holds them against your sternum. His fingers lay over the thump of your heart; you wonder if he can feel it. You feel pleasantly woozy when you meet his eyes and all their intensity. Intention. 

“I apologize.” He speaks smoothly, easily. Perhaps ducking his head down to be closer to your own. “It’s quite difficult to proposition someone so beautiful and kind.”

“Ah, so the General was hiding behind a screen, then?” You laugh over the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”

Jing Yuan hums, and you pop up on the corner of your desk. He’s close enough to feel the heat of him, and see the threading of his uniform and the glitter woven into the rich fabrics.

“Hm, I wouldn’t say it has anything to do with cowardice.” Jing Yuan shakes his head. His breath is warm over your cheeks. “I planned to tell you my intentions of courting you at the Terraces, once you accepted. I, perhaps, was too presumptuous in expecting you to assume beyond my initial ask. I should have been more clear.”

You stifle a laugh and flex your hands, still held in his firm, but kind grip. 

“Jing Yuan, if you continue to speak to me so directly, I’ll demand you take me out now and not this evening.”

“Is that so?”

“Entirely.” You struggle to maintain eye contact and not let your gaze drift down to his lips. “I’m not used to you speaking so clearly, only your riddles.”

“What riddles?” He tilts his head, curly, a sweet smile on his face that is far too mischievous for who he is expected to be.

“Oh, you know—”

“Do I?” Jing Yuan asks. He steps between your thighs, the width of him forcing your legs wider. As if your flush could be any more intense. “You must tell me more over lunch. I’ll send a message to Lady Fu and clear your schedule?”

“... She did say to take as long as we need to sort this,” You soften, a bit intimated, if only for a moment. “Is this sorted?”

Jing Yuan hums, “You did say you were wooed. I’d consider that fairly sorted.”

“And you’ll have me?” You ask him, daring to slide your arms over his shoulders. The contact bubbles up months of tension over Star Chess boards (during games that, perhaps, were not entirely platonic). 

“I’d be honored.” Jing Yuan’s voice sounds sweet, more quiet than you’ve heard before, like it’s just for you to hear. 

There’s an edge to it all still— something raw and new that will need to be tempered. That is the nature of immortality and the relationships and partnerships that come with it. Complexes develop, heal, and grow differently within the self. You’ve already gamed out a few of Jing Yuan’s (a cursed Master who he will only reference in melancholy, unrequited love he was too young for, so many tragedies that he somehow manages to give himself for not preventing). He is perceptive. You’re sure he has put together some of yours as well. 

For now, there’s a promise of good things. There’s the feel of him pressing his lips to yours, gentle but unyielding, strung with a mutual yearning that, in retrospect, would’ve been a shame to crush and hide away. There’s the warmth of him so close, and closer still when you drag him closer by the nape of his neck.

You can feel his grin against your lips, and you mirror it easily.

No riddles, only a fragrant bouquet and intention. 

#lore writes #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan reader insert #hsr x reader #im very in love with him #he is so husband #feeling very soft and yearning about him lately AAAAH #enjoy :''^)

[pleasurebuttonwrites]

Irritated

Matt Murdock x F!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 2.2K

Summary Cooking for Matt goes all wrong and your insecurities come out.

