#i'm not someone who can write thousands of words no sweat

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

am i about to drop the mockumentary fic just to get encouragement to finish it/continue in this direction because i am weak? or will i finish it and then post it? only my depression and anxiety can tell us the answer. things are getting out of hand

#knights meeting #i'm going back and forth on this so much #it's silly #i think my comedy fic accidentally has too much plot #i'm not someone who can write thousands of words no sweat #it takes a lot to get me here #and this is the most i've even written for one fic i think #so when i say it's getting out of hand i mean in a convoluted sort of way not number wise #i'm only now getting to 7k words #fic: life inside the ministry of magic

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?

"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."

The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.

"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."

The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.

"My lord," the guard said.

As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.

"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."

The hero said nothing.

The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.

The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.

The villain froze.

The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.

"Guards!" the villain yelled.

The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.

"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"

"I - my lord?"

"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.

"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"

Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.

The guards fell silent.

"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."

"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"

The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.

"What?" the villain snapped.

"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."

The power struck in an instant.

The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.

"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.

"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."

Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.

The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.

The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.

"Who are you?" the villain demanded.

The hero shrugged.

The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."

"I'm your tailor's assistant."

"...excuse me?"

"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"

The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.

"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."

The hero shrugged again.

The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."

"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."

The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.

"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.

The hero resisted the urge to swallow.

The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.

They looked up at their guards.

"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"

They definitely should have ran faster.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #fantasy #writing #short fic #ficlet #writeblr #antagonist and protagonist

[asahicore]

our secret moments - lhs (m)

"our secret moments in a crowded room / they got no idea about me and you // all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you" - dress by taylor swift

series masterlist - part one - part two - part three

100 kisses masterlist - prompts 4 (breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours), 26 (“i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in”) & 19 (“if we’re caught kissing we’re most likely dead but let’s risk it”)

pairing. best friend’s brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. After avoiding Heeseung for a week, Chaeyeong makes you talk things out with him. In the weeks that follow, the two of you sneak around at night, sharing secret kisses in the backseat of his car and getting to know each other on a deeper level. If you make sure to be careful, there's no reason it should go wrong, right? genre. secret relationship au, fluff, smut (mdni!!), hint of angst at the end word count. 24.2k 😂 a/n. after a thousand years she's finally out!! i'm really sorry for making you guys wait but i was struggling with writing motivation and as you can see she's a bajillion words long so it took me forever to finish it. at least my amazing beta reader bestie in charge @zreamy edited it in like twelve seconds which was super awesome of her oh also shout out to the anon who recommended dress by tswift for this part ur very smart!! ok will stop talking now hope u guys like it and as always pls lmk what u think!!

Heeseung is confused.

He’s always proudly considered himself someone who easily understands other people, who isn’t rattled by sudden shifts in moods and who can adjust to different situations and attitudes. He’s observant and likes trying to figure out what the people around him are thinking or feeling, going over all the possibilities and finding the right way to fix a situation. In that aspect, he’scompletely unlike his sister Seeun, who, always straightforward, prefers asking directly. 

But Heeseung doesn’t see the fun in that.

His ability to understand others so well also allows the people around him to rely on him whenever they have concerns or troubles - they trust him to listen intently and provide solutions as best as he can. Even though he has few friends, he knows them inside out, and he’ll always choose that over having tons of friends he doesn’t really know.

This is where the confusing part starts for him. He likes to think of you as a friend - not a close friend like Sunghoon or Jay, but still a friend. You greet each other and even sometimes talk when you run into each other at school or at his place; you take the bus home together every once in a while; you remember each other’s birthdays; you even spent a few hours making a puzzle together once. Surely, that’s what friends do, Heeseung thinks. But to his great despair, understanding other people means he also understands himself well, and he can’t fool himself for that long.

He knows a friend wouldn’t make him feel the way you do. He can’t even blame it on your being a girl, because Chaeyoung, whom he basically sees just as often as you, or any of the girls in his classes that he sees on a daily basis, don’t make his palms sweat and his heart race like you do.

Admittedly, the truth would be closer to ‘my little sister’s best friend who I get even more nervous and awkward than usual around and gives me butterflies every time she so much as looks at me and is awfully pretty and smart and funny, which doesn’t help any of this.’ 

But ‘friend’ is easier. 

So he sticks to it and forces himself to look you in the eye when you talk and to start conversations with you, like he does with all his other friends, hoping that someday, he will finally feel normal around you. 

Sadly, that day doesn’t seem to come, and before he knows it, fall arrives and he’s whisked away to college. That’s where he meets Jake.

Jake was Heeseung’s roommate whom he had been terrified of as soon as he laid eyes on him, for Jake seemed to be the complete opposite of Heeseung and the exact type of guy he had hated in high school. The loud type, who sat at the back of the room and paid no attention to the teacher because he was too busy annoying girls or making fart noises with his armpit. The type who made fun of Heeseung’s glasses.

Heeseung was terrified of Jake for about five minutes (and with reason - the first thing Jake had said to him was “Cool glasses, bro”) until they started talking and he realized that he was doing the same major as him, shared a lot of his interests both academic and hobby-wise, and was basically just as much of a nerd as him; he simply hid it much better. Not that Heeseung wanted to hide it or even understood why he should.

One of Jake’s freshman-year goals was to get into a fraternity. But not just any - he had his eyes set on Sigma Sigma Pi because his brother was an alumnus and he had told Jake - in those exact words - that college life wasn’t worth living if you weren’t part of a fraternity. This meant that presence at the first party of the semester was mandatory. Heeseung had shivered at the word ‘party’, but Jake was so resolute that he decided to support his friend and come along, letting himself be convinced that even he might find some fun in it.

Three pints of cheap beer and five shots of tequila later, he concluded that maybe frat parties weren’t so bad after all. As soon as they’d seen him, a group of upperclassmen had taken his crooked glasses and lanky limbs as signs of social awkwardness and decided to help him loosen up by bringing him directly to the kitchen where all the good stuff was. Jake hadn’t expected that Heeseung would be the one to catch their eye, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting to party with the frat bros on his first night of college.

Heeseung, whose lips had never touched so much as a drop of alcohol, was wasted barely two hours into the party. Jake fared slightly better, but only because he knew better than to accept every drink that came his way. To this day, Heeseung finds himself unable to remember anything that happened after eleven p.m. that night, so imagine his surprise the next morning when he woke up half-naked in a stranger’s bed. 

Heeseung, who had practically never had a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. Heeseung, who had never even been close to getting his first kiss, and whose dick only knew his right hand. Heeseung, who had had a singular crush his whole life, and had never been able to do anything about it. So imagine his surprise when said stranger turned out to be a girl - and a pretty one, at that - who was smiling down at him as he blinked his eyes open and asking him if he slept well.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, close to Heeseung’s chest, which he rapidly covered with a blanket as soon as he realized it was bare. He was sleepy and confused, but more than that, he was hungover - his head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he might be sick any second. Obviously, Heeseung had never had a hangover before, nor had he ever woken up in a girl’s bed with no idea of how he got there, and the two new unexpected experiences made him unable to think or speak. He was just really confused. And really sleepy.

The girl slightly furrowed her eyebrows but laughed, seemingly amused by Heeseung’s behavior. “Are you okay?”

“I- um, yeah, I’m fine, but I, um…”

Heeseung winced at his own awkwardness, but he had no idea how to behave in such a situation. He also wasn’t sure how to tell this girl that he had no idea who she was or what he was doing with her.

She gave him a weird look but continued laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”

This only confused Heeseung further, because he always acted like this. He looked away from her questioning eyes and found an interesting spot on the blanket for his eyes to focus on. “What, um, what happened last night? I think I had too much to drink…” he said, voice getting quieter the more he spoke.

This girl was apparently having a lot of fun, because his words only made her laugh more. “You can say that again. You were out.” Heeseung’s head whipped at that and his expression was so alarmed that she instantly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.” 

He still didn’t say anything and looked terrified out of his mind. “Do you not remember?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Anything?” He shook his head again.

She sighed. “Do you know my name?” 

Heeseung looked down again, and she could feel his guilt in the third head-shake.

“Guess you really did drink a lot. I’m Yunjin,” she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.

He cleared his throat and took the girl’s hand. “H-Heeseung.”

Yunjin tilted her head at Heeseung as if trying to figure him out. “You know, you were really different last night. A completely different person.”

No matter how mortifying the thought of behaving inappropriately was to Heeseung, he preferred knowing what he did to staying in the dark. “What was I like?” he asked, sounding almost scared.

Yunjin took a second to think. “You were just really… confident,” she said, and Heeseung looked at her in total disbelief. “You talked to everyone, danced like crazy, flirted with me…” She paused for a second, then looked at Heeseung with a teasing smile. “You’re a really good kisser, you know.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened so much they could’ve popped out of their sockets. “Me?!” he exclaimed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Yunjin just laughed and nodded.

“But right now, you’re like a beaten puppy or something. You act like I’m gonna punch you any second,” she joked, finally getting a chuckle out of Heeseung. 

They talked for some more, and he relaxed enough to ask more questions. But maybe he shouldn’t have had, because his embarrassment reached its peak when Yunjin told him that she had taken him upstairs the previous night, not realizing how drunk he was because of how drunk she was, but that they hadn’t done anything more than kissing. He asked whether he’d fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed, so Yunjin, reluctantly, had to inform him that he “couldn’t get it up” - her words. That was why he’d woken up in just his underwear. 

Luckily for him, their conversation was cut short when the rightful owner of the room kicked them out. He scrambled to put his clothes back on, and he and Yunjin ran into Jake in the hallway just as they exited the room.

“Heeseung! My man!” Jake exclaimed, circling his friend’s shoulders with his arm and ruffling his hair. The three of them decided to go get breakfast together in an attempt to fight off their hangovers, and a beautiful friendship ensued. Jake and Yunjin quickly figured out how fun it is to tease Heeseung for his awkwardness and nerd tendencies, but they were also really good friends. 

It didn’t take long for them to find out about his long-standing crush on his sister’s best friend, and they immediately made it their mission to help Heeseung channel his alter ego so that he could finally make his move on you. He was reluctant at first, but after some time, he found that it was fun to party on the weekends, flirt shamelessly with strangers (and yes, sometimes make out with them) and hit the gym with Jake rather than stay holed up in his room and just study or game. They convinced him to get a haircut and some nicer clothes, and they even went to get their ears pierced together on a night when the alcohol made them feel like it was the greatest idea ever.

Of course, Jake and Heeseung were accepted in Sigma Sigma Pi, and Yunjin in the twin sorority. Heeseung developed this sort of odd reputation of being a player and a huge flirt but never actually taking a girl back to his room. Not to say no one tried - many girls heard about him and thought they would be the one to bag this boy that only seemed to get more handsome at every party, but no matter what they did or said, they were no match for you. 

Even though he hadn’t seen you in months, you were still on his mind all the time. To say he missed you would be an understatement, and it was a weird feeling, considering you were barely friends. But he missed taking the bus with you and hearing you laugh, even if it was at him, even when you were teasing him. He missed getting a glimpse of you in the hallways or seeing your shoes at the entrance of his house when he came home from school. He daydreamed about those hours you had spent together working on a puzzle together more often than he’d like to admit.

He didn’t like the idea that some girls might think he was leading them on, but once he knew his flirting actually worked on people, he couldn’t wait to see you again and try his new tricks on you. He tried not to self-doubt too much, but he was scared that you wouldn’t like it - he wanted to get a positive reaction out of you, not make you want to run the other way.

So when he finally came home for the summer and started working his charm on you, he was immensely relieved to see you get shy and flustered around him. He finally understood why you’d always teased him - there was nothing like knowing your heart had skipped a beat because of him, much like his had because of you thousands of times before.

It’s hard to always keep his cool around you, however, and he also finds himself getting nervous once in a while. But the hope that you might like him back keeps him going, so he takes every opportunity he can to talk to you and, while he’s at it, call you pretty or smile at you (a smile he’s practiced many times in the mirror for maximum effectiveness). To his immense joy, it works every time - so when the party rolls around, he knows he has to make an actual move. It also helps that he’s invited his number one wingman to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that his confidence never wavers.

He thinks he’s hit the jackpot when the bottle lands on you and on him right afterwards. He thinks he’s reached heaven when he finally feels your lips on his, when he finally gets to have you close and touch your hair and hold your waist and have your hands on him. The seven minutes pass by in a flash, and heaven is ripped away from him by his own best friend when the closet doors open - but the worst part happens during the days that follow. Those are hell.

You do the one thing that he had hoped you wouldn’t - you run away from him. In one week, you don’t even say ten words to him, just greet him quickly and proceed to escape as far as you can. He notices the change in your behavior right away - how could he not? And so a thousand possibilities run through his mind, ranging from “the kiss was awful, and she hates my guts, and she never wants to see my face ever again” to “she’s just scared about the repercussions this could have if Seeun finds out.” None of his friends can calm him down or get him to think straight.

This whole ordeal makes him panic so much that he has fully gone off flirty mode - how could he flirt with you if he couldn’t even get you to talk to him? He had been sure he’d read into your reactions right, that you had feelings for him, and that he was right to make a move, but not anymore. Now, he was just confused.

--

Since that fateful party, you’ve unconsciously started seeing your life as pre-Heeseung incident and post-Heeseung incident. 

Pre-Heeseung incident: it’s painful having such an intense one-sided crush, but at least you can keep it to yourself and not have to worry about Seeun’s reaction to you being in love with her brother. Sure, said brother’s constant flirting and general existence don’t make things easy for you, but it’s better to keep it a secret than to act on it.

Post-Heeseung incident: you have no idea what to do with yourself now that you know what it actually feels like to kiss and touch Heeseung, so you’ve resorted to avoiding him like the plague and pretending nothing has ever happened. It’s not fun either, and having to keep your inner turmoil to yourself is even harder than before, but you don’t want to risk your friendship with Heeseung over one kiss.

On the afternoon of day five, you’re going crazy reiterating the events of the party, so you decide to text the girls and ask them to come over. They both answer that they’ll be there in fifteen, but not even three minutes after you’ve sent the text, Chaeyeong appears at your bedroom door, face red and sweaty like she’s just run a marathon.

Since it’s Chaeyeong, you’re only mildly surprised to see her there, but you’re curious about her quick arrival nonetheless. “You’re already here?”

“Y/N, we need to talk,” she says with all the seriousness in the world. You’d be scared shitless if these words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, but knowing your best friend, she’s just exaggerating the gravity of whatever this is about.

Even though you try to match her earnestness, you can’t keep the amusement out of your voice when you answer, “Sure, go ahead.” 

She catches onto your lack of seriousness right away. “You think this is funny?” she says in an almost threatening way. “I came early so we could talk about your little Heeseung problem without Seeun.”

That’s enough to shut you up for a few seconds as you look at her mouth agape, heat rising to your face. She takes your silence as a victory and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for you to say something. “My little Heeseung problem?” you echo stupidly, and she nods. “I don’t have a little Heeseung problem.” You know that nothing about your tone or expression is convincing, but you still hope - in vain - that she’ll let you off the hook.

“No, you’re right, you have a big Heeseung problem. And it must be discussed.”

You roll your eyes as she takes a seat next to you on your bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously, you know.”

One thing about Chaeyeong is she’s never at a loss for words. It makes arguing with her exhausting because she’s always got something to bite back at you, no matter how much of a reach it is. So before the conversation even starts, you know she’s going to win it. You’re afraid of the truth she might shove into your face, but you figure it needs to be done at some point, so you let her.

“What’s serious is this crush you’ve been harboring on him all these years, and that now that something has finally happened and you might be going somewhere with him, you’re running the other way.”

You only hear the beginning of her sentence, too focused on the bomb she’s just dropped on you. “You-you knew?”

It’s her turn to eye-roll. “Only an idiot wouldn’t notice how much you like that boy, Y/N. Which means that Seeun is an idiot, by the way.”

The mention of your other best friend makes you wince slightly. It feels wrong to be going behind her back to talk about your crush on her big brother like this. “Yeah, I know,” Chaeyeong says as if reading your mind. “I’ve thought about it, and I honestly have no idea how she’ll react.”

You both look at your feet for a while, mulling over the different ways this could go down with Seeun. “It definitely doesn’t look good,” you say defeatedly. “I mean, if her reaction at the party is anything to go by. When we were playing the game, you know. When the bottle landed on me and Heeseung, she looked completely disgusted, but when we came out she didn’t even question whether something might have happened, as if that was just impossible for her.”

Chaeyeong sighs. “Well, if you tell her, she’ll definitely be surprised. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it… right?”

Your friend’s doubt only makes you feel even worse, and you drop your head into your palms with a groan. “I hate everything about this.”

Chaeyeong nudges your shoulder with her own, making you turn your head to look at her. “I’m sure you didn’t hate that whole part when you were in the closet with-”

“Chaeyeong!” you scream before she can finish her godforsaken sentence, but it only makes her break into a fit of giggles. You try to pretend to be mad at her but a smile breaks through your pout at the sound of her laughter. 

“Well? You can’t deny it, can you?”

It takes another nudge of her shoulder with yours to make you reply. “Of course not, but-”

“So that’s it then! Let’s not think about any of the possible bad outcomes for now, and just focus on getting you and him together.” She doesn’t even give you time to answer - your wide eyes and panicked expression are enough for her to know what you would say. “Listen, I’ve had to sit here and watch you and Heeseung make heart eyes at each other without the other knowing, and that was already excruciating enough - I can’t stand to watch you make heart eyes at each other now that you know what the other feels.”

It takes you a second to process all of her words. “Y-you think Heeseung makes heart eyes at me?” you ask weakly. It’s like you have selective hearing today.

“Girl! He somehow manages to make it even more obvious than you. Also, Jake told me that Heeseung told him that he likes you. Can’t get much more reassurance than that.” Your dumbstruck expression makes her look at you in disbelief. “You seriously don’t see it?” she says in a fascinated voice, as if in wonder at your stupidity. You can only slightly shake your head no.

“I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with…” She sounds like an overworked office worker and mother of four rather than a high school senior on her summer break, and her attitude would make you laugh if you weren’t so rattled by the thought that Heeseung might have actually liked you all these years, you were just too caught up in your own feelings for him to notice it.

She takes your hand in hers and sighs. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t really believe it,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I remember the way he would get all shy and blushy whenever you were around, and that boy was already one hell of a nervous wreck on his own. And the blatant flirting since he’s come back makes me want to applaud him and vomit everywhere at the same time,” she says with a chuckle.

“Really?” you ask, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let yourself be convinced by your friend’s words.

“Really. And you, I’ve noticed how you pay more attention when his name is mentioned. And you were always a bit cheerier on the days you came back from school after riding the bus with him. Don’t even get me started on the way you’ve been this summer. You couldn’t get more obvious. It screams ‘I can’t handle being around this man for more than a minute so I’ll just run away,’ and I mean that in a good way.”

You look at Chaeyeong with a pout, and her smile grows bigger. You squint your eyes as you look away, trying to keep your grin down. “Guess I wasn’t as discrete as I thought I was.”

“You really weren’t,” she laughs. “Probably thought it was your own little secret, right?”

You’re slightly embarrassed that you’d been uncovered such a long time ago, but it’s also a relief, being able to share this with someone. 

“I did…” you admit, and it makes you both break into laughter. After you’ve calmed down, you ask Chaeyeong why she’d never said anything about it before. She thinks about it for a bit before answering.

“I’m not completely sure. Maybe because you and Heeseung were both such losers, I thought that even if I told you I knew, nothing would happen.” You scoff, slightly offended, but more because you know she’s right than anything. “And I don’t know, you two were just so cute with your crush on each other. I wanted to let you figure it out on your own, but now it’s taken so long and it’s right in your face but you’re still doing nothing about it, so I got fed up.”

You nod at her words, taking it all in. Was it really time to let Heeseung know about your feelings?

“I also feel bad for Heeseung, you know.” You look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Poor guy has been in agony these days. You need to stop ignoring him. I know it’s because you feel weird about him being Seeun’s brother, but I swear I think he might die if you don’t just at least talk to him. I’ve actually talked to Jake…” she reveals, and you wouldn’t have questioned her talking to Heeseung’s friend if it weren’t for the way she said it.

“You have?” you repeat with a suggestive tone.

“I have,” she says with a smile, “but that’s not the topic right now. Anyway, he said that Heeseung’s been losing his mind trying to figure out what to do. I think it’d make things a lot easier if you just went and talked to him, cleared things up, confessed your undying love for him, hm?”

“Who are we confessing to?” Seeun asks, suddenly appearing at the door and making you and Chaeyeong scream in genuine terror.

“Nice to see you guys, too,” she chuckles before flopping down on the bed.

Chaeyeong is only good with her words when it comes to arguing - she’s perhaps the most terrible liar you’ve encountered in your life. But at least she knows this, and is always deft at switching the topic rather than attempting to come up with an excuse. “Y/N and I were just talking about watching some movies with the boys tonight. Apparently, they’re having a movie night at your place since you’ve got the best TV, and Jake asked if we wanted to join.”

You know better than to look surprised by Chaeyeong’s words and make it clear that she’s lying, but you’re still caught off-guard by the sudden news. Movie night meant being in a darkened room in proximity to Heeseung, and we all know what happened the last night you were in a dark room with him. 

“Y/N and I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to ask you first. Right, Y/N?” Chaeyeong suddenly prompts, momentarily tearing you away from your thoughts of Heeseung’s lips on yours. 

“Right,” you reply, somehow successfully pretending like you’re not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. You’re even more embarrassed now that you know that Chaeyeong and Jake know about your little crush, and you can’t even pretend it isn’t there like you usually do.

Seeun hums. “Alright, sounds fun.”

The three of you chat the rest of the afternoon away, and before you know it, you’re getting ready to go to Seeun’s house. As you rummage around your drawers for that one pair of soft sweatpants that manages to be the most comfortable article of clothing on Earth while also making your butt look amazing, your phone buzzes twice, and so do Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s. The first notification is of Heeseung having added you to a group chat simply named “movie night”, and the second is of a link being sent to said chat. When you click on it, it redirects you to a poll to rank ten movies in order of how much you want to watch them. Your favorite movie is on the list, and you can’t help but wonder whether it’s a coincidence or whether it’s something you’d talked about during high school and that he’d somehow remembered.

Once everyone has voted, you receive a second link, this one asking you to rank the three top movies in watch order. A smile breaks on your lips at this - it’s very Heeseung of Heeseung to do this and avoid later confrontation. As if to confirm this thought, your phone dings for a third time with a text from him that reads “this is so we don’t spend thirty minutes choosing a movie.” You’re not sure why everything he does is so endearing to you, all you know is that trying to avoid as much conflict as possible is a very Heeseung thing to do, and you’re grateful for it too.

When you get to Seeun’s house around seven-thirty p.m., the first movie is already up on the TV, waiting to be played. It’s horror, and you’re glad it wasn’t picked to be watched last, otherwise, you might’ve had trouble falling asleep. You quickly notice that Heeseung is the only one of the boys not currently sitting on the couch or in an armchair, and the question appearing in your head is answered almost right away when Seeun asks about her brother’s whereabouts. 

“He’s just in the kitchen getting the drinks ready,” Jay answers as he sprawls his body even more across the armchair he’s reserved for himself. 

“Why don’t you go help him out, Y/N?” Chaeyeong proposes with a deceptively innocent smirk, and if Seeun hadn’t been watching, you’d have given your hellspawn of a friend a serious death glare, but all you can do is mumble out “sure” and make your way to the dreaded kitchen. The butterflies you used to feel when thinking of Heeseung or being around him before have now turned into brutal rhinos trampling your insides, and it doesn’t feel so nice. 

“Hey, Heeseung,” you say quietly as you enter the kitchen, and your nerves make your own voice sound unfamiliar to your ears. He gasps at your sudden appearance, a blush immediately creeping on his cheeks, and you’re glad the lid on the bottle of Coke he’s holding is tightly screwed, otherwise, it might’ve spilt everywhere.

“O-oh, hey, Y/N,” he stammers in response. It’s awkward for three seconds as the two of you stare at each other until you remember why you’re here in the first place. 

“Um, I heard you might need some help?” you ask, and again, the sound of your own voice, so squeaky and unsure, makes you wince.

“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Here, you can fill this bowl with ice.”

You comply, and the refreshing feeling of the ice against your fingers somewhat helps to cool you down. It’s only quiet for a few moments, because although starting a conversation is terrifying, the tension in the silence and the thought of your feelings being left unsaid is far worse. So you take a deep breathe and open your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry-”

You and Heeseung exchange a bewildered look, the surprise of apologizing at the same time quickly fading out into a burst of shy giggles. “You go first,” he says, risking another glance your way as he busies himself again with the glasses and the drinks. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all week,” you start. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just… scared. And I didn’t know what to say.”

Explaining your behavior any further means confessing your feelings for him and articulating your fear of Seeun finding out, and even though it must be all clear as day by now, you’re still not quite ready to talk about it. Not now, when your friends are in the room right next to you. So you don’t add anything and hope that Heeseung has developed some sort of telepathy skills over the last few days. 

When he doesn’t press any further, instead saying it’s okay and smiling at you (properly, with eye contact), a weight seems to be lifted off your heart. “Your turn now,” you say, still smiling. You’ve emptied the ice cube tray into the bowl, so all you can do is look at Heeseung and wait for him to speak. If only you knew how much harder that made it for him. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you and then acting weird.” He can’t quite bring himself to look at you as he speaks, and even though he’s done getting the drinks ready, he keeps his eyes trained on the glasses as if they’ll tell him what to say next. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he adds quickly, “not at all.” Heat rises to your face and you have to tear your gaze away from him for a second. “I was confused ‘cause I never thought you might… want that too,” he says, voice quieter than before, like he’s scared that the others might hear him - like he’s scared that you might hear him. 

The words are right there at the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free - so for once, you comply. “I do.” Your voice is just as quiet as his, perhaps even more so, and if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, you’d have thought he didn’t hear you. 

Your gazes lock, and the simultaneous relief and fear you feel are mirrored in his wide eyes. His face then breaks into a huge grin, and he is so dazzlingly handsome that you have to look away once more. You smile at the ground instead, grateful that breathing is something you do without having to think about it, otherwise, you’d have stopped doing it a long time ago. 

Neither of you says anything more, letting the silence do its job. You look back up at him as he sighs deeply, almost contentedly, it seems. He smiles at the glasses as if they told him the right thing to say. He looks at you, smiles wider, looks away, looks back, looks away again, scratches the back of his head. You watch the whole time, small giggles bubbling up your throat and out of your lips. 

He sighs once more and looks back at you, keeping his eyes on yours this time. “Okay, we should head back now. But talk more later?” he asks, and you nod immediately. Any other time, you’d have been embarrassed to show your interest so obviously, but you’d just told each other you both wanted to kiss the other, so agreeing to talk more later felt like nothing now. 