Warnings smut, oral (f receiving), angst with a happy ending

A/N First time writing for Matt. The perfectionism was strong with this one - this has been sitting for months and I'm finally posting.

~~~

The cloud of smoke is quickly filling the apartment. You had turned the burners off, but the charred mass in the skillet is still sizzling. You crank the vent hood fan on high, and open a window. It isn’t enough.

—

As he’s racing home across the rooftops, the smell singes his nostrils. His body is exhausted but it gives him a dose of adrenaline before he realizes that it’s not a fire, just a burnt dinner.

Dinner? At this time of night?

That’s when it dawns on him. The smell is coming from his apartment. Maybe it’s my neighbor, he hopes with half-hearted optimism. With the way his night has gone, he doesn’t think he’ll get that lucky.

—

You’re fanning the smoke out of the window, using one of Matt’s law document tomes in Braille, when you hear the door to the roof. You speed up your fanning, as if that will in any way remove the smell from the apartment.

His footsteps are on the steps now and you turn to apologize — with some self-deprecating humor to relieve your anxiety — when you catch the irritation on his face. Cautiously, you say, “I’m sorry about the smoke. I was just trying to cook and I don’t know what—”

“It’s fine.” He cuts you off with words a little too flat and forceful to be sincere.

That familiar feeling washes over you. You had expected it to happen sooner or later, and here it was. He was finally figuring out that you were more trouble than you were worth.

He tosses his mask on the chair and yanks off his gloves, his mood infecting every motion. Without another word to you he retreats to his room and closes the door behind him.

—

From the other side of the door, Matt catches the way your breath hitches, hears you gather your things and walk out. He wants to stop you but the devil still has a hold on him and he knows he could only make things worse now.

He knew this would happen sooner or later. He knew he’d drive you away. Took longer than he thought it would. He tells himself the smart thing to do would be to let you go. Just let it end here.

But he hears your footsteps on the pavement outside. You’re walking home instead of taking a cab. He throws a shirt and pants on over his suit, and chases after you.

—

You only make it a block before he walks out of the shadows and strolls along next to you, not even winded from catching up.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You could get hurt.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, resentfully even. If he’s there out of real concern for you, rather than a sense of duty, he doesn’t show it. You say nothing to that and he doesn’t speak again.

The walk seems to take longer under the weight of the silence between you. When you finally get to your building’s door, you unlock it quickly and step inside. You don’t even look at Matt as you push the door closed behind you. But before it can latch, he catches it.

“Sweetheart,” he begins. “I’m sorry about the way I— the way I acted. It had nothing to do with you. I had a shitty night and I should’ve cooled off before coming home.”

When he puts it like that, it makes you seem unreasonable. Softly, apologetically, you say, “No, you should get to cool off in your own home.”

The words you’re not saying hang in the air between you but you feel too foolish to speak them so instead you stand there in the doorway, picking at your nails, looking down at them instead of him. He reaches out and stills your fidgeting, his warm hand enveloping both of yours. “What is it, sweetheart? Will you talk to me, please?”

Your first instinct is to lie, but the way he subtly turns his ear to you lets you know he’s listening to your heartbeat. Your pulse picks up just from knowing he’ll know if you lie.

You let out a sigh. “I just— I feel like I can’t do anything right.”

His brows furrow and he lifts his chin. You wait for him to prompt you but he’s going to keep silent until you tell him everything. He’s stubborn like that.

You remind yourself that he actually wants to know. He’s asking you for the truth. You take a deep breath, gearing up for an act of trust, and you let it all spill out. “All I do is make everything worse. I mean, I don’t bring anything to this relationship. But I thought maybe I could make you a nice meal. Then I’d be good for something. And that blew up in my face. Almost literally.”

A thick silence follows and you think he must be struggling and failing to dispute anything you’ve said. But you realize you’ve read it all wrong when he says in a quiet and deadly voice, “You think you don’t bring anything to our relationship?”

That voice — his devil’s voice — never fails to light a fire inside you. The sudden heat on your skin makes the night air feel that much cooler, and you shiver. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, taking in all the ways your body has reacted to him.

He steps forward into your building, and you step back. “It seems I haven’t properly showed you how important you are to me.”

As he advances, you back down the hallway. You can’t take your eyes off his face. The naked desire, the grim determination, the devil stalking his prey. You nearly collide with the staircase banister, but he gently guides you out of the way with a hand on your hip. One he doesn’t remove until you get to your door.

He plucks the keys from your hands and feels for the right one before quickly unlocking your door. It swings open but you both stand at the threshold.

“Matt,” you begin. As much as your body is begging for him, you feel guilty that the whole situation got turned around. You were trying to prove something to him and now he’s the one putting in the effort. Again. “I just feel like I haven’t yet earned your love.”

He hangs his head, exhaling his frustration. “First of all, you don’t need to earn my love. Secondly, if you even think for one second that you don’t deserve it, then I’ve failed you.”

“No, stop! I’m the one who fucked up, okay?” You storm past him into your apartment. He follows you inside, shutting the door behind him.

He draws in a breath to say something, but thinks better of it. He nods and says simply, “Okay.”

It’s the way he gives in that has you on alert. He never just gives in; he’s planning something.

“Make it up to me, then,” he tells you.

“How?”

“Take off your pants.”

“Matt—”

“I said, take off your pants.”

“That can’t be all I’m good for.”

“Sweetheart, I promise you we will find a way for you to feel deserving in this relationship. But right now, let me surround myself with your scent so I can get this smoke out of my nostrils.”

How were you supposed to think straight when he says things like that to you? You really wanted to give him what he wanted, but it didn’t feel right. “Well then that’s just you doing something for me again and I still can’t give you anything.”

He flashes that grin he uses during cross-examination when he’s about to tear the prosecution’s case to shreds. “You wanted to feed me. Now let me eat.”

—

You don’t know how he does it. But as soon as you stopped protesting, he had you naked with your ass at the edge of the couch and him kneeling in front of you.

“Spread your legs for me,” he says in a low, soft voice. You do as he says. He takes one deep breath and whines, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. “I can already taste you.”

He starts on your thighs, pressing kisses from your knee to the hinge at your hip all along the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You feel the heat of his breath pass over your cunt before he kisses his way down to your other knee.

He’s doing it on purpose. Taking his time and lavishing you with kisses. Giving again. The guilt washes over you. “Matt—”

He shushes you just as the pad of his thumb brushes at your entrance, collecting your slick before sliding up to your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and your words die on your lips. He applies just the right amount of pressure as he works circles over your sensitive nub. You whimper at his touch and he gives a satisfied hum in response.

It feels so good yet it’s not enough. “Matty, please.” Your voice is barely even a whisper but he hears you loud and clear. He lifts his thumb to his lips, moaning as your taste hits his tongue at last.

You expect to feel his mouth on you but instead he brings his hands together and says, “Bless us O Lord and these Thy gifts—”

“Matt—”

His name is no sooner from your mouth than his lips wrap around your clit, and you cry out from the pleasure. His skilled tongue slides through your folds and dips into your entrance. You clench around nothing, pushing more of your juices onto his greedy tongue. You don’t have to worry about making a mess on the couch. He’d never let one drop of you spill.

You honestly don’t know which of you are making more noise. He’s so vocal even with his mouth as busy as it is. He grunts and moans with every exhale, and every inhale is a heavy intake through his nose — when it’s not pressed into you.

Your hand, outstretched at your side, grips a throw pillow, the stuffing clumped beneath your palm, your fingers wrinkling the fabric. Matt clamps his hand over yours — while his tongue continues swirling — and guides you to the crown of his head. You grip a fistful of his hair and instinctively pull him even tighter to you.

His moans muffle but grow more desperate. In truth, you try hard not to make more sound than your breath, just to catch every unhinged noise of his.

You’re so close now. You can’t help but raise your hips a bit, humping his face as his tongue works you over. The vibration of his growl sends you over the edge. No matter how quiet you’ve been trying to be, the force of your orgasm rips pleas from your lips. “Matty…fuck! Oh, Matty, hngh…”

As you come down from your high, you loosen your grip on his hair and he slowly pulls away from you. You take in the sight of him. A bit of his Daredevil suit peeks beneath his shirt. His hair is mussed, hairline damp with sweat, and his mouth and chin are coated with you. He licks his lips and smiles and it’s totally unfair how pretty he is just like this.

You let your head fall back, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But the drop in your heart rate coincides with the rise of your thoughts, and the feelings of guilt, shame, unworthiness. You don’t know why you can’t just accept his love. But no matter how much you try to trust that he means what he says, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve fooled him somehow. And he’s going to wake up one day realizing his mistake.

Almost as if he can read your thoughts —

“Sweetheart, if you need me between your legs to chase away your thoughts, I’m more than happy to be of service, but it’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it.”

“Matt Murdock’s lecturing me on what’s healthy.”

“I know. I know.” He gives you that wide smile. So comforting that it’s impossible to feel anything but warmth when he smiles at you like that. Then he gives your thigh a little smack and says, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

—

Later, while you’re laying in bed together, his body cradled around yours, you’re both too tired to continue the conversation you know you need to have, a conversation of the ongoing variety. In the quiet and the dark you both feel your insecurities rise. Matt is pretty sure he’ll end up driving you away. You’re pretty sure he’ll realize you aren’t as great as he thinks and leave. But both of you really want this to work and you’re both willing to work on it.

Your thoughts hazy, your breath becoming rhythmic, you speak into the dark. “I don’t have to cook for you, you know. Like if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

He hums in response, sleep nearly stealing his ability to speak. “If you want to… then I want that…too. But you don’t have to. But you can. You can use my kitchen whenever you want. If you want.”

You’re both quiet again and you nearly fall asleep then he says, “Just not for a few days. Let the smoke clear. ‘M staying at yours til then.”

#matt murdock fic #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock smut

[macfrog]

walking through fire | one shot

just something that's been on my mind the last few weeks. i hope that you're all ok going into this difficult time of year. and if there's any part of this, big or small, that you find yourself resonating with - there will always be a warm, cozy chair in my inbox/dms, free for you to come sit, hang; we can talk about everything or nothing at all. love you guys. 🤍

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk. (better than most healthcare systems offer amarite)

warnings: quite literally about depression & anxiety so please read at your own discretion. established relationship, fluffy soft!joel takes care of his girl, implied suicidal thoughts, use of medication to treat depression/anxiety, feelings of worthlessness/burdening, but hope! in the end! a wee sliver of hope!