“Okay,” he repeats, grin still wide on his lips as he picks up the tray and heads back to the others, you following close behind.

“Took you long enough,” Seeun says, scrolling on her phone as you step into the living room, but you’re too focused on something else to quip back at her.

Jay is still reigning over his armchair while Sunghoon, Seeun, Chaeyeong and Jake, in this order, occupy the main couch that faces the TV. This means that the only spot left for you and Heeseung to sit in is the other armchair opposite Jay’s, obviously big enough for one person but slightly too small for two people to sit comfortably on, as in to sit without their bodies touching each other.

Heeseung had just admitted he wanted to kiss you. You had also just admitted to Heeseung you wanted to kiss him. Now, you were going to sit together in an armchair that forced two people into proximity, and you had to pretend like that was fine. 

When you manage to take your eyes away from the godforsaken armchair, your eyes meet Jake’s, then Chaeyeong’s, and that’s when you realize. They did it on purpose. The poorly-concealed smirks on their faces and giggles threatening to escape their lips as they take in your reaction make it all too clear. You could strangle your best friend right now. You know she’s doing you a favor, and deep down, you’re thankful for it, but you also know sitting through these movies is going to be the most arduous task of your life when Heeseung is right there. Close enough to touch, close enough to lace your fingers together or thread yours through his hair. You remembered very well from your game of seven minutes in heaven that it was just as soft as it looked. 

You send Chaeyeong yet another death glare, but it only makes her smile more. You set the bowl of ice on the table after Heeseung’s put the drinks tray down, and immediately make yourself a glass of Sprite to keep your hands occupied for at least a little bit. 

While you do that, Heeseung takes a seat on the armchair, and the sight you’re greeted with when you turn to sit next to him makes you almost drop your drink. After the little confession-like moment you shared in the kitchen, it seems like all his confidence from before the party has returned to him. He’s taken a comfortable seat indeed - he’s shamelessly manspreading, thighs almost taking up the whole space as if inviting you to find your own seat there. He lets himself be engulfed by the soft cushions as his head falls back against the headrest, exposing his neck and prominent Adam’s apple. 

You’d just gotten used to shy, flustered Heeseung again, only for him to return to his confident self in the blink of an eye. You try not to let it deter you, especially because you’re not the only two in this room, but his smirk as he looks up at you makes it hard not to. All you can do is redirect your death stare towards him, but sadly, much like with Chaeyeong, the only effect it has is to make him smile wider, as if torturing you was a fun pastime for them. 

You mumble at him to scooch then sit down next to him, knees bent close to your chest so your legs don’t touch his too much, but that plan is quickly thrown out of the window when you feel his hand sneaking behind your back until it reaches your waist, settling there. Even with a layer of fabric between his hand and your skin, the contact sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to keep yourself from audibly gasping. Conscious of the drink in your hand, Heeseung pulls you gently towards him, making your bent knees fall to the side and rest on his thigh. So much for keeping your distance.

Even your idea of occupying your hands with a drink turns out to be useless twenty minutes into the movie when the first jumpscare almost makes you spill your Sprite all over you and Heeseung. You take a big gulp before leaning forwards to set your glass on the table, and Heeseung’s hand stays put the whole time, even squeezing gently when you find your seat again. Without the drink, you know it’s a bit weird to stay sitting upright, but you can’t imagine leaning fully back against Heeseung or resting your head on his shoulder. This already feels like a lot - to be even closer to him would probably send you into cardiac arrest. Plus, even in the darkness of the room, the light coming from the TV screen would be enough for the others to see your and Heeseung’s position on the armchair, and you definitely don’t need Seeun to see you cuddling up to her brother.

You’re already tense from sitting right next to Heeseung, and the movie playing on the screen is not helping - creepy music that puts you on edge, camera angles that only let you see the character’s face and nothing else, weird silhouettes that flash for just a second - this is one of the rare times a horror movie actually does what it’s supposed to do, i.e. scare you. You almost managed to forget the boy’s presence next to you, but when a particularly suspenseful scene plays, you instinctively reach out to grab something, anything, and of course, that happens to be his wrist. You’re so immersed in the movie that it’s only when he wriggles out of your grasp and takes your hand in his instead that you realize what you’ve done. 

It’s like somebody pressed the pause button as you look down at your intertwined hands, the sound and light coming from the TV screen not registering in your mind anymore. When you dare to look at Heeseung’s face, he’s already shyly smiling down at you. He quickly turns away to watch the movie instead, but you’re still too focused on the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his fingers between yours to care whether the stupid white girl will make it out of the house safely or not.

This is something you’ve daydreamed about a thousand times before. Every time you’d ride the bus together or walk side by side, you wondered what would happen if you just reached out and grabbed his hand. It was always right there - but the line you’d be crossing seemed miles and miles away. Now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s a lot better than you could ever have imagined. You feel like you should be freaking out, scared by what this simple touch means and by the fact that Seeun could turn her head at any moment and see you holding hands with her brother, but all you feel is contentment. Your feelings for Heeseung just needed to be reciprocated, and now that you know they might be - no, that they are - it’s like you can be at peace with them.

Feeling bolder, you squeeze Heeseung’s hand once then bring it to rest on your knee. You sense his gaze on your face once again, but you avoid it and keep your eyes fixated on the TV screen, unable to keep yourself from smiling even though one of the side characters is getting brutally murdered. Your smile only gets bigger when he squeezes your hand back.

You stay like this for so long that your and Heeseung’s hands seem to melt together, and you can hardly tell where your own fingers end anymore. The doorbell rings during another tense scene, making everyone jump in their seats, but it’s just the pizza guy. 

Seeun goes to get the door and pay, and the poor girl has barely placed the pizzas on the coffee table that the boys are already pouncing on it like starved children. Only Heeseung stays put, laughing at his friends and waiting for them to get a slice. The fact that he gives you a plate - with a slice of your favorite pizza, no less - before getting his own shouldn’t make your heart race as much as it does, but your cheeks still heat up at the simple gesture. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide your flustered expression as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’

You all eat your fill and watch the rest of the movie, agreeing that the end was quite disappointing (even though you were all stressing out and holding onto each other for dear life during the climax - Heeseung’s hand found yours again as soon as you were done eating, and you’re pretty sure one of his fingers was close to breaking with how hard you were grabbing him).

To everyone’s surprise, Seeun announces that she’s going to bed halfway through the second movie. 

“But it’s only eleven p.m.!” Chaeyeong protests, as if knowing the time would make Seeun change her mind.

“I know, but that pizza took me out for some reason. I’ve been falling asleep for the past half hour, might as well just go to bed.” There’s not much to argue, so a chorus of ‘goodnights’ ensues as Seeun trudges upstairs. The three on the couch immediately use the added space to spread out more, Sunghoon extending his legs to the side so that the back of his knees rests in Chaeyeong’s lap and his feet in Jake’s. Both of them complain about the weight but don’t do anything to make him actually move, so he contentedly keeps his position.

You can’t help but think that with Seeun gone, you can also make yourself more comfortable. You’re thinking about whether to change your position on the armchair, going over the different ways Heeseung might react, when you catch Chaeyeong’s look. She raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, “what are you waiting for?” as if your next move should be obvious. You look away from her and back at the screen, then start to lean backwards as naturally as possible, but that’s hard to do when your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. Luckily (or not) for you, Heeseung seems to get the message immediately and wraps his free hand around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him - closer than you had intended to.

The loudness of the movie isn’t enough to drown out the sound of your sharp intake of breath at the sudden proximity, and you feel your face heating up when Heeseung chuckles at your reaction. This is a comedy movie you’ve watched a bunch of times already, which makes it all too easy for you to focus on him rather than the screen. Now that your head rests on his shoulder, if you turned your face ever-so-slightly, you could get a proper whiff of his cologne and his skin. You really, really want to bury your nose in his neck and inhale, but you’re afraid that might get you a couple of weird looks.

You look down at your intertwined hands again and happily realize that you can now unabashedly stare at Heeseung’s hands the way you had always wanted to. You can finally play with his long fingers, tracing the outline of them and bending them softly at the knuckles, and admire the lines on his palm as if they might reveal everything you want to know about him. You can finally do it, so you do, almost unconsciously - you don’t realize that you’re touching his hand as freely as if it were your own until you hear his breath start to get shakier. 

You halt your motions right away and look up at him alarmed, scared that you’ve made him uncomfortable when he avoids your gaze. But then he reaches for your hand again and the corner of his lips tug ever-so-slightly into a small smile. You’re not sure if it’s the light of the TV screen on his face, but it even seems like his cheeks have reddened. You’ve been flustered one too many times to not recognize the symptoms, but it’s still surreal to think that you might have the same effect on Heeseung as he has on you.

Giddy with this new realization, you make yourself more comfortable against Heeseung, resting your head in the dip between his neck and his shoulder and bringing your knees closer to him. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist, holding you there. You continue to play with his other hand, only half-paying attention to the movie. In this new position, you can feel Heeseung’s chest rising in rhythm with his breathing, and that is much more mesmerizing to you than any movie could be.

The only times you tear yourself away are when Jay brings snacks in from the kitchen and when you need to go to the toilet between the second and third movies. Other than that, you stay cuddled up close to Heeseung, basking in the warmth you’d been longing for for years. It’s so comfortable that you never want to leave, even when Heeseung’s touch burns as his hand sneakily finds its way underneath your t-shirt to trace patterns against the bare skin of your waist. You almost yelp from how unexpected but pleasant it is.

You both easily stay awake until the end of the third movie, perhaps because your nerves are too much in a frenzy from being so close for you to feel sleepy. Sunghoon, Jake and Chaeyeong, however, have all fallen asleep, and Jay wishes you goodnight and heads upstairs as soon as the movie is over. 

In a whispered conversation that feels too intimate for your own good, you and Heeseung decide to let the others sleep on the couch rather than wake them up, and to clean up the pizza boxes and other things littering the coffee table.

It’s quiet as you throw the trash away and put everything back in cupboards or in the fridge. You’re on your last bite of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza when Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.

“So…”

You look at him as he stands, lower back against the counter and gaze directed towards the ground. Now that you’re in a bright room, you know that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just a trick of the light. A smile that mirrors his grows on your lips at his endearing shyness.

“So…” you echo, making him chuckle.

“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck. You’re not sure how this is the same Heeseung that had held you close to him just moments prior, but you understand that he might revert back to his nervous self when he’s in a more serious situation. You’re not completely relaxed either.

You pretend to think for a second, but you know exactly what it is you want to ask. “Well, there is this thing I’ve been curious about…” you start. He looks at you and tilts his head to the side, so you take it as your cue to go on. “What the hell happened when you were away at college for you to come back so different?” you ask with an amused tone to your voice.

So he tells you about his freshman year. About the party that Jake dragged him to and everything that ensued after it. He doesn’t go into too much detail about exactly how he met Yunjin or all the flirting (and kissing) practice he’s had, just saying that he found ways to build his confidence - and at the end, he quietly confesses that he’d done it to find the courage to confess to you, but that it hadn’t gone so well after all. You try not to dwell on the fact that he changed so much for you, because thinking about it for too long would probably melt you into a puddle. 

“What do you mean, it didn’t go so well?” you question softly, lowering your voice to the same volume as him. You’ve realized that when you and Heeseung talk, you often end up doing so really quietly. You don’t know why you like it so much.

“Well, you know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he starts, trying to make his tone the least reproachful he can, because he’s not mad at you, not at all - if anything, he’s mad at himself. “So I thought I’d really messed things up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up, Heeseung. If anything, I’m the one who made things weird. I just…” You sigh. “I’m so scared of Seeun finding out. But…”

“But?” he prompts, a hopeful look on his face. Clearly, dating his sister’s best friend isn’t as much of a dilemma for him as it is for you. 

“But I’m more scared of letting you go now that I finally have you,” you say to the ground.

A beat passes. “So don’t,” he whispers, voice so low you barely hear it - but you do, and you understand his words loud and clear. They resonate in your head as he takes a step closer to you, then another and another. You feel your heart pulse throughout your entire body when he reaches you, standing right in front of you. 

Your breath hitches when he rests one of his hands on the kitchen counter behind you. Gently, he cups one side of your face with his other hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to look up at him. He’s so close you could count every single one of his eyelashes. 

“So don’t,” he repeats with a small smile. When he bends down to kiss you, melting against his lips is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

The feeling of his soft lips against yours brings you back immediately to that closet. You both only realize just how much you’d been itching to pick things up from where you’d left them when the kiss gets heated in a matter of mere seconds, your need and longing for each other over the past five days evident in the way you pull each other impossibly close.

Your hands reach up, first resting on his shoulders but quickly finding their way towards the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair there almost instinctively, desperate to have something to hold onto. Meanwhile, his hands brush along your sides, moving from your hips to your waist before they encircle your middle in an attempt to bring you closer to him.

There’s no battle for dominance in your kiss, no trying to win the other over, no trying to make the other succumb - rather, you fall easily into each other’s rhythm, relishing in the other’s taste and the long awaited proximity. His mouth is soft against yours, his hair is soft under your hands, and his touch is driving you insane. You never want to stop.

After a few minutes, however, the light-headedness from a lack of air and kissing so passionately gets too much, so you draw back slightly to take a breath - but Heeseung seems to have other plans. He reacts immediately to you pulling away, and doesn’t even give you a second to breathe before pressing his lips back against yours, as though his air were your kiss. 

The suddenness makes you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to brush his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss even further than before. You feel your heartbeat speed up when his hands trail back down your body, but when he lowers himself slightly to reach the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the counter with ease, never once breaking the kiss, you’re pretty sure your soul actually leaves you. All you can think about is Heeseung and all you can do is continue kissing him like your life depends on it. Having your face at the same level as his now that you’re up on the counter makes it all even easier and more comfortable.

But it also means he has easier access to your neck, and as soon as he realizes that, he jumps on the opportunity. Breaking away from the kiss, he presses his lips to the corner of your own before making his way along your jawline and down your neck. Your breaths come out heavy, almost sigh-like, and you really have to keep yourself from making any noise, lest the others in the room right next to you might wake up and hear you. The feeling of Heeseung’s lips on the sensitive skin of your neck is completely new to you, but it’s an amazing kind of new - it’s the kind of new you know you won’t ever get enough of, even when it becomes familiar. 

His kisses are burning hot, and yet goosebumps spread all over your body. When he finds the spot that has you taking in a sharp breath and gripping his hair tighter, Heeseung is quick to focus his attention there and there only. He nips lightly at the skin, and that has you whispering out his name. Hearing that only makes him double down on his actions; he alternates between biting down and kissing to relieve your skin, and he’s only satisfied when there’s a bright red spot in the crook of your neck. God, where did he learn how to do all that? Is this what they teach in college?!

He looks up at you with a proud smile, and he’s so cute that you almost say nothing about the very obvious mark he just left on you, but you still feel the need to scold him. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, doing things like this,” you say with a smile just as bright as his, which probably doesn’t make you look very serious, but you can’t help it - you’re on cloud nine right now.

“What if I want to get into trouble with you?” he replies, gaze fixed on your lips. You can’t say anything in return at that, so you just slightly shake your head in amusement and lean back in to kiss him again. 

It seems that sharing so much oxygen has gotten to both of your heads, because this time around, the kiss is more light-hearted than intense, noses bumping into each other and teeth almost clashing from how hard the both of you are smiling, giggles spilling out through every touch of your lips.

“See? I told you!” 

The sudden sound of Jake’s voice coming from the doorway forces you and Heeseung apart and your face heats up immediately at the sight of Jake, Chaeyeong and even Sunghoon all looking at the two of you with a surprised but proud expression on their faces.

He takes a small step back from you and turns his body to face them, but can’t actually bring himself to look at them; you’re not much better, smiling shyly at your lap and playing with your hands in shame at being caught. At least it wasn’t by Seeun. 

Sunghoon approaches Heeseung with big steps, clapping a hand loudly against his friend’s back when he reaches him. “You finally did it, man! I’m so proud of you,” he exclaims, and actually sounds really excited. 

Heeseung risks a glance your way, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s words, but it only makes you smile harder. You slightly curse yourself for not having realized Heeseung liked you back earlier - you could’ve done this such a long time ago. As Sunghoon continues congratulating Heeseung, you catch Chaeyeong’s gaze, and she winks at you. You find yourself relieved to have her on your side, but you know that sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to Seeun about this. 

Indeed, the five of you head upstairs to go to bed, and before Heeseung and you go your separate ways, he catches your hand, squeezes it once tightly as if to bid you a silent ‘good night,’ then smiles his bright smile at you - and you know you’re in deep, far too deep to keep it secret for long.

(There’s an awkward conversation the next morning when Seeun asks how the hell you had gotten a hickey and Chaeyeong immediately jumps in, saying she did it. “For… practice,” she’d explained with as convincing a smile as she could. Luckily for you both, Seeun wouldn’t put it past her to actually do that, so she didn’t question it much further.)

--

You and Heeseung start sneaking around anyway, not quite ready to reveal your budding relationship to the world (read: Seeun).

You can’t hang out at your house, because your parents would see or hear him, and blabber innocently to the adult Lees, even if you told them not to - why couldn’t they talk to each other about their kids dating? It’s great news! Let’s have a family dinner! What? You don’t want Seeun to know? But she’s your best friend! She’ll understand, she’ll be happy for you!

You don’t need to actually have the conversation to know what your parents will say. You’ve known them for eighteen years, after all.

For more obvious reasons, you can’t hang out at his house, either - if you’re there, it means you’re with Seeun, and the risk of her finding you in her brother’s room was too great to take. 

At least Heeseung has a car. But it’s not like you can go many places, anyway - the town you live in isn’t huge, chances of running into an old classmate or even a friend are high, news travels fast, word of Heeseung and you dating could easily get back to Seeun. You went to your local diner for your first secret date with Heeseung (Chaeyeong, of course, knew about it, but Seeun thought your period cramps were too bad to sleep over that night), and there, you’d seen three different people that you knew, and Heeseung two. 

He didn’t seem to care much about his sister, or anyone for that matter, finding out about the two of you - in fact, if it was up to him, he’d have screamed it to the world right after you’d kissed at the party. But he respected your wishes, and even found your slight paranoia and darting eyes the whole evening somehow endearing - although he wished you’d paid more attention to him than to the other patrons in the diner. You hadn’t even noticed when he stole a whole handful of fries from your plate, or when he switched your strawberry milkshake with his vanilla one.

So he did the one thing he knew would get your attention - when you both reached his car, he led you to the backseat before you could head to the passenger side. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he had you on his lap, a devilish smirk on his lips that you only got a glimpse of before he trapped your own, slightly parted in surprise, in a kiss. There was a faint protest of “what if someone sees us” but any complaint you might have held flew away when his tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entry that you immediately granted. After all, you were just as desperate for more of him as he was for more of you.

You couldn’t break away from the kiss - how could you, when his lips slotted against yours so perfectly, as if you were specially crafted for one another? All you could do was hope that the fire between you two made the windows of Heeseung’s car fog up so that no one could see inside and get a glimpse of what you were doing in there.

It wasn’t any of their business anyway.

That first date opened your eyes to the many advantages of car dates. On warm summer nights like the ones you’re currently having, you can find a wide, empty space, and park there, laying down a blanket on the roof of the car and admiring the stars. You can spend hours sharing childhood anecdotes, asking Heeseung a thousand times about the moment he realized he liked you, and telling each other the things you’d always been too scared to reveal to another person. If you get hungry, you can drive to any food place and enjoy your late-night meal from your seats in the parking lot, or drive to another place with a view - although you don’t really need any sort of scenery when Heeseung sits next to you. His delighted expression as he takes his first bite or his eyes looking at you with fondness you didn’t know you could elicit from someone are some of the beautiful sights your eyes have ever been blessed with.

And after that, because innocent hand-holding and not-so-innocent thigh touches always lead to something else, most nights, you find yourselves in the backseat, basking in each other’s warmth and relishing the other’s touch. Every time, you grow needier. Every time, you need more. But so does he, and so you take and take and take just as much as you give and give and give. Even after two weeks of doing this, you’re just as on edge as before, just as reactive to any certain look he might send your way or any touch of his. You’re so relaxed, so comfortable when the two of you are talking - but as soon as you notice him glancing at your lips, or the streetlights hit him a certain way, you’re reminded of the incredible way his kiss makes you feel, and your mind fixates on it, not satisfied until you have his body close to yours. 

You also quickly find out that Heeseung’s favorite drink is Coke and you almost always taste it on his lips. You even bought Coke-flavored chapstick just to have a trace of him when you can’t be together (you’re also maybe hoping that he’ll taste the soda on your own lips, and start thinking of you whenever he drinks it.

What you don’t know is that Heeseung is always thinking of you, no matter what he’s doing, anyways).

There’s also moments where you both revert back to your flustered selves, like when you stare too hard at him for his liking (he actually loves it, it just makes him really shy) or when he compliments you out of nowhere. In those moments, it’s like you forget about the many passionate kisses you’ve shared, like you’re back on one of those comfortably silent bus rides or in that sunlit room, trying to finish a puzzle together. But then his hand grazes against yours, and you’re reminded you can hold it with confidence now - you can do many things with confidence now. As the days pass, Heeseung is pleasantly surprised to see you initiate more and more of your makeout sessions, and although your impatience to get your hands on him strokes his ego, he’ll never get tired of you avoiding his gaze when he calls you pretty.

You have to make sure not to meet up too often, otherwise your continued absence would raise Seeun’s suspicion, but it’s also hard to go more than a day without spending a little time with the other. It seems that after years of unknown mutual pining, you’ve both run out of patience and can’t stand to be away from each other for too long. This is why, more than once, Heeseung has pulled you into his room just to smell your hair or bury his face in the crook of your neck or make out - but you always make him put a five-minute timer on.

Truth be told, even though you knew your feelings for Heeseung weren’t surface level, in all the times you’d daydreamed about finally being with him, you hadn’t expected it’d be so intense. Maybe that’s what happens when you find out that the other person felt the same way you had felt about them the whole time - you feel so stupid for not finding out sooner that you can’t afford to waste a second, and years of deep emotions are squeezed into mere hours of being able to see each other at a time. 

It’s the hardest when your two friend groups hang out - he’s right there, but you can’t do anything. He sits next to you at the table or on the couch and pretends like everything’s completely normal, but you grow even quieter than usual because his scent and proximity drive you crazy. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you getting flustered or clearly having to hold back - something about only him having that effect on you does something to his brain.

Chaeyeong and Jake are both your allies and worst enemies. While they always cover for you, they also love to put you and Heeseung in… situations. Like “off-handedly” mentioning that game of seven minutes in heaven or that movie night (without mentioning you directly, of course, but they know what you’re thinking and you know what they’re thinking), sending you on snack runs together or somehow leaving you two behind, alone in a room. 

Or proposing an evening at the pool.

During the summer, your municipal pool stays open late at night every day, and on week evenings, it doesn’t get very crowded. If you go there once the sun’s set, the atmosphere is amazing - the glow of the lights in the pool gives the whole space a bright blue hue, and the stars shine directly inside through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If you’re lucky, you and your friends might go on a night when you get the whole place to yourselves.

You know it’s a good idea. You know you’ll all have fun, but you also know you’ll have to pretend that seeing Heeseung half-naked with wet hair isn’t putting you on the verge of spontaneously combusting. The worst part is you don’t even need to use your imagination at all to conjure up that image - you’ve seen him in the hallway as he came out of the shower before, so you already know how devastatingly good he’ll look at the pool. You’re weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Getting ready for the pool and the drive there pass in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in the changing room, and all you need to do is dress down to your bikini and head towards the pool where a shirtless Heeseung will be waiting to greet you. 

You wrap your towel around your waist in an attempt to cover yourself until you actually need to get into the water. Because not only are you freaking out about seeing Heeseung in his swimsuit, you’re also nervous about him seeing you half-naked. The last time you went to the pool together, puberty still hadn’t hit either of you, and you were still in the happy years of not being self-aware of your body or of others’. Even though summer hang-outs with his friends and yours weren’t so uncommon, you’d never gone to the pool together, and the fact that you’re now dating and you know he’ll be looking at you only adds to your nerves. 

All four boys are already in the water when you, Chaeyeong and Seeun arrive, and you notice with horror that they all quiet down and study the three of you as you approach and rid yourselves of your towels, setting them on a bench before heading into the water.

Boys.

It makes Chaeyeong giggle and Seeun roll her eyes, but your whole body is burning under Heeseung’s intense gaze. You watch as his eyes slowly make their way up your body as if trying to commit each inch of you to memory. When your eyes finally lock, a smirk grows on his lips as though he couldn’t care less that you caught him so unashamedly staring. At first, you look away with a huff, but his gaze doesn’t leave you as you and the girls wade into the water towards the boys, so you fix with him a pointed glare instead.

You do your best to ignore him as you all play around in the pool, racing each other to one end and back or trying to drown each other, but that’s hard to do when he seems so set on teasing you as much as he can. He sometimes switches victims and decides to terrorize his little sister or Jake instead, but you’re still his main target. You want to be mad at him, but he seems so excited and happy that you can’t bring yourself to actually scold him. You’ve never seen him so playful, and the way he laughs carefreely, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the edges, makes your heart swell with adoration for him. 

There aren’t that many other people in the pool, mostly kids from high school, who are hogging all the inflatable pool toys - but that doesn’t pose a problem for your group. “Let’s play chicken fight!” you hear Jake say at least four times before someone actually listens to him and agrees.

Someone calls out Jay’s name - you turn your head in the direction of the voice to find that it’s Jiung, whom you vaguely recognize as one of his friends from school. From his uniform, you assume that he’s on shift as the lifeguard. Jay swims towards him and they get into conversation, conveniently leaving six people to play Jake’s game.

This is how he pairs you up - you with Heeseung (of course), him with Chaeyeong and Sunghoon with Seeun. You notice the two of them sharing a small smile, and even though it’s quite dark, you’re pretty sure you notice their faces reddening. You glance at Chaeyeong, who’s already looking at you with a surprised expression - she saw it too. Jake is too excited to play chicken fight to pay anything else attention. He explains the rules, stricter than you’d expected and many of which seem completely made up by him, and announces who will play first. Clearly, Jake takes his chicken fighting very seriously.

You and Heeseung are first up against Seeun and Sunghoon. Heeseung lowers himself underwater so you can get onto shoulders, and you hold onto his head for dear life as he comes back up, loudly releasing the breath he’d been holding in. There’s something thrilling about being so close to Heeseung around the others that you can’t help but giggle for seemingly no reason. You even bend forwards, beaming down at him as you help him push his drenched hair out of his eyes. His eyes meet yours and you giggle together - for a second, it really feels like it’s just the two of you in the pool, but then Jake calls out for you to get ready and starts the countdown for the fight to start.

It’s a bit hard to concentrate on the game when Heeseung’s large hands hold tightly onto your bare thighs, but you do your best to will any impure thoughts away and focus on getting Seeun off of Sunghoon’s shoulders. You both laugh as you grab onto each other, trying to make the other fall while the boys splash each other with water. It’s a tense game that has Jake and Chaeyeong cheering from where they sit on the edge of the pool, and your balance is thrown off a couple times (when Seeun gets into a game, she stops at nothing to win), but Heeseung’s legs are strong and he’s always quick to steady you before you can fall over. 

A loud noise coming from the other kids in the pool momentarily catches your attention, but Seeun immediately pounces on you, not unlike a predator on its prey. With a yelp, you fall back into the water, bringing Heeseung down with you. When you come back to the surface, the sound of your opponents celebrating their victory is no more than a faint ring in your ears - the feeling of Heeseung wrapping his arm around your waist and the way he beams down at you, murmuring that you did a good job, make you forget about everything and everyone around you. Your gazes only stay locked like this for maybe two seconds, but you swear time stops for a bit.

Jake’s voice snaps you out of your daze, and you and Heeseung take his and Chaeyeong’s seats on the side of the pool while they get ready to challenge Seeun and Sunghoon. You’re relieved to find that you actually manage to hoist yourself up out of the water and onto the pool’s edge without making a fool of yourself in front of Heeseung. 

You want to watch the game peacefully and cheer on your friends, but Heeseung is making it a bit hard. He really, really doesn’t need to be sitting this close to you. He’s leaning back on his palms, toned stomach and chest on display, which is already attractive enough, but his right thigh is also pressed flush against your left one, so much so that you know it has to be intentional. Because he’s placed his right palm close behind you, you can feel his right arm against your lower back as well, and you’re almost tempted to lean back against it. 

You’re completely lost in thought, brain only focused on everywhere your body and Heeseung’s touch. It’s like he can see into your mind - he lightly pinches your hip, just underneath the string of your bikini bottoms, and you almost let out a loud gasp. But you manage to keep it down and sit up straight instead, looking at him over your shoulder like he just killed your entire family. He has the audacity to laugh. 

This man really has no shame, rendering you unable to think straight in front of everyone like this. Although, to be fair, it’s also partly your fault for reacting so much to such small things. 

“Hey guys,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and you turn your head to find Jiung and Jay walking towards you. There’s a chorus of hey Jiungs from the four in the water, but they quickly get their heads back in the game. Jay stays standing, watching his friends fight while Jiung crouches behind you and Heeseung.

“So are you guys finally together?” he asks excitedly, a genuine grin on his face, and both you and Heeseung choke on your own saliva. Did everyone know about your mutual crushes before you two did?!

You exchange a glance with Heeseung but quickly look away, suddenly finding great interest in Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s tactics to make each other fall over.

Heeseung’s eyes dart between your face and Jiung’s as he answers, as if scared he might say one wrong word and offend you in some way. “Um, yeah, we are. But we’re not really… telling people, I guess.”

Jiung gasps in delight, clasping Heeseung’s shoulder in what you guess is a congratulatory gesture. “Keeping it lowkey. Got it. Congrats, you guys. Jay told me about you, like, three years ago, and I’ve been weirdly invested ever since,” he admits honestly, and you try hard to fight back the grin threatening to spread on your lips. You’d never even spoken to Choi Jiung before.

From your peripheral, you can make out Heeseung turning his head to glare at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Jay,” he mumbles.

A loud splash catches everyone’s attention; Chaeyeong has fallen off of Jake’s shoulders, and the other two are celebrating their second win in a row. Your friend just laughs, getting her long hair out of her face, but Jake is practically fuming.

“You guys make a pretty good team, I guess,” he says, and even though it’s supposed to be a compliment, he really doesn’t sound happy about it. 

“We do, don’t we?” Sunghoon echoes, looking up at Seeun with a smile.

“We do,” she answers with a giggle.

A giggle.

Seeun didn’t giggle. Unless… 

You lock eyes with Chaeyeong. She looks just as surprised as you feel. You tilt your head towards the two lovebirds, who seem lost in their own world, Sunghoon jumping around in the water with Seeun still on his shoulders and laughing. Chaeyeong nods fervently, as if screaming, “I know, I’m seeing it too!”

Seeun didn’t giggle, unless she had a crush on someone. You very much remember the day in freshman year when her middle school crush Kim Sunwoo, a senior at the time, picked up her locker keys that she had dropped in the hallway. The way she turned around when he tapped on her shoulder, awestruck as he smiled, handing her her keys, was straight out of a movie. She blushed and giggled to herself about it for the next two weeks.

You turn to look at Heeseung, but he’s busy listening to Jake, Jay and Jiung as they come up with a strategy to make the victors lose next time around. You internally roll your eyes at their obliviousness, but at least now you know why Heeseung had never figured out you liked him back.

“C’mon Jiung, let’s go beat their arrogant asses,” Jay then prompts, making his friend chuckle and get into the water. They wade their way towards the others, and when Jiung gets on Jay’s shoulders, Seeun’s game face is back on. Your friend can be quite scary.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the pool, lifeguard boy?” Sunghoon taunts like a three-year-old, although you’re not sure that “lifeguard boy” is much of an insult. It’s generally accepted that lifeguards are pretty cool.

“Everyone left, dumbass,” Jiung answers plainly. “It’s just us.”

You all look around, and indeed, the high school kids are gone, which means you have the whole place to yourselves. 

Seeun looks back at Jiung with a smirk. “Good for you. At least those kids won’t see how much of a loser you are when we destroy you and Jay.”

Chaeyeong and Jake ‘ooh’ at her threat while you and Heeseung watch amusedly. You can’t help but think it isn’t that serious, but seeing your friends so into the game is quite fun.

“Bring it on!” Jiung exclaims, and neither team lets Jake count down before they start attacking each other. The poor guy tries to stop Seeun and Jiung from playing so dirty, reminding them that hair-pulling and armpit-tickling are forbidden, but the two really couldn’t care less, so he quickly gives up trying to make them abide by the rules.

Chaeyeong comes to sit next to you and nudges your shoulder with her own to get your attention. “What do you think’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon? It’s definitely new.”

You almost hear the boys’ necks crack as they whip their heads to look at you. “Something’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon?” they whisper-scream at the same time. You’re glad the topic subjects are too engrossed in their game to hear anything.

You chuckle at their reaction but Chaeyeong rolls her eyes. “Obviously. They’ve been acting like teenagers this whole evening.”

“They are teenagers,” Heeseung says with a slight frown as he watches his sister and his friend. “They’re eighteen and nineteen.”

Chaeyeong tuts. “That’s not important. Plus, you really don’t get to anything, Heeseung, when you’ve been going around fucking your sister’s best-”

Jake starts immediately howling of laughter, but all you want in that moment is to let yourself drown in the water and never have to face your friend ever again.

Heeseung’s eyes are wide and his hands are frantically shaking ‘no’ as incoherent protests spill out of his lips. “I- no- we haven’t, we’re not-” He sighs defeatedly when Jake just laughs harder and Chaeyeong joins in. 

She knows you guys haven’t done anything of that sort yet, you’ve been telling her - or rather she’s been making you tell her - everything that happens between you and Heeseung. She’s just teasing you, and it’s really working, and you hate her for it. You fix her with a glare that does nothing to make her laughter stop. When you look at Heeseung, his eyebrows have furrowed deeper, and a light blush has spread all over his face, ears and even his neck. With a small pout on his lips, he’s never looked more adorable. Nothing beats the sight of a flustered and slightly mad Heeseung.

His hands have returned to his lap, his right one fidgeting with the hem of his swim trunks. In a moment of boldness, you decide to take it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you smile at him - to be honest, you were also slightly amused by Chaeyeong’s words. She was right; he really couldn’t say anything about his sister liking one of his friends when he’d made out with you so often. 

You notice with satisfaction that he can’t keep eye contact and that the color on his face deepens.

You all turn back to the tense game in front of you, noting with surprise that Seeun actually seems to have the upper hand over Jiung. She must be a seasoned chicken fighter, because she loses neither her balance nor her grip on Jiung once. The older boy doesn’t even yelp when he falls into the water, as if he’d seen it coming. Beaming proudly, Seeun gets off of Sunghoon’s shoulders and the two share a quick celebratory hug before shaking their opponents’ hands. The four of them swim their way towards you and you all hang out for a while, letting the fighters regain their energy. 

“There’s something I’m not really supposed to do…” Jiung then says, and chuckles when he feels seven pairs of eyes watching him intently. “But I have the keys to the slides, and I know how to operate them.” Everyone cheers before he can even finish his sentence, and Jake and Chaeyeong are quick to get out of the water and run upstairs to the entrance of the slides. Jiung hurries to get the keys and follow them, the rest of you close behind.

Your heart starts beating loudly as soon as you place your foot on the first step. You try to ignore it - you’d never been a fan of attractions like big water slides or roller coasters, but you should get over it one day or another. Might as well try today.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, but once you’ve reached the slides and Jiung gets them running, the loud gush of water falling rapidly makes you feel like you’re going to faint. Seeun’s screams as she goes down, even though they’re from excitement, don’t help your lightheadedness. 

When Jake pushes himself down the slide, you clear your throat to speak. You hadn’t even realized how dry your throat had gotten, and the shakiness in your voice takes you aback. “Um, I think I’m gonna sit this one out, guys. I’m not feeling too well.”

Everyone turns to you with a worried expression, and from your peripheral, you notice Heeseung’s hand jolting up towards you, but he stops himself before he actually touches you.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t like slides,” Chaeyeong says with a pout.

“There’s nothing to be scared of! This is totally safe,” Jiung tries to reassure, but for some reason, his eagerness makes you even more doubtful.

“We can go together,” Heeseung suddenly offers. Judging from his expression, he seems surprised at his own words, as if he’d spoken out loud without realizing it. A chorus of agreement rises from the group, and Heeseung’s smile as he looks down at you makes you think that it might be okay to try - although you’re not sure if that’s because you want to get over your fear of slides, or if it’s because the idea of Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and keeping you safe is very alluring. 

“O-okay,” you answer, and his smile widens.

You wait until everyone except for Jiung has gone down. Heeseung stands behind you the whole time, a calming hand on your shoulder and the other playing with your drying hair, and his presence actually does wonders to soothe you. When it’s your turn, you sit down right at the top of the slide, trying not to freak out from the feeling of the gushes of water underneath your thighs. For once, Heeseung’s touch as he sits behind you, encaging your body between his legs and his arms, is reassuring rather than fatally heart-fluttering. Now you understand what people mean when they say they feel like nothing can hurt them as long as they’re in their lover’s arms.

“You ready?” Jiung calls out. You’re too nervous to make a peep, only able to nod, so Heeseung answers for you.

“We are.” Just before Jiung can give Heeseung a push, the boy behind you bends down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

You hum back but the faint sound is drowned out by the noise around you as you’re whisked down the slide. It’s so loud and so fast that you’re sure you’d have been screaming like you were being murdered had Heeseung not been there to calm you down. The grip you have on his hands probably hurts, but he doesn’t complain, just laughs from the adrenaline the ride is giving him, and his calmness manages to make your heart stay calm.

You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut until he told you to open them. The previous flashing lights that had overwhelmed you even with your eyes closed were over, and when you blink your eyes open, you’re fascinated to find that there is no top over the slide, letting the stars shine down on you in all their glory. The feeling of the night breeze against your skin is surprisingly refreshing, and you actually let out a ‘wow,’ all of your previous anxiety slowly leaving your body. This time, when Heeseung giggles against your ear, you actually join him. 

Your friends are the sweetest, and when you reach the end of the slide and fall into the water, they’re all clapping and cheering for you as if you’d just come first place in a marathon. You discern a sort of inquisitive look on Seeun’s face as she looks at you and her brother, but you decide to not pay it too much attention and swim away from the slide for Jiung’s arrival.

“So? Wasn’t too bad, right?” Heeseung asks with a grin, his hand sneakily finding yours underwater.

“No, it was nice, actually. Doesn’t mean I’m going a second time, though,” you reply, and he chuckles. You force yourself to look away from his smiling face because you know how easily you can get lost in his gaze, and you’d rather not raise any more suspicion. You swim to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up out of the water so you can dry off a bit in the night air.

Jiung whoops his whole way down, and as soon as he comes back to the surface, he asks who wants to go again. Everyone except for you and Heeseung raise their hands. “You’re not going again?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

He’s still smiling, and you wished it was just the two of you so you could kiss that pretty smile right off his face. “No, one time was enough for me. I’ll stay here with you.”

This, of course, elicits an obnoxious chorus of ‘ooh’s from your friends. “O-kay,” Chaeyeong says in a singsong voice.

“We’ll leave you two to it, then,” Jake adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You hadn’t known you had such murderous tendencies in you until you met this boy.

When you catch Seeun’s gaze, she’s looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows. For a split second, you feel like you’re gonna crumble - she’s gonna figure it out, and she’ll hate you and never speak to you again, and- but then she smiles, just a tiny hint of a smile, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this might be fine after all.

You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding when she walks away with the others, but a second breath gets caught in your throat right away when Heeseung crosses his arms over your lap, and you realize it’s gonna be just you two for a little while now. It’s exactly what you had wished for not even a minute ago, but now that it’s actually happening, your heart starts beating wildly once again. 

“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you adore so much.

A grin breaks out on your face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly as your hand rakes through his dark locks. “Thank you,” you reply just as quietly. “I would never have done something like that on my own.”

He opens his eyes again. The way he looks at you makes you wonder what he sees in your eyes that has him so captivated. You just hope he can’t hear the loudness of your beating heart.

He presses himself closer to you, somewhat forcing your thighs open to accommodate his body in between them, and wraps his arms around your waist. Even if he can’t hear your heartbeat, he can surely hear your shaky intake of breath as he places a soft kiss to the top of your thigh before resting his cheek against it, closing his eyes like he’s planning on napping right there. Your fingers are still in his hair but your brain has stopped computing, so they stay immobile. You try to stay calm so as not to disturb the position Heeseung is in, but your stomach has never been so swarmed by butterflies as now. 

Somehow, this feeling is even scarier than going down the slide - maybe because you knew the slide would end at some point. This feels like it might consume you whole and stay with you for the rest of your life. The worst part is you don’t even know exactly what it is that you’re feeling. But it’s everywhere. It makes your fingertips sizzle with electricity, it makes your head almost ache, and it twists your insides all around, but it’s also weirdly pleasant.

It makes you want more.

You can’t believe one simple kiss on your thigh is making you react this way, but now that you’ve felt it, it’s as though you might die if you don’t get to have it over and over again; you already know that a second or a third time won’t be enough either.

“Heeseung?” you call, his name coming out like a question, and his head whips up so quickly you think he might have been waiting for you to say something.

“Yeah?” he replies, something that sounds like anticipation making his voice come out as a whisper. 

You weren’t even completely sure what it was you wanted to say, but the way Heeseung looks up at you eradicates any train of thought you’d had. It’s a different type of gaze than before, something you’d only gotten glimpses of during particularly heated make-out sessions but that Heeseung had always seemed to reign in. Hooded eyes that are darker than usual, that seem to be in some sort of a daze, giving the impression that he isn’t quite thinking straight. You’re sure you’ve also had that look in your eyes more than once, when Heeseung’s hand brushed along a particularly sensitive spot on your back or when he absent-mindedly thrusted his hips against yours as you straddled his lap in the backseat, making you moan into his mouth as he hurriedly apologized for getting carried away. You didn’t know how to tell him you were ready for whatever it was he wanted, so you always shushed him with an “it’s okay” and resumed kissing him feverishly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t press yourself down against his bulge - that neither of you mentioned, but both knew was there - just to get a reaction out of him once in a while, and to get that fire-like feeling in your belly you were starting to crave more and more.

You try to push those far-from-innocent thoughts away from your mind and come up with something to say, but then someone disturbs your peace. Indeed, you hear Jake before you see him. “Heeseung and Y/N, you better not be smooching when I get there!”

Heeseung sighs deeply, a real, pained, frustrated sigh, and you’re glad you’re not the only one going crazy because of your friends. It’s like everyone has forgotten that you and Heeseung are supposed to be a secret. Reluctantly, he detaches himself from you and makes his way next to you, body still in the water but forearms resting on the ground next to the pool.

Another hour or so passes before stomachs start growling from too much fooling around in the water and you all agree to go home. Sadly, there’s nothing open so late in the night in your town, and none of you can be asked to drive all the way to the nearest city for food. On the whole drive home, Chaeyeong bombards Seeun with questions about Sunghoon. Seeun tries to avoid it at first, looking out the window to hide her growing blush, but once the two girls are similar in that once they have set their mind on something, you know they’ll get it. It only takes two minutes of arguing for Seeun to start spilling. 

“Well… I’ve known him for a really long time, right? Him and Jay became friends right away, just like the three of us did. I’ve always associated him with Heeseung, so I never thought of him that way…”

“What way?” Chaeyeong cuts in, although she knows exactly what Seeun means.

“Like- like more than a friend,” Seeun explains, voice getting quieter the more she speaks. Chaeyeong squeals in excitement and you chuckle.

“So what happened?” Chaeyeong prompts, and you almost want to remind her to focus on the road. You don’t need to get into a car accident over Seeun’s love life.

Seeun sighs like she’s exasperated by Chaeyeong, but you catch her small smile in the rearview mirror and you know she’s actually happy to be talking about this with you guys. “So, you know that movie night we had?” she starts, waiting for the two of you to nod. You try not to think about what you did on that movie night. “Well, we were sitting next to each other, which usually would’ve been totally fine, right, but for some reason, it made me feel super nervous that night. Like I was hyper-aware of his presence next to me. I could actually smell him, and oh my God, he smells so good, I don’t know how I’d never realized that-”

You and Chaeyeong burst into laughter at that, and Seeun can’t help but join in. “Smelling good is definitely attractive,” you chime in, thinking about how intoxicating it is to have your nose buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck and get a whiff of his scent.

“And, like, I’ve always known Sunghoon was handsome, right, I’m not blind, but I swear I never felt a particular type of way about him before then, just ‘cause I always saw him as one of my loser brother’s loser friends,” she says, and you make a mental note to repeat that to Heeseung later, “And at first I thought I was going crazy, that I was just feeling that way ‘cause we were sitting so close together in a dark room and everything, but then our knees touched, and I was like, ‘okay, I shouldn’t be losing my shit just ‘cause our knees touched,’ but I was losing my shit-”

She’s retelling the story in such a dramatic, un-Seeun-like and very Chaeyeong-like way that you can’t stop laughing, your stomach almost starting to hurt. “Which is why I went to bed during the second movie. And after that, I was thinking about him so much it was so weird, and I thought I was doomed ‘cause I didn’t wanna have a crush on my brother’s best friend, right?” she says, and Chaeyeong’s and your eyes meet for a second in the mirror. “But then you know that fair thing they had in town last week? You guys wouldn’t volunteer with me, but he was volunteering too, so we spent, like, three days in a row together, and it was really, really fun. We would spend the whole day together, eat together, even hang out afterwards and everything. And then we started texting, and today was the first time we saw each other again since then, actually…” She takes a deep breath there and laughs, as if relieved to have finally let it all out. 

“This is amazing news. Absolutely fantastic news,” Chaeyeong beams. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”

“I really wanted to but I was scared I was making up a bunch of stuff in my mind and he still saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s sister. If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately, but I don’t know, I was already trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was starting to like this guy I’ve known my whole life, so I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”

If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately. You know that feeling all too well. It makes you think that you should just go ahead and tell Seeun about you and Heeseung, but after years of conditioning yourself that she could never find out about your crush on her brother, and now that you’re dating him, it’s not easy to just come out with it.

Your attention had drifted away from the conversation for a bit but you tune back in when Chaeyeong mentions college. “Plus, he goes to our state university, right? Just like us! That means you guys don’t have to worry about long distance, same for Heeseung and Y/N-” Chaeyeong’s eyes widen immediately when she realizes what she did. 

“Heeseung and Y/N?” Seeun echoes, searching for your face in the rearview mirror.

Once more, you can thank your friend’s impeccable bullshitting abilities. “Oh, no, I just meant that even though she’s going to a different college than us, she’ll still know someone there. Not that they wouldn’t have to worry about long distance like you and Sunghoon.”

“Right,” Seeun answers, eyes still fixated on you in the mirror. An uncomfortable beat passes before she speaks again. “But is there… is there something happening between you and Heeseung, Y/N?”

You’d seen the question coming, but it still somehow manages to punch you in the stomach. Before you can even think of a way to tell your friend the truth in the most delicate way possible, your reflexes and old habits kick in. “No,” you simply reply, the lie coming to you way too easily. You hope she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice - you’re definitely not as good a liar as Chaeyeong. “I mean, we’ve gotten closer this summer, but that’s about it.” 

Chaeyeong stays silent, her eyes on the road. You’re less than a minute away from Seeun’s house, but you wish you could just get there already and have this conversation be over.

“Okay, if you say so,” she says, not sounding fully convinced. “But, you know, if there was, I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be mad. A little weirded out, maybe, but not mad.” She’s looking at you so intently as she says this that you think she must know, otherwise she wouldn’t be saying all this. It’s like she’s asking you to just tell her, but still, you can’t bring yourself to do it. As if you’ve dug your own grave and have to lie in it.

Heeseung’s car is already in the driveway when you reach the Lees’ house, and he must have already gone up to his room because he isn’t in the kitchen or in the living room. You feel a slight pang of disappointment in your heart at the thought of not seeing him again tonight, even though it’s already so late, but you have a feeling you’ll stay up for hours thinking about his warm hands and his lips.

“Shower then food?” Seeun proposes when you’re all done taking your shoes off. You all nod and head up to her room. Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung. Then another, and another, and the sound piques your friends’ interest. 

“Who’s spamming you?” Chaeyeong asks, but she figures it out as soon as she sees the lovestruck smile on your face.

“Oh, just a groupchat I’m in,” you reply without looking up from your phone.

hee: Can you drop by my room? hee: Find an excuse to leave and come and see me :D hee: I want to see you. hee: Oh sorry about the period I know you don’t like that hee: I want to see you <;3 hee: !!!!!!!!! hee: Please you: be there in a min hee you: i wanna see u too hee: K hee: :DDD

“Y/N, you wanna go first?” Seeun asks, snapping you out of it.

“Huh?”

“The shower. You wanna go first?” she repeats, amused by your sudden weird behavior.

“Oh, actually, um, I remembered my mom wanted to go to the farmers’ market at, like, nine tomorrow, so I should probably just sleep at home,” you say, which is actually true. You’ve never been so thankful for your mom’s love of organic and local produce. Thankfully, your friends also know about it, so they don’t question it at all and just wish you a good night.

Little do they know that you’re actually headed straight for Heeseung’s bedroom rather than your own. Normally, your paranoid brain would tell you that your friends, especially Seeun, might question why they didn’t hear the sound of the front door closing, but you doubt they’ll actually be paying attention to it.

You make a beeline for Heeseung’s room, not wanting to be caught by one of the girls as they go to the bathroom. Heeseung seems to be waiting for you, because you’ve barely knocked on his door and he’s already taking your hand, pulling you into his room.

It’s the first time you’ve been here since you were a kid, and you’re sure there’s many things on the walls and shelves to pick Heeseung’s brain about, any and every piece of himself interesting to you, but there’s one thing that stands out to you; it’s just the two of you in here. It makes your heart skip a beat in anticipation.

“Where’s Jake?”

Heeseung smiles shyly and looks down at your question. “I sort of, um, kicked him out.” You whip your head towards him at his words, looking at him with wide eyes. He chuckles. “I made him sleep over at Jay’s house. I really wanted to sneak you in here tonight.”

And just to make sure you really understand what he means by that, he fixes you with a look that can’t be misinterpreted. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches you, his smirk growing when he sees the obvious effect it has on you. He places his hands on your hips and he’s close enough for you to see how dilated his pupils are. He almost looks hungry, like he could just eat you whole, and it makes you weak in the knees. Heat rises to your face when you think about what must be going on in his head, especially since it’s probably not far from the thoughts that have been plaguing you for a while now. Unconsciously, you bring your legs closer together, and the way his eyes dip down then back up to your face with an arch of his brow like he knows what you’re thinking drives you slightly insane.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until he tilts his head at you, an amused expression on his face. “What is it, doll?” he asks, but his tone makes you inclined to think he knows exactly what it is.

You also know, but you don’t know how to put it into words. So, instead, you take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He smells like chlorine and something that’s entirely his, and you swear you’ve never smelled anything so intoxicating in your life. “Heeseung,” you murmur, voice muffled as your lips move against his skin.

“Yes?” he answers in that same amused, knowing tone. Your clear-mindedness starts to slip away from you as it often does when you’re near him.

When you repeat his name, this time more whiny as you wrap your arms tighter and bury your face deeper, he chuckles softly, a low, deep sound that sends electrifying shivers right down your spine. He places both hands on the sides of your face to make you lean back and look up at him. He can’t help but chuckle again at the pout on your lips, although your slightly hooded eyes make his stomach twist into the familiar tight knot of desire.

“I was gonna take a shower, if you’d like to join me,” he says, a glint of mischief playing in his eyes, and your own widening immediately at his words, or rather at the meaning behind them.

“A shower?!” you whisper-yell back. 

He just laughs again and nods. “Mh-hm. We can keep our swimsuits on.” He looks down at you, at your eyes that are still wide, but now more out of anticipation than shock, at the way they seem to search for reassurance in his own. You seem to find what you’re looking for, because you nod.

“We just have to wait until Seeun and Chaeyeong are done, okay? I told Seeun to text me when the bathroom’s free.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then bends down to close the distance between the two of you, just as he’s done many times before, by pressing his lips to yours. He wants to tell you that he’s fine with whatever you want to do; that you can go as fast or as slow as you want; that no matter what, he’ll always be there to hold you and kiss you and call you pretty.

But he’s not the best with words, so he opts for kissing you gently instead, probably the slowest kiss you’ve ever shared, as if he's scared you might suddenly run away from him and he'll lose your warmth.

He’s never been as relieved as when he feels you not only reciprocating the kiss, but deepening it, asking for more when you start to whine into his mouth and slightly claw at his back. It takes everything in him to pull away from you, but there’s more comfortable ways to make out, including ones that don’t involve you bending your neck backwards trying to reach his lips, so he tugs at your hand for you to follow him. “C’mere,” he says, leading you to his bed. He sits on the edge, and, with a smile you can only describe as devilish, pats his lap for you to straddle. 

You oblige immediately, of course, and even though you’ve done this many times before, it feels like the backseat of his car and his bed are worlds apart. It feels charged with an intimacy you two haven’t quite shared before, like you’re finally letting go of everything that might’ve been holding you back before and you’re now ready to take a step further together. 