word count: 2.7k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤

November turns on itself all too quickly.

Your body feels like lead, sinking deep into the mattress. Like a broken, rusted shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean; your hand lying limp above the bedsheets like a sailor’s last attempt at reaching over the waves for help.

Joel opened the blinds today. Nuzzled into you, the scruff of his beard sharp on your numb skin, and then stood up and slowly unveiled the glaring light of white cloud. You shrunk further into the bed, your hot breath suffocating you under the sheets. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing in your own rotten air.

He pushes the door open and shuffles across to the bed. Your sea dips when he lowers into it, two arms slipping around your waist like a lifebuoy. He pulls you into his chest; his warm body melting the ice of your bones.

“Hey,” he whispers, and drags his nose across your cheek. He kisses your temple, combs his fingers through your hair. Dabs his thumb along your bottom lip and then says again, “Hey, darlin’. You awake?”

Your eyes flutter open, only enough to see the blurry shape of him; the strong curve of his shoulder, the binary of dark cotton and pale skin.

“Hi, baby. How you feelin’ this mornin’?”

The words catch on the dry cliff of your throat, dangling for a few seconds like panicking climbers, before plummeting into the abyss. You settle for an incoherent mumbling, a vibration on your lips that Joel understands through the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “not so good, huh? That’s okay. You know how much I love you?”

And that peels your eyes open a fraction more. Only enough to sharpen the image of him, to find the dark pools of his eyes and the way the flame in them flickers as he says it.

“Love you so much,” he whispers. The tiny fire thaws the very bottom of your heart, even if only enough to keep the blood pushing heavily through your veins.

Your eyes close over again, and you take his shirt in two weak fists, pulling yourself into his body. Your head fits in the crook of his arm, burying into his side.

“You feel like leavin’ the house today?” he asks, voice sweet and earnest. “Just for a little while? We could go for a walk, could go for a drive. Just you ‘n me, sweet girl.”

You shake your head, your eyes prickling from the sincerity of his question. The guilt beginning to creep its way over your shoulders.

“No? You don’t wanna?” He lifts his head, staring out at the view from the window. “’s a nice day out. Cold, but it’s dry, ‘n the leaves are all orange and yellow, just like you like. Not even for a half hour?”

That same guilt – sneering, bullying – pokes a sharp-clawed finger in your ribs until you answer him. “Tired,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut until you see the sudden, violent assault of stars in your vision.

“I know you’re tired, baby,” Joel says, stroking your back. “But it might do you a little good to get some fresh air. And you’d be with me, and we can come back home whenever you decide.”

Your fear and shame seem to cower beneath his words; melted by the soft timbre of his voice. They retreat inward, burrowing deep between the cage of your ribs, twisting and mangling around your pale bones.

“We can come back whenever?” you whisper, defying their threats.

“Whenever, darlin’. Promise.”

You surrender yourself, letting him take you in his arms and carry you over to your closet, where he sets you down gently. Keeping an arm around your waist, Joel waits patiently as you pick an outfit, and then helps drape it over your frame. You feel more statue than human – solid substance rather than plush flesh. Cold and brittle; the tender touch and lively glow drained from your skin the same way it drains so quickly of energy.

You’ve been fighting for years. Months and months and months of one step at a time and just keep going. Being told you’re more than what’s going on in your brain, being told not to let it become you. But there are days when you stand before the mirror, and you don’t recognize the figure staring back at you. The dark tunnels in place of eyes, the thin line of her lips.

There are days you can see the marks on your skin from how tight your anxiety and depression bind you; wrapping like ivy around your body until there’s nothing left of you to see through the dark green leaves. Just a haggard, shapeless thing. A skeleton too tired to carry the weight of yourself; a heart too weary to beat in time.

There once existed a time you had smiled, even laughed – you know it, you have the lines scored deep into your cheeks to prove it. Sometimes they ache when you think about it, like even they miss the feeling. Joel knows it, too – you sense it whenever he tells some dumb joke, sense that he’s searching your face for the slightest lift, the slightest dip of a dimple. And it fucking kills you, when you realize you have nothing sincere or true to offer him. No swollen cheeks, no flash of teeth. At best, a heavier exhale pushed from your nostrils.

It all feels so long ago, that lighter, fresher, happier you. It feels so far from your clutches. Like you’re drifting further and further from the surface, disappearing into the murky depths of your own mind.

The doctors, the articles, the fucking motivational posts on Instagram all say the same. Keep fighting it. Confront your illness. Prove it wrong. But you’re so fucking tired of fighting. Fighting it the entire drive to work, your heart threatening to burst; fighting it every conversation you have, your façade slowly cracking. Swallowing the panic like you swallow the medication; both of them sticking in your throat and refusing to go down.

There is no fighting it. There is no overcoming through confrontation. If you broke your leg, shattered every bone to dust, would they say the same? You gotta walk on it straight away to make it strong again. You don’t think so.

Joel doesn’t seem to think so, either. Joel, with a heart of molten gold, ready at every turn to let it pour onto your skin and paint it the color of sunlight when you can’t do it yourself. Joel, with his strong arms and wide reach, bundling you up over the top of all that foul ivy and snapping its thick stems with just his fingers.

Joel, who will sit at the edge of your bed and watch you take your meds; kiss your forehead and squeeze you tight when you show him your empty mouth. Joel, who will hold you in the dead of night and tell you stupid stories about his brother when they were kids, rubbing your back and chasing the dark ghosts from your mind.

Joel, who still sees something in you – whether he’s imagining it or not – and decides each day that it’s worth protecting. Worth saving. You’re worth saving, even on the days you don’t believe it yourself.

He drives for ten minutes, a little out of the suburbs and into a thicket of fire-colored leaves and solid, frozen ground. Fall sinks its teeth deep into the roots of the earth, drying up the bloom of summer and replacing it with something harder, something tougher. Nature is dying in the November breeze – the amber leaves painted the color of the trees’ blood as they fight a losing battle against the shifting of time. You feel yourself decaying with it: a drawn-out, painful surrender to the bleak days and dark nights.

Joel keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride; you keep your fingers intertwined with his. The fluttering in your chest gets quicker and quicker, spreads its wings wider the further you feel from home. Your mouth dries up, forcing you to swallow after every third breath. But his hand stays there, planted on you like the root of an ancient tree: never shifting, no matter how strong the wind throws punches.

A shaky breath falls from your lips when he slows to a halt, the truck parked by a long wooden gate. He cuts the engine and turns to you, squeezing your leg lightly.

“We’re just gonna walk down there,” he nods out the window, “and back again. As slow as you like, ‘n we turn back when?”

“Whenever I want,” you whisper, nodding.

“Whenever you want, darlin’. Just say the word, alright? Sound good?”

You nod, blinking away the strain of tears across your vision. Your knee bounces, the metal buckles on your boots clinking in the footwell.

Joel rubs his thumb against your cheek. Lifts your free hand and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. “I am so proud of you,” he mumbles against them, like scoring it into the bone.

You fill your cheeks, flattening your lips together, and he pulls on his door handle.

Five paces from the car, you realize how cold it is. The bitter air snaps at your cheeks, drags the salty tears from your eyes. Joel quickly fixes the collar of your jacket and pulls your scarf over your face.

“You bring gloves?” he asks.

Your head shakes in response.

“Here.” He fishes in the pockets of his tan jacket for a dark brown pair, flicking his fingers for you to hold your quivering hands out. He slips them on, all too big for you, and then knots his fingers through yours and leads you on down the sloping backroad.

Bordered by tall trees on either side, you feel secluded and hidden from the rest of the world. It fills you with equal parts comfort and terror: nobody else is here. No one can see your vacant eyes, the wet stain of fallen tears on your cheeks. Not the vice grip you have on your boyfriend or the weak quiver of your voice.

And at the same time: nobody else is here. No people, no sign of life. Just an isolated track, the looming trees overhead, the squelch of muck and the bite of fall for company.

Joel matches your pace, strolling along by your side with your arm through his and his hand resting on top of yours. He catches your glances over your shoulder, sees the jittery movements of your head as you scan the scene around you, and pats the back of your hand tenderly.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

You fill your lungs with a chilly gulp of air, pushing it back out again as steadily as you can.

“And again.”

You repeat the exercise, your chest swelling against your buttoned up coat.

“You’re doin’ great,” he says, looking down at you. “You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m – Yeah, I’m just…” you twist back to search for the wooden gate, “…can’t see the truck anymore.”

“’s right there, promise ya. You wanna go back?”

He pauses, and your boots scuff to a halt on the stony terrain. You chew the inside of your cheek, eyebrows arching to release more tears from between your lashes. “No,” you breathe, “I wanna try to go further.”

“Then let’s try to go further. Yeah?”

You nod, setting off when you realize he’s waiting for you to take the lead.

The fields on either side of you are strung with a thick blanket of mist from one end to the other, masking the trees at the opposite side and obscuring the line between earth and sky. Your body close to Joel’s, your heartbeat attempting to match the steady pace of his, you feel safe, protected. The promise that you can call it a day whenever your body begins to weigh too much, whenever your lungs begin to falter.

Somewhere between the thinning of the hedgerows, another slanted, shabby gate materializes. Its crisscross panels and worn wooden posts separating you from the first company in your twenty-minute walk.

“Joel,” you call, loosening your grip on his arm and wandering over to the long, dewy grass towards a chestnut horse, a sliver of white fur diving deep between her eyes.

She slowly thumps over, huge hooves sinking deep into the soft dirt. Her long tail swishing, navy rug wrapped around her midriff. She docks at the gate, puffing a heavy breath – hot, thick clouds shooting from each nostril.

“Hi,” you say quietly, lifting a floppy-gloved hand for her to sniff. “Joel?” you say again, glancing down at her swollen belly, the low droop of the rug. “I think she might be pregnant.”

She tosses her head up, ears flicking, and nuzzles into the soft material of Joel’s glove. You feel her wrinkled muzzle, the strong, solid bridge of her nose. She blinks slowly; huge, deep brown eyes twinkling in the late-morning light, and you swear she’s trying to communicate something to you.

“Hey, girl,” Joel says, running a careful hand down her mane.

The horse sighs serenely, eyes flitting between the two of you. Her nostrils flare gently, light brown lashes fluttering. You tilt your head, stroking her and letting her teeth graze the sleeve of your jacket. Her bulky head turns to-and-fro, glancing up and down the trail you’re stood on, contently waiting for the passage of time. Enjoying her view from the misty field before it all changes again.

Unexpected and unwelcome, the absence of compression in your chest suddenly makes itself known. Dread spills into your lungs, thick like tar. You turn on your heel and cast Joel one fleeting glance.

He catches it, and without missing a beat, asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Is that okay?”