At least, that’s how you feel, but if the way he sighs into your mouth as soon as you press your lips to his, and the way his hands roam your back like trying not to leave an inch of your body untouched are anything to go by, then it seems like he feels the same way.

There’s a desperation to the kiss that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire. Your hands quickly make their way to what seems their favorite place, Heeseung’s hair, and your fingers rake through it, gripping at the strands like you might float into space if you let go of him. His hands slowly make their way down your back until they reach your ass, sneaking underneath your loose shorts to grab at the skin underneath. He brings you closer to him, pressing you down onto his bulge, and it hits such a sweet spot between your thighs that you can’t fight back against the moan that makes its way out of your lips.

Heeseung is quick to shush you, and for some reason, it only makes the fire in your belly burn harder. “Shh, you have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” He continues to guide your movements against him, rubbing over that spot over and over again. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, and you know you can’t answer him, because if a sound comes out of mouth, it’ll be a moan, and not words.

But Heeseung isn’t happy with that. “Hm? I asked you a question, Y/N.”

What he is happy with is the whimper you let out at his words. “Y-yes, I’ll be quiet,” you breathe out like even saying a few words is too complicated for you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and even though you were already a mess before, these are the words that really do you in. With a small whine, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and bury your face where his jawline meets his ear, hoping that any sound coming from your mouth will be muffled there. You know there’s no point trying to kiss him right now; you won’t be able to focus on that and grind on him at the same time. 

Truth be told, Heeseung has little to no idea what he’s doing. He’s never gotten this far with anyone before, and now that he’s assumed a more dominant position, since that’s what he’d gathered you’d like from your backseat sessions, he’s scared he might have made this a lot harder for him. He wants to do his best for you and guide you through what he knows are your first sexual or even romantic experiences, but the thing is, this is also the first time for him. It’s the first time he’s had this intense, almost ravaging craving to go further with someone, to touch and be touched and just cherish every single inch of someone’s body. 

All he knows about sex, he’s gathered from porn, conversations with his guy friends, and Yunjin’s “spicy” romance novels. He has enough critical thinking skills to know that none of these are a hundred percent reliable sources, but he figured that the novels would be the closest to what women actually like.

He’d been scared sex and everything around it would be the most complicated puzzle he’d have to put together in his life. But in reality, he’s been relieved to find everything has come fairly easily. He just has to pay attention to the things you like; you like it when he takes the lead, so he does; you like it when he compliments you, so he does; you like it when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, so he does. He knows there’s still many things you like that he hasn’t found out about, but he’s more than eager to learn about each and every one of them. Apparently, you really like whatever it is the two of you are doing right now, so much so that he can feel your legs start to shake and can hear you containing your moans, so he keeps on doing it.

As for him? Well, he likes you. His biggest turn-on is seeing you turned on. Seeing your swollen lips and heavy eyelids after a make-out session, hearing your small moans and heavy breathing, feeling you rest your body against his and letting him make you feel good, like you’re doing right now, that’s what gets him going. He’s always so focused on your pleasure that he could almost forget about his own. So, it’s only when you announce through broken moans that you think you’re gonna cum that he realizes he’s dangerously close to finishing too. “That’s okay, baby, cum for me,” he coos, and that’s all you need to come undone.

He really wants to keep it in, really doesn’t want to jizz inside his pants like a highschooler, but it’s to no avail. In his defense, it’s really, really hard not to when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it and when his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, is the only thing you can say as you cum against him. It’s something right out of a young Heeseung wet dream, and now that present-day Heeseung is actually experiencing it, he can say with pride that this is much better than a dream.

You both take a few seconds to come down from your highs, the first that you’ve shared together. It feels surreal. When you find the strength to lift your head and face Heeseung again, the look on his face is so hot, you think you might cum again from the sight alone. Hair sticking to his forehead, already-plump lips completely red, wet and swollen and curled up into a small smile. You press your foreheads together and laugh for no reason other than you couldn’t get happier than this. Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you kiss him again. You’re only eighteen, but you don’t think life gets much better than this.

Then Heeseung’s phone dings with a text from Seeun: bathroom’s free. Heeseung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Wanna go get cleaned up?”

You giggle at his renewed eagerness and nod, letting him take your hand and guide you stealthily to the bathroom he and Seeun share. Thank God for locks.

Once inside, he lets go of your hand and turns on the mirror light rather than the bright, harsh overhead one, giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere. There’s a neck-scratching moment where neither you or Heeseung know what to do, your eyes darting nervously around the room, but it passes by when Heeseung turns around, quickly strips down to his swimming trunks once more and gets into the shower. He has his back next to you when he turns it on and finds his desired temperature, but he leaves the shower door open for you - you know he’s waiting for you to get in with him, but you’re stuck in place as you watch the water fall rapidly down his back and his muscles slightly shift out of relaxation. 

You’d seen him half-naked and wet just an hour ago, and it’d already messed with your head, but this was so much worse. Maybe it was the heat slowly rising in the room, maybe it was the fact that you could join him at any moment and get to touch him, whatever it was, it was making it hard to breathe. You practically choke when he turns back around, facing you and smiling when he realizes you haven’t moved an inch. 

“You’re not coming?” he asks quietly, and you know you can’t just stand and stare forever - you’ve done too much of that already. Your heart beats like crazy as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, then rid yourself of your shorts, because although he’d already seen you in your swimsuit, it’s nerve-wracking to undress right when you know he’s watching.

His smile hasn’t left his face when you step in and close the shower door, and he’s looking at you so intently that you have to focus on something other than his eyes, so you settle on his collarbones. Everything about him is pretty, you realize. 

You suck in a breath when he places one of his hands on your waist, then the other, and makes you get under the water with him. It’s the perfect temperature for you, not too hot that it burns but just enough to make your skin tingle, and you wonder how many more of these small things you have in common. 

“Y/N…” he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the shower. You finally dare to meet his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he asks with a smile, and just like that, you have to look away again, resting your forehead against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from him. Receiving a compliment from Heeseung is one thing, being in the shower with him is another; both happening at the same time is too much for you to handle. Somehow cumming in his lap wasn’t enough to rid you completely of your shyness around him. He chuckles at your reaction and wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand caresses up and down your back. 

“You have,” you manage to reply even though his touch is close to making your mind go blank.

“Well, let me say it again.” He bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear, lips tickling it when he speaks next. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words paired with his low voice make your core throb. You try not to gulp when he stands back up to his full height and smirks down at you - even though it’s impossible that he’s grown any taller in the last hour, it still feels like he towers over you much more than before. 

He doesn’t say anything more, your reaction apparently enough to satisfy him, and he reaches behind you for the body wash. He squeezes a dollop of it into his palm, and you think he’ll clean himself up, so you let out a small ‘oh’ of surprise when his hands touch the area above your chest, then start to spread the gel all over your arms, back and stomach. You watch as he lowers himself to lather your legs in the product as well, and you’re not sure why the sight of Heeseung looking up at you from this position makes your heart flutter so much. The illusion is slightly broken, though, when he decides to press a kiss to your stomach but immediately regrets it. “Soap,” he simply says before rinsing his lips with the shower water.

You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so cute sometimes, you know that?” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth naturally, and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. When you lean back, Heeseung is staring right at you, stunned.

“I’m the one who does that,” he says, a light tone of protest to his voice.

“Does what?”

“Compliments you then kisses you,” he answers with a pout, but it only makes you laugh more.

You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself flush against him and letting the water fall on top of your bodies. Before you can even comprehend the thought forming in your head at that moment, your lips betray you and words fall out of them against your will. “God, I love you so much.”

In the split second after you’ve said that, the realization hits you and your whole body stiffens. Slowly, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you lean back to see Heeseung’s reaction. He looks down at you in a mix of shock and pure, unfiltered happiness, eyebrows raised high but his smile reaches his ears. “You love me, huh?”

“Heeseung, I-”

“Good, because I love you too, Y/N.”

All the dread you felt rushes out of your body and is immediately replaced with relief. In the minute you’d realized you actually loved Heeseung and didn’t just have a big fat crush on him, you had the reassurance that he loved you, too. Life really can’t get any better than this.

Your lips find each other like second nature, but kissing is hard when you’re both so high on your confessions that you can’t stop giggling. You feel your whole body melt for him when he starts peppering kisses all over your face, saying “I love you” in between each peck. 

You take his face in your hands to steady his head and kiss him on the lips, a deep, firm kiss that has him wrapping his arms tightly around you and bringing you close to him. It’s like a switch flips inside of him, and all his playfulness transforms into intensity, and suddenly all he can think about is your lips on his and your body against his. You try not to gulp at the feeling of his growing hardness pressed against your stomach. What you’d done on the bed earlier had opened up a whole new world of sensation for the both of you to discover, and you found that you were already craving it again. 

There’s not much to be said in a situation like this; you both know what the other is thinking, it’s just a matter of who will act first. Usually, you’d rely on Heeseung to make the first move, or you’d do it yourself if you were feeling impatient; but right now, he seems to be enjoying making you squirm and taking his sweet time, hands roaming your back like he doesn’t know you’re desperate for more.

So you do what you’re usually too shy to do, and ask for what you want directly. “Heeseung, please,” you plead quietly against his lips, eyes shut tight as if in pain.

You can feel the smile that grows on his lips at your words. “Please, what?”

You take a shaky breath in and press wet kisses along his jawline before you answer. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Anything you want, doll.” 

You can feel the blood pumping through your veins as you wait for whatever Heeseung will do next, but for some reason, he’s decided not to do anything in a hurry. He slows the kiss down as his fingers trail up and down your sides at snail’s pace, and you have half a mind to just tell him to hurry up already, but there’s something delicious about being on edge like this, desperately waiting for your release.

One of his hands then makes its way to your back, finding the string of your bikini top and playing with it. “Can I take this off?” he asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. As soon as you nod, he unties it and pulls the fabric away from your body, letting it drop at his feet and leaving your upper body completely naked for him. Your cheeks blaze under his fascinated eyes, but in that moment, his gaze really does make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

His other hand that had patiently rested on your waist makes its way up your front until it reaches your breasts. 

You hadn’t even known your nipples were this sensitive until his palm brushes against one of them, making your body jolt of its own accord. Heeseung seems to like that reaction, so he starts playing with it more, twisting it lightly between his fingers, eliciting moans from you (that you try to keep down, still conscious of the fact that anyone in the house might hear you if you were too loud) and making your back arch involuntarily. 

As his hand drifts to your other breast to pay your other nipple some well-deserved attention, you decide that Heeseung deserves as much attention as he’s giving you right now. Slowly, almost innocently, your hand snakes its way down his chest and abs to his trunks. You palm him over the fabric, hoping it makes him feel as good as his hand on your breast makes you feel. As his ministrations continue, your breathing gets shallower and shallower, but you’re glad to be having a similar effect on him - he rests his forehead against yours as a breathy moan escapes his lips, and you know you’re not doing as bad a job as you think you might be. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out after a minute of this. You hum. “I think my self-control is starting to wear out,” he says, voice shaky as his hand makes its way down your side. His touch burns more than the scorching shower water.

“Good,” you simply reply, and press your lips to his. You can let go is what you’re trying to convey through your kiss as it turns hungrier, needier, more impatient. 

Apparently he gets the message, because he’s quick to push you against the shower wall, left hand behind your head and the other holding on tight to your hip. He presses himself against you, letting you know just how much he wants you, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. This seems to spur him on - so slowly it hurts, his hand makes its way from your hips to the front of your panties. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that you feel like you might come undone right away when he’s barely even touched you.

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses his palm against your clothed sex, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss. He continues such ministrations for a bit, unhurriedly rubbing two fingers up and down your core. If he’s going slow so as not to overwhelm you, it doesn't work - you can already feel a familiar knot twisting in your stomach. You can’t even kiss him back anymore, too caught up in the feeling of his hand touching you exactly where you need him, so he settles on kissing your face and your neck. 

You swear a little bit of your soul actually leaves your body when he slips his hand underneath your bikini. He trails two fingers up along your slit, watching your face intently in the hopes that your reaction will tell him when he’s found your sensitive spot. You’ve never felt anything other than your own fingers there, and the sensation is breathtaking, especially when he starts rubbing small circles right onto your clit.

“Let me know if it feels good, okay? I’ve never actually done this before,” he admits with a small chuckle. Your eyes shoot open and you grab onto his forearm, making him halt his motions as panic bubbles inside him. “What? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’ve never done this before?” you echo his words back at him like there’s no way they might be true.

He smiles shyly and looks away, an odd mix of shame and pride at your reaction. “No, I haven’t.”

“Wow,” you breathe out, disbelieving. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing, this whole time, I thought you were like, a sex expert or something.” 

He laughs again and quickly resumes his previous actions, and any surprise you might have felt at his confession is thrown out the window when his fingers move against your clit again. “I promise you I’m making it up as I go.”

“You’re amazing,” you reply.

You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, Heeseung’s fingers going at the perfect speed and putting the exact right amount of your pressure against you like he’s done this his whole life. “Am I making you feel good?” he asks, a rhetorical question that he has to know the answer to considering your body’s reaction to him, but you still do him the favor of answering. 

“You are. Feels so, so good, Hee,” you sigh as his fingers leave your clit and start to tease at your entrance. Heeseung sighs, too, but more out of exasperation than out of pleasure.

“Let’s get rid of this, hm?” he offers, already pulling your swimming bottoms down your legs and discarding them next to your top. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, and before you know it, he’s pushed a finger inside you, and you let out the loudest moan you have all night at the feeling.

Heeseung chuckles as he shushes you gently. “Quiet, baby, okay? I know it feels good, but we don’t want to wake anyone up, now, do we?”

You shake your head fervently at his words, but in a twisted way, you care more about your current pleasure than about anyone catching you and Heeseung in the middle of the act. He curls his finger inside you, brushing right against that spot that has you seeing stars, and you let your body grow heavy, trusting him to hold you up when your legs stop working. As if one wasn’t enough, he adds a second finger, thrusting them inside you at an increasing pace that has your thighs shaking sooner than you’d like to admit.

“H-heeseung, oh my God,” you murmur, and that’s somehow enough for Heeseung to understand.

“Gonna cum, doll?”

You barely manage to answer him, your second high of the night approaching faster than you expect it to. Fingers still inside you, Heeseung brings his thumb to rub against your clit again, and five seconds later, you’re cumming all over his hands, body shaking against him and holding onto him throughout it all. You try to be as quiet as possible, and Heeseung presses his lips against yours to stifle any sound, but a few whimpers and broken moans still escape your lips.

When he’s slipped his fingers out of you, you hug him tightly, taking a few seconds to regain your breath as you come down from your high. “You did so well, baby,” Heeseung praises, lips moving against your temple before he presses a kiss there, and his words alone make you whine again. 

As soon as your sanity has somehow made its way back into your head, you remember your boyfriend’s pleasure and you press your hand against his bulge once more. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to rub your hand up and down his shaft over his swimming trunks. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

“I want to,” you reassure, dipping your fingers under the waistband of his trunks so he gets the message. When he takes them off, his fully hard dick slaps against his stomach, and even though you haven’t seen a great amount of dicks in your life, you recognize a big dick when you see one.

It’s always the nerdy, lanky ones.

As you take him in your hand, you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it feels good, yeah?”

He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his eyes stay closed. “It already feels better than anything you could imagine, baby.”

“But I’m not doing anything,” you say, slightly confused.

“Still.”

You chuckle, and Heeseung almost joins in, but any laughter is ripped from his throat as your hand, formed in a fist loosely gripping him, makes its way down his shaft, then back up. It’s a clumsy motion, and he can tell you’re doing this for the first time, but it drives him crazy anyway. The sole fact that it’s you touching him is enough to turn him into a whimpering mess. 

He has to keep himself from moaning loudly and waking up the whole house when your palm brushes against his tip, but thankfully, you notice his reaction right away. As you continue jerking him off, you make sure to pay particular attention to his tip, sweeping your thumb over it every time your hand reaches it. Fascinated, you watch the rise and fall of Heeseung’s chest, the clench of his abs, and the way his beautiful pink lips part, and listen intently to any sound that might come out of them. He’s much less chatty than before, and you can’t help but ask for reassurance from him. “Does it feel good, Hee?”

The worried tone in your voice makes his eyes flicker open. “Of course, baby. Feels amazing,” he answers with a breathless chuckle. You beam at him, and the contrast between your innocent, happy expression and the motions of your hand actually makes him see double until he closes his eyes again.

You press yourself closer to him so you can leave kisses all over his neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s apple that you know is sensitive. You’re so close that you can feel your own hand against your stomach as you fist it up and down his shaft, slowly picking up speed. You bite down against his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but definitely hard enough to garner a moan from him, and he can feel his orgasm is mere moments away by now.

“Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you so much, Hee,” you say, your voice almost a moan, and that’s what drives him over the edge. Knowing that you love him.

He spills his seed all over your hand and stomach with a choked moan and finds your lips to trap them in a feverish kiss. Just like before, the immediate reaction for the both of you is to laugh; coming down from your high and helping the other reach theirs make you feel like you’re on top of the world. You help rinse each other and you spend another five minutes shampooing the other’s hair to get the chlorine out of it, but after that, you’re out of the shower, realizing that your hands and feet have started pruning after what could have been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in the shower.

No matter how many times you tell him you can do it yourself, Heeseung insists on helping you dry off, making sure there’s not a droplet of water on your body before you head back to his room together, just as stealthily as you’d come earlier. You really hoped the sound of the shower was enough to cover any sound you made and that everyone was sleeping too deeply to realize how much time you’d spent in there anyway.

Heeseung quickly puts on clean underwear before getting into bed, then watches you with a lazy smile as you put your panties, shorts and tank top back on. “What are you staring at?” you grumble because even after everything, his intent stare makes you shy.

“You.”

You should have expected it, but it still makes your heart flutter. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not bothering to hide your grin as you get into bed with him, snuggling up to him and sighing in contentment at the feeling of his warmth against you. You’d daydreamed one too many times dreaming about what it must feel like falling asleep next to Heeseung, or even better, in his arms, and it was finally happening. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat while his fingers rake through your hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m spent,” you murmur against his skin. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep in two seconds.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nuzzling yourself closer against him and letting sleep wash over your tired body.

--

You wish you could say that you wake up the next morning because of the sunlight pouring on your face or because of Heeseung peppering your face with kisses and awaking you, but really, it’s just your 8 a.m. alarm reminding you you have to go to the market with your mom. The sound jolts you awake, like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over you. You and Heeseung have somehow barely budged from the position you fell asleep in and you want nothing more than to stay there for a couple more hours, but a promise is a promise, so with a sigh, you start to sit up. 

When Heeseung feels your body shift away from his, his arm tightens its hold around your waist almost out of its own accord, pulling you back to him. “Just five more minutes,” he pleads, voice slightly whiny and still dripping with sleep that makes butterflies erupt all over your stomach. You give in immediately.

“Just five,” you repeat, and he hums in satisfaction.

But five turns into ten turns into twenty, and when your alarm rings again, it’s already thirty past eight, and you only have fifteen minutes to go home and get ready before your mom will want to leave. 

You sigh and, once again, start to pry your limbs away from Heeseung’s, but, once again, he stops you before you can get off the bed, hand coming to grab your wrist gently. You sit up and smile affectionately down at him, brushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes during the night. He blinks his eyes open but can only look at you for a few seconds before he shuts them again, trying to hide his flustered expression under his forearm, but you can still make out his smile and the growing blush on his cheeks.

“What?” you ask quietly in the silence of the room, chuckling at your boyfriend’s cuteness.

“I just remembered last night,” he says, letting his forearm fall away from his face so he can see your reaction.

Your smile grows and you continue to play with his hair as images of last night flood your mind, a sort of fluster enveloping your whole body and making you feel light. You bend over to press soft kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and then to his lips before burying your face in the crook of his neck. His hand comes up naturally to your back, slipping under the thin fabric to graze his fingernails across your exposed skin.

“Last night was amazing, Hee. Thank you so much,” you whisper, trying not to get carried away by the feeling of his caresses.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and burying his nose there to inhale the scent of your hair. 

You count down from ten, and on zero, you sigh, pushing yourself from Heeseung for good this time. “Okay, I really have to go now.” He sits up with you, fixing you with a pout, but you won’t let him use his cuteness against you and trick you into staying. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll walk you downstairs.” When he sees you about to protest, he puts on his best smile, akin to one that an athlete would wear after winning first place. “I wanna kiss you goodbye.” 

You roll your eyes but your smile makes it obvious how delighted you are that he wants to be with you ‘til the very last second. You gather your stuff and head into the hallway. You know his parents are already at work, and even though Chaeyeong and Seeun usually sleep in until much later than now, you still want to make sure they’re asleep. You gesture at Heeseung to be quiet as you peer inside Seeun’s room quickly and quietly - if they wake up, you can just say you forgot something yesterday and came back to get it quickly, and if they don’t, you’re pretty safe to escape without getting caught.

When they don’t budge an inch, you close her door again and head down the stairs to the entrance where your shoes lay. You check your phone and realize with dread that your mom’s not going to be very happy with you, but you don’t have it in you to push Heeseung away when he insists on helping you into your shoes (they’re slip-ons) and when he wraps his arm around your middle, bringing you in for another kiss. You let yourself melt under his touch - it’s not like thirty seconds will make much of a difference now that you’re already late anyway.

“You do know that if we’re caught kissing here, we’re dead?” you breathe, pulling away slightly from Heeseung to speak. You’re still so close that you feel his lips move against yours as they curl up into a smirk.

“I know, but I wanna risk it.” And just like that, his lips are back on yours, and all other thoughts are blown away like feathers in the wind.

It’s almost dangerous how you can’t think of anything else when you’re this close to Heeseung. How his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin and his hair under your hands fill your mind up to the brim. It’s dangerous because it’s precisely in moments like these that you should think before you act, before you let yourself be consumed by him. And it’s moments like these that you look back on later and curse yourself for being so foolish.

“Heeseung? Y/N?”

Alarm fills your body as soon as you hear Seeun’s shaky voice calling out your names. She looks down at you from the stairwell, shock evident on her face and her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Your hands let go of Heeseung’s t-shirt and your arms fall limp at your sides, but other than that, you’re frozen in place. You watch as Seeun’s eyes dart between you and Heeseung and as she realizes that you’ve been hiding something big from her; that you even lied straight to her face. 

It’s only when a sob escapes her lips and she whips around, heading back upstairs to her room, that you snap out of it. You immediately go to follow her, but Heeseung calls out your name as his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look down at where your bodies touch, and your gazes lock just as the sound Seeun’s door slamming shut reverberates through the house.

“I have to talk to her,” you whisper as you wrench your wrist away from Heeseung’s hold. 

You walk away and leave him behind.

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© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

#enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios

[tonberry-yoda]

Hopeful - Ramattra

Pairing - Ramattra x reader

Warnings - too much fluff frrrr

Word Count - 3,937

Notes - this fic was inspired by this post by @lady-shimada!! i am super thankful to them for allowing me to write this wonderful idea because I absolutely love how this turned out!! this is one of my longest fics yet and I cannot express how fun this was to write!! thank you again @lady-shimada and I really hope you enjoy it!!! Have a great rest of your day/night everyone and please stay hydrated!!! <3333

You wiped the sweat off of your forehead and smiled at your work. "Does that feel better?" You asked the omnic who's arm you had just finished fixing up.

She rolled her arm and practically beamed at you, if she could of course. "Thank you! Y-You don't know how much this means to me!!" She pulled you into an embrace and you hugged her back with no hesitation.

"Of course. I'm just happy to help all that I can." Nothing felt better than seeing an omnic happy. As a human, it was rare to get along with omnics, especially after the war, but you were just glad that there was some peace in the world that you could take part in. Especially thanks to your teacher, Zenyatta, who was an omnic himself. You just wanted a better world. One in which omnics were seen as more than just robots, but another half of humans.

"How much will that be?" The omnic pulled her wallet out and started fishing out cash.

"No, please, it's on me. I don't need any money."

"Please let me pay, it's the least I could do." She started shoving money at you, but you kept declining.

"Ma'am, I'm serious. Seeing you in tip top shape is more than enough payment for me."

"You're a blessing, you know that?!" The omnic threw her arms around you once more before thanking you what seemed like a thousand times before leaving.

Genji just smiled at you from across the room. "You are very talented, y/n."

"Oh, stop it, Genij." You cleaned off a couple of tools and gave Genji a playful punch on the arm.

"It's true! I don't know what the omnics would do without someone like you. I don't know what I would do without you." He pointed to his robotic body, making you giggle a bit.

"It's seriously the least I could do. They need help, right? That's what I'm here for. To provide that help." You wiped some oil off of your face and slipped off your dirty apron. "Now I'm off to go get some food because I am exhausted."

---

"Brother, I just want to know why you're not fighting for us! For the omnics! The ones who raised you!" Ramattra exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He was on a walk with Zenyatta, as it had been years since they had last seen each other.

The two decided to get back in contact after a lot of thinking Zenyatta had done on his part. Moral of the story is: he missed Ramattra. They had an unbreakable bond that was taken away from them over a few disagreements. It's not that Zen wanted Ramattra back to change his mind. He just wanted to see him again. Without that brother-like omnic by his side, Zen was becoming a bit lonely.

"Don't you care about your people, brother?! Don't you care that they are dying?!"

"Of course I do, Ramattra," Zenyatta sat next to a nearby lake, looking up at the stars. "But doesn't everyone die?" His tone was soft and Ramattra was already getting frustrated.

"Yes! Everyone dies! But not like this, brother... not like this." He sat next to Zen, looking to the stars as well. "I just want peace for our people. I want to avenge Mondatta. I don't want it to happen all over again... especially to you." Ramattra sighed, feeling a little more at ease, waiting for Zenyatta to say something. Praying that he would agree with him.

"I understand how you must feel, brother," Zen's tone was still soft, not breaking once. "But we each have our own ways of thinking. I don't think anyone should die for the sake of others. I think in the end, we should all be equal."

"But how are we supposed to be equal when-"

Ramattra's rough tone was quickly interrupted by Zenyatta skipping a stone over the lake they were next to. "Listen, Ramattra. I invited you here because I missed you. That's all. We can have talks about war and death later, but for now," Zenyatta got up from his spot, continuing the walk. "I want to know how you've been."

---

"What did you get?" Genji walked up to you, taking a fry from your meal; the omnic he was talking to that was in recovery went back into rest mode. There were a lot of omnics that had to heal up, especially some who have seen some bad places. Your shop wasn't the cleanest, but at least you had a space for them to stay for a while.

"Well it looks like you already figured it out Mr. I Like To Steal Fries." You giggled, placing your food on a nearby table with tools strewn across it.

"Sorry, sorry," Genji put his hands in the air in joking defense. "Look, I'm just hungry too, y/n. You can't blame me."