“’s more ‘n okay, baby. You did so good today. Didn’t she?” he asks the horse, who huffs another hot breath. Joel tosses a thumb towards her. “See?”

You step back over to the animal, now preparing to wander back on home, and give her one last tender stroke. She blinks twice, tosses her head a final time, and her broad body turns, thudding off back up the slope.

As he links your arms again, Joel blinks down at you, the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

“What?” you ask, shyly.

“Look at you,” he says, nudging your shoulder with a glint in his eye. “You’re smilin’.”

Autumn flashes by as Joel drives you home – ginger and bronze and honey and cinnamon blurring into one as you pass them by. You settle back against the headrest, moving with the sway of the truck, your tired fingers tracing blind shapes on Joel’s palm.

Nature is burning. Perhaps dying is too harsh a term. Burning in preparation for the winter, when it will lay dormant and restful. Quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your feet. Bland, save for the sparkle of frost on your windowpanes. The droplets of beauty laced through, the little reminders that not all has been lost.

I am burning right now, the earth says, but wait until you see what I can become.

The days will turn to night. The sun will tear the sky to tatters, set the whole thing fucking ablaze, go down in a battle stained in red and orange and deep, dark blue – and she will still return, spilling golden all over the horizon. She always does.

The clouds will cover overhead, dampening the color on earth. The blues will fade to gray, the yellows will undoubtedly pale. And then the sky will clear, when it is ready; the clouds will break in two to let a ribbon of cerulean burst through.

The leaves will fall to the ground and feed the soil; new ones will sprout from buds left in their wake. The ground will thaw, will soften again in time to welcome the push of daisies and burst of heather. The horse will foal, the birds will sing to their babies, the buzz of insects will irritate your ears; the rivers will gush and the trees will sway and you will be okay again.

You will be okay again.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #the last of us #tlou #tw mental illness #tw depression #tw anxiety

[anantaru]

umm hi i love the safe word ask for haitham ayato and wondering if it's ok to ask for a kaeya and diluc one? 🥺👉👈 only if your ok with it ofc 🫣

cw. saying the safeword, fem! reader

— kaeya

a bone rattling blow crocheted itself into kaeya‘s limbs and muscles faster than in any other occurrences prior.

yet, surrounded by the split second of your breaking utterance, the grueling moment compressed inside his brain the very moment he perceived your cries, kaeya never thought he would ever have to hear it from you— and a freezing coldness washed over him, strong enough to risk him breaking down in front of you.

beyond everything, he works swift to press himself off you and gather a blanket to cover your quivering body, but right now, kaeya doesn't say a single word to you, not before he's certain you're comfortable in your current location.

then, he forces himself to say something, even though his throat was pulling against it, tugging at the twitching limbs, "a-are you okay?"

sticking to the facts, he would love to smack himself in the face right now for a question this idiotic, at least he himself thought it was— you on the other hand nodded frantically while leaving your eyes shut, a mirage of crystallines sticking around your soused lashes but, step by step, fading away.

you sniffle while messily rubbing your eyes, "can you hug me?" and you're hesitant when you speak your sudden needs, although you do not have to. kaeya, your sweet kaeya, was quick to react, quicker then before as he silently plunged himself next to you— lifting his arm before helping you lean into him.

you do not remember the last time you sensed his heart in that manner, as it beat violently in his chest, it shattered your mind, for the first time full on recognizing his own fragility.

"i'm okay." you say, "i'm okay kaeya, i promise." but, you're his love, in his eyes, you are worth his life and all that he had left was you.

nonetheless, you do not see how he was beating himself up internally, all you witnessed was a trembling "I'm so sorry."

an utterance, while quick to spell out, it held a significant meaning to it, over and over he whispered it, sometimes accompanied by tears and cries, until you fell asleep surrounded by his strong arms.

— diluc

a mind numbing silence— one, which had followed the second you proclaimed the hurting safe word, when it emitted beyond the limits of your own voicing.

diluc‘s hips haltered immediately and his eyes blew open wide, dead and buried. you were his fire, producing the scorching hot flames that breathe all the more deeply for being closer together.

sincerely, diluc was ashamed of himself, he begins to doubt himself and if he was even worth it, at all, primarily that he ever let it go that far.

"love.." he whispers, breathing deep through his nose as you felt the weight of his large palms pulling you off him, "take your time, p-please, take your time, okay?"

diluc moves himself away but sinks down next to you, he sees it too, when you flinch at the slight spasm of pain and hurting, a clear suffering he was the sole reason of.

tears befell his eyes, sticking to his flesh, but diluc doesn't show them to you— not because he was embarrassed of it, it's more that he did not want to waver any attention towards him, this was about you and he needed to be here, to console and kiss away all your pain, if you let him of course.

you see, the man does not touch you, not anymore, at least not before you tell him it's alright. boundaries and the ability to listen were a huge cornerstone he never would've even dreamed of crossing, what he does was being content and aiding you to be comfortable within the warm closeness of fresh silken sheets.

"i think I'm fine now." you breathe a transparency out of your mouth, sloping an inch into his chest to signalize that, yes, it was okay again, that he was allowed to place his hands on you now— but your lovers heaves twitch at the mere sensing of your cheek against his chest as diluc feels how a cold sweat runs down the entirety of his spine.

"i apologize, i'm— I'm so sorry." he takes you gently in his arms, "and i will never let it get this far again."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #diluc smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #diluc x you #kaeya x you #genshin impact diluc smut #genshin impact kaeya smut #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact imagines #diluc x y/n #kaeya x y/n

[konigbabe]

heavenly sin

Pairing: RE4!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags/warnings: smut (pure unfiltered filth, no plot); voice kink; p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; female masturbation; fingering; cunnilingus; established relationship; no y/n; references to Christianity and ferocity; extensive wordplay

Summary: It's been known that Leon is one kinky bastard.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. N is for narratophilia aka being aroused by sexual storytelling.

Tried something a little bit different to explore my knowledge of English. A wordplay of sorts (I basically threw random words together in hopes that it'd make some sense). Bon Appetit.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

“You enjoying yourself?” As Leon discards his gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity. “If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

It started as a joke, a fleeting spark in the sea of banter. Leon’s flirtatious nature entwined in perfect harmony with his tender heart.

Fresh out of the shower, your heart longed for the man whose sudden departures have become routine. A standard in your life.

The sun made its final descent below the horizon, the sky painted in shades of amber and gold – the bedroom awash in a warm and inviting glow, as if every object was kissed by the sun's final rays. The light filtered through the sheer curtains, creating patterns on the floor that danced like flickering flames.

And in the midst of it all, Leon's call came through, cutting through the stillness.

The conversation began innocently. Calling to let you know he’ll be home soon. It was as though his tenderness was butterfly's wings, fluttering in your chest and making your heart skip a beat.

His sincere words slowly spilt over into something else. Something more. Something promising.

It’s now that the phone lies next to your ear, and Leon's voice, like a silk ribbon, unwinds into your consciousness, stirring a deep and primal desire within you. Building the anticipation need inside you.

“After that, I’d bent you over the table. You’d already be naked and dripping,” Leon’s voice a song of Solomon, “but I’d be far from done with you.”

A gasp, soft and quiet, escapes your parted lips. Every fibre of your body, every cell is set on fire. The setting sun casting flames over your naked skin of yours. Flesh burning. Body wrapped in a cocoon of passionate flames – your palm pressing against the sensitive nub, the pressure light as a feather. Slow, languid strokes of your fingers follow Leon’s words.

Muscles tightening as the pressure keeps adding with each sentence. Slow and steady. With a pace of a gentle stream. Dipping one finger deep inside your slick walls, only to stop when you reach fully inside.

A stream of docile moans flows from your throat.

“Just to feel you take my cock. Hear those gorgeous gasps as you beg me to give it to you,” hand gripping the messed-up sheets underneath you, squeezing tight as you add another finger, curling them upwards.

“Rough, just how you like it. Pretty sure we’d break the table,” Leon’s words are accompanied by a light chuckle, hiding much more sinister and vivid ideas inside his head.

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him cuss. Your voice carries the weight of longing, desire, and devotion. Making Leon wish to finally be home.

“Fuck. Could spend all day between those lovely legs of yours.” Leon’s voice descends to a low murmur, tinged with raw, feral hunger.

With a touch as tender as a butterfly’s wing, thumb circling the aching nub of nerves; it ignites a wildfire of ecstasy within your body. As you lightly graze your opening, feeling the softness of your slick walls, a delicate gasp escapes your mouth, akin to a prayer of submission to this moment of pure passion and pleasure.

“Just to taste that pretty pussy of yours on my tongue.”

Leon's voice pours into the phone, rich and sinful. You hear the front door open with a soft creak, the sound echoing through your body. He's finally home, his presence filling your senses with a heady aroma of musk and lust, a tantalizing potion that you can't resist.

He gazes at you with eyes like storm clouds brewing with desire. The air is thick with the scent of sex and your yearning, hanging in the dimly lit bedroom, resembling a heavy fog. You keep your gaze locked with his, transfixed as Leon strides in, his figure outlined by the glow of light seeping in from the hallway.

You don’t stop–

–instead, your fingers delve deeper. Nails grazing the tender walls, the slight discomfort only adding to the pleasure. Like a deer caught in headlines, your eyes stay on his.

The sound of your slickness echoes in the room as you thrust in and out, unconsciously matching the rhythm of Leon's steps – left in, right out, left in, right out – a dance of carnal desire.

And just like that, he stands on the side of the bed.

Leon’s eyes gleam with a fierce intensity. A perfect blend of predatory sensuality and effortless ease. With the grace of a pather; clad in a black henley shirt, the first two buttons undone, exposing the slight curve of his clavicles. It molds to his chiseled form as though it was a second skin, making Leon exude a primal magnetism that draws you closer to your high.

Spellbound by the scene in front of him – by you; fingers deep inside, eyes glazed over with orgasmic ecstasy as your work yourself to your high.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of your desire, a heady aroma that fills his senses with an overwhelming urge to indulge in your rapture.

He steps closer, placing one knee on the bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, but his gaze never leaves yours. It's as if you're the only person in the world that matters to him right now. The heat emanating from his body is palpable, and you feel your heart race as his presence commands the room.

“You enjoying yourself?”

His tone is low. A seductive purr sends a wave of electricity through your veins. Hot like molten lava. Dripping like honey, sweet and luscious. They linger in the air, coating everything around you with a sticky warmth.

His name leaves your lips in a deep sigh. Soft walls squeeze your fingers.

As he discards his fingerless gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity.

Leon’s arm flexes, the sinewy muscles bulging when put to work. Your eyes lock onto his, drinking in the raw masculinity and primal allure of his being. A contented moan escapes your lips, an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming sensuality of the moment.

“If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

His towering form casts a shadow over you as he leans closer. Lips so close you can almost taste the desire that emanated from him. The heat of his breath dances across your skin, making your senses swirl in a dizzying haze of lust; igniting a fire that burns with the intensity of Samson's strength.

“Wanna gimme a kiss?” he whispers, his lips almost brushing against yours. You’re still able to feel the soft graze of the plump skin atop of yours, sending a fluttering sensation to your heart.

You can't help but feel intoxicated by his voice, each word rolling off his tongue with a silky smoothness that sends shivers down your spine. It's almost like he's casting a spell, using his voice as a weapon to ensnare you in his grasp. And you willingly surrender, caught in the web of his honeyed words; like Delilah, powerless to his will, swept away by the power of his seduction.

Lips grazing his, you push your face upwards to be closer. The kiss is both gentle and fierce; a tantalizing dance of lips and tongues that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The taste of him a mix of mint and spice. You stop the movement of your wrist between your legs. Stilling, feeling the wet squeeze around your fingers, your mind becomes a blank canvas, a vast expanse of nothingness.

The taste of him lingers on your tongue as he pulls away. Thick fingers wrapping around your wrist, he nudges your fingers out of you. A displeased grunt leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness. Only to have your breath stop; watching as Leon brings your hand, fingers visibly sticky with your juices, tongue swirling around the tip of your index finger before taking two of the fingers in his mouth. It’s as if he’s tasting the forbidden fruit, savoring the flavor of your arousal like the sweetest nectar.

Feeling the wet tip of his tongue swirl around your fingers, you can’t help but let out a soft moan. The rough texture brushes over the pads of your fingers. Licking every drop of you off of your fingers, leaving them clean before he licks his own lips.

“Missed that taste.”

His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense with desire as he slowly releases your hand.

“Missed you almost that much too.”

His words wash over you like a warm embrace, seeping into your pores and settling deep within your bones. As his body moves over yours, his hands glide across the burning expanse of your skin, tracing patterns of passion that leave you breathless in anticipation. The soft touch of his lips on your navel sends ripples of pleasure through your body, each sensation building on the last until you're gasping for air.

Leon sinks to his knees at the end of the bed; his movements smooth and graceful. Years of never-ending training left him in full control of every muscle. Arms sliding underneath your knees, he holds you firmly as he grips your hips with unyielding strength.

A single tug. Confident in its prosecution. He brings you to the edge of the bed, your glistening cunt hovering in front of his face. The sight of him there, between your legs, both captivating and overwhelming.

The wet tip of his tongue peaks from within his kiss-bruised lips.

Before you know it, you’re completely undone. A mess. Leon's tongue turns your body into a temple of pleasure; his movements sinuous and calculated. With each flick and swirl of his tongue, he's coaxing you to heights of ecstasy.

His tongue traces every inch of your throbbing cunt, flicking and teasing your clit as you squirm beneath him, one hand grasping his soft hair while the other squeezes your breast. His fingers, thick and rough, plunge deep inside of you, finding all the right spots to drive you wild. Each thrust of his hand sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you moan and writhe with need.

"Such a fucking filthy little thing," he growls against your skin, the heat of his breath making you shiver. He devours you with his mouth and hands, taking you to the brink of ecstasy and back again; fingers scissoring and pumping, working you over until you're a quivering mess of desire.

The blunt pressure of the tips of his fingers pressing mildly against your inner walls sending pinnacles of bliss across your body until you’re mewling at the sharp pleasure that ripples down your spine.

You claw at the sheets, unable to control the waves of sensation that crash over you.

And then, with a final, shuddering gasp, you let yourself go, your body convulsing in waves of pure pleasure. Ecstasy; Leon’s name a sweetened melody on the tip of your tongue.

He stands up afterwards, a towering figure before your eyes. Your aching legs fall from his shoulders onto the bed. Leon looms over you, appearing almost god-like, a divine being sent to ravage you with its passion.

Disposing of his shirt, you lay on the bed motionless, senses on high and in anticipation as you watch the man strip. With every article of clothing that comes off, Leon’s body reveals itself in all its glory. Shoulders and chest sculptured, shaped by years of intense training. Someone who’s worked hard to achieve such a physique. Rippling muscles that flex with every movement he makes. His arms thick with veins and biceps that bulge with raw strength, capable of holding you up effortlessly. You can see every ridge of his abs, each one chiseled to perfection.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he rasps after ridding himself of the last article while you shamelessly stare at Leon’s sheer size and the strength of him.

“Very much,” you breathe out when he crawls on top of you.

His cock rests atop your stomach, heavy and pulsing with need; leaking as he marks you in his precum. Yet, neither of you moves. Unbothered, you remain locked in his gaze before his lips capture yours in a short passionate kiss. Drawn together by the irresistible pull of gravity, your lips meet in a collision of desire and longing.

Legs wrapping high around his waist, his hand leaves the side of your neck and travels the side of your body, igniting a trail of heat as it goes. Leon strokes the length of your thigh, only stopping when his fingers rest under your knee momentarily. Then you feel the blunt tip press against your aching cunt. The anticipation inside you unravels like a tightly wound spool, releasing a flood of sensations that spreads throughout your body.

“Ready?” he breathes out; his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against yours once again.

The silky texture of his hair brush against your fingertips. Legs tightening around his upper body, you pull him closer to you. “Yeah.”

The pressure against your throbbing cunt intensifies as Leon presses forward. The crown of his cock splits you open with ease, enveloping him. Welcoming him eagerly in your wet heat. As if he belongs there.

Leon’s touch’s electric, sending shivers down your spine as he claims you with each bite and kiss. His teeth graze your chin, softly nibbling at the skin as he lets out a guttural grunt. Keeping one hand on the side of your neck, possessive and tender, surely to feel the rapid pulse of your jugular vein, he hooks his thumb underneath your jaw and pushes upwards.

When your head is tilted upwards enough to his satisfaction, his lips latch on the front of your neck. Small, quick bites decorate the stretched skin. Followed by a wet kiss, he sucks on the skin. Vulnerable and exposed.

Moans cascade from your lips, an ode to his cock splitting you apart slowly. A divine intrusion into your depths, filling you.

He stills when he’s buried balls deep inside of you; bottoms out in your quivering walls, slick with post-orgasmic arousal.

The feeling of fullness, of being completely filled, is almost too much to bear. Your breath hitches in your throat, body trembling with pleasure as it strains to accommodate him; to make enough space to take him in.

Your eyes flatter shut as he waits, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hand cups the underside of your breast with his thumb teasing your nipple in a leisurely manner.

A moment of content falls between you. Bodies molded together; two halves of a whole.

After a few seconds, you press the sole of your feet into his skin, feeling the taunt muscle contract underneath you.

A subtle but unmistakable gesture. A wordless plea for more.

A fuck me of sorts.

Your body speaks volumes, a language he's learned to decipher. And with a low growl, he responds to your invitation. A low roll of his hips. A test of your readiness. It becomes a measured beat that tests your strength, the pressure of his cock firmly pressed against the walls of your cervix.

It has you sent into a harmonious frenzy.

Leon continues with the rhythm. Relishing in the tight squeeze of your cunt, in the way you sing for him, his name a sacred hymn on your lips. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure courses through you.

His hands sear a blazing trail on your burning flesh. Every touch feels as if he’s branding you, etching himself onto your skin.

The wetness of his lips causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. Moving like a reverent prayer. Worship of your body as his tongue swipes over your sensitive nipples.

Your name escapes his lips and is met with a low moan.

Tantalizing and peaceful.

Leon’s unhurried movements slowly transform into something more. Rough and hasty. Teeth nibbling at your jawline, feeling the bone underneath the skin, your nails bite into the tight muscle of his shoulder blades. Surely to leave indents that will bloom into bruises and marks. Your back arch, offering yourself up to him as you focus on meeting his thrusts.

As his hand wanders down the length of your body, his fingers dance along the curves of your waist and hips before grazing the globes of your ass; giving it a rough squeeze before wrapping his fingers under your knee and pulling away from your neck.

Meanwhile, his other hand braces his body weight by your face. Leon’s fingers entwine around your ankle. Pushing your leg up and over his shoulder, you moan over the painful stretch of your hamstring as he gazes at you.

He moves with a frenzied urgency. Lowering himself to rest on his elbows, his fingers find their way to your clit.

The way he flicks over the sensitive nub elicits a series of moans and cries from you only to be silenced by his lips crashing onto yours.

The kiss is wet and messy. Hungry. Both of you eager to take and dominate, his tongue dancing with yours in a frenzied manner.

It's like he's a man possessed, lost in the rhythm of his movements and the feel of your body beneath him. You writhe and moan, lost in a haze of sensation and desire as he takes you higher towards that ultimate release. That sweet orgasm. Every motion is a symphony, a perfect blend of power and finesse, as he explores the contours of your body with a deep hunger.

Mind becoming blurry, your senses are consumed by the raw, primal desire Leon elicits with his thrusts. Moving to brace himself better, it feels impossible when you feel the blunt pressure hit even deeper than before. Gasping, you move your hips, trying to take him as deep as possible.

The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, and you can hear the sound of skin slapping against the skin as Leon moves with increasing speed and intensity. His determination to tear you apart only grows each time your hips meet, sending bolts of electricity throughout your every cell. His thumb flicks over your clit, applying pressure and circling the aching bud until you’re quivering underneath the mass of a man above you. Inside you.

The sound of his grunts and moans blends into a symphony of pleasure, each note building up the tension within you. You feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption, bubbling with molten passion until it finally snaps. Erupts.

A tidal wave of pleasure washes over you. Sweeping you in a vortex of delight. A thousand stars explode in your mind, each one brighter than the last, painting your vision with vibrant colors. Your body convulses, spasming in rhythm with the waves of pleasure that ripple through you.

Gasps leave your lips. Desperate for air, you cling to Leon, whose thrusts never wavered. Whose fingers continue to tease your clit, now throbbing and exploding with sensitivity. His eyes lock on yours, lips parted with low moans escaping from between before you bring his face down to you, swallowing each cry of pleasure but eventually, he pulls away.

You watch as Leon’s eyes snap shut, brows furrowing in pleasure as he stills. His full length buried inside of your spasming cunt, filling you up with his cum.