"I thought you would be," you sighed, pulling out another bag. "So I got you some food too."

"That omnic was right... you are a blessing."

"Shut up Genji and just take the food. And you owe me a fry now!" You laughed, handing him his food.

"Do you have any more patients today?" Genji took off his mask to reveal his scar covered face. If only you could do something about that.

"I think I have one more... but it's a Junkertown patient."

"Are you serious?" Genji's mouth was full of food, shock painted on his face.

"Yeah," you said solemnly. "I hate getting those patients. Not because they're hard to fix, but because I feel so bad. The Junker Queen really fucks them up, I tell you what."

"I bet. I'm sorry." Genji looked at a patient who had been bed ridden for weeks. Another one from Junkertown, still trying to regain consciousness.

"Genji, I'm the last person you should be apologizing to." You looked down at your food, getting prepared for the patient you were going to have to help soon. You wished it didn't have to be this way between humans and omnics, but for now, this was the only thing you could do to help.

---

"Wait," Ramattra pinched the bridge of what would be his nose. "So you're telling me that you're teaching... a... human?"

"Two actually." Zenyatta said casually, watching an airplane fly by.

"Two?! Have you gone mad?!"

"Perhaps a little mad." Zen giggled to himself.

"You have got to be playing some sort of sick joke on me. I can't believe you would do something like that."

"Not all humans are bad. You do know that, right?" Zen gave Ramattra a playful look, which was returned with glaring eyes.

"Yes they are. Why else would we still be going through this pain and suffering?"

"Follow me. I want to show you something."

Ramattra sighed, but didn't argue with Zen. "Fine."

"Might I ask when the last time you spoke to a human was?"

Ramattra went silent, trying to think. "I don't really... speak to them. They made us suffer, so I make them suffer."

Zen hummed in response. "I see."

For the rest of the walk, the two omnics were silent. They didn't feel like more needed to be said, so they just listened to the nighttime birds sing and the slight breeze blow onto the nearby lake.

Ramattra loved when the world was peaceful. It was rare for him. Not often did he get to just enjoy the sounds of the world, it didn't feel like he was allowed to yet. He still had things he needed to do for his people. It was like a breath of fresh air was unheard of for Ramattra.

In that regard, he was very thankful for Zenyatta reaching out again. It was like how he used to live. And even if it wouldn't be permanent, it was nice.

"Right this way, brother." Zenyatta pointed down a dark alleyway, the only light coming from a dim lamp next to a sign that said in dark colors: "Omnic Repair". Zen opened the door to a dimly lit workshop with tired omnics lying in hospital-like beds.

Ramattra looked around the workshop, his gaze finding Genji who was sitting with an omnic that was in better condition with the rest, joking and chatting with him.

"Brother, what is thi-"

Ramattra was quickly interrupted by Zen putting his finger over what would be his mouth and pointing to you, who was hard at work fixing the omnic from Junkertown.

Ramattra turned to you and felt like everything around him had stopped. Like nothing existed in the world but you.

"Not all humans wish to see us suffer, Ramattra," Zen whispered with a smile, seeing how gentle you were with your patient.

"H-How?" Ramattra's tone was almost as soft as Zenyatta's.

"What do you mean, 'how?', brother? This is what they love to do. They want nothing more than to see an omnic live out its life."

"B-But... they're human."

"Very observant brother," Zenyatta giggled, putting his hand on Ramattra's lower back. "Why don't you say hello?" He pushed him to you, but Ramattra quickly stepped away.

"Zenyatta, I can't. They're doing something important right now." His eyes stayed glued to you, watching as your eyes didn't once leave your patient. You were so focused on fixing them, on helping them not be in pain, it was admirable.

You tilted your head, fixing a screw and stood up, stretching. "I'll be back." You said to your patient, who was already more than halfway completed. "You're a trooper."

The barely conscious omnic seemed to smile at you, giving you a limp high five and saying a soft "thank you."

You nodded and turned around, almost bumping into a large... omnic?!

You apologized and took a step back to find Ramattra standing in front of you. He was taller than any other omnic you have ever seen and a hell of a lot scarier too. But he also looked so... cool. Definitely unlike any other omnic you've met.

"y/n!" Zenyatta stepped out from behind Ramattra as you took off a face mask you had on. "You're doing excellent work in here!"

You smiled and gave Zenyatta a short hug. "Thank you, master. It's been a long day, but we're almost done."

"I'd like you to meet someone." Zenyatta pushed Ramattra in front of him, revealing to you the tall omnic. He had to be way over 6ft, he was gigantic.

"Hi!" You smiled, sticking your hand out to him.

"Hello there." Ramattra just stared at your hand and you let it limply fall to your side. You gave Zenyatta a confused look.

"This is Ramattra," Zenyatta introduced him because he knew that Ramattra wouldn't do it himself. "Ramattra, this is y/n."

"Does he need repair? Because he looks just fine to me. I mean I could check a couple of his bolts and wires, but like I said, he looks in tip top condition." You took a fry from the table in the corner of the room and popped it in your mouth.

"I need no repair, human." Ramattra's tone was rough, but it didn't scare you. It was just alarming to hear someone speak to you like that.

"Alright then... What can I help you with?"

Zenyatta just laughed and shook his head. "y/n, Ramattra here is like a brother to me. We've taught each other a lot, but got separated due to differences. I just wanted to show him the work you conduct in here, perhaps show him another side."

"Nothing will change my mind about humans." Ramattra turned around and crossed his arms, looking around the small workshop.

"That's not what I said, brother. I just wanted to show you something new, that's all."

Ramattra just ignored Zenyatta, walking over to an omnic who had to get all of his limbs replaced and was clearly exhausted, but still awake.

"Why are you here, brother?" Ramattra grabbed the omnic's hand, looking at his tired figure. "Why not get repaired by one of our own kind?"

The omnic just looked at Ramattra and stretched, his eyes getting brighter. "y/n is great. They make sure we're cared for and in our greatest condition."

"Yes, but they are human."

"I've met a lot of good humans in my day. And they are definitely one of them. If not for them, I wouldn't be here, talking to you."

"I see... Well, I will let you rest now. Godspeed, brother." Ramattra left the omnic to rest and saw that you went right back to work on your patient from when he walked in.

He walked over to you and sat down, watching you as you worked, not once thinking about anything else but saving this omnic.

"How long have you been doing this job?" You jumped slightly, shocked to hear Ramattra's booming voice.

You giggled, a little embarrassed about getting frightened. "I've always been interested in repairing, but it wasn't until I met Zenyatta that I realized that I can use those abilities on omnics too. Plus, I know that you all have been through a lot and I just want to start the movement to help. It's not much, but it's what I can do."

If Ramattra had a heart, it would be pounding. Perhaps he felt the simulation of it or at least his brain was telling him that his heart would be pounding. Whatever it was... he didn't like it. "W-Well, human's have been the reason for our destroyed life. The reason we are so hurt and suffer this much. It is because of you that you are fixing us. You're not helping with anything."

You didn't know how to respond. You had never been through what he has, nor do you even know how he would feel. So you just kept working on your patient. "I'm sorry." You ended up saying. "I know a simple apology isn't enough, but I am really trying to do better as a human. Omnics deserve much more than they are currently given and how they are treated, so, I'm sorry Ramattra." You looked up at him, making eye contact. "Truly."

For the first time, Ramattra couldn't say a single word. He had no rebuttal, nothing rude to say, no singular comment, nothing. He had nothing to say to you.

So instead of words, he opted for a head nod and continued watching you work. You were so precise, so caring, making sure not to hit any vital wires that would hurt the omnic in front of you. You knew what you were doing, and you were clearly skilled.

Shortly after, you took off your mask and smiled at your patient. After a couple of hours, this poor omnic that was torn apart by the citizens of Junkertown was finally as patched up as you could get them. Definitely able to live a mostly normal life and that was all you wanted for them.

The omnics eyes lit up. They couldn't walk or move too much due to their current condition, but they could definitely feel the difference. If they could smile, they would, but you could certainly tell how happy they were. "Th-Thank you." Their voice was weak, but sounded way happier than before. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Of course," you smiled, grabbing their hand. "I'm just glad you're all better now. Like I said earlier, you're a trooper. Now get some rest, alright?"

They nodded lightly and pulled their blanket up their body, drifting off into sleep.

Ramattra was amazed. You were so... gentle with the omnics. You really did seem to love your job.

You slipped off your mask and your apron, receiving a high five and a "good job" from Genji.

"Thanks Genji. Another day done." You stretched, a couple of bones in your body popping.

"So," Ramattra scoffed, still trying to keep his intimidating front. "How much do you get paid for this?"

"I don't," you admitted, hanging up your apron and slipping on some slippers, yawning. "Why would they have to pay to continue living? That's just not fair."

God, Ramattra hated the way you were making him feel. Humans weren't supposed to be this... nice. They were evil. All of them. Right?

"Oh shoot!" You ran up to Ramattra, gently brushing your fingers over his arm. "There's a crack."

"It's nothing." Ramattra quickly pulled away from you.

"I saw a missing screw in there, it's not nothing. Can I please look at it?" You reached out your hand to him again and he pulled away again, walking away from you.

"No. I won't let a human touch me! I-"

Ramattra was interrupted by Zenyatta putting his hand on Ramattra's shoulder. "Just let them try. I promise they won't hurt you."

Ramattra sighed, but sat down anyway. He wasn't super stoked about having to be fixed by a human, but that crack and missing screw have been messing with his ability to use his arm properly. "Fine. But if you try anything, human, know that there will be prices to pay."

You could tell that Ramattra was stiff. You realized something though, perhaps this motion he made around humans wasn't because he was trying to defend himself or wanting you to fear him... it was because he was... scared. At least it seemed that way to you. He has only seen humans as something to harm him and the people he loves. Maybe being able to see a human as an ally was frightening to him.

"You don't have to be so tense," you giggled, pulling out a bag of assorted tools. "Loosen up a bit and this might be easier for both of us."

"It's a little difficult to do that... I don't want to drop my guard."

You hummed in response, picking out the tools you needed. "I understand... It must be weird to see humans as a nice thing, huh?"

Ramattra went silent for a moment, looking at a dim light bulb above him as you went to work. "I suppose. Your race has done nothing but hurt mine."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," your tone was gentle as you concentrated on your work.

"Me too." For the first time, Ramattra's tone dropped. He wasn't trying to intimidate you anymore. It sounded almost... friendly.

"I'm going to bed, y/n." Genji took a step away from his desk that was cooped up in the corner of the workshop and stretched. "Great job today."

"Thank you Genji," you smiled. "Get a good night's rest, alright? It's already pretty late."

"I will. Don't work yourself to the bone, got it?"

"I won't. I'll be heading to bed myself after I fix up our new friend here." You chuckled as Genji went off to his room.

"After I fix up our new friend here."

Was Ramattra really stooping so low to find a human... friend? No. There was no way.

"All done!" You put any tools away and looked over Ramattra's metal body to see if there was anything else you needed to do.

Ramattra moved his arm and was shocked. It was the best his arm has felt in years.

"Thank you." Ramattra bowed at you. "I... appreciate your efforts."

"Anytime," you cleaned up and smiled at Ramattra, your hands moving to your hips. "Just be sure to come back again if there's anything wrong, alright?"

Ramattra just nodded and followed Zenyatta to the door of the workshop.

"Oh, y/n?"

You were headed up to your room to finally get some rest after such a long day, but were stopped by Ramattra's voice.

"Yes?" You stuck your head out from the top of the stairs.

"Promise to get a good night's rest?"

You thought for a moment as a smirk painted your face. "Yes. Promise to be back?"

Ramattra thought for a moment. "...Yes."

---

Ramattra did, in fact, come back. A lot actually. More than you expected him to, at least.

At first, it was for small upgrades he was thinking about related to his body and his weapon. And then it was to just see what you were working on and to visit other omnics. And finally, it was just to see you.

It was odd building a relationship with someone who hated your kind. Someone who was afraid that you would turn your back on him at any second. But you noticed every day that he would warm up to you more and more. Even if it was just little things like scooting a little closer to you or telling you about his day.

There started to be days where you would rarely not see his face.

---

"Good morning, y/n." You heard that familiar bell of your workshop door opening and Ramattra ducking his head to get through.

"Good morning, Ramattra." You smiled, continuing to sweep the floor.

"Any big plans for the day?"

"Nope! Today's my day off so I'm going to try to organize this hellhole."

Ramattra chuckled at the sight of your messy workshop. It wasn't unsanitary by any means, just cluttered.

"Sounds good." Ramattra nodded, sitting on a nearby stool, looking giant in it.

"Do you need any upgrades or anything fixed, Ramattra?"

"No, not that I can think of."

"Then do you have any big plans for the day?"

"No. I trained with Zenyatta this morning, but that's the only plan I made for today."

The two of you did what you needed to do in silence. You cleaned up all the clutter, trying to organize it to your best ability, and Ramattra would be on standby if you needed him to reach anything.

"Can I be honest with you, y/n?" If Ramattra could blush, he knew he absolutely would've been.

"Sure, Ramattra. Go ahead." You finally got a chance to take a breather, so you sat across from him.

He cleared his throat and kept his composure. He couldn't lose that stoic posture, couldn't let his guard down. "You are the most tolerable human I have ever met."

You laughed out loud. "Thank you?"

"I mean it. You're kind, caring, and helpful. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm actually starting to like you." He laughed, not believing he was actually saying any of this to you.

"That's actually very sweet, Ramattra. I've liked you from the beginning, so nothing has really changed over in my department." You smiled, laying your hand on the table.

"y/n? I just wanted to let you know, I hate the way you make me feel."

"Really?" You laughed. "Why's that?"

"I don't particularly enjoy conversing with humans, let alone take pleasure in being around them."

"Is it scary?" You asked, tilting your head a bit.

"To be honest with you, it's terrifying. I feel like I'm losing that hard edge. Growing softer. I'm not keen on that." He chuckled almost nervously and you slid your hand over to his.

"Well, I like guys with a soft side." You smiled and immediately made whatever heart Ramattra did have melt. How dare you!

"Don't you dare." Ramattra chuckled, giving you a playful smack on the hand.

"I'm glad I met you, Ramattra."

"I feel the same... I'm thankful that there are humans out in the world like you. It's almost making me..."

"Hopeful?"

"Precisely."

Ramattra walked up to you and placed his forehead on yours. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and he hugged you.

Yeah. You were making him feel hopeful.

~~~~~

overwatch masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

TAG LIST:

(these were all people i saw that were interested in this specific writing and ramattra x reader in general <3) @deepparadisesheep @tarotbonez @xoneaboveallx @snufkuluf @jinne-lee @igzsatelier

<333

#i really hope you guys love this as much as i do #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #<3 #<33333 #obsessed with this one frrr #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 x reader #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra overwatch #overwatch ramattra

[sparklingchan]

The way I love you || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Lee Know

Word count : 4k+

Warnings : Sexual implications, making out, prostitution, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, cuss words.

Genre : Romance, angst, royal AU, suggestive.

Description: He was a prince, bound by his duty. She was a harlot, longing for someone to love her truly. In stolen moments beneath the moonlit city, they dared to dream of a love meant to be.

A/N : HELLO MY TUMBLR FAM! I'm back again with the Royal fics haha. And this time it's my boi Lino<3 I hope y’all like this! It's one of my favorites!

And as I promised, I'll make a masterlist for all the Royal fics. Here is the link. Do check out the other fics in this series(the stories are not interrelated)!

Minho hates coming to the main market; he hates the sticky workers bumping into him, he hates the smell of burnt meat, he hates the sound of noisy instruments people play in the name of music.

The only things he does like about the market is the wine, and you.

"Here for y/n again, my Prince?" One of the courtesans-Taylor- asks him just as he enters the tavern. She wears the brightest of lipsticks and smells like jasmine.

"I'm here for the wine." He says, which is only half a lie.

"As you say, my prince," Taylor giggles, "Your y/n is on the third floor as always. She hasn't had any customers today."

He walks the flight of stairs without breaking sweat and knocks on your door, excitement bubbling inside him.

The door opens and he catches a whiff of your rose scented perfume.

"Well, hello there," you smile at him, "Long time, huh?"

He chuckles, "It's only been three days, y/n."

You pull him inside by his collar, shut the door behind him and immediately draw your mouth to his.

You'd missed him, clearly.

In your dark lit bedroom, many men entered everyday for the purpose of their pleasure. But Minho was the only who entered this room everyday only to please you.

"Excited, aren't we?" He asks you when you push him onto the bed and climb over him, "I missed you, y/n."

You kiss him again; this time with more force, more passion and a lot more tongue. He reciprocates your action with equal enthusiasm.

As the night grows colder and darker, you find yourself cuddling with the man under your quilt. The love bites on both of your bodies barely visible under the light of a single candle.

"I wonder what magic keeps me coming back for more everyday. " Minho says softly, his fingers playing with your hair.

"Oh, does the 'Perfect Prince' not want to be seen in a whore's bed? Does it embarrass him?" You ask, playfully.

His mouth twists into a smirk, "Never. Not even in a thousand years."

He kisses you again and again and again until the last candle dies out and the quilt finds its place in some corner of the floor.

*

"Taylor, it's too early to be bothering me with customers!" You yell first thing in the morning, still sleepy and still cold from the absence of Minho's body against you.

"Y/n, it's not a customer. I need to talk to you." She yells back, "Open the door."

Groaning, you push yourself towards the door.

"What is it?"

Her face lacks the usual cheerfulness. She looks grim. Sad, almost.

"Minho didn't wanna wake you up," she pulls an envelope from her pocket, "He asked me to give you this."

"Okay. I'll read it later." You mutter. It's not unusual for Minho to deliver love letters for you sometimes. What's so special about this one?

"Y/n, read it." Taylor says, "Now."

There's an underlying urgency in her words that she tries to mask but doesn't escape your notice.

You walk back to your bed and open the letter.

Hi, y/n.

This is probably the last time that I'm writing to you. I feel sick even just at the thought of being without you but I have to do my princely duties now.

I'm getting married to Princess Sophie soon. My father commands it.

Y/n, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me someday. I really meant it when I said I loved you.

Minho.

Inside the half empty envelope are a few coins of gold.

He paid you. For sleeping with him. For the first time ever.

It's as if the air is forced out of your lungs. You find it hard to breathe, hard to keep your eyes open, hard to even comprehend Taylor's questions.

You're not even in that room anymore.

You are by the river at midnight, with Minho. He'd set up a fire and covered the both of you with a quilt while he sung a soft melody.

You are in the rain, shouting profanities at each other. That was the day when he first told you he loved you.

You are at the tavern's terrace, kissing him for the first time.

You are at the Royal Palace. That's the day he first sees you, bold and loud, not afraid to say 'no' to sleeping with his monstrous father.

You are at the main market, buying a new pair of earrings when an injured Prince shows up at the shop. That's when you first see him.

You only had one regret at present.

You never got to tell him how much you loved him.

*

"Y/n, I know you're grieving but you cannot refuse customers anymore. You know this is what brings food to your table!" Taylor wraps a shawl around your half naked frame, "You always knew Minho could not just leave the palace and come live with you in this brothel, didn't you?"

You'd had another episode today; screaming and punching a customer while he tried to take your clothes off.

That's three days in a row.

If Taylor hadn't been there, the boss would have killed you with his own bare hands.

"I know," you say, "But I just...can't. I cannot bring myself to accept the fact that he burnt down the past year to the worth of a few coins. I have no lust for gold. I have no desire for a family, especially when my own father sold me here. I only loved him and now, he's fucking gone."

Taylor rubs your shoulders gently.

"Y/n, I know. But you have to get yourself together or you will only hurt yourself." She replies, "For all I know, he could be already married now. Sticking his fucking tongue in Sophie's mouth."

You look up at her.

"What do you mean? His wedding is today?" You ask.

She nods, "The city has been decorated like never before."

You force yourself out of her embrace and rush towards your cupboard.

"What are you doing, y/n?" Taylor asks.

"Going to crash a royal wedding."

*

Minho has developed a habit of looking for your eyes everywhere he goes. It's not a good one, but he can't seem to get rid of this habit.

And on his wedding day, as he stands at the alter, holding his fiancé's hand while the priest talks about loving, cherishing and honoring Princess Sophie for life, he cannot stop himself from looking for you in the sea of people.

Rich and powerful people from all over the world are present in the hall but somewhere in between these people, he sees a glimpse of someone he knows. Too well, in fact.

"Y/n?" He whispers to himself, heart pounding against his chest.

"Minho, are you alright? Your hands are getting sweaty." Sophie whispers but he just shrugs, his eyes glued to you.

As were yours, to his.

You didn't think he'd notice you amongst the velvet clad aristocrats but he did. And you wish he hadn't.

The bride and groom exchange wine glasses and have a sip from it.

"If anyone has any objections to this holy matrimony, speak now. Or hold your peace forever." The priest announces and the room goes quiet.

Of course no one would object to this wedding.

No one except you.

Minho sees a single hand raised among the crowd.

"Yes, miss?" The priest says.

"How could the prince marry another woman when his child grows inside me? What about the seed that he left behind? If I choose to give birth to this child, will it be your successor, my prince?"

Minho feels the blood drain from his face.

"You! How dare you?" Minho screams at you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. He would never speak to you in this way, but he has to. To protect you from this mess you'd created, he must be harsh.

He is the prince and he will be safe but you, they wouldn't spare you.

"How dare you?" You yell back, eyes bloodshot, "Do you think a few coins could make up for what you did to me?"

"Quiet! You whore! Dare you to disrupt a royal wedding with false accusations?" The king-Minho's father finally speaks. "Guards! Take her to the guillotine and bedhead her!"

"Father, no! I will deal with this in my own way." Minho says, almost losing his calm. "Guards, take the woman to the dungeons."

Your tears roll down your cheeks and you quickly rub them off with your hand as the guards take you down to the dungeons. You're sure he's gonna get you killed.

You take one last glance at the man you love and smile at him.

So long, Minho.

*

The wedding is called off and Princess Sophie storms out of the wedding hall along with her father. Of course, Minho's father was furious.

"I will kill her. I will kill her with my bare hands!" The king slams his fist against the table, "She ruined everything! Everything!"

"Father, please calm down." Hyunjin-Minho's younger brother says. "We have to think of a way to make up with Princess Sophie and her family."

"He's right. Being angry won't solve our problem." Minho says, twirling the wine in his glass, a playful smile on his face.

The king glares at his eldest son, walks toward him and smashes the glass from his hands.

"How dare you sit in my room, relaxed as ever, while you've fucked up so bad?" He yells, " You slept with a common whore, impregnated her and I have to suffer for it?"

Minho wants to defend himself but he knows it's of no use when the king raises his fist in the air and punches right at Minho's nose.

Minho smells the blood before he sees it.

Hyunjin tries to stop the king and mouths at Minho, leave now.

Minho does as he is told.

That night, as he cleans the blood from his face, he finally let's himself relax a little.

Today was a blunder, a total disaster but at least he didn't have to marry some other woman. He couldn't imagine life with a woman he didn't love. He considered himself a coward for not fighting for you enough, which is why you were in prison. Nevertheless, he swears to himself that he will save you from this mess. It didn't matter what he had to do, he would make sure you're out of prison by tomorrow.

"You're a reckless idiot, y/n." He mutters to himself, "But you're my reckless idiot."

*

You've never seen Taylor look this sad before. Her eyes are bloodshot and the tip of her nose shines red.

"I told you," she says to you, handing you some food, "I told you not to do this. Now look what they've done! Minho has you locked up and you can be sentenced to death any minute!"

"Well, it was worth a shot, really." You say to her.

Taylor snickers at your words, "Also, are you really pregnant or did you make it up to get his attention?"

You chuckle, "Of course I'm not pregnant. I just thought it would add a bit spice to the drama."

"Fine. Whatever. Just do not die on me, y/n. I swear. You're my.." Taylor sucks in a deep breath, "You're my only family. Please."

You blink your tears away before Taylor even notices. You take a spoonful of the porridge she made and stuff it in your mouth so you'd forget about her words. You're too weak for this right now.

"Y/n, just promise me-" Taylor is interrupted by the prison guard.

"Prince Minho is here to see you."

Even the porridge in your mouth does not stop your heart from aching and your eyes from tearing up.

Why is he here?

"Your majesty." Taylor greets him with the basic courtesy. You, on the other hand are looking at everything but him.

"Taylor, may I have a word with y/n alone? My guards here will take you up to my room. I have something important to discuss with you as well."

Taylor nods with a word and follows his guard.

Now it's just you and him. In a jail cell. While your heart breaks knowing he will serve you with capital punishment.

Is it the heavens punishing a common whore like yourself for loving the prince?

Perhaps.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Minho says in a soft whisper. His voice is filled with concern but you cannot look at him. Absolutely not.

If you even as much glance at those eyes you'd fallen in love with, you know you might lose all your will power.

"Fine." You reply sternly, "What do you want?"

Minho sucks in a deep breath, "I wish I had more time to explain but it'll all make sense some day, okay? For now, just trust me."

He offers you a vile of clear liquid.

"It's not anything bad, I swear. Just trust me, please. " He puts it on your palm.

His touch sends shivers down your spine.

And just like that, he turns around and walks away.

You stare at the vile in your hands and for a split second, you wonder if he'd handed you some type of poison. You wish he did.

And when you open the vile and gulp down that bitter liquid, you pray to the gods that you never wake up again because that's when your body hits the ground.

*

Hyunjin is anxious from the moment he wakes up in the morning.

He's anxious while he has breakfast, he's anxious while he avoids the eyes of palace officials to sneak into the old quarters of his mother.

He's especially anxious when he sees you lying on the bed, lips pale and stiff.

"I hope this works for God's sake." He pulls out a vile of purple liquid from his pocket and carefully, pours it into your mouth.

He curses Minho for handing him with the scariest possible task ever.

And as he paces the room, waiting for the antidote to work, he prays to every God, every spirit, every deity he's ever heard of.

Within a few minutes, much to his relief, your eyes open.

You look at Hyunjin alarmingly.

"You..You're his brother." You say, almost as if accusing him of a crime, "Aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Hyunjin." He seats at the foot of the bed, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. But my head hurts real bad." You reply, "Where's Minho? That bastard gave me a bitter drink and disappeared!"

Hyunjin notices your hopeful gaze go from the ceiling of the room to his face and then to his outfit. The mourning outfit.

"Why are you in mourning? And why are you wearing that badge with a dove on it?" Your voice is alarmed and you immediately sit up.

You remember Minho had once told you that the dove badge worn by the Royal family implies a death of a member of the Royal bloodline.

"Is Minho okay?" Your words are almost a whisper.

"Well, y/n, it's a little complicated, I will be honest but if you come with me now and trust me on this-"

"Why the fuck does every keep on asking me to trust them? What is going on? Either let me die in peace or let me leave this palace! I cannot take this anymore. And, for the love of God, would you tell me if Minho is okay or not?"

"He's alive." Hyunjin sighs, " Everyone thinks he committed suicide last night. The city is mourning the death of their crown prince. "

You're confused, "But he's alive, right?"

Hyunjin manages a smile, "Yes, he's alive. He staged his death and is waiting for you by the river bank. "

You jump out of the bed at once, heart pounding against your chest.

"Take me to him, please."

*

The river bank is the most beautiful place in the city, filled with shops and tourists and traders and singers and life. It's beautiful. Unlike your room in the brothel, which was as lifeless as anything could get.

The only one who made that room lively was Minho.

Minho who taught you to play cards, Minho who once beat up a customer because he was harassing you, Minho who promised he'd give anything to get you out of that hell hole.

Minho who loved you.

Now, Minho stands by a boat, wearing a straw hat and gripping his sword tightly. Taylor stands beside him, a brown package in her hands.

And when Minho's eyes meet yours, you run to him as if he'd run away if you didn't, disappear into thin air, leaving you alone in that cold dark room once again.

And oh! Minho is so warm as he wraps you in his embrace. He's warm like the sun on the coldest winter morning, warm like a cup of tea, warm like a freshly baked cookie. He's warm and he's yours.

"What..what is going on?" You sob into his embrace, "Please, will you stay with me? Minho, please?"

Minho is crying too, which is surprising because you've never seen him cry. Upset maybe , but crying never.

Yet here he is crying like a newborn baby, crying because a part of him knows he's managed to save you somehow.

"I'm not leaving okay?" He says, still crying, caressing your cheeks, "We're gonna go far from this city. We're never coming back okay?"

You can only nod as Taylor gently pats your head.

"This is a farewell gift. From me." She smiles at you, handing you the package, "It's a wedding dress that I made. I hope you can wear it when the day comes."

And you're crying again. But this time, you're crying into Taylor's embrace. It's hard leaving behind someone who loved you like a sister.

"We'll write to you. We promise. As soon as we find a proper place to stay, we will write to you both. " Minho says, to Taylor and to his brother.

"Sorry for burdening you with this country. " Minho whispers when Hyunjin hugs him, "I hope you forgive me someday."

"Bullshit. Really, I've always wanted to kill you and get this crown for myself. You only made my job easier." Hyunjin jokes, patting Minho's back.

Minho chuckles. The boatman catches his eye and points to the sun.

"We should get going now, y/n. They'll be holding a prayer in the afternoon and we cannot risk anyone seeing us before we leave."

You nod, kissing Taylor's head softly, holding her gift close to your chest.

"Do visit us sometime." You say to both of them and they nod in unison.

Minho helps you on the boat and hands a few coins to the boatman.

The soft current of the river pushes your boat farther away from the shore, Taylor and Hyunjin wave goodbye to you. You feel horrible leaving behind the city of your birth. You feel empty and cold.

But Minho wraps his arms around you and the coldness vanishes. Minho is warm, and from now on, he's only yours.

*

4 years later.

"Your baby is fucking killing me, Minho." You groan as you get up from the sofa in your bakery.

You'd been sitting and munching on cookies for way too long perhaps.

"Hey, don't curse in front of the baby." He hushes you, caressing your bump. You feel the baby kick again.

You both laugh.

"Come on." He takes you by the hand and drags you to the sofa once again, ignoring all your protests.

Ever since you'd entered the seventh month of your pregnancy, Minho refused to let you do any work. And by any, you meant any work that involved physical activity.

In the mornings, he forced you to watch him sweep the floors whilst you made him breakfast. In the afternoons, he forced you to sit at the cash counter of your bakery and watch him bake stuff tirelessly while you interacted with the customers.

In the evening, he gives you snacks while he cleans up the bakery for tomorrow.

In the night, he holds you close while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

It was a routine but you'd come to love this routine.

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

"What are you thinking?" He pulls you closer and plants a kiss on your lips.

"Just something. " You reply, embarrassed.

"Tell me, love. What is it?"

And how could you ever say 'no' to him if he used that tone on you?

"Well, I was thinking," you mindlessly fiddle with his fingers, "Do you ever regret giving up the throne for me? I mean, you're royalty. And here you are washing dishes and baking cookies every day. You could have lived a lavish life, you know."

You sound sad, guilty even.

Minho chuckles at you. But doesn't say anything.

Instead, he pulls your face closer and kisses you. Passionately. Softly. Lovingly.

When he pulls away, you feel breathless.

"Does that answer your question?" His sincere eyes look into yours, his hands on your belly, "I wouldn't trade this for the world."

You pull him back in for a kiss because that's all you'd ever wanted to hear.

And because Minho is warm and he smells like cookies and he's yours.

#skz scenarios #skz x reader #kpop au #kpop imagines #skz #skz minho #skz lee know #skz lino #skz fluff #skz smut #skz scenario #stray kids imagines #stray kids fics #stray kids lee know #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz hyunjin fluff #skz au #skz royal au #kpop ff #kpop skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca, my love. A huge congratulations on your follower celebration. You deserve every single one and a thousand more 🥳❤️

So... I wanna push you out of your comfort zone a little and request a little drabble made from a gif and I'm gonna choose our dear Rumlow 😉

But also... can I pair it with a kiss prompt? "If you win, I'll kiss you"

No pressure at all, since you haven't written for Rumlow before, but I hope this could inspire you 😁❤️

My lovely Lily,

Thank you for being such a good friend to me, you’re always so supportive and encouraging. And thank you for following me and being a part of my celebration. It means so much to me that you read my fics and our daily chats are some of the best parts of my day.

And thank you for this ask, I’m REALLY nervous about writing for Rumlow so I hope you like what I did here. Oh and it’s a little more than a drabble 🤣

Never Again

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of domestic abuse, injuries as a result of said abuse, lessons in boxing and Krav Maga, little violent.

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: You’re relatively new in town and you start working out at a nearby gym where you notice someone there that could help you with a problem from your past.

A/N: So yes this is my first time writing for Rumlow, I’m terrified but I had fun writing for someone new. And it’s a little longer than I intended but such is life! I hope you like it. And this has a very J Lo in Enough feel to it.

*********

You passed that building every day on your way to the gym. It was intimidating to look at even from across the water, wondering what was inside, wondering if anyone was looking down at you as you drove by the large complicated building with more windows than you could count but it was the building that he headed for every day after his workout.

Well, he did on the days that you and he finished your workouts at the same time.

Sometimes you would sneak into the part of the gym that had the boxing ring and watch him while you jumped rope, not well, but it was passable. He was amazing to watch, dominating his sparring partners with what looked like a combination of fighting styles.

Boxing, Krav Maga, Karate, and probably a few more but you didn’t know the difference. You had no idea how to fight, but you wanted to learn.

It might be helpful the next time your ex finds you because you knew there would be a next time.

The daily routine of trying to cover your bruises with makeup was exhausting and you didn’t want to do it anymore, you didn’t want to be scared anymore so you decided you were going to approach him.

He had a daunting look to him, wild brown hair, amber colored eyes, days old stubble, and his face always looked like he was filled with a dark rage but you had caught him smiling a couple of times when he wasn’t busy being cranky. So he did know how to smile but it was painfully obvious he didn’t do it very often.

After an aggressive run on the treadmill, you turned to step off and crashed right into him. He looked annoyed at first but when he looked into your eyes, his expression softened. You immediately apologized.

“Shit, I am so so sorry. Are you ok?” You asked, wiping the sweat off of your face.

Anger returned to his face when he looked at yours.

When you had wiped the sweat off of your face, you had taken some of your makeup with it, uncovering the greenish-yellow bruise around your eye that you had forgotten was there.

“Who did that to you?” He asked with a gruff tone to his voice.

Not remembering you had a bruise around your eye, you replied to his question. “Did what?”

He moved in closer and feeling his breath against your eyelashes, he gently turned your face toward the mirrors along the wall.

“That! Who did THAT to you?” He repeated again.

Quickly turning away from the mirrors and breaking away from his touch, you lied to him.

“Oh I’m just really clumsy, I walked into the corner of the door.” You said.

He seemed annoyed with your answer. “Right, if you say so, Miss. Have a good day.” And with that, he turned to leave.

But you didn’t want him to. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“WAIT!” You called out.

He stopped, turned and waited for you to catch up to him.

“Teach me…please.” You begged. “I’ve tried restraining orders, the police, they won’t help me. I feel like you might be the only one who can…I’ve seen you fight.”

He dropped his bag from his shoulder, placed his hands on his hips, and glanced at the ground before returning his gaze to you. The heat coming from his body hit your exposed skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his arms to rest at his sides. Bending at the waist, he picked up his gym bag and started to walk away.

Your stomach dropped as you watched him walk away before he turned to look at you once again.

“Be here tomorrow…noon. I’m Brock…Rumlow. Be ready to work. If you are thirty seconds late, I’m walking.” He said.

“Of course, yes I will be here Mr. Rumlow.” You said in a shaky tone. “I’m y/n.”

Brock cracked a slight smile. “Just Brock, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow. And do me a favor…”

He closed the distance between your bodies so he could whisper in your ear.

“Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.” He growled and he walked away without turning back.

You had a feeling you were in for a long afternoon tomorrow.

**********

The clock said 11:45.

You made sure you weren’t just on time, you were early, changed and ready to work. You saw Brock walk in and head straight for the locker room, he was dressed in what looked like tactical clothing, all black from head to toe and black boots. He noticed you waiting for him and he held up one finger as if to tell you “one minute” or “be right out.”

You had done as he requested and left all of your visible bruises uncovered. The one around your eye was going away but you could still see the greenish-yellow mark on your face and also the hand and fingerprints on your arms and neck.

Feeling self-conscious, you tried to position yourself in a way where they weren’t so visible but it didn’t do any good. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though they weren’t. They didn’t look as bad as they did before and they were also taking a long time to fade.

He emerged from the locker room dressed in black shorts, sneakers, and a white muscle shirt, plus his signature sour look to his face. But you had to admit, that look was rather sexy.

You watched carefully as Brock taped up your hands and then taped up his own. You were a fast learner so you should be able to tape up your own hands tomorrow, if you lasted through your first workout.

“Ya ever done any self-defense or boxing before, sweetheart?” He asked.

You shook your head before answering him. “No, never.”

“Ok…well, hope you’re ready to work.” He said.

“I am.” You replied.

And he did work you, he worked you harder than you’ve probably worked out ever before. He started with the basics…how to stand, loose knees, elbows tucked in, and the basic punches.

Brock showed you the jab, the cross, and the hook. Then taught you some of the basic combination punches: 1-2 (jab-right cross), 1-1-2 (jab-jab-cross), and the 1-2-hook-2.

Your time together went by quickly. And more than once you had caught Brock looking at the blue and purple marks on your upper arms as you threw punch after punch, encouraging you and praising you for when he thought you did a good job.

During one of your water breaks, he asked you, “When did you leave him?”

He caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting him to converse except when he was giving you lessons but it was nice to talk to someone that wasn’t yelling at you. Brock was surprisingly gentle.

He would always ask and make sure it was alright before he put his hands on you to show you something and his voice was stern but he never yelled at you which was comforting.

“Oh, awhile ago but he always manages to find me wherever I go, hence these bruises.” You pointed to the bruise around your eye.

“And he doesn’t know where you are now?” He asked.

“No, not yet but he has connections and money so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he does. This time I thought I’d try a bigger city, maybe he wouldn’t look for me here in D.C. but I’m just tired of running and being afraid, Brock.”

The man of few words had even less to say than he did before. He was silent, the look in his eyes was sad but not sorry. He didn’t seem the type to feel sorry for people but it was almost like he was proud of you for escaping, for leaving when a lot of people would just stay and take it.

You didn’t want to be one of them.

“Why does he keep chasing you then? What does he want?” He asked.

“I took something. Something that meant more to him than I ever did.” You said.

Brock looked like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to hear what you were going to say, before you cracked a sly smile and said,

“I took the cat.” Followed by a light giggle.

A smile stretched across his lips bigger than you had ever seen him smile before and he started shaking his head.

“The cat? You took the fuckin’ cat?” He asked in a surprised tone.

“Hey, Peanut is MY cat, not his!” You said, sass dripping from your voice.

Taking a sip of water, he inched closer to you while you were seated at the edge of the boxing ring and he was standing. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on his knees so his eyes were level with yours.

You swallowed hard and heat rose to your cheeks as he continued to stare at you before he said in a low voice.

“I just don’t wanna see you get hurt anymore and especially not because of a cat, sweetheart.” He said.

His words didn’t faze you on the outside but on the inside you felt hot, and butterflies appeared from the depths of your stomach but you kept yourself calm and collected before responding to him.

“Well that’s why I have you, right? To teach me, I mean.” You said softly and trying to make it sound like you DIDN’T find him attractive, but you were pretty sure you were failing miserably.

He broke the awkward silence between you.

“Ya ready to do it again tomorrow?” He asked. “I gotta get to work.”

“Oh yes, absolutely but I’d really like to pay you for your time…please?” You asked.

Brock pressed his lips together in a straight line and shook his head furiously. “No, no I don’t want your money, doll. I honestly think you’re a natural fighter and I wanna teach you everything I know so you can be prepared, alright?” His voice was rough and stern.

You nodded and nervously bit down on your lower lip before changing the subject.

“Was that your work uniform you walked in wearing earlier? Can you tell me what you do or if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?” You joked.

Brock smiled again. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow, same time.” He handed you a roll of tape. “Ya think you can tape up by yourself tomorrow?”

“I can do it.” You said, confidently.

He extended his index finger to point at you. “Ya know I’m gonna check it, right?”

“I know, I said I can do it, Brock.” You said with a slightly annoyed voice.

You hated being doubted.

“Ok, ok I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He said, throwing up his hands with a smug smile on his face.

**********

6 Months Later

“Come on, you can do better than that Princess!” He said condescendingly through gnashed teeth as you fought to free yourself from the tight grip he had you in, pinned against the wall. “Ya want his hands around ya pretty little neck like this again?! DO YOU?!!!” He yelled. “Come on, y/n!!

Six months ago, he never would have dared to grab you like that or yell in your face but you were much stronger now than you were then.

His hot breath hit against your face, and you managed to turn to the side, your elbow hit his forearm and his hand bent up at the wrist and you were able to quickly elbow him three times in the face.

In the six months Brock had been training you, you’ve managed to graduate from the basic boxing moves to Krav Maga where he really taught you how to protect yourself and how to inflict pain on your enemy.

You were making quick work of the sparring partners he had brought in for you to practice against. They were becoming less and less challenging and there was only one person you wanted to spar against to make you feel like if your ex attacked you, you would have the confidence to fight him off and that was Brock.

He had awakened something inside of you that you wouldn’t have known was there if it wasn’t for him. When he first started training you and said you were a natural fighter, you wanted to prove him right, that you could fight and you had the strength to not be pushed around anymore.

And the only way you were going feel good enough about your new fighting skills is if you could defeat him one on one.

“You’re gettin’ good, sweetheart…real good. Those guys are a little too easy for you, aren’t they. What do ya wanna do about it?” He asked.

“I wanna spar with you, Rumlow.” You said, breathing heavily.

Brock scratched his chin and playfully chuckled at you while shaking his head. “No, you ain’t ready for me yet, doll…you’re just not. You’re good but you’re not THAT good.” He said smugly.

You narrowed your eyes at him and suddenly became very agitated. The man was so sure that you couldn’t beat him, that he wasn’t even willing to give you a chance to prove him wrong.

Working out very close to Brock for the past six months caused you to develop some deeper feelings toward him too. Yes, you were friends but also you felt maybe he had an attraction to you like you had toward him.

There were subtle hints like you’d catch him staring at you while you were taping up your hands or getting a drink of water. Sometimes he’d wink at you when you performed well on a lesson he was teaching you. And he was smiling just a little bit more than you were used to seeing.

Anytime he put his hands on you during a lesson, he would always ask if it was ok or if he hurt you in any way to just tell him.

He never wanted to push too hard in case you weren’t ready for that yet. Sometimes after your lessons, you would take him out for a beer and he’d ask you questions about you ex.

“You can always tell me to fuck off if I’m askin’ too much, ya know. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to talk about. Please don’t feel like you have answer me if you don’t want to. I don’t even know him but I wanna kill him for hurting ya.” He had said.

You gave him a warm smile. “I don’t really know anyone else in this city except a couple of co-workers. I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it, Brock. No other friends so thank you for listening.” You had said.

You had a feeling that he wanted to kiss you but he didn’t. Did he stop himself because he thought of you as damaged? Did he think he was taking advantage of your teacher/student relationship?

Sometimes it was all you could think about after you went home for the day. You had dreams about his lips colliding with yours, teeth nipping at your chin and jawline, and his calloused hands exploring your body, touching you in a way that you’ve wanted him to from the first second you saw him.

But maybe he was a betting man.

“You don’t think I can win, do you.” You said.

He thought he could catch you off guard by trying to punch you in the face but you were fast and blocked him.

“I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya, Princess. You know he won’t either.” And he threw another punch at you with the other fist, which you also blocked.

“I wasn’t asking you to.” You said with a coy smile before elbowing him in the stomach. “How about a little wager?”

“What do ya have in mind, y/n?” He asked.

You pondered for a brief moment. “If I win, you have to tell me what you do for work that requires you to wear all that tactical clothing.”

“Ok. And if I win?” He asked.

You moved in close so the two of you were sharing the same air, you were both breathing heavily and as your breath hit the skin on his throat, goosebumps skirted across his skin and he gazed down at you with a primal look in his eyes.

Looking up at him through your long dark lashes, you answered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you, since you’re apparently too chicken to do it.”

Brock wasn’t afraid of anything so now he was determined to win. The devilish smile that stretched across his lips told you he definitely wasn’t going to hold back and he would do whatever he had to make sure he wins the bet.

He had taught you to be very aware of your surroundings, aware of things that could be problematic like tables and other furniture that could get in the way if you had to fight off your ex in your own home but right now you were surrounded by gym equipment, the boxing ring, and the walls.

“You got yourself a bet, sweetheart.” He said.

“Well ring the bell and let’s go, Rumlow.” You replied.

As soon as that bell rang, he came after you and throwing different combination punches and kicks at you. Since Brock was bigger than you, you thought it would be best to try and wear him down so he’d make a mistake. You would use his size and strength to your advantage, ducking and weaving as he threw punch after punch at you.

Throwing all of his weight behind those punches was making him tired as you danced around him, punching him in between the shoulder blades and kicking him behind the knees but he didn’t stay down.

The rage in his eyes that you were so used to seeing everyday had returned as he got his second wind. Keeping his punches close to his body this time, he tried to get you to bring your hands down by attacking your body but you pulled him close to knee him in the stomach. Using all of your strength to throw him to the mat, only to watch him roll and get right back up again.

He was fast, really fast, but you took notice of his fighting patterns so you could counter with combination moves of your own.

You had to get him to the mat, it was the only way you were going to beat him. Suddenly you felt a hand around your throat like he had done earlier but this time being in the corner of the ring.

There wasn’t as much leverage you could use against the ropes as you could against the wall to try and free yourself but he left himself open, his legs were too far apart so you were able to take a swipe at his front leg causing him to fall to the mat.

Kneeing him in the chin, he fell flat on his back and you saw your opportunity to wrap your legs around his neck, in the hopes that he would yield…which he did.

“Fuck, your legs are strong!” He exclaimed, breathing deeply and trying his best to catch his breath after you climbed off of him.

You were trying to catch your breath also as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “S-so I’ve b-been told.” You said panting and trying to smile at the same time.

Brock stood up carefully so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Maybe in that brief moment in between your legs, you cut off his air supply which made you chuckle a little.

You removed your sparring helmet and started to take the fingerless fighting gloves and tape off of your hands. He did the same before he spoke again.

“Well y/n…looks like you beat me, fair and square. I supposed I gotta tell you what I do for a living now, don’t I.” He said, looking defeated.

You threw the helmet and the tape onto the mat and slowly walked over to him, still trying to catch your breath. You stopped inches away from him, the heat radiating through his t-shirt as you rested your hand against his chest and the other touched his cheek.

“Maybe another time.” You said, pushing yourself up onto your toes and gently pressing your lips to his.

Feeling how tense his body was, you pulled away and apologized only to have him pull you flush to his chest and his lips mash against yours as if he was trying to flatten and destroy your mouth.

His stubble scratched your cheeks but his lips felt so good against yours, his tongue slipped into your mouth causing you to softly moan and gasp into his mouth.

Winding strands of your hair in his fingers, he gently bit down on your bottom lip and gripped your head firmly as if to keep you from escaping.

But you let your guard down and he knew it so he swept your feet out from under you causing you to fall backwards onto the mat.

“Hey! You yielded, Rumlow!” You yelled, looking up at him. A rare genuine smile stretched across his lips. “Careful, you pull shit like that and you’re gonna end up with your head between my legs again.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you in close and his voice sounded like a hiss from a dying fire as he whispered in your ear.

“The next time my head is between your legs, sweetheart, it will be because you want me there, trust me.” He said with a wicked smile.

His words, the gruff tone of his voice, the look he gave you…all sent delightful sparks down your spine and a guttural moan escaped your lips as he attacked your lips once again.

Caught in his firm embrace, his lips traced up and down the side of your neck before his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Brock was just about to pull it over your head when you both heard knocking on the boxing ring doors and voices.

“Time’s up, Rumlow!!!” They said.

You broke apart quickly and laughed a little with each other before he yelled to the people outside the doors.

“Alright!! Just gimme a second!” He bellowed.

It’s a good thing your face was already flushed from the workout so the people that walked into the room couldn’t tell that you were blushing. Biting down on your thumb, you waited for him to come back into the ring.

“I, uh, guess we’re done for the day.” You said with a warm smile.

He replied. “Let’s go, doll. I’ll take ya home.”

After many long kisses outside your apartment door, and even though you didn’t want to, you finally said goodbye to Brock. Your heavy make out session at the gym made you realize that before having him in between your legs again, maybe a date first would be a better decision.

Smiling from ear to ear as you closed the door, you placed your keys on the table and put down your gym bag.

And that’s when he made his presence known. There was a touch of acid in that cold, hard voice of his when he spoke.

“Hello sweetheart. You’re getting better and better at covering your tracks. I’m impressed. Miss me?”

He had found you…again. And by the tone of his voice, he sounded like he wasn’t letting you get away this time.

Others that may enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos

#brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow x female reader #frank grillo #ericca’s 400 follower celebration #love you lily #ericca answers

[juniemoe]

fandom: dragon age

rating: mature. minors dni.

pairing: carver hawke/oc

word count: 616

A/N: i haven't written anything in a hot minute so apologies in advance!! i'm currently deep in bg3 hell, but i still ended up writing about carver and august, somehow. august is my grey warden oc whom carver gets to know during da2 when he's recruited to the wardens in the deep roads. this fic is pretty tame, but minors interacting will still get blocked!

i've written more about them here: i, ii, iii

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

There's a swordsman's callus on August's thumb. It catches on the skin of Carver's shoulder blade, when his palm glides from his lower back to his freckled shoulder. Fingers dig into the muscle, nails leaving half moons to Carver's light brown skin.

Carver's breath catches and he pushes further in with his hips, making August sigh breathlessly under him. 

His eyes are closed when Carver searches them with his own. His mousy brown hair is tousled adorably from how he's been gripping and pulling it with his hands. His eyelashes are dripping from tears and there's a pink scar on his cheek from genlock's sharp blade and Carver presses a gentle kiss to it.

He's so beautiful, Carver thinks. The most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life. And maybe he is only 22 years old and a little stupid, but he likes to think that he has seen a lot of stuff by now.

August is a man who is still a boy, just like Carver himself, but fierce and loyal to his friends that he would take a sword to the heart for them a thousand times over. He's brave to a fault.

He is also the world's hugest pillock. Carver's very favourite one.

"Are you close?" Carver pants, and August nods without words.

Carver picks up pace, and it's not long before both of them have found satisfaction and they are lying on their backs on their joined bedrolls. There's a sweet sort of kiss that gets pressed on Carver's bicep, and Carver's heart clenches like a fist under his rib cage.

"You know, I never thought I would end up in bed with an Orlesian guy," Carver says almost conversationally after the sweat has cooled on their bodies and their heart rates have returned to normal. And then he immediately winces afterwards. Maker, he sometimes wishes that the time Bethany almost accidentally killed him with a rusty pitchfork back in Lothering would have worked. 

"And I never thought I would end up in bed with someone who has a cock the size of a horse, but here we are," he teases with a significant look to Carver's lower body, and Carver flushes deep and red.

August is doing the thing he does when he wants to be particularly annoying; adopting a thick exaggerated Orlesian accent that the nobles in Val Royeux use. It drives Carver up the wall, and he knows it.

"Maker, please stop, you bloody pillock," he whines. He's pretty sure August can tell how pleased he is by the comment, though, which makes it all the more embarrassing. Andraste's tits, Carver sometimes feels like it's August's lifework to tease him so mercilessly.

August laughs. It's a weirdly shrill sound that could belong to a teenage girl, and it makes Carver hide his grin on August's neck. He inhales August’s scent; he always smells so incredibly nice. Different from girls.

"It's true!" August says, delighted by Carver’s reaction. "And you definitely always get the Grey Wardens' incredible stamina part right."

Carver moans in agony while August's bony shoulders shake.

"Alright alright!" Carver says, but only slightly grumpy. August continues to giggle for a little while longer, before he quiets down.

Carver kind of wants to say something. I really like you (embarrassing). I could go for another round (even more embarrassing). I don't ever want to lose you (the most embarrassing thing he's thinking about right now).

In the end he says nothing, and August returns his silence in kind, though he presses a sweet sort of kiss to Carver’s furrowed brow.

Then they just sleep, and in the morning they will pretend to be nothing more than rivals turned friends again.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #carver hawke #da fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #carver hawke x oc #oc: august #vilna writes #i really appreciate reblogs dudes

[twoheartswrites]

Hii could you write a Markus x human reader please, could you write about how the reader helps the androids by giving them blue blood and parts their missing and Markus falls in love with him? Please and thank you 😊

Blue Blood Cargo

Fem aligned people (+ She/Her users) DNI

(FTM Friendly) Male reader x Markus

Fluff/Medium Fic

DBH

It's dark in this sewer hall, I'm sweating, and the only thing keeping me from stabbing myself with a misplaced pole is a shitty flashlight. But I know I'll be fine since I have Simon and North with me. It isn't long before I finally reach Jericho.

I place my hands on the rusty wheel, placing a good grip on it before turning it with all I've got. The door rewards me by opening with a loud creak, and I hear someone shout: "The new cargo is here!"

The deviants all turn to look at us as we enter in, and they all look so hopeful. The more I've been visiting and bringing in Cargo with a small group of other [human] people, the happier I've seen these androids become.

We place the boxes down, even going back to the hall to bring the leftovers. The boxes were filled with limbs and blue blood, some resources I got from a couple friends who work in the android industry.

"[Name], you're back"

I look over to the voice behind me I could never mistake, Markus's. Markus walks up to me with a proud look, pulling me in for a tight hug. He smells nice, and seemingly has been taking care of himself a little more. All I hoped was that he wouldn't notice my heart beating a little too quick.

"Of course I'm back, I'm your Blue Blood Angel" I joke, giving him a tight squeeze in the hug before pulling away. Markus hums lightly before looking over to the boxes to find the variety of limbs, scanning them to see if they were in appropriate states. I sigh, placing my hand onto his shoulder and direct him over to me

"Markus, you need to relax a little and trust me. I've got early cargo coming this way in two days, and then everything goes back to schedule. One visit of cargo per week. You're building each other up again slowly, but we have to be patient before making any dire actions of rebellion" I explain. I see his eyes soften for a second, as if he truly did calm down while looking at me, and it took me so much to not just kiss him right then and there.

The moment is cut short as North chuckles softly and mutters out loud enough for us to hear "Markus? Relax? Might wanna explain that to him."

Markus huffs at North's comment, crossing his arms and looks away from the shipment. He knows it's true, and the rebellion is always on his mind, but never like this. His led turns yellow and for a moment it blips to red before going back to yellow, and now I know something just isn't right.

"Can we talk? In private?" I asked.

--------

The roof was the perfect spot. The beautiful view of the city, the sounds of the city that I grew up in still as calming as ever. But it didn't keep me calm now, not with Markus stressed like this.

"Is something wrong? Did news come about Jericho?" I asked, concerned if maybe something or someone has blown our cover. Markus shook his head, his eyes avoiding mine as we stood in front of each. I can't help but think-

"Did I do something wrong?"

Markus's panics, eyes quickly on me again.

"No no, of course not. You're discrete, you go along with the plans, you're perfect- I just. I'm trying to find the words here" He explains. We stand there again in silence, and I feel calmer now knowing that it's not me who did something.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, [Name]?" Markus asks softly.

"What?"

He purses his lips- "Are you sure you want to keep doing this for us? The cargo, the running, leading with me?"

"Of course I am!" I exclaim, "You guys need this. I'm not going to just drop everything all of a sudden when I know that you guys are suffering. Plus there's thousands of more Androids in hiding and/or in suffering because of this... entire situation! I want to help you"

"But you could get hurt" Markus replies "What if the police catch onto you? What if you get caught in general on your way back?"

"I'm already deep into this, Markus. If I get hurt, or someone catches me, then someone can bail me out or something" I say. The thought of going to jail or getting hurt over this is scary, and Markus knows that, but I can't just back out now.

"[Name]-"

"And so what if I get hurt? Or caught? You guys are already close enough to start spreading the word now, we're so close, Markus"

"So what if you get hurt?" Markus snaps, "[Name], the last thing I need is you getting hurt"

"I'm not the only one sending in Cargo, you have Michael and R-"

"They aren't you, [Name]. I need you."

...We both pause in the moment. It felt like a confession, but we both realized his slip up. Markus doesn't back down though, he keeps going.

"Yeah. I need you, okay? Not because you're just some blue blood and limb mailman, but because I..." He takes a deep breath, his hands fidgeting with his jacket, "Because I love you. I need you safe and alive, and doing this entire thing can lead to you injuring yourself-- or worse. And the thought of it happening to you just makes me feel dread, so please, [Name]. I just, need you to be more careful out there"

His hand softly slips onto mine, locking our hands together as he leans his face closer towards mine. Slowly and carefully, we kiss. I feel his free hand on my waist as if he wants me closer, but we both know it's too soon. So we break and press our foreheads together, eyes looking into one another.

"...I love you too, Markus. And I'm going to stand beside you in this fight, no matter what" I start, "But I promise I'll be careful too, for you"

#Markus DBH #Markus #x male reader #male reader #x m reader #m reader #gay #dbh #Detroit become humans #detroit become human #ftm reader #x ftm reader #&.TwoHeartsWrites

[philhoffman]

The summer is almost over and I can't leave the season without this classic—Almost Famous (2000), dir. Cameron Crowe. I used to think it was a perfect start-of-summer film, but I'm realizing may be better suited to these late August, early September weeks.

I read a comment the other day from someone who was not the biggest fan of Philip Seymour Hoffman's acting, who said the real test of his skills and legacy would be which of his performances would stand the test of time. They doubted any of them would—he didn't have any "iconic" characters, they argued.

While I obviously disagree with their entire assessment—for just one example, The Master and his other projects with PTA will be/remain classics 50 years from now—it did make me think. Phil was, though it's a touchy term, often described as a character actor. Even when he was a leading man, he wasn't playing himself. An actual quote from him in 2002 I just found: "Even if I was hired into a leading-man part, I'd probably turn it into the non-leading-man part." He doesn't have an Indiana Jones, a James Bond, but I don't think that disqualifies him from having iconic or lasting characters.

That's what came to mind rewatching Almost Famous tonight, and I might argue Lester Bangs is PSH's most iconic character. If you consider the ratio between screen time and cultural influence, there's probably zero competition among his roles—under eight minutes of screen time vs. untold thousands of people who still quote, gif, share, gif, write, post, and otherwise remember and feel inspired by his words, over two decades later. (Dusty Davis might be the second-most influential, considering how many people got into storm-chasing thanks to Twister). He's a voice for generations of music lovers, film lovers, everyone who watched Almost Famous for the first time and fell in love with its magic or sided with Bangs' cynicism.

What does it matter what some stranger on the internet says, anyway. Whether people will be watching dozens of his films in 80 years or just a few or none at all, we're watching them now. Last night I found a tribute from film critic Brian Tallerico, from the days after Phil's death: "In Mary and Max, [PSH's character] Max says... 'We can, however, choose our friends, and I am glad I have chosen you.' Hoffman felt like more of a friend than another actor. And I am glad he chose us."

Patrick Fugit, playing William Miler, was just 16 when he starred in Almost Famous, his first movie ever. Phil was violently sick with the flu while filming, sweating and shaking and throwing up between takes. But he still found time to look out for others. Patrick wrote this remembrance of working with Phil, which is making me cry a lot as I reread it tonight:

They had lit the scene quite bright from the outside and the light was just behind Philip. So every time I would look at Philip, I would start squinting and my eyes would start watering, so I would kind of look down at the paper pad to pretend I was writing. They kept telling me, “Hey, you have to look at Philip when you read your lines.” I didn’t know how to say that I can’t actually physically keep my eyes on Philip but Philip had been watching me. He’s like, “Guys, c’mon! Can’t we move the fucking light? I mean, the kid can barely look across the table!” And he and [cinematographer] John Toll kind of got into it. John was like, “We’ll adjust it a little bit but the light’s there for a reason, buddy. We got to light the scene.” Philip said, “Fuck lighting! Do you want it to look fucking good or do you want the kid to be able to act!” ... Then they’re like, “Okay, we’ll move the light,” and then we shot the scene. But it was the first time where I got in a situation where I didn’t know if I could stand up for myself. And he just stepped up and did it for me. And then he kind of looked at me and smiled and said, “Dude, if something’s bothering you, you have to speak up.” I was like, “Okay, yeah, yeah, totally.”

#'dude if something's bothering you. you have to speak up.' #🥺 #monday philm #almost famous #philip seymour hoffman #psh #* #thanks for choosing us phil. i'd love you if you were teaching english in france. if you were pumping gas in the midwest. #but i think you picked well. i love you making art.

[chiconisroc]

Was Not the Hero/Not What You Expected Questions Round 4

Was it the palisman or glyph tattoos that caused Philip Curse?

Answer: It's a bit complicated, well, not so much, but I will be bringing it up into the story later. Well, Philip will explain it to someone in phase 3 : )

2. I feel if Philas was canon Philip will become a gay icon and many people with religious trauma or internalized homophobia will adore him.

Answer: I believe so too. I was legit expecting the show to go that route cause we don't really get to see such things before in shows. And it sucks cause there are many people in his situation still stuck in this self destructive hate that is also hurting other innocent peeps and would be nice to show those peeps they don't have to stay in such a dreadful path.

More Questions and Answers:

3. Wait chico don't tell them if you're religious they'll shoot you/joke

Answer: hahaha, idk if i can say i'm religious, but oh well, hahaha

4. What would Philip think of spicy food? If he can taste it?

Answer: If he could ever be able to taste food again, he probably would be so confused and not like it cause he isn't used to such feeling in his mouth burning, hahaha.

5. Have you seen a reverse of mud and feathers by Jess the vampire?

Answer: I have not o.o. I think, Idk, hahaha x.x, not sure what that is. I don't really look at other stuff much since I get fixated with my own writing. Writing thousands of words a week takes a lot of time from me v.v and if i'm not writing i'm like fixated on other random stuff cause gah, my brain. Or I'm just daydreaming constantly on future scenes for my fanfics. Even my ps5 is just collecting dust cause I ignore it, hahaha

6. Does Philip know some Puritan swear words?

Answer: He does, but he rather not swear if he can help it : )

7. Have Philip and Silas rode a horse together?

Answer: Yep, a few times honestly, without anyone noticing

8. I wonder How Luz would react to Philip being bi as her?

Answer: Oh, you will see in phase 3 : )

9. If Silas was a woman would she and Philip tried to conceive a child together?

Answer: For sure

10. How would Canon Philip feel about Silas?

Answer: Very conflicted honestly. He probably would avoid Silas but at the same time make sure Silas doesn't get corrupted by witches

11. Does Philip like cats and does he act like a cat?

Answer: Philip has no opinion on cats. And hahaha, idk, does he act like a cat? o.o

12. In “ Not What you expected” can Belos possess people that would further claim that he just a demon and would make him a major target for the witch Hunter than the actual witch?

Answer: Yah, Belos has the ability to possess people in that storyand would for sure further push the belief to others that he is a demon and would just cause him more problems later

The following questions are ones I cannot answer due to spoilers. Sorry peeps. I can't really answer specific future story stuff v.v

I’m Not what you expected would Philip help the boiling isles in the future and became an actual hero?

In “Not What you Expected”would Philip outlive Caleb and serve to protect his children till the president day to make up for his sins?

In “Not What You Expected” would Philip become a local legend in Gravesfield after centuries past and would Luz become a fan of him and maybe stumble upon the boiling isles?

In “ Not What you expected” would we get a scene paralleling Castlevania particular the Bishop and Blue fang demon inside of the church where the demon tears down the bishop lies about his work and how their work disgust God you can watch this scene on YouTube.

would Silas appear in “Not What you expected”?

”In Not What you expected” would Philip save that woman who is accused of being a witch?

”In Not What you Expected” would Philip try to awkwardly bond with Caleb, like climbing in his bed and trying to snuggle him while Caleb is praying and sweating that he won’t kill him in his sleep or try to do chores around the house but failing cause he drips and stinks.

would Philip and Evelyn become buddies in “ Not What you expected”?

#philip wittebane #the owl house #philip wittebane redemption #philip whittebane #Silas x philip #silas harding #philip x oc #was not the hero #nisroc chico #chiconisroc #philip #belos

[unofficial-sean]

Within my slump of a 4-day weekend, I've been lost in thought and spiraling deeper and deeper into a malaise, trying to answer a million questions and one.

How do I respond to the world adequately? On what level am I responsible for my fate and the fate of others?

This is going to sound like the ramblings of a narcissist, because it is.

I spend more time listening to people talk about issues than I myself speak on those issues. I absorb as this information about how I should see the world and it becomes the cast in which I am poured into. But I don't do anything with it. I get a hardened outer shell that seems to insulate me from those in my vicinity.

After George Floyd's murder, I listened to people of color and leftists talk about their struggles with police and the criminal justice system, and I nodded and agreed. And I did nothing. I didn't go to a protest. I didn't risk anything except for the paint on my helmets and car. I figured that if my voice was too meek to help, then I could at least be visible. And visibility still felt like near-death. I remember writing "I can't breathe" on the back of my motorcycle helmet when I heard what happened. And as I was crouching down to browse wine, some old guy asked what I'd written. I let him look closer. He laughed at me and walked away. It is nothing, and yet it felt like everything.

I'm scared of SUVs and trucks because usually bigots drive them. I'm scared of the American flag because bigots flaunt them. I'm scared of a lot of things because I think the people who hate me subscribe to them. But I'm too afraid to actually ask if that's the case. I walk through the world feeling so small and isolated, and to make up for it, I watch people I agree with online say the words that tell me I'm right for being a bright speck in a sea of what I think is darkness. Am I?

Police violence has taken a backseat to transphobia all year. And yeah, I'm absorbing that too. I'm spending more time hearing about transphobia and people dismantling it than I am interacting with trans people or participating in the cause, outside of checking the right boxes on my mail-in ballot. A private show of support. And it feels like nothing. I feel guilty. But I also feel scared. I'm not trans, I think I'm non-binary, but I don't know. All I know is that I like to wear eyeliner and skirts and leggings sometimes, and that when I wear it, I'm too scared to actually enjoy it. I ruin my top with fearful pit sweat, no matter how thorough I am with the deodorant. I'm afraid because I may as well be trans to the people who would hurt me.

But this is so selfish and stupid, isn't it? I've risked nothing. I'm not the person throwing bricks at cop cars at Stonewall, I'm just the person who dressed queerly to school and the grocery store. All I did was be visible. And you know what? I know that matters. I've had people come up to me and compliment me, which no one does when I dress masculine. It can't be because I look all that impressive, it must be because I made someone feel hope. It has to be, because it feels so terrifying to do.

Even when I want to talk about environmentalism, I feel apprehensive. I feel suppressed, but why what? I never confront anyone, I never bark, only whimper. My world never really seems to change. Now, when looking at flights, they show the CO2 emissions of the flight. Lovely. And Amazon gets to keep doing what Amazon does, and transit's still limited, and the polluters keep polluting, but at least we all agree it's happening.

I question if my HVAC quest is misguided, too. It's a bandaid. It's a short-term solution to a megalithic disaster, and one that costs ten's of thousands per home. And it's about installing products. Products made by the system. Is this cause righteous? Have I just made an error?

Oh look, I can immigrate to Ireland if my net worth is over $2M and I invest $1M in the country. Easy. Yeah, that's money I will have. Eventually. Maybe. The flight will release 500kg of CO2 into the atmosphere. Ireland supports Palestine, unlike the U.S. I bet they're more like me than anyone here. Or is that a delusion? I haven't said anything about Palestine here. No, I stayed quiet like a good little boy not wanting to rock the boat. Trying to avoid it because I can't handle any more tragedy, boo hoo, while thousands perish on the other side of the planet, and it's all funded by people my neighbors voted for. FUCK.

I don't want to be ignorant, but the knowledge has been crushing me for so long, and I want to unplug and go far away. I'm glued in place. I say I don't care for politics, but I so am. I am addicted to the conflict and I want to see it all and I wanna feel like I'm on the right side of history while I'm stuck inside my room where I've always been when all of this has been happening.

I don't want to talk about politics and current events, but I haven't' spent as much time with anything else, so I have nothing to say. Nothing that isn't technical. Nothing that would draw people to me. I can't make friends talking about basking shark migration patterns, or crow behavior, or potential relays, or electrical diagnostics.

Textbooks make for dry reading, but I think I will find more peace reading from them than from hearing about conflict any longer. I'm tempted to leave social media behind. I am no longer sane enough to discern propaganda from reality. I have been harming myself for too long.

#vent #if it weren't obvious

[barfok]

I’m not sure if sending this will help at the moment (though I have been meaning to for a while) but at least in my own little opinion, your writing is totally magnetic. I don’t even like fanfiction, for a myriad reasons, but I find myself immediately drawn into and invested in the pieces you write. I feel like your work is really on a magnificent level that is genuinely transformative, and that’s why I love it so much.

I want to say that you, more so than Todd or K*rkbride or that Schick guy from ESO or anyone else, make the world and history and cultures of TES feel real to me. But more than that, your attention to detail, to world-building, to pay-off from climactic moments, to writing realistic relationships of all kinds… it may still technically “just” be the Elder Scrolls, but these aspects more than stand on their own as a reflection of the skill and dedication you’ve put into your craft. Seeing familiar characters and events and worlds given due justice is a bonus of course, but it is not the only thing that defines your work, and at this point I am more than convinced to read anything you write.

I know I said I don’t like fanfiction but I have, aiming for a similarly transformative work, written it before. So I do have a lot of painful empathy for the situation of pouring blood sweat and tears into something that is inexorably tied to an existing media, especially that relatively few people will read. It really really sucks and it can feel so pointless and exhausting and frustrating. Deciding that all writing is practise helped a bit… taking apart the pieces of existing fantasy worlds and finding out how to improve them has taught me a lot about world-building and writing. I hope it has for you to.

Even if you feel it hasn’t… idk I’m not demanding that you agree with all this because I know it’s really hard to see or accept compliments on creative works when feeling down about them. But I felt I needed to send this anyway. I know am just one stranger on the internet but as someone who has followed Iliah and Karnalta and Egg of Time and your other work for a few years now, I just wanted to say thank you for sharing them. Your work is wonderful and inspiring and wholly unique and I hope you continue to write in whatever way makes you happiest

i'm ngl i misread the first line as "your writing is totally misogynistic" and thought that i was about to be attacked. oh my god

that said, this is an incredibly kind comment, and i really appreciate it-- thank you so much for taking the time to send it. as you obviously understand, writing derivative work feels like a completely thankless task at some points, so any and all feedback is extremely appreciated. even someone saying, "hey, i read that!" is like a godsend

i do justify all of this as writing practice and to be fair it has paid off in non-fanfic related writing (i've actually won a couple of competitions with original short stories i've written, and my academic writing is the only part of my academic career that's consistently complimented). i also justify it by the sheer fact that... i'm autistic, this is the topic i happen to be fixated on, and indulging that fixation releases a nice concoction of brain chemicals simply by virtue of how my brain is constructed. a lot of my frustration with myself is that i happen to be fixated on this, but this is an agony i've had since like 2018 so i don't foresee it changing any time soon. oh well.

i'm really glad you enjoy my work despite it being fucking, elder scrolls fanfiction. i just really do not have the words to say how much this message means to me, thank you a thousand times.

[teresalace]

💲🐖 Put Your Money where your mouth is. Oink. (Female OC x Paypig reader)

• Warnings: Paying behaviour, human ATM, money slave to a femdom, soft femdom, blackmail, non consensual humiliation and soft financial domination, soft bullying, the femdom is my female OC. SFW.

∆ MINORS DNI? Viewer discretion is advised. Safe for work. ∆

Summary: You were going to be owned, completely, financially by a bratty bachelorette who shoves you past your limit and wallet to entertain her at her own party.

🥴 Author's Note: First time writing more humiliation stuff (fun fact I am slightly stressed so gimme your monei) hope it's good guys and happy Halloween!! 1.9k words!💲💲💲And to Yall little cash piggies, send my Kofi or paypal some love and plenty of cash 🥱just do it cause piggies don't get a say so, I do.