Your body’s spent. Yet your mind’s still reeling from the sheer intensity as Leon remains buried inside; his breath ragged and uneven before he pulls out with measured slowness, teasing your oversensitive clit with a gentle tap. You shudder at the sensation of him trickling out of you.

“Hi.”

The simple word leaves your mouth in a breathless whisper. A mere welcome that was meant to be addressed when he first entered your home instead of now. A warmth spreads through your body, settling low in your belly as you take in the sight of him; the way his blond hair falls across his forehead, resembling a halo of an angel. Cheeks tinted in light pink and lips curved into a small smile as he looks at you.

“Hi.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #i feel like i should be ashamed of myself #influenced by sin #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x y/n #resident evil 2: remake #moni writes #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy imagine #resident evil 2 imagine #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil fanfic #smut #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 #residentevil4remake #resident evil 4 remake

[upsidedownwithsteve]

shy reader with Eddie first time??

It wasn’t expected, even though it’d been a few months.

It had taken weeks of dating Eddie before you’d plucked up the courage to tell him mid kiss that you were a virgin. You’d pulled back from him like you’d been set on fire, suddenly terrified that he’d hand you back your shirt and grimace at your confession. He didn’t, of course.

No, the boy had blinked, eyes widening in surprise at your sudden outburst before he softened, kissing over your cheeks and nose before dragging a hand up and down one bare arm. It was soothing, the way he touched you, so different to the way he’d been starting to rock his hips into the cradle of yours as he licked into your mouth, but the latter made you melt just as much as the first.

Embarrassment and pent up anxiety disappeared with each pass of his palm over your skin and you felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t harbouring some sort of secret from him. Eddie had smiled, all lovely and soft and he nodded.

“That’s alright,” he’d whispered. “I’m ready whenever you are, babe— if you are.” He swallowed, pressed a thumb to your cheek as he caught your chin, gentle. “There’s no rush, yeah?”

So a few more weeks had passed and Eddie had learned more about you and the way you liked to be kissed and touched, how you were still a little shy and quiet about your wants, how he could coax them out of you best. His favourite was to get you all breathy and whiny, fingers crooked nicely inside you, kissing you too sweet for the way his thumb was rubbing at your clit.

He liked to draw it out, keep you on the edge until you gave in and told him what you needed, whispering against your jaw how you were too pretty, too sweet, how you should be demanding what you wanted from him.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured to you, “there’s no one here but us, you can talk to me, huh?”

You were tucked into the crook of his arm, pressed between Eddie and the wall beside his bed, the sheets halfway down your bare legs and the boy’s Slayer T-shirt rucked up your ribs. The day had long been gone, the pink-red glow of Eddie’s desk lamp lighting the room in a haze. You were indecently exposed, Eddie’s fingers pulling your underwear aside so he could trace wet circles around your entrance, grinning at the slick there.

He liked making you messy, lips pouting, eyes hazy, cheeks warm with the exertion of it all. Your hands were curled around his forearm, your face pressed to his shoulder as you whined. Eddie waited for you to ask him to give you his fingers, maybe if he could use his mouth, if you were particularly bold and the lights were dimmed enough.

Instead:

“Eddie?” You were whispering, voice a rasp, eyes fluttering as you tried to keep them open. “Eddie? Can we—? You can, god, I wanna—”

Eddie slowed to a stop, hand slipping from your underwear to splay over your tummy instead. He could feel you breathing hard, the way your body heaved with pleasure. “What d’you want, baby, huh?” Eddie leaned in, nose rubbing against your own and his voice was softer, losing that teasing edge as he encouraged you to voice what you wanted. “You can tell me, you know I’ll give it to you.”

It wasn’t even a line. Not the way Eddie said it. Earnest and soft, voice cracking a little with the emotion behind it all and he gazed down at you, brown eyes sincere and glassy.

You sucked in a breath, staring right back at him, face tilted up so you could press into him, mouth grazing over his chin before you could kiss his lips.

“I want you,” you told him and you were surprised he could hear you with how quiet you were. Your heart felt louder, a thumpthumpthump against your chest that you were sure was rattling your bones. Maybe Eddie could hear it too. “I want you, Teddy.”

The boy smiled, that slow stretch of a grin that made something in your stomach flip and flutter and he leaned down to kiss you back, sweet and unassuming. “You have me, baby,” he said it like there was no question about it.

But you sat up suddenly, lace bra and bare skin pressed to his chest as you leaned over him, a shaky hand searching in his nightstand drawer until you felt what you were looking for. You held the foil square in front of him, lips pressed together between your teeth and Eddie swore, low and hoarse, like he couldn’t keep it in.

“Now?” He croaked.

“Is that… is that not okay?” You shrunk back with doubt and nerves, wondering if for whatever reason, Eddie didn’t actually want to have sex with you.

You weren’t sure what gave away your panic. Maybe the widening of your eyes, the flash of regret there, the way your mouth parted in a quiet sigh. Maybe it was the way your hand faltered, the way you folded the condom into your fist like you could hide the fact it existed. Whatever it was, Eddie immediately soothed it with wide, warm hands on your jaw, cradling your face as he shook his head, eyes wider than your own.

“Baby, baby,” Eddie urged softly. “Heyheyhey, c’mere, get outta there, huh? Lemme see you, pretty girl.” The boy urged you out from where you’d curled yourself into his side, face hidden in his neck. He swept a hand over your cheek, letting you cling to him instead. “That’s completely okay.”

He swallowed, throat bobbing as he tried to keep it together. “That’s completely and totally and utterly okay. More than that, yeah?” He grinned and it was a nervous smile, all boyish and bravado. “I just didn’t expect it. And I don’t wanna rush you, sweetheart.”

You unfurled yourself, feeling braver at his words. “You’re not rushing me,” you told him and with one last deep breath, you passed the foil packet to him, pressed it into his own palm and smiled. “I trust you.”

…

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie baby blurb

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY (5/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: barcelona sets its sights on the champions league; things between you and ona unfold in the way they were always going to.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: LAST PART LAST PART WOOOO ALSO THIS GIF IS KILLING ME

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV

Barcelona won its first game back from winter break. It wasn’t the first one this season, but everyone was glad the team managed to hold onto the momentum over break. Though you didn’t score, you felt like you started to understand how to pass, how to move, how to bring the ball forward effectively the Barça way.

Things were finally starting to look up for you at your new club.

In training one day, you were paired up with Aitana for a short passing drill, and she quickly took the opportunity to inquire about you and Ona.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“¿¡Por qué no?!” Aitana exclaimed, earning a few turns of heads from several teammates around. “I was the one to tell you to say something, no?”

You blew raspberry and looked down at the ball rolling between your feet. In truth, you haven’t talked to Ona about that night. Unlike the last time, though, there wasn’t an air of animosity around it. You wanted to kiss her really badly, but you also knew starting something then wasn’t the best idea. You and her both needed to concentrate on getting the team through this slump, and it was more crucial than ever that you did.

“You make it really hard for me, you know that?” You had told her, a quiet confession.

You remembered her smiling. “You don’t make it easy for me either. Every time I see you, I try so hard not to pull you to me and kiss you.”

You chuckled and dropped your head, hiding the warmth creeping up your neck. “Well, try harder.” You brushed her nose with the tip of your finger and stood up. “Our team needs us. We can’t . . . be distracted.”

“Can’t we be selfish just once?” Her tone was light and teasing, but when she leaned back against the bed, there was a darker sincerity in her eyes. Her elbows supported her weight, as her toned legs dangled off the bed. You had almost scoffed at how good she looked, and how much you wanted to pounce on her.

Swiftly, you snatched a pillow and threw it at her, earning an offended gasp from the girl. You watched her face shift, then, when you leaned down and kissed her cheek. Pulling back, you smirked. “Happy?”

Grabbing your pajamas which were draped over a chair, you quickly got out of the room and headed to the shower where, under the running water, you repeatedly told yourself to snap out of it. That night, you still fell asleep in the same bed as her. In the morning, your head was nuzzled in her neck, and your arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

You asked how long she had been staring at you, watching you sleep. Ona couldn’t resist a smirk, telling you she didn’t want to wake you up.

You had hoped she couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating, but then again your chest was pressed into her side. You felt the overwhelming urge to pull away, alarm bells ringing in your head to sober up from your slumber and pull away. You were controlled by an invisible fear. In all of your nightly interactions with the many people that have warmed your bed, you had never felt so vulnerable than in that moment before, or since.

You could see her freckles so clearly from here. There were plenty, like a constellation of stars, but the only difference was you would lay there and count each and every one of them. Slowly, you brushed the pad of your thumb over them, and she let you, closing her eyes.

“Stardust,” you whispered quietly, feeling her skin under your finger.

Ona’s heart burned like a thousand fires watching you as you admired her, three heavy words weighing down on the tip of her tongue.

They went unsaid when you got up to go brush your teeth, over the table at breakfast, when her mom hugged you both goodbye and even when she dropped you off at your place a few hours later.

The team was playing away in Valencia on Saturday night. Right after that, on Wednesday, you would be playing the second Champions League quarterfinal leg in London. It was going to be a stressful week, but you needed to get your head in it because this week would determine the rest of the season in the league and in the prestigious European competition.

When Valencia led 1-0 at halftime, the more the clock ran out the more the team was desperate to win, or at least get a point back.

Alexia was holding the ball, as everyone moved over to Valencia’s side of the pitch; the latter was now only concerned with defending their three points. You waited for the defenders around to get distracted and made a run for it. Fridolina received the ball and fed it to you, but the angle was too narrow and the ball bounced off the net.

Chances were coming, and you were getting much closer to an equalizer.

A corner ensued, and you were at the near-post. The ball was sent in straight towards the goalkeeper, but you thought you could manage it. The goalkeeper was beelining for the ball and headed straight towards you with her fists out ready to punch the ball away, but you were faster. 1-1.

The adrenaline rushed to your head as you ran to celebrate with your teammates.

Only when the ball was rolling again did you feel lightheaded, and were on the ground before you knew it. The referee’s whistle rang out, and several of her teammates rushed over to you, as did Ona.

She saw the way your steps slowed as you were walking back to the middle, your head hung low. The way you fell to the ground, Ona could only compare it to a jet running out of fuel and free-falling. It was as if your legs gave out under you.

“Y/N? Joder, Y/N. Fisio!” She knelt beside you, yelling to the sidelines.

Thankfully, you were able to move, turning to your side, and hiding your face in the grass.

“It’s okay, Y/N. They’re coming,” Ona breathed heavily and squeezed your shoulder.