~~~~~~

It isn't love at first sight but a deep reverence when you lay eyes on… Her. Lucky for you, you aren't going broke anytime. Famous last words until paycheck day.

"Like, honestly," the redhead woman clicks her tongue, tone deliciously condescending. "I'm doing YOU a favour."

Laura fingers the stack of random dollar bills on the high bar table across from you, taking her sweet time counting all your hard earned cash right in front of your sweat dripping face.

"See how good I'm treating your– Hah!– I mean, it's MY money now. You should practise more gratitude in your life before someone else does it better for you." Like a slave, you find yourself nodding along agreeingly to a woman you barely knew.

She sounds pleased with herself for a second as she mentally totalled the amount in her hands, then a flicker of her smokey gaze sets on you in hardened dissatisfaction and your body shivers in delightful cold sweat. The good kind that buries itself in the lower part of your jeans. You never knew you could be this turned on in your life.

Helplessly, your eyes track her newly bridal manicures combing through the money you tributed her, as she hums along to the song being played overhead, a classic nude shade matching her cocktail dress though tastefully chosen– you know in your heart of hearts that it could've been done better. She could've and should be treated to better things. 

A goddess like her, albeit a not-so-single stranger you just met and got pressured into joining the fun, deserves even more. 

Exaggeratingly you clear your throat to be heard over the surrounding chatter, heart hammering in it when you gesture politely to her hands. "Can I pay for your nails? When you want new ones, of course." 

In nervous wait, you dare not to make eye contact until sensing her sharp gaze on you.

Her electric pink lips purse upwards before she releases a genuine laugh at you, making her abundant auburn curls bounce over her bare shoulders. "Awww how sweet… Oh you would like to, now wouldn't you?"

Laura checks her nails under the soft light like she's assessing how much of your offer is deserving of her acceptance… Not that you would know what a goddess like her is thinking, you could only anxiously (and excitedly) guess in your stuffy seat. 

"Well? Don't waste my precious time, it's nothing like yours." She snaps, one hand tightly gripping the tribute money while she pointedly looks at her empty open palm expectantly and beckoning for more. More of the hidden money in your large pockets.

Hesitantly, with an obvious nervousness at this interaction, you fished out a large crisp bill from your wallet and placed it carefully in her open palm. Hoping the amount would please her.

- $1000 

"Wow… Wooooww, I can't believe you're trying to be a smartass little piggy," Laura scoffs viciously, easily crumbling the bill in her hand to make a show of her point.

The degrading nickname she called you had sent multiple electric waves down to your… growing arousal.

"A thousand dollars isn't nearly enough for the kind of nails I want. I can't believe you tried to trick me, Me. Do you know who I am?!" 

Your mind instantly answers that she is a goddess, unlike your delayed mouth. "N-No?" Crap.

"A worthless virgin piece of shit like you should be bowing to me right now, heck, you should feel grateful for every second you BREATHE in my air. Get down on your knees, pig." There was a slight mutter of disgust beneath her breath as her ruby lips curled in displeasure, sending you to instantly bow forwards and fall onto your knees like a loose Russian doll. 

Her disgust further grew at the sight of your eager and willing display to please her.

No doubt some of the bar patrons' curious gazes skirt to you like, some bubbles of laughter towards your display of obedience while most ignored what was going on. You just became another piece of entertainment for an uncaring and leering audience.

"Hmph. At least you can listen, that's not too bad… But I can't believe you're actually doing this. This is so embarrassing for you, ugh." Laura giggled almost delightfully into her hand after a quick glance down at you by her feet. 

"Now go make yourself a little useful and get me and my girlfriends some bottles."

And you did. The server coming by had to bend down to take your order from your position on the floor, an uncomfortable look from them all the while smiling professionally.

Laura didn't talk to you for the rest of the party, just chit chatting with the ladies and other people with a full glass of bubbly. It was difficult to convince yourself to change sitting positions to relieve the burning numbness in your thighs and legs when you'd sense Laura's overwhelming grey gaze over you as if to check whether or not you listened well. 

The smallest quirk of her auburn eyebrows gave you the feeling while she wasn't exactly pleased- she had approved, even without sparing another word. The tingles across your spine from knowing that was wonderful.

You felt that hours must've passed but in reality the night had just begun.

Excusing herself for the restroom, Laura got off the bar stool and in the process accidentally her heels half-stepping on your thigh, gifting you sharp and hard pain. She let out a laugh as she disappeared to the back of the bar while you swear you could still feel the indent and shape of her stiletto heels.

A cute mousy woman looks down at you with eyes shining in concern before returning her attention to the rest of her drunken friends at the table. "Don't you guys think she's being a little mean to that poor man?" 

The drunkest woman hiccuped and smacked the table, loudly scoffing. "Oh please! He wants to be here, it's his choice- if you were really worried about him then you would've tried to pull us all away from here. But you didn't, so it's not that bad." 

"A pathetic fuck is what that is, the poor guy." Another friend of Laura's laughed snidely, downing a shot from the third round of drinks that you paid for. 

You were just there, an existing humiliation as the conversation continued to flow above your head— soon enough the women forgot about you as more desserts and colourful drinks were served

Meant the lighter your wallet felt, it didn't matter because you loved every throbbing second of it. 

You were becoming Laura's personal walking ATM machine. Disposable.

.   .   .

Sephora shopping sprees with a group of beautiful women sounds like a dream come true, especially when you've been dragged along by Laura every week– it wasn't a problem after the first month or so but she ignored your tiny protests to meet her despite her knowing you had work today. It's not as if she cared about you or your hard-on.

 Nothing stopped her from pressuring you to call in sick like a 'loser pig' while the invisible pressure belted around your neck squeezed pleasurably tighter as Laura verbally forced you to spend more than your consented limit.

Looks like you were going to have to cancel the restaurant reservations for your nieces and nephews or survive off the impending doom of pennies remaining in your bank account.

The only thing you couldn't cancel was the uncomfortably taunt and hardcore boner taped against your inner thigh. An order by Laura and her friends for shits and giggles. 

They never checked to see or asked if you really listened to their words. They didn't need to. 

You know they don't give a shit about you, the fact cementing itself pleasurably in your mind as none of your messages to your mistress received any replies. She only texts you the necessary details, nothing more and you loved it.

— 'Ashlee Avenue. Raven's spa. Tomorrow 4 PM.' 

'Yes, Madame.' The only appropriate response.

.   .   .

But there are unfortunate times where you've made her unhappy. Just to what extent, you were about to find out her wrath. 

On the pristine marble flooring of her bedroom in her shared penthouse. Her fiancè at the pool, lounging under the sun and barely batting an eye when you were ordered around. 

"I'll say this once nicely, piggy, since you're going to be MY pig and anything I own should have somewhat of a brain cell left in their pathetic skulls. Am I right?" Laura's voice viciously echoed in the large room, her auburn hair lit like an intimidating smouldering flame against the entirely white walls and decor.

"Y-Yes, Madame." Instantly you answer obediently.

"Good, good! See you're not so stupid, piggy… Understand this from now onwards, if you aren't making me happy or trying to, then I'm gonna have to be the big bad wolf and blow you away." Laura let out half a cackle at her own joke before collecting her composure and continuing, looking down her sharp nose at your dog seated position in plain judgement.

She slowly lowers herself to a deep squat, serious eyes levelling an inch right above yours as she leans in slightly close, wrinkling her nose at the 'stench' of your pathetic desperation to be fully hers. Her next words almost took you out of consciousness from the shock and pleasurable terror. 