You have had collisions that knocked the air out of you before, but this time you knew it was much more severe than that. You suddenly didn’t quite know where you were, or why all these people were gathering around and peering down at you. All you knew was there was one face that made it all okay, one that you reached for and never wanted to let go.

There were physios coming to check the reflexes in your eyes; you were fine, it was just really, really bright. You were helped to sit up, seeing stars as you did, like cartoon characters when they suffer concussions. You looked over to that beautiful face, the one that appeared in your dreams like a plague, and you were okay. Though you didn’t know what was happening, Ona made you feel brave.

You regained clearheadedness after a few minutes, the symptoms had seemingly subsided. You signaled that you could continue (you really thought you could) but Esmee was already getting ready on the sideline to come in for you.

“Y/N, you did well today,” Ona approached you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “You were brilliant. We’ll take care of this.”

She said and gave you a kiss on the side of your head before sending you off with a pat on your back. You smiled gracefully at her and walked towards the bench. The unheard of happened then, as you made out applause ringing out from the Barcelona section of the stands, as people stood out and whistled for you.

You spent the rest of the game in the dressing room, watching the game from a TV. The lights had been dimmed for you to lessen the side effects of the concussion. When the rest of the team returned victorious, you cracked a smile. Your teammates surrounded you to check on your well-being, one in particular was the quickest to sit next to you.

“They clapped for me when I came off,” you said with a smile. “The fans.”

“Yes, they did,” Ona grasped your hand. “Because you deserved it.”

Barcelona came back from a deficit to win 3-2, earning a crucial three points in the title race.

“Arsenal is a very different team now than when we met them last, girls,” Jonatan stood at the front of the conference room. He played the next clip. “The one thing we’ll have to keep in mind is that they prefer passing and progressive carrying. They’ll have holding midfielders that will transition the formation from defending to attacking, so Williamson, Little, Wälti. Whoever that pivot player ends up being, if we cut her off on the high press, we cut off the supply going forward.”

As Coach was explaining tactics, you quietly turned around toward where Ona was sitting. The moment her gaze landed on you, the corner of her lips lifted. You mirrored her smile, and looked back at the projector, pulling your hoodie up past your lips to hide your cheeks heating up.

After the briefing, you walked towards the dining room to have lunch when your phone buzzed with a notification. You had just received an Instagram DM from an account that you hadn’t looked at in a long time, mainly because there would be nothing to see, as you were blocked.

Hi! I heard you’ll be in town this week for a game. Any chance we could go grab a coffee and chat? Sent 11:04am

“Hey, you coming to lunch?” Ona asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second,” you said quickly and typed a reply.

On Tuesday, a couple of hours after you landed in London, you made your way towards the little café the address of which you had been sent. Just before entering the coffee shop, you exhaled sharply and wiped your palms on your pants before pulling the door open. Leena was already seated at a table, a cup in front of her.

“Hey,” you hugged her. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Y/N,” she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed you tightly. “You look good.”

You let out a snort. “Yeah, Barcelona tends to do that to ya.”

You sat on the opposite side of the table, after going to order a small coffee.

“I heard you got a concussion last game,” Leena asked, concerned.

“Oh, that.” You waved it off. “I’m fine. I’ve seen better days, but it’s all a part of it. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good,” Leena smiled. “I . . . I had to step away to . . . put things into perspective.”

You nodded slowly and sighed. “Leena, the way I handled things, I’m just so deeply ashamed of it. I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I should have known better than to pursue someone who isn’t ready yet. I tend to do that.”

“Still, I mean . . . That’s not who I am, and I never meant to hurt you or lead you on like that.”

Quickly leaning forward to grasp your hand, she whispered, “It’s okay”. You nodded and smiled gratefully. Leena never made you feel less than whenever you bore your emotions to her, and it was no exception this time.

You started chatting about work, learning that Leena wanted to go back to school for a master’s in cinematography. You told her about your new club, and how much harder it was to live up to expectations than you thought. By the end of your little meeting, you had told her pretty much everything that was going on within the past year.

You said goodbye about an hour later, but not before asking if she wanted to come to the game the following night. “Sure,” she said. “Should be fun.”

Leaving the café with a smile, you called an Uber back to your hotel just in time for dinner with the team, where Ona was already waiting for you in the lobby.

“Hey,” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” The girl quickly ascended from her seat on the couch. “I texted but you didn’t answer, so I got worried.”

“Oh,” you pulled out your phone to see said unread messages from Ona. “I’m sorry. I was meeting up with a friend, and I usually put my phone on silent for stuff like that.”

“I see,” Ona chewed on her lower lip. “Well, it’s dinner time. Come.”

As you walked, you looked down at your joined hands that she nonchalantly initiated, and blushed. You ignored the knowing look a couple of your teammates sent your way when you walked into the hotel dining room.

“Hey, good luck out there today,” you found Ona in the dressing room before the game, and decided to offer your support.

“Thanks. Are you cleared to play today?”

“Yeah, later though. Just to be sure,” you explained.

Though you were cleared by the physios to travel to London with the team, Jonatan wanted to be sure that you weren’t overexerting yourself by playing the 90 minutes, but you were assured that you would be subbed on in the second half.

Ona nodded tentatively. “Hey, Y/N. I just wanted to say—“

“Y/N!”

The voice outside the dressing room made you turn around.

“Leena, hi! You made it!”

Then you were gone, walking out and greeting the woman she saw with you in Ibiza. Ona clenched her jaw, listening to your animated conversation in the hallway, not she had no right to infringe upon your other relationships. But she didn’t know where you stood with Leena, nor where she stood with you, and it made her nervous.

She had spent the last few months trying to make you feel her love, hoping that you would answer her and give her your heart.

You were you, though, and maybe she would never be enough to make you commit. She had messed it up before, and while you had forgiven her, you had made no effort to progress past a friendship.

She had been ready to take on Arsenal mere minutes before, now she felt dejected and beyond embarrassed.

It was an easy win for Barcelona. You managed to score again, a screamer from outside the box, and the fans went wild for your seemingly return to form.

After the game walked towards where Ona was near the stands, greeting fans, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Nice work today,” you said.

Ona only glanced at you shortly with a small smile before turning back to the fans to sign their shirts.

Your smile faded for a split second, but it returned when Leena approached you. You didn’t realize Ona was sneaking glares at the back of your head, wishing you would just notice how desperate she was to get you alone.

That night, you were back in the hotel room you shared with Patri when you heard a knock at the door.

“Hi,” you couldn’t hide the slight inflection in your voice when you discovered that the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Patri coming back from Claudia’s room where she said she would be, but Ona.

“Hi,” she mumbled, her hands hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping aside to let her in. You caught a whiff of her shampoo as she walked past you, and the comfortable way in which she dressed suddenly made your heart beat wildly.

“Are you feeling well?” You rubbed your hands together nervously, an impending question already burned into the back of your mind. “You were just quiet after the game, and I wasn’t sure whether you’d hurt yourself.”

Ona pulled on her sleeves, and timidly sat at the edge of your bed, swinging her legs back and forth. “Just wanted to come see you,” she shrugged.

You hated not being able to read her, not knowing what she was thinking. You guessed your relationship has always been like that, hiding how you really felt and continuing this façade you both had decided was the only thing that could work.

You didn’t know, but what you knew was you were tired of pretending.

“What are we to each other?” Her question tore you from your thoughts.

Well, that was certainly one way to do it. You were still standing in the middle of the room, unsure of where to go or sit.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” You answered. “We support each other, we have each other’s backs.”

“That girl you were with, are you seeing her?” Her quiet voice, in addition to the slight frown she sported made her so endearing. You hadn’t seen her so open, so vulnerable ever since the night you spent with her after Spain lost out on the Euros. But maybe then you might have missed all the signs.

“No,” you shook your head. “We’re friends. She helped me a lot after everything went down between us.”

She nodded, looking away. You still didn’t know what she was thinking, and it was driving you crazy.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You smirked, wanting to lighten the mood, but the despairing look on her face remained.

Feeling bold, you took a seat next to her on the bed. “What is it, Ona?”

She drew a breath, still refusing to look at you and opting to look at your hands instead. “I don’t want to be just friends.”

You let the silence hang because you weren’t sure if those words actually just left her mouth.

They did, because she followed up, “I want to have you to myself. I want you all the time. Every time I see you, it’s like I can’t function until you talk to me. I don’t know where we stand and it’s honestly tearing me apart. I know I sound clingy and pathetic, but I think I’m in love with you.”

You heard her repeat the last part under her breath, as if affirming to herself, as if finally saying it out loud was the hardest thing to do.

Your heart was hammering in its cage. You held her gaze when she looked up, her eyes were dull and sad and lost, despite having just won a Champions League match.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” You cracked a tiny smile. “Almost five years. That day when we played against each other for the first time in Manchester. I singled you out, I pushed your buttons because I wanted to get your attention from the moment we met. I wanted you to notice me because I liked you.”

You knew it was a selfish thing to do, but it was the only way you knew for sure that her eyes were on you. And on you they were.

Ona perked up, grinning softly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Her pinkie was hooked with yours at your side. “I want to try us. I promise I won’t let you down this time,” she said quietly, and instead of looking away, she held your gaze firmly.

“Okay.” There was nothing else.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and brought your hand up to glide over her cheek lightly.

Her lips parted slightly. You could see the way her chest rose and fell before she lunged at you, cupping your jaw and pressing her lips against yours.

You let out a quiet groan at the sensation of her bruising kiss. You let her do whatever she wanted, even when she shoved you down on the bed and got on top of you, kissing, touching, and feeling everywhere, you let her, because it had been too long.

At some point, you had managed to flip her over, keeping eye contact as you kissed down along her body. She always liked it when you took your time worshipping her as you did now, holding your gaze and encouraging you to keep going. Once in a while, she would throw her head back and mumble breathless profanities in her native tongue, giving you a good look at her defined jawline.

You might have known her body inside and out from the time you spent with her, but this time it felt different. There was love in every tug, every kiss, every look she gave you. You found yourself in a trance and let your body tangle with hers in ways you were too afraid to have done before; afraid it was too affectionate, too intimate, too personal.

By the time you were done, she was whimpering, her eyes closed shut, and her skin was damp and hot to the touch.

Resting your chin on her stomach, you watched her come down. When she finally opened her eyes, it took one look for the both of you to burst out into laughter.

Your laughs died down, and suddenly you felt shy again. As if having read your mind, Ona pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“When we’re back in Barcelona, I’m taking you out on a date,” she whispered.

A couple of hours later, Patri, upon entering the room, decided to grab her charger and return to Claudia and Ona’s room. She found the both of you sound asleep, tangled up in bed together, and decided to leave you be.

“But why do I have to do the press conference? Why can’t Caro or Alexia do it?” You groaned. “No one cares what I have to say.”

“Of course they do,” Toni responded. “Y/N, I might be biased, but you are one of the best players of this half of the season in the team, if not the league. You’re Barcelona’s new gem.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you muttered.

“People will want to hear from you. Plus, it’s good—“

“—publicity, yeah, I know.” You hunched over and adjusted your position on the couch. “Ughhh . . .” You groaned loudly and dragged your hands down your face. “Fine.”

Toni proceeded to run you over things you should say, things you shouldn’t say, things you should absolutely avoid at all costs. You half-listened to the rest of it because you felt the couch dip beside you, and a sneaky hand creeping up and down your back.

You ended the phone call with another sigh. The hand that calmed you proceeded to inch towards your nape, caressing the skin there.

“I thought you liked doing press.”

“No one likes doing press,” you grumbled.

You looked up from your moping and over your shoulder, and the sight of Ona made you smile. She always managed to make you forget about everything wrong in the world, and crave the warmth of her touch. When she wore one of her snuggly hoodies as she did now, the heat under the fabric made her chest and embrace extra warm.

“You’ll do great, hermosa,” she held you close to her, giggling at the feeling of your face buried deep in her neck. “Besides, what is it you always say? ‘All in a day’s work’?”

You grinned and kissed her cheek. “I hate it when you use my shtick against me.”

“No, you love it,” Ona kissed you quickly, but you held her by the collar of her sweatshirt and savored her lips a little longer.

“I was thinking,” you said slowly. “Since you already know the code for the front door, and you’re always here anyway, why don’t you move in?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. For a split second, the silence caused a familiar pang in your heart from all the times she had turned you down. There was a moment when you imagined the worst to happen, that she would run for the hills again and leave you to pick up the pieces by yourself. But it was different this time; the circumstances were different, you both were different.

“No pressure at all. I just—It was just a suggestion—“

“Okay,” she breathed quietly. “But after the season is over.”

You let a wide grin spread across your face. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Ona smiled and tapped your nose lovingly. “Now, come on. I’ll help you practice for your big press conference.”

You groaned and sunk back into the couch, but you knew you would be able to distract her from putting you through this torture if you picked your moments right. There were no more barriers between the two of you, and kisses were expendable.

“Hello, Y/N. My question to you is, ‘How do you judge your opponent coming into this match, and are you confident that you’ll be walking home with your first Champions League after tomorrow?’” “I think that Chelsea is a formidable team, there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind about that. As for if I think we can win; yes, I think so. I’m confident in my teammates’ abilities, and I know that I’ll be giving 110% into tomorrow’s match. So, yes, we are going into this match to win.” “Obviously, you’re surrounded by World Cup finalists at Barça. What is it like playing with some of the more experienced and decorated players on this team in particular?” “It’s a wonderful environment for me as a young professional in this sport, to have that support system in my own club. I enjoy every second that I get to play alongside and learn from my teammates. No matter who it is, finalist or not, I’ve been able to learn from everyone I play with.” “You’ve had an admittedly rocky start to your spell at Barcelona, but have since improved a lot from what we’ve seen in the return leg of the season. Do you think you have fully integrated yourself into the Barça system?” “As a player, I’m very fortunate to have had the club’s, the coach’s, and my teammates’ trust as I familiarized myself with the system. I will say, I’m much more confident in my role at the club now than I was at the start of the season, and I just hope to continue to do well with the team, and we’ll see how it goes.”

All 50,000 spectators of the Estadio José Alvade roused into cheers as the whistle blew. Chelsea got the ball rolling in motion, and, already, some of its finest attackers planted themselves deep into Barcelona’s defense, waiting for their moment to reap their rewards.

It was a long back-and-forth for the next 20 minutes, and both teams were not willing to risk it in the opening minutes of the game. But then a wild attempt by Lauren James from outside the box left the ball unattended after Sandra pushed it out. Sam Kerr did what she always did best, and tapped it in. 0-1.

“Shit,” you muttered, seeing Jonatan shouting to Aitana and Patri to change tactics.

You hoped Chelsea couldn’t pick up on the franticness at which Barcelona picked up the ball again. All four players of the backline were on Chelsea’s side of the pitch, Irene, being the deepest, also just barely skirting above the halfway line.

The possession paid off though, as after a long period of tiki-taka, you found an opening for Mariona, who took the shot and sent it past Zećira Mušović into the net. 1-1.

If you could choose, you would always prefer counterattacks over possession plays, in which you could use your speed and dribble to explode; your opponents always feared it when you did. But possession was how Jonatan wanted the team to play then, and Chelsea must have anticipated that. Ève Périsset won the ball back inside the box and lobbed it across the pitch to Guro Reiten, who made the run far before anyone could catch up to her. Mapi was fast, but at her fastest she was still trailing behind her, watching powerlessly as Guro glided past Sandra coming out and passed the ball into an empty net. 1-2.

You could see some of your teammates’ spirits crumbling. Mapi was cursing under her breath as she hid her face under her shirt.

Your eyes landed on Ona walking back to the halfway line, hyping your teammates up. There was a time when she would be doing to her own teammates after you scored against her. You thought it was selfish of you to feel glad that she was doing it for you now.

“Come on, Y/N,” she clapped her hands a few times. “We got this. We’re almost there.”

She was right, you’ve suffered worse deficits, and you wouldn’t be where you were if you didn’t help your team emerge victorious from them.

The dressing room was still as the night at halftime, only the sound of cleats shuffling and the occasional water bottle caps closing were heard.

You sat in your designated spot, taking deep inhales to catch your breath, slapping your teammates’ hands as they walked in. You low-fived Ingrid before she made her way over to where Mapi sat, her head hanging low in her hand.

The team hadn’t been playing well since the beginning of the match. Maybe it was the underestimation of Chelsea’s abilities or their opening goal that caught everyone off-guard. Whatever it was, the team hasn’t recovered.

“Come on, girls,” Jonatan said in the dressing room. “We’re down by one. One. We’ve come back from worse.”

He proceeded to go over tactics again, this time using the wingers as the main force of attack. Since Chelsea would most likely park the bus now that they were in the lead, he wanted to take initiative and penetrate the defense, only the one thing you were very good at.

Ona sat down next to you, huffing a breath and leaning back against the wall. Her eyes fluttered close, and her cheeks were flushed. You thought about running your hand along her face down her neck were you in private, instead, you squeezed her knees and offered her a smile when she opened her eyes again.

“You okay?” How selfish of her to ask if you were okay when if anything, she was the only person holding this team together at this point. Out of everyone during the first 45 minutes, Ona had done her job to the very best of her abilities, and it was a lifeline to the team.

When it was time to return to the pitch, you walked to her with your heart in your hands. “Ona,” you touched her arm, “I love you.”

Your heart hammered as the corner of her lips pulled up, her brows twitching with a sympathetic look. “I love you too,” she leaned into you, “very much.”

You hoped no one noticed how wide you were smiling too, but you also hoped they did. You wanted to shout it out loud for all 50,000 people in the stadium to hear how much love you had for Ona.

“I wish you had told me that earlier, so I can kiss you,” she said.

“Later,” you grinned. “You can kiss me as much as you want.”

Summer never lasted as long as you wanted it to. Gone were the days of sunny beachside margaritas, and bonfire nights at local bars. Ona had taken you to a secluded spot off the coast of Morocco, and for two weeks straight, it was beach, drinking, the occasional sightseeing, and lots of sex. It was the first time the two of you were able to truly be alone without any distractions after you started seeing each other officially, and you couldn’t be happier that it happened the way it did.

You had been back with the team for a couple of weeks, and as much as you missed your much-needed summer vacation, you missed playing more.

“Behind you! Here, here!”

“Body language, girls! Let’s go!”

You sat on the grass, catching your breath after your first successful practice of the season.

“Getting up any time soon, partner?” You heard Ona call next to you before a water bottle was tossed onto your legs.

You grabbed the bottle and squirted some water onto her legs, but she remained unfazed with that stupid smirk on her face. “Ooh, recreating last night’s activities now, aren’t we? You know it should be more than that.”

You let out a laugh and pulled her down next to you. “Since when do you make the dirty jokes?”

“Since I started spending way too much time with you, apparently.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” Ona’s voice lowered as she leaned in, “not in the slightest.”

“Ey, tórtolitos (lovebirds)!” Aitana’s voice rang out. “Coach has an announcement to make. Vamos!”

You sighed. “Remind me why telling the team that we’re dating was a good idea again?”

“For one, it would stop all the pestering,” Ona pecked your lips and stood up before offering a hand. “Come on, tórtola. Time waits for no one, not even for new Champions League winners.”

You didn’t expect things to turn out the way they did when you first saw her across the pitch years ago, but you were glad that they did, and better than you could have ever hoped.

You took Ona’s hand gingerly, swinging it back and forth, getting used to the feeling, because you intended on having it with you forever. If Ona came with it too, that's fine by you, you supposed.

The Athletic: A Star Is Born — Y/N Y/L/N’s Barcelona Start and Road to First Champions League “Y/N Y/L/N is the kind of player every club would benefit from having,” said former Manchester City captain Vincent Kompany in the summer of 2020, days before news of Y/L/N’s signing was announced. “She is a star in the making.” Y/L/N came up within the ranks of Portland Thorns before getting picked up at Man City, helping the club to its first-ever WUCL participation. But it was at Barcelona that she was able to realize her potential. And then, in the 94th of the Champions League final, she scored and sealed a third European championship for Barcelona. After a tumultuous season which sees Barcelona barely clinch the league title for the sixth year in a row, Y/N Y/L/N emerged a key player at La Blaugrana, a sure-fire Ballon d’Or contender in October, and one of the most prolific forwards within the game—and she’s only 23. […]”

a/n: WOOP WOOP!! we made it guys, we've reached the end. if you've read everything up until now, i sincerely thank you for coming along on this journey of self-indulgence lol. we'll say goodbye to y/n and ona and let them ride off into the sunset and continue to slay at barcelona. once again, thank you for reading, more woso fics coming soon! for now, delfiore over and out 🫡

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle angst