"I'll blow your fucking reputation to the ground by posting about you attempting to fuck me, Mr Assistant manager, an engaged woman. You can say bye bye to your career and family if you even have any. The fucking point is, I'll destroy everything you're apart of and make sure your name is too ruined for you to get back up on your feet—" 

Laura cut herself off for a short intake of breath, playfully glaring at you as if you had tired her mouth. "So if I were you, unless you want your boss finding out about you trying to steal somebody's wife, be ready to oink whenever I call for you. It's simple instructions just like opening that big fat wallet of yours for me, don't you agree, little piggy?"

"Y..Yes—" Her glare narrowed on you in warning. "— Uh, oink. Oink!" 

Your brain must've fried itself on the high dosage of dopamine and horniness as you realised you were sounding out the words instead of making the actual noises a pig would. It was pathetic either way, your attempts too.

"Oh you can do better than that, I know you can." She tutted, smug in her absolute power over you. "But… practice does make perfect. Animals like you need to remember their place. Now next time oink louder, cheap piggy." 

For her, you did. 

🐖🐖🐖

Within the year, you've 20 000 dollars tributed to your Mistress. Everything was worth it but nobody could ever find out about the true degenerate that you are.

"Piggy piggy," a lazy beach-themed manicure hand beckons you to come closer on all fours towards the edge of the swaying hammock, the rough sand beneath grinding painfully into your bare knees and palms as you did your best efforts to oink despite the delicious exhaustion.

Laura admires her nails under the bright sunlight and barely acknowledged you, as your nose caught the faintest whiff of the expensive feminine perfume you've bought for her clinging onto her slightest tanned skin. "You still got your savings right?" 

"Oink oink oink!" You hoped your voice conveyed an eager 'yes.' 

"Good, good. You'd be even more useless to me if you're penniless so soon. I've drained one of your wallets high and dry huh?" She laughs without a care in the world, as she should.

"Oink oink!!!"

Yes, Mistress. 

End.

#teresalace #financialdom #x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #writing #Male reader #Female OC #female oc x reader #Sfw #Paypig reader #oneshot

[samuelsimauthour]

I WROTE THIS FOR MY BOYFRIEND. he's a whore. (love you Nic)

I haven't writen anything that wasn't for my WIP or for school in so long that i almost forgot how fun it is to write one shots. So, heres the one i just wrote for my boyfriend.

Starchaser. Fluff/Mild Smut.

I'm storming off the quidditch pitch covered in mud, sweat, and blood when I hear an all too familiar voice holler from behind the bleachers.

"Io, Potter! You look like like shit!" The dark haired boy is gleaming in excitement and wonder. Regulus Arcturus Black, my bestfriends brother, and the boy i have had a crush on for so fucking long. I offer him a polite smile and a wave.

"I just got my ass handed to me, but thank you so much for your concern." I shout back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I continue making my way to the castle and Reggie follows behind not saying a word but I can sense his eyes piercing the back of my skull. I whip around and glare at the beautiful porcelain skinned boy, only to be met with a smile. Who even knew that Regulus could produce anything more than the permanent scowl.

"Are you just going to follow me all the way to the castle?"

"Perhaps. Your arse is nice to look at."

"Bloody hell, are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Nope, just stating facts."

I roll my eyes and continue through the quad to the entrance then up the stairs and past Dumbledore's office to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room all the while Reg is still stalking behind me at a safe distance. As I am about to enter the stairwell I check around to make sure no one else is there and turn to face Reggie.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You most definitely can't come in here?" Is half yell half whisper. The sun from the window shining on this magnificent boy's high cheekbones and emerald eyes almost made me swoon.

"Oh sod off. I'm just going to see my brother."

Of course. Sirius. How had I not thought of that? Still holding his gaze I say the password that grants entrance to the common room and allow him to follow closely behind until we reach the bottom of the stairs and I head straight for the dormitories to take a shower and get dressed.

I return to the dormitory from having a shower to find Regulus laying on my bed reading. Puzzled and exhausted, I walk over to the bed and take the book out of his hands. He frowns up at me and I remember that I only have a towel wrapped around my waist. I quickly close the canopy around my bed and throw on the closest article of clothes I can find, gold and red flannel pj bottoms. Surely there could be something better around here but I have a really attractive boy in my bed and I just want to go to sleep. I open the canopy and crawl into the bed shoving Reggie off the other side in the process.

"Hey! what was that for?" He grunts out after sitting up. I look down and shrug.

"You were in my spot."

"Don't act like you don't like seeing me in your bed. I've noticed you staring at me and watching for me in the halls between classes." Reg sounds so sure of himself so I push my anxiety away for the moment and retort in the best way I know: sarcasm.

"I have no clue what youre talking about. You must have me mistaken for someone else." I look away then back at him quickly to study his face. Hes so fuckin' hot.

"Really? You are quite literally staring at me right now." He brushed off his pants and sat on the bed with me, his legs crossed and his back straight. I blush a thousand shades of red and scootch closer to the head board and pick up the book I had pulled from his hands earlier. Regulus takes that as his cue to move closer to me and my breath hitches in my throat and I have to remind myself how to breathe momentarily. Our thighs are touching and I am fighting the urge to reach out and grab his handsome face and kiss him, but I know that Sirius and Remus could be back from the library any minute and i dont have the energy to deal with the wrath of Sirius right now.

I look at the younger black brother only to be met face to face, our mouths inches apart and i think for a moment that i have died and gone to heaven. Before i can even say anything Regulus places a gentle finger under my chin and tilts my head up so our eyes meet and i get lost in the sea of green for a few seconds and then his lips are on mine. Not on a deep kiss but a slow, torturous one where it feels like it could never last long enough. Startled, I went to pull back but Reg put a hand on my neck to steady me and before I knew it he's on top of me, straddling my lap.

"Reg, we can't, well get caught."

"I put up silencing and cloaking charms while you were in the shower. We're fine. Please just let me kiss you." Impressed and confused, I just stare, nod, then place my hands on either side of his face, one snaking around to the back to play with his hair, the other brushing my thumb over his lips. I smile.

"Merlin. I've wanted you for so long. I've wanted to know what you taste like..." I’m cut off by Reg kissing me, his lips crashing down this time, heated and full of fervor. Almost like he needs to kiss me to survive. I don't hesitate this time, I'm kissing him back with just as much passion and groping at every inch of his body that I can reach. I pull at his sweater and he takes if off tossing it to the side somewhere. I then slowly begin to trace shapes on his back and kiss his neck leaving soft hickies and bite marks along his collar bones, easily eliciting soft moans and whimpers from the boy in my hands. I shift us so that he's lying on his back and I'm now straddling him, one of my thighs between his legs. I shift my body weight teasingly and the taller boy lets out a groan of contentment mixed with a twinge of frustration. I begin tracing his scars and his stomach with gentle finger tips. I leave a trail of bite marks and bruises all the way down his chest and by the time I get to his belt I have him panting like a dog. I smirk to myself. 

“Good Puppy.” Reg tries to buck his hips at my words but the weight of my chest pinning him down makes it hard to do so. 

“Yes, daddy.” he breathes out, blushing and trying to cover his face with his arm. I gently pry it away and smile up at him kissing just above the waist of his pants. I slowly start to un-do them when I’m startled back to earth by Sirius yelling. 

“James BrotherFucking Potter! How dare you defile my brother in our dormitory!?” Sirius is standing at the foot of my bed and he looks a cross between pissed right off and trying not to piss himself laughing. 

I slowly get off of Reg and we both just stare at Sirius. I start to speak but before I can even say anything, Sirius is already leaving the room, stomping about muttering about how he knew this was going to happen and how he isn’t surprised. I turn back to Reg who looks absolutely mortified and pull him into my chest. 

“I think that was enough excitement for one day. Do you want to sleep here tonight?” I yawn and take off my glasses, placing them neatly on the bed side table. 

“Yes.” All Reg says before he requests some pajamas and I pull out some green ones I had stolen from him last year. We sleep half naked and curled into each other. My mind is so full of bliss and terrified of what Sirius and the others will say in the morning when I try to sneak out Regulus from our dorm before breakfast.

#james x regulus #starchaser #james loves regulus #the marauders era #regulus black #jegulus #james potter

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

[desired-victim]

Helloo! I wanted to request hisoka with corruption kink. Just write however you want to lolol i dont mind any freaky🏃

Ha *wipes sweat off forehead* I hope this hard work pays off. I put every ounce of effort in writing this 😮‍💨. I didn’t do any bullet points on this one but it does have about four thousand words! Please ignore the possible grammar mistakes, I do have trouble writing dialogue. I worked on yours all night long and I’m exhausted. My fingers sure are. I kept your request deeply in mind. You can see poor, little (Y/N)’s innocence melt right off her like ice cream ;). Anyway, here’s your request, my love 💕

I wanted to honor the divine feminine so you will see my appreciation for the female body below 👇

💕TW: The content below contains: degradation, domination kink, submission kink, dub con, threat of forced anal intercourse, pure smut, corruption kink, possible bad grammar, loss of virginity, dirty talk, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, corruption of innocence, Oh, and Hisoka is a TW itself.

Enjoy…

He’s tall.

God, he is so tall. Such long, strong legs - slender yet thick with muscle. Despite being erotically pleasant, his legs weren’t the best part of him. The best part of him was what your eyes followed. From his shins, to his knees, to his thighs, to his hips, to that beautifully sculpted torso of his, to his neck, and then you reached his eyes.

Those eyes. Those sharp, golden eyes of his.

His eyes unsettled most people. It was as though they could pierce your very soul, and see how weak and worthless you truly are. He's a predator - always keen, always aware, and always watching for a reason for you to be his next target.

Hisoka… how did you get those eyes?

She wondered how she caught his attention. He was the type of man to overlook girls like her. A blushing, doe eyed dolt, who could barely speak to strangers without stuttering a storm.

Why? Why would someone like Hisoka find her worthy of even being near him? Of being in his bed, of being by his side, of being between his legs. He is so very special, and I'm…

“My Little Slice, you look delightful when your down there~”

His voice shook her out of her thoughts. She looked at his teasing gaze and meekly lowered her sight to his lips. There, she saw them curl up into a grin. She tensed up and covered her naked chest with her arms. Just then, she realized how unbelievably exposed she was to his scrutiny.

“Oh, nervous now~,” he laughed out, sitting up from the headboard and closer to her face, “isn’t that sweet…”

More red than ever, she turned her face from Hisoka and leaned back. Instead of letting her move away, his hand wrapped around her wrist and thrusted her towards him. She yelped out as her cheek pressed against his hard chest, her face embarrassingly hotter than his cool skin. His chest rumbled as he let out a chuckle.

She put her hands against his chest and attempted to pull away, but his arm wrapped itself around her. She struggled to shove herself away and her efforts were all for nothing; he hadn’t moved an inch.

Perhaps it was foolish to pursue a 200th floor fighter. Where was her older brother to protect her now? He had lectured her beforehand about the dangerous people here and she laughed him off and teased him about being some sort of guard dog. Now, she needed him more than ever. She had never been in a situation like this before.

“No boys allowed, Y/N!” he usually shouted out, a vein practically popping out of his forehead. It almost seemed like he loved saying that as it was repeated over and over throughout her life.

All she wanted to do was explore a place she never ventured to. To seek the thrill that felt so curious and good, yet hidden like the inside of a flower that hasn't bloomed yet. A buzzing heartbeat that formed when she laid alone at night and gently ran her fingers up her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers.

Please help me, B/N…

Her struggles came to an end as she huffed, breathlessly. Hisoka’s hand trailed down her shoulders to her waist and to her hips. His hand was met with the pleasant plumpness of her bottom. She squeaked out in shock as his hand roughly squeezed her ass and kneaded it like dough. A loud crack reverated across the room as he slapped it, leaving a red blur behind. She gasped and her face converted into an embarrassed cringe. Frustrated tears pricked in her eyes as her fingernails dug deeply into his skin.

Once again, she attempted to wiggle away. Instead of his arm wrapping around her shoulders once again, she was swept over and under him. He was hovering over her and there was no way to escape. Her previous attempts at fighting back were a failure, and she no longer wanted to fight, only to flee.

Her eyes shot out towards Hisoka’s face only to find him smiling down at her. His warm breath fanning her face and his hips between her thighs.

The glint in his eyes shook her to the core. His facial expression was teasing and playful, but his eyes told a completely different story. She’s seen that look on his face before. The same expression on his face as he killed his opponents. He looked like an apex predator who was about to break the neck of his prey with his jaws.

“You’ve never been fucked before, haven’t you?” he asked, his finger trailing down her cheek, rubbing off a tear she hadn’t noticed fell.

Her face scrunched up at his vulgar language.

“No, I’ve never been f-“ she paused, hesitating before quickly spitting out, “no, ive never been f… fucked before.” Another tear came out of her eye. She never cursed - She wasn’t allowed to.

Hisoka giggled, his smile twisting even further. He looked down at her precious expression and felt his arousal rise.

“You're utterly adorable, you know that? I almost feel a little bad about this. Almost. But you wanted to play, and don’t be a spoiled brat when the other player is better at the game than you.” He mocked, his sardonic gaze on her. It made her want to shrink into the mattress and never come out.

“Now, now,” he said, sitting up, “I’ll make it as comfortable as I can.”

He spread her thighs and examined her high waisted shorts. He grabbed the zipper at the top and unzipped it. Down and down it went, until her underwear was revealed to him.

“After all, the first cut into the cake has to be perfect.”

Her shorts were suddenly off her and on the ground. She was only in her underwear now, more exposed than ever. Most naked she’d been since that time she went to the beach. She’d gotten sunburnt that day. At least then she had a top, now her whole body was on display to him.

Hisoka hummed as he tugged his own bottoms off, revealing the thick length of his cock. His cock looked magnificent combined with the rest of his body. That sexy v-cut of his looked like two arrows directing me to look at his big dick, so large it almost dangled under its own weight. It held its own though, refusing to droop over.

How is that thing going to fit inside of me? she thought.

He spread her legs wide open and examined the thin material of her underwear as the form of her vulva showed through. The flimsy material was practically invisible.

Hisoka’s big hands grabbed her behind her knees, pushing her legs up while also spreading them even further. The bed squeaked out as Hisoka crawled on his knees over to her, placing himself over her.

Hisoka’s claws clenched themselves around her legs, indenting the soft flesh, “You have such a soft, innocent face,” he said, his face hovering over menacingly. “But I know a hungry little whore lies beneath the surface… let me feed that little whore~❤️.”

Hisoka let go of one of her legs and let it fall against the bed. Her loose leg was between his two thighs and her other leg was still being held. The top half of her body was still on the bed. Hisoka’s strength was maintained as he carried half of her body weight into the air.

He’s so strong… of course he is, that’s to be expected of a top floor fighter.

The bed let out a groan as Hisoka pushed himself onto her covered cunt, rubbing his dick between her labia majora. His cock stroked the sensitive heat over and over again, he could feel her hotness tightening and then softening as her pussy throbbed to the beat of her heartbeat. The head of his cock stroked her hard clit over and over again, the little bump riddled with sensitive nerves. Her underwear was sopping as her pussy leaked out sweet nectar. The tip of Hisoka’s cock was also leaking with precum, mixing in with her own sweetness and creating an erotic cocktail.

“Yes, don’t stop,” she begged. “Please don’t stop - I want to cum so bad. Please let me cum, please!”

Hisoka let out a breathy laugh. “If you want to cum so bad, you need to beg for it. Only good girls get to cum. Are you a good girl~?”

“Yes! I’m a good girl! I’m your good girl, Hisoka!”

“Aw, you're so cute when you beg. But I don’t think you're a good girl. No, I think you're a naughty, little slut. Little sluts only get to cum when they're being fucked.”

The sensitive head of Hisoka’s cock pulsated with pleasure as he rubbed it against the soaked underwear. If he kept doing it, he was going to cum way too fast. He couldn’t let that happen. Not before he stretched her virgin pussy with his cock. He’d be damned if he let himself orgasm before biting into her innocence.

His nails dug into her thigh as he pushed himself further into her, making sure there wasn’t an inch of space between their heats. He was going to blow and If he didn’t stop, he wasn’t gonna see that shocked expression of hers when came in her for the first time. The longer he waited, the better.

(Y/N)’s pussy clenched and her breathing sped up. She was going to cum.

I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to-

Hisoka pulled back.

“No!” She yelled, kicking her leg in frustration. She let out another yell as her leg didn’t even move an inch in Hisoka’s grip. His grip was too strong. There was no way she could force her way to freedom.

“I was so close!” she shouted, a tear threatening to fall from her eyes. “Why did you stop! I felt so good!”

Hisoka threw his head back and let out a loud, sadistic laugh.

“Haha, you're so cute when you're feisty! I’m glad I’m the first who gets to fuck you.”

He let go of her leg after getting over his giggling attack. She found herself embarrassed as she blew out strings of her own hair out of her own mouth.

As she was pulling strings of hair out of her mouth, she was suddenly pulled back onto the bed by Hisoka’s hands around her hips. She gulped as she saw Hisoka’s face hovering over her crotch.

The part of her underwear that directly covered over her cunt was a darker shade than the rest of her underwear from when they grounded against each other like animals in heat.

She watched nervously as he adjusted his position. She let out a whole body shiver as both of his thumbs opened her lips like a little book.

Hisoka licked the side of her cunt - not directly stimulating her but gently teasing her. While not directly pleasuring her, the motion relaxed her from her last intense session. A little between-the-main-courses snack, if you will.

She sat up on her elbows and watched as Hisoka lapped at both sides of her lips. She felt a swell of affection begin to grow in her chest as she watched Hisoka’s cheek press itself onto the inside of her thigh. She realized how bold she’s gotten since they began to play with each other. In such a short while, Hisoka had corrupted her - denting that once-perfect surface with his perverted nature. To think ten minutes ago she was so shy she could barely even curse. In such a short time, she’d cursed more than she had in a year. A pang of guilt filled her as she thought about how her older brother would react. But he wasn’t here, and he never had to know.

In her own thoughts, she didn’t notice Hisoka’s face twist into a mischievous smile. Her eyes widened in terror as she felt his tongue on her covered asshole.

“Hisoka!” She shouted out.

How can someone be so vulgar?

“Oh, I’m sorry, my Little Slice~. I just love it when your sweet, angelic face turns into one of horror. It turn me on so badly~❤️”

Hisoka only smiled and slid his tongue upwards towards her pussy. He pushed the tip of his tongue against the entrance of her vagina and wiggled it there. If it wasn’t for her underwear, his tongue would have been inside her pussy.

The nerves around her hole were ablaze and her legs were shaking - with fear, excitement or pleasure? Perhaps all three, she did not know. All she wanted was to be pounded by him; she didn’t care how big and thick he was (from what she saw earlier, his cock had to be as thick as her forearm). Though she was unexperienced and naive to the acts of sex, this feeling was primal and indispensable. She needed it, she needed it like a runner needs water.

His tongue dragged itself from her entrance to her clit.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned out and spread her legs wider without an ounce of shame.

It was overwhelming in the best way possible. It was the most electrifying thing she’d ever experienced and she never wanted it to end. She wanted to be there forever - in that limbo of titillation and erotic reality that was unlike anything she could recreate with her imagination.

Hisoka rapidly moved his tongue against her clit. She squealed out loud and attempted to move her hips but his hands grabbed her hips and pushed them to the bed and continued to flick her covered clit with his tongue.

She lifted herself up to her elbows and looked down at him. A hint of fear aroused in her as she made direct eye contact with him. She was so caught up in her own pleasure she didn’t realize how deeply she was looking into his eyes.

As she continued to lock her eyes with his, her pussy began to relax, getting ready to tighten and cum on his tongue. Her heavy breathing paused and she caught that expression in her eyes.

Then her panties were ripped in half and her bare cunt was revealed to him. In a split second, his entire tongue was inside of her.

She screamed as her virgin cunny squeezed itself around his long, wicked tongue. Hisoka laughed out and wiggled his tongue - messaging and caressing her inner walls as she cummed.

The wetness of her aroused cunt seeped out and dripped down to her asshole, to which Hisoka slurped up and continued his assault on her cunny again. He did this over and over again until I couldn’t handle it anymore. My hands tried to push him away but he didn’t even budge. It wasn’t until my legs began to kick out in panic did he pull away.

“Ah, ah,” she panted, body completely limp. Hisoka observed her body. Her soft stomach was gleaming with sweat and the inside of her thighs were also gleaming.

“You might be the sweetest candy I’ve had since I first tried Bungee Gum all those years ago. I knew the moment I popped it into my mouth it would never leave me, marking me with its sweet syrupy taste just like a Scarlet Letter. Would it be a bold thing to say that you're just like Bungee Gum? You get so pink when you're played with. The pink on your cheeks is almost the same shade as my favorite snack.”

Hisoka let out a sudden dramatic sigh that startled (Y/N) for a second. “Unfortunately, the company who used to make Bungee Gum went bankrupt so now I have to search far and wide just to get a taste. Luckily for me, something similar is always nearby for me to stretch and pull at.”

He paused, looking directly into (Y/N)’s eyes with his own yellow ones. “You are, my sweet little slice~”

Hisoka grabbed her ankles and slapped her legs together. The loud smack of her thighs' sudden connection reverated across the room.

Hisoka wrapped his big hand over both of her ankles and grabbed his cock, stroking back the foreskin to reveal the pink, sensitive tip and a pearl of precum forming. He placed the tip of his cock on her clit, rubbing it in little circles before sliding it down her slit until it reached her entrance at the very bottom. He felt tempted to slip it into her ass before deciding it wasn’t worth the screeching. Even though he could easily cover her mouth and sodomize her tight little ass, he couldn’t just jump into completely breaking her; It would be a better idea to slowly lower her into the fire. A slow burn would be ten times more satisfying.

Putting both of my legs onto one side of his shoulders, he used his weight to push his entire cock into her pussy until his ballsack was resting against her ass.

She hissed through her teeth and threw her head back. She was filled with his cock. So full. So, so full.

She was bursting with new sensations. A new type of pain, a new type of pleasure. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt yet so primal and familiar. It was an instinct she never realized she had.

Bending over her with her legs still on her shoulder, Hisoka connected their lips for the first time that night. She could taste her own saltiness on his lips. It wasn’t the type of kiss she’d seen on romance shows (the ones her brother decided were appropriate enough to watch). No, this kiss was the complete opposite of those. This kiss was rough, unlike anything else.

She felt a burst of bravery as she slipped her tongue out and shyly lapped at his bottom lip. Hisoka let out a sardonic chuckle.

“Feeling brave now, are we?”

(Y/N) yelped as Hisoka slid his entire tongue inside her mouth, licking every corner of her mouth. Nothing was left untouched.

After completely violating her mouth with his tongue, Hisoka pulled away, smiling down at her.

“Are you ready?” He whispered. (Y/N) let out a shuddering breath and nodded. She braced herself by meekly grabbing onto the shoulder that didn’t have her legs with one hand, the other gripping onto the sheets.

Hisoka pulled back until only the tip of his cock remained in her, then he slammed into her with great strength. Her breath completely left her body with the slam of his hips. His hips smashing against her buttocks made a filthy sound that made her want to cum. The plop, plop sound that her pussy was also doing things to her.

Hisoka grunted with every hard thrust. She fit him just like a glove. It was almost like she was made for him. While the male penis did not have as many nerve endings as female genitals, a man can augment his sensations and cause it to heighten by being caressed just right. By holding her against himself, fucking her in a salacious dance, the more sensation builds up in his penis just like when a woman’s clitoris is tapped just so…

The friction of his cock pulling on her inner walls before being pushed inside once again left (Y/N) in a concoction of emotions. First, complete and utter pleasure. As he slammed his cock into her, dopamine bursted in her mind like an explosion of drugs. Second, regret. If her brother ever found out, how would he react to his own little sister getting fucked by the murderous Magician, Hisoka? She knew he’d feel like all his work to keep her safe were a waste of time and energy. Like all those years of pampering and protecting went right down the drain. She couldn’t let him find out. And thirdly, a rebellious energy. She was tired of being locked down by her own innocence. She wanted to explore the world. There had to be more to this world than just what she knew. There had to be.

From head to toe, she felt a symphony of pleasure as she came. Her toes clenched until they cramped. But she didn’t care, the pleasure outweighed the pain. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. She was sure there would be a five fingered mark there the next day. It would be a reminder of his clawed reach and her deflowering.

She screeched out as Hisoka went faster, overwhelming her. She hadn’t even gotten over her orgasm before he began to thrust into her twice as hard. She could feel his cock rub itself against the entrance of her womb.

It was primal to push into her beautiful, soft female body and pull back, only to push himself back. He could feel himself building up the height of his pleasure. The more he pumped, the higher the tower built, just ready to topple over and leave a big mess.

He looked at her closer than ever. Watching as her breast bounced and her lips glowed from their mixed saliva. He saw her eyes as she looked up at him, red from crying in complete pleasure. Her appearance increased his desire to come.

“Ahhhh,” he moaned out, feeling his orgasm in his very bones. It was a sensation he was familiar with. After defeating a powerful enemy, he sometimes glowed with the aftertaste of their fight and his victory. This was very similar - yet so different. More intimate, of course. His prey was still alive and he was still inside their body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes in bliss as Hisoka’s cum finally rested inside of her. Her breathing slowed down and the blush on her cheeks faded into softer shades of pink. The sun was coming down. Its orange tones highlighted her sweaty body like a canvas. It almost seemed like she was a freshly painted portrait. Divine Feminine tamed at last.

Both of them laid on their backs, observing the plain ceiling. It was relaxing to lay down after such an exhausting task. All she wanted to do was shut her eyes and rest.

Rest, rest, rest…

My brother! His fight is over!

(Y/N) shot up from the bed, practically tripping over herself as she gathered her things - putting them on. She didn’t even notice her bra was inside-out. More shockingly, she didn’t even notice cum was dripping down her legs.

Hisoka watched amusingly from the sidelines at her scattering around the room.

(Y/N) scanned the room for one final time. She groaned as she saw her wet panties on the bed, right next to Hisoka. She jumped onto the bed and reached for her underwear. As she pulled back, Hisoka grabbed her wrist.

“Tell me, (Y/N), how would your older brother react to hearing about how I ruined his little sister's innocence? How I fucked her and she enjoyed every second of it? I bet he’d try to kill me~.”

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed, not a single word leaving her starstruck mouth. Her body was paralyzed with fear. She forgot who she was dealing with in her panic.

“What's the matter? You want to keep our little secret just between us two? Fine. However, come to my room tomorrow at the same time you did today and we’ll have some more fun. If not…”

She didn’t need to ask - She knew. She imagined the consequences in her mind, thinking about the outcome of her moment of weakness.

Hisoka wasn’t done with her; this was just the appetizer.

—-

“Hey, (Y/N), where were you during my fight? I didn’t see you in the crowd at all.”

“Oh, I was just getting some snacks.”

“Ah, alright. Next time just tell me beforehand. I wouldn’t want a stranger taking advantage of my little sister. Right, sis?”

“Haha, yeah…”

